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Time Well Spent

Lucius shakes his head. "The prison was inside his mind, you see?

"Ah, the truth is, I can't perform well with manacles on my wrists. I need my hands free to act! Besides, I usually throw in some colorful illusions to make it more interesting."

Lucius sits down on the floor.

"It's a shame really. I often perform this incredible drama about a lonely Wizard's construct that eventually gets its own free will and runs amuck. It's called 'Lucenstein.' You'd have really enjoyed it, I think."
 

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"Hurrrm," grumbles the Cell, "A construct with free will...that sounds implausible and yet terrifying. If only I possessed a key I would allow you to perform The Entertainment to the fullest of your ability. But only the Master has keys."

You hear doors being unlocked somewhere not too far away...
 

"Ah, well. Once I am freed, perhaps the Dweomerkeepers will alow me to return to you ... and I'll show you some real Entertainment."

Lucius sighs.

"I think they're coming for me. Wish me luck!"
 

The chamber outside the bars of the Cell seems to grow darker...shadows pool in the corners and spread out to smother what little light shines from a single candle guttering on a wooden table.

An imposing shadow figure, whose intricate clothing seems so antique as to be anachronistic, seems to drift into the chamber. His skin is ashen gray, his eyes a luminous white without pupils, and his cloak flows and roils like black smoke around his form. Indeed, he seems to be made of shadow-stuff rather than flesh.

One dark hand lifts a black iron cage and hangs it on a hook outside the Cell. Within the cage you see Wisp on his back, tiny claws sticking straight up. After a moment's panic, you realize that your faithful familiar is merely unconscious.

A servant with downcast eyes slides a covered tray through a slot at the bottom of the cell door. He passes a crystal goblet of red wine through the bars and places that on the tray as well. Then he bows to the Shade and departs.

"Welcome to the detention area," whispers the Shade. "I hope you find your quarters well-behaved and comfortable."
 
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"Uh, well, thank you for having me Master Shadow," Lucius says with a gulp.

"Cell here has been a good companion, and more importantly, a good audience.

Lucius glances over at Wisp's cage.

"I hope for everyone's sake that my familiar is unharmed. This is the most pleasant experience I've had in a cell, and I'd hate to ruin it for everyone."

Wisp! Wake up, my friend! Wisp!

Sigh.

"I would like to speak with the Dweomerkeepers as soon as possible. If you would possibly relay that I'm in a bit of a hurry ..."
 
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A very long, very uncomfortable silence passes as the Shade inspects as though you were a butterfly in the killing jar.

"You shall address me as Giraldus.

"Thine pet is unharmed. The Dweomerkeepers, however, are returned to their proscribed duty: vouchsafing the magefair of mayhem and murder.

"So far they've not been entirely successful, hmm?

"Prithee, savor the meal that has been prepared for you. You'll find the wine to be of a particularly flavorful vintage. While you eat, let us speak of the elf who was seen speaking with you, near the domiciles, shortly before her murder."
 

"I'm not particularly hungry, thank you. Besides, last time I drank a stranger's wine, I ended up unclothed, tied by my feet upside-down in the cellar of a brothel in Silverymoon ... "

Ahem.

"But you probably don't care about that. Indeed Master Giraldus, I met the elf shortly before the mage duel. She claimed to be a harper, and was quite taken with me, I must add.

"Wisp told me of her murder ... I sent him to her after the duel. A shame, really. She was quite a beauty."

I want to take a long, hard look at this Giraldus. Any chance he might be an illusion?

"But listen, Master Giraldus, I do have things to attend to. Are not the Dweomerkeepers granted divine magics by Mystra? Can they not simply tell if I am lying or telling the truth by the Goddess' power?"
 

On close inspection, you get the feeling that Giraldus is all too real.

"So thine familiar reported that the murder was successful, as you extinguished the flame of Master Haelstrom?

"Of what did you speak to Mackleberry Handervump? Witnesses described seeing you speak to him on two separate occasions in the late evening last."

Wisp begins to come around, and hops up onto the perch in his iron cage. Ugh, he says in your mind, I hate cages.
 

"Do not accuse someone of murder so lightly, Master
Giraldus.

"I was looking to buy some of Master Handervump's wares. This is a Mage Fair is it not?"

Lucius crooks his head and gives the shade the once over.

"I see there is little point in speaking with you. You have made up your mind and will probably twist my words to fit your image of the events at hand. This is a sad thing, actually. I'd been told that your kind were methodical in their actions, not prone to rash judgements.

"Which is a shame really, since you've got some real killers loose upon your fair. I've been duped, and I fear, so have you."
 

The Shade's eyes narrow, and the room seems to grow darker for a moment.

"My kind? It is so like the children of Faerun to make assumptions about an individual based on the reputation of his people. And moreover, to make faulty assumptions based on false information.

"A wizard is dead. Right now, you are the prime suspect. Indeed, the amount of witnesses present at the murder scene renders your casual claims nearly laughable. Your scoffing manner leads me to believe that perhaps you could have done this. You seem unwilling to present any evidence to the contrary.

"But I see there is little point in speaking with you, Master Foxhound. You have made up your mind about who I am--based on my appearance, perhaps, or on some rumor spread among alehouses--and do not see the need in humoring me. This is a sad thing, actually. Because I hold the key to your freedom."

Giraldus turns and leaves the room. You hear doors locking in the darkness. The single candle's flame flickers.
 

Into the Woods

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