Blackstaff Tower w-1

by Steven E. Schend

  She replied, "You're better off using that digger's treasure to pay a cleric to heal him, Harug, or he'll never walk again. Now why did you send a runner to the guildhouse claiming you needed protection down here instead of a pump crew and an engineer?"

  "Fixits always come later, lass. I figured you'd have to bring somebody big enough to help do that more quickly." Harug thumbed toward Meloon, who was busy coughing and wiping the worst of the muck off of his face, arms, and torso. "Oh, and to deal with those, too."

  Harug picked up a rock and threw it past Meloon's shoulder to strike a lettuce green mottled lizard in the snout as it appeared atop the pile of rubble. The mastiff-sized lizard's response was a hiss and snap of its jaws, and Meloon punched it in the nose, forcing it back into the darkness. Meloon peered into the wall cavity and said, "There's a lot of noise and movement back here, folks. I think it's a lot more of these things."

  Laraelra stood, squaring her shoulders and facing the old dwarf. "Harug," she said, "strap Dorn to a board and get him to safety. We'll take care of those things. When you've heard it's clear, I want you down here to rebuild that wall. Father may favor Rodalun for the engineering jobs, but I don't trust that drunken sot to do it right. Besides, I don't want any others-especially my father- knowing about this breach in the tunnels."

  "Finally," Harug chuckled, "I'm glad ye respect dwarves, even if some other Cellarers don't. Thanks, Elra lass." Harug clapped a thick calloused hand over hers and looked in her eyes. Softly, he said, "We owes ye both, lass, that we does."

  Laraelra felt the solemnity of the dwarf's promise, and she knew her longtime friend Harug now pledged his life to hers.

  Harug's eyes snapped toward Meloon. "Watch them sewyrms, lad. Them lizards're stubborn, but their bite's only half as bad as their tail lash."

  Meloon smiled and said, "Thanks!" He stepped over to retrieve his axe, keeping himself between the lizard and Laraelra. In that moment, two sewyrms hopped atop the rubble pile and a third splashed into the sewer stream behind the rocks. Laraelra had to reassess her initial impression of Meloon. She watched his eyes and ears catch everything moving around him and plan his attack accordingly. Sweeping the great-axe as he spun back around, Meloon beheaded one lizard as it leaped at him. The second lashed its scaled tail over its body like a scorpion, slapping the warrior's arm and drawing blood. Meloon grunted and lopped off the lizard's tail on the return swing of his axe. That creature screeched in pain and leaped back into the darkness, out of reach.

  Laraelra watched Meloon's axe slide in his grasp from all the water and filth covering him. She stepped closer and cast her spell again. Water and offal slid off of Meloon, his clothes, and axe.

  He shook his head and said, "Who did that? I'm grateful, but…"

  While many still feared magic since the Spellplague, Laraelra reveled in her small and growing sorceries. Even with her paltry few spells, she knew how to winnow down the opposition from lizards at least. Behind Meloon's massive back, Laraelra said, "If you'd move to one side, I'll do more than help dry you off. I can make this battle a lot simpler."

  "A skinny little thing like you? A sword's weight could knock you over." Meloon chuckled.

  "Don't forget who's paying you," she said, and she tried to push by him, but Meloon swept her back with his left arm.

  "Unless you've a fireball or two in your sleeves, you'd best leave the fight to me. That's what you're paying me for." Meloon swung his axe up and cleanly decapitated another lizard.

  The lizards hissed loudly. Three more leaped atop the pile as the survivor jumped down into the sewer stream alongside. The tunnel filled with splashing and hissing sounds loud enough to drown out the near-constant dripping.

  "Meloon!" Laraelra said. "We can't pick them off one by one. Pick me up!"

  "Hardly time for that, though I'll be happy to oblige later, milady." Meloon smirked as he shoved the great-axe into the rubble pile, reducing it in height but also dislodging and knocking all three sewyrms back behind it.

  "Hold me up so I can see into the cavity, fool!" She punched Meloon in the side in frustration. "I'll disable most of them with a spell, instead of us getting overwhelmed by them. Then we can both take care of the stragglers, yes?"

  "Oh. Why didn't you say so?" Meloon swung his axe one more time to ward off the sewyrms clambering up the pile, then reached around with his left arm, grabbed her around the waist, and held her high up on his torso. "That high enough, milady Harsard?"

