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Waterdeep

Page 32

by Troy Denning


  “Commanded!” Blackstaff snorted, insulted that anyone would dare use such a term to him. He ripped the scroll out of Mordoc’s hands and read the rest silently. Finally, he asked, “I am to take command of the Wyvern Company?”

  “Aye, that would be the long and short of it,” Mordoc replied, hastily adding, “sir!”

  “Incredible,” Blackstaff muttered. “I’m no general.”

  “And our enemy is no army,” Mordoc replied.

  “What is it then?” Elminster said, irritated at the intrusion.

  “And be quick about it. We have important business to attend to.”

  “As near as we can tell, sir, they—”

  “Who?” Blackstaff demanded. “What is it you want?”

  “Fiends, sir. Hundreds of ’em, and their number is increasing all the time. They came from the caverns beneath Mount Waterdeep, then started pillaging the city. They’ve got everything from Harborwatch Tower to Snail Street—that’s most of the Dock Ward. We’ve slowed them down, but that’s about all. And the griffons are taking a beating from the ones that can fly. Before long, they’ll have all of Waterdeep—unless you can stop them.”

  “The denizens,” Midnight gasped. “They escaped the Pool of Loss.”

  “So it would appear,” Elminster replied, scratching his beard. He immediately realized that Myrkul was the only one who could have countered Midnight’s spell. But he did not understand why the Lord of the Dead would have bothered. Even for the God of Decay, destroying Midnight’s sphere would have been far from easy. Elminster did not see why Myrkul would waste the energy, when he undoubtedly knew what he wanted was in Blackstaff’s tower. The old sage and Blackstaff had been unable to dispel the magic the Lord of the Dead had placed on the artifact.

  “We’d better act quickly,” Blackstaff said to Elminster. At the same time, he thrust the scroll back at the captain.

  “The men are outside, sir,” Mordoc said, assuming the black-bearded wizard had been talking to him.

  “Men?” Blackstaff retorted. “Take them and begone. I have important matters to attend to.”

  Mordoc frowned and reached into his cloak. He looked as though he were a dog that had just been kicked, and with good reason. It was not safe to be the one who told Blackstaff Arunsun he had to do something against his will.

  Mordoc withdrew a ring, then handed it to Blackstaff. “Sir, the warden of the guard ordered me to give you this.”

  Blackstaff reluctantly accepted the ring. It belonged to Piergeiron the Paladinson, the only acknowledged Lord of Waterdeep, Warden of the Guard, Commander of the Watch, Overmaster of the Guilds—and a dozen other titles. Blackstaff sighed and slipped the ring onto his finger. He had been summoned to serve his city. If he did not answer Piergeiron’s call, he would lose his citizenship. Turning to Elminster, he said, “I have no choice.”

  Elminster nodded. “Go. It will be better if somebody keeps the denizens at bay. Undoubtedly, they’re coming for the tablet.”

  “You know where to hide it?” Blackstaff asked.

  Elminster nodded. “Aye, the vault. Now go.”

  Before leaving, the dark-haired mage turned to Midnight and Kelemvor. “If you need anything—”

  “A dagger,” Midnight requested immediately, recalling that hers had melted in the caverns below Dragonspear Castle.

  Blackstaff nodded. “Elminster can get it for you.” He turned and walked through the wall, saying, “Perhaps this will take only a little while.”

  “Perhaps,” Elminster repeated absently. After Blackstaff left, he remained silent for a long time, puzzling over why Myrkul had released the denizens.

  Finally, Midnight ventured to ask, “What now?”

  Her question snapped Elminster out of his musings. “Yes—what now? We hide the tablet, I suppose.”

  “Why?” Kelemvor exclaimed. “I thought we were going to attack Myrkul!”

  “The situation has changed,” the old sage said. “It appears he is coming to us.”

  “Which is why we should attack” the fighter maintained. “It’s the last thing he’ll expect.”

  “True,” Elminster noted thoughtfully. He liked Kelemvor’s aggressive strategy, but suspected the warrior had not thought through the details of his plan. “How are we going to sneak up on our enemy when he can track us by our tablet?”

  Kelemvor remained confident. “We leave it here, so he thinks we’re still in the tower.”