  "Fine." She muttered a few arcane syllables, breathing deep and thinking of a dragon's head, and a radiant cone of color flashed from her outstretched hands. The brief illumination showed her a deep cavity that used to be a cellar or tunnel, its entirety choked with the green sewyrms. All of them hissed in pain, though most fell unconscious, stunned by the clashing spray of color.

  She leaned back against Meloon's shoulder and chest and said, "The few that are still moving are blind and more easily dispatched now. Promise to never underestimate me again and you can call me Elra."

  "Done, Elra," the blond man said as he set her down at the edge of the cavity. "You didn't mention you were a wizard."

  "I'm not," she said. "I don't tell many people about my hidden talents, given how most feel about magic since the Spellplague. And I'm a sorcerer, not a wizard."

  "Doesn't matter to me-for friends or a fight," Meloon said. "We're still striding. That's what matters."

  Laraelra smiled, but that vanished when a scream echoed toward them. Before Laraelra could give him an order, Meloon shouldered his way through the loose rubble pile, widening the opening. The two of them clambered up and over into the cavity, haunted by the sounds of their breathing, the hiss of a few sewyrms, and the echoing screams. Laraelra grabbed one of the torches and brought it to light their way.

  Meloon's first steps sank ankle-deep into mud. What lizards they found were soon beheaded and shoved out of the way.

  "What is this?" Meloon whispered. "Where are we?"

  Laraelra said, "There are a lot of hidden cellars, tunnels, and old foundations-beneath the northern wards, some of which have been mapped, others not so much. Many places here are decades older than the city around them. As long as they never interfered with the sewers, the Lords and the Cellarers and Plumbers' Guild turned a blind eye to them all. The money that buys these places also buys secrets."

  "I can't tell where the screams are coming from," he said, his knuckles white around his axe haft.

  "Just up ahead and to the right," Laraelra replied, pointing ahead to an obvious intersection of tunnels. "After a few trips down here, you learn to ignore the echoes and focus on the sources of sounds. Now let's go quietly."

  Meloon swept a protective arm to keep her back as he moved ahead. Laraelra bumped into him when he stopped. They stood on the edge of a drop well beyond their torchlight, blackness yawning before them. The pavement fell away here, the walls looking slightly melted, rippling from brickwork to smooth flow-stone. Laraelra could see a tunnel entrance outlined indirectly by flickering torchlight far below her and to her right. A woman's ragged gasps and whimpers of pain grew to another anguished scream. The screams echoed up from the depths, along with the murmur of a man's voice.

  "Wizards!" The man's spit of disgust and phlegm resounded through the darkness. "You all think you're better than us, but they can't get secrets out of you with magic, so they call on Granek. Wizardry or no, without fingers, you'll be naught but a hard-coin girl after we're done, if you don't yield your secrets."

  Laraelra and Meloon paused high above, sharing a look of horror and revulsion as they listened.

  "Tell Granek what he wants to know, and we'll stop. For now. Resist, and we'll do worse to your hip than we're doing to your knee."

  The woman's ragged sobs and panicked breathing were audible even where Meloon and Laraelra stood far above them. Laraelra hugged herself, her eyes tearing up at hearing the utter hatred in the man's rough voice. She knew people could be cruel, but she'd never hear
d it so plain. Fear, anger, and her breakfast all warred in the pit of her stomach and she gulped to hold it down.

  Meloon paced and smashed the butt of his axe against the wall, loosening stone fragments to clatter down into the blackness. In the firelight, Laraelra could see the anger in his clenched jaw and knew his imaginary target was the torturer down below in the gloom.

  "Well?" the man asked, but there was only a long pause. A hollow laugh, a moist crunch, and a deafening scream followed.

  Laraelra and Meloon both jumped in shock. Meloon's face shifted to stern resolve. "Can't we help her?"

  She nodded, and whispered, "Let's see if there's a way down."

  Laraelra grabbed a stone from the floor, cupped it in her left hand, and whispered at it. In a whirl of sparkles, the stone glowed with a steady blue light. She tossed the stone down into the abyss, and it dropped more than five people's heights before it rattled to a stop. The pale azure light revealed a shattered and nebulous system of tunnels, many of which had melted or collapsed together on at least two levels. Her stone's light merged with the outer edges of their torchlight, showing them at least a drop of at least thirty feet.

  "No way we can get down there without ropes and hooks." Meloon groaned.

  "No," Laraelra said, "but that doesn't mean we can't guess who's doing this."

  Laraelra handed her torch to Meloon and pulled a scroll tube out of her belt pouch. She opened the tube and pulled out the parchments within it, flipping through them until she found what she sought. She explained, "My father keeps detailed maps of every sewer connection and tunnel he knows of down here, and he notes who owns the properties above them as well. I've made copies for whenever I need to come down here."

  She squinted at the map and motioned for Meloon to bring the light closer.

  "If I'm reading this right, we're beneath Kulzar's Alley and Rook's Alley," she muttered, deep in thought. "There's a block of three conjoined buildings up there."

  "So who do we go fight?" Meloon asked.

  Laraelra stared at the map, then folded it back up sharply. "No one. We can't do anything."

  "Who owns this block?" Meloon asked. "We can't let them get away with this!"

  "We have to," Laraelra said. "The block is owned by the Neverembers.''

  "The Open Lord?"

  "I doubt it. Lord Dagult wouldn't do this. Even if he would, he's got far more secure locations in Castle Waterdeep or beneath the palace." Laraelra thought aloud, "We could go to the Watch, but who will they believer The Open Lord or the daughter of a paranoid guildmaster and her hired sellsword?"

  "I don't care," Meloon said. "I need to help that woman. Nobody deserves that-servant, coin-girl, or peasant. And if we have to go the palace and confront the Open Lord, well…"

  "No," Laraelra said. "Lord Dagult's too busy with the city. His son Renaer manages all his properties, allegedly. Let's go pay a visit to and get some answers from Lord Neverember the Younger. Unless you'd like to stay down here a while longer?"

  "No," Meloon said coldly. "My axe and I want words with Renaer Neverember."

  CHAPTER 3

  Whether a lord knows in his castle what hap or no, his sovereignty makes demands of him for it nonetheless, and any who wouldst gainsay that deserves neither loyalty nor obeisance.

  Myrintar Hasantar, Things a Knight Should Know, Year of the Mace (1307 DR)

  9 Nightal, Year of the Ageless One (1479 DR)

  "Milord?"

  "Yes, Madrak?"

  "Apologies at interrupting your breakfast, but you have unexpected callers."

  Renaer looked up from his trencher of fried eggs and potatoes and stared at the white-haired halfling whose face barely cleared the table top. Renaer swallowed and said, "Anyone who knows me would not call on me before mid-morn. Who is it?"

  Madrak cleared his throat and said, "The Lady Laraelra Harsard, daughter of Guildmaster Malaerigo Harsard of the Cellarers and Plumbers' Guild, and one Meloon Wardragon, sellsword." Madrak's tone left Renaer little question as to his opinion of them.

  "I've met Laraelra before at the Wands manse, but never more than to say hello," Renaer thought aloud, "but why she would need a sellsword to come here?"

  The halfling harrumphed and said, "They claim to have questions for you about your properties on Kulzar's Alley. They appear to have come directly from the sewers to your door. I took the liberty of receiving them around back at the stables." Renaer smiled. "Thank you for that."

  "No thanks needed, young lord. After all, you'd not be the one to clean up the foyer after such, would you?" Madrak said, and then asked, "Shall I tell them to call another time?"

  "No," Renaer said, and he got up from the table. "Odd that the guildmaster's daughter herself brings me news of some problem with the cellars or some such. It's the sort of thing normally channeled through low-level guild members and servants." Renaer pulled his napkin out of his shirt front and wiped his mouth, then looked down at the butler at his side. "Could you have Bramal bring me the deeds and keys to those properties? I don't know who's renting them at present, if anyone. That way, we'll be able to deal with any problems directly."

  "Very good," Madrak replied. "I took the liberty of asking my son to do just that before I came in here. He'll join you around the stables. Now, don't let these strangers take advantage of you. I've heard tell that the cellarers can back the sewers up into one's vaults simply to shake coins loose from an unsuspecting young lord such as yourself."

  Renaer chuckled and patted Madrak on his shoulder. "I appreciate the warning, old hin, but I didn't just fall off a dung-sweeper's cart. Let's see what they have to say before we accuse them of trying to separate me from my gold, hmm?"

  Madrak snorted and said, "Lad, you just learned to walk a short tenday ago in my eyes. I'm looking out for you as I promised your good mother when she placed your swaddled self in my arms. You've a good ear for sniffing out falsehoods, but your head for business isn't nearly as keen as your love of books."

  "And that is why Bramal conducts the bulk of the family business as my proxy." Renaer knew that Madrak's son and his children were vastly more capable than he would ever be at keeping track of his holdings, collecting rents, and the like. "I trust you and them, Madrak, but today at least I wish to have a hand in my business."

  "Does our hearts good to hear that," Madrak said. "It's high time-"

  "The Brandarth holdings were seen to by me, not my father?" Renaer said, and the old halfling flushed.

  "I'd never say that, young master," Madrak replied, and he and Renaer said in unison, "for it's not my place nor my concern."

  Renaer knelt at his butler's side and rested both hands on his shoulders. "Madrak, you and your family have been at my side since I was born. I know that Dagult would have put you out, save for my insistence and the conditions of Mother's will. Never fear. Your family will always have a place in my house-and not just because of the hin-sized servants' passages. You never have to mince words with me, old halfling. I trust your judgment more than my own."

  A wry smile appeared on the halfling's lips. "Then you'd best stop leaving guests awaiting your pleasure, milord Renaer. Time to start living up to all your potential and being more than a shut-in scholar or a rake-by-night racing with the Watch." Madrak shooed the young man off. He waved a dismissive hand at the cloak rack by the doors leading into the stables. "Oh, and wear that heavy cloak, milord. Auril's blessed us with a biting cold this morn."

  Renaer grabbed the cloak off its peg and swung it around his shoulders as he shoved open the door. The smell of hay and horse manure wafted around him as he closed the door behind him. He waved to Pelar, the groom, who was brushing down Ash, Renaer's favorite stallion. While all the servants answered to Madrak, not all were halflings related to him. By necessity, the grooms were humans capable of handling the larger animals.

  Renaer spotted two strangers standing a few paces to his left by the servants' entrance off of Senarl's Cut. He turned and walked in briskly cowar
d the scrawny woman and broad-shouldered man. She stared out at the stream of carts and people heading toward Tespergates at the southern end of Senarl's Cut. She hugged herself, but Renaer couldn't tell if it was from the cold or nervous habit. The young man seemed more interested in admiring Neverember House's carriages and horses.

  "Milady Harsard? Master Wardragon?" Renaer asked when they turned to face his approach. "What seems to be the problem today?"

  Laraelra spun on her heels and pointed an accusatory finger in Renaer's face. Her face switched from angry to surprised, as if she had shocked herself. "Who's living in Roarke House right now?"

  Behind the three of them, the rasp of a sword being pulled from its scabbard preceded Pelar running forward to defend his young master with a shout of "Back away, woman!"

  Renaer noticed the blond man with Laraelra-noticed especially his hand reaching for the axe on his back.

  Renaer held up both hands and shook his head. "Calm yourself, Pelar. This lady has a lot on her mind. No threats here, right?" Renaer shot a smile at Meloon, whose grip relaxed on his axe hilt.

  Laraelra sighed and stepped back. "My apologies, milord. It's been a tense morning." She hugged herself again and stared away. Pelar stopped, sheathed his blade, and slowly returned to Ash's stall.

  Renaer exhaled and began again. "I'd invite you in for a warm cup, but the state of your clothes presents a problem for my staff." He smiled at Laraelra's answering blush and continued, "Now why do you ask about Roarke House? I've got someone fetching me the deeds and details on that property as we speak. Is there a problem with the sewers beneath it?"

  "Not as much as-" Meloon started, but he stopped when Laraelra elbowed him in the stomach.

  "I just need to know who's living in that building, Lord Neverember," she said. She grabbed some errant black hairs that waved in front of her pale face and pulled them back inside her hood.

  "Lord Neverember is my father," Renaer said. "Call me Renaer, but don't expect me to part with my business if the Cellarers and Plumbers' Guild won't tell me why they need to know it."