  “Leave the tablet unguarded?” Elminster objected.

  “Why not?” Kelemvor said. “If we defeat Myrkul, we’ll be the only ones who know where it is. If Myrkul kills us, at least he’ll have to steal it from Blackstaff’s tower.”

  “And how are we going to find Myrkul?” Elminster asked, drumming his bony fingers on a tabletop.

  “The same way he’s finding us,” Midnight replied. “I can locate his tablet as easily as he can locate ours.”

  Elminster shook his head doubtfully. “Ye know how unpredictable magic—”

  “We’re fighting for the fate of the Realms,” the warrior said forcefully. “We’ll have to run a few risks.”

  “I think we should carry the fight to Myrkul, too,” Midnight said. “I, for one, am tired of running. Will you come with us or not, Elminster?”

  Elminster raised his eyebrows at Midnight’s gentle rebuff. She had just taken leadership of this small company, but that was to be expected. “Of course I’ll come,” the sage replied. “Ye are going to need all the help ye can get.”

  Elminster went to the library and took the tablet into Blackstaff’s sub-dimensional vault, where he also retrieved a dagger for Midnight. To the sage’s consternation, he could not seal the room when he left. After a couple of quick experiments, the ancient wizard determined the door simply could not be closed while the tablet was inside. Myrkul’s magic kept it open, in effect raising the sub-dimensional vault back into the normal dimension. The only thing guarding the tablet would be an illusion of a wall.

  Still, as nervous as that made Elminster, he realized Kelemvor was right about one thing. If they stopped Myrkul, the tablet would be safe anywhere inside Blackstaff’s tower. On the other hand, if Myrkul killed them, it would be better if the tablet was not along. The wizard pushed a bookshelf in front of the vault, then went back downstairs.

  While Elminster hid the tablet, Midnight performed her locate object incantation. She nearly went mad as it misfired, flooding her mind with the present location of every item she had ever owned. However, after collapsing in a confused heap for a few minutes, the mage sorted through the jumble of contradictory directions and focused on Myrkul’s tablet.

  By the time Elminster returned, she and Kelemvor were ready to go. After accepting Blackstaff’s dagger from the sage, Midnight led the way into the courtyard, a queasy feeling of dread settling in her stomach. Her magic was pulling her south and a little east, the same way a lodestone pulled toward north. She started down Swords Street, brushing past hundreds of people rushing in the opposite direction.

  “We’re going toward the battle,” Kelemvor observed, elbowing a path through the mass of refugees. In the distance, columns of smoke rose over the city.

  They had not walked more than two hundred feet before Midnight sensed the tablet was now more to the east than the south. She turned onto Keltarn Street and walked down a short block, to where it joined the Street of Silks.

  “That’s strange,” she said, pausing at the intersection. “It’s to our north now.”

  The mage led her friends up the Street of Silks into another throng of refugees. She feared her magic had become unreliable. Still, the sensation of being pulled toward the tablet was clear and strong, so she continued forward.

  Two hundred feet later, Midnight turned west. “The tablet’s over there.” She pointed across a solid block of buildings.

  “This way, then,” Kelemvor said, running up the Street of Silks to where Tharleon Street joined it. He turned west down the narrow alley, then
waited for Midnight and Elminster to catch up.

  “It’s straight ahead,” Midnight said.

  They walked down the street until it reached Swords Street again. Blackstaff’s tower stood across the avenue and to the right.

  “We’ve made a circle!” Kelemvor observed.

  “Perhaps I located the wrong tablet,” Midnight said meekly, trying to sort through the confusion in her mind.

  “I don’t think so,” Elminster grumbled. He pointed across the road and to the north, at a figure in a black robe. The man carried saddlebags over his shoulder. He was walking straight toward Blackstaff’s tower, violently pushing aside anyone unfortunate enough to get in his way.

  “Myrkul!” Midnight cried.

  “Yes,” Elminster replied. “He’s come for the other tablet.”

  Kelemvor drew his sword. “And he doesn’t know we’re behind him.” The warrior started across the road.

  So she could summon another incantation if needed, Midnight stopped concentrating on the tablet. The three allies crossed the street and moved up behind Myrkul, finally getting a clear shot at his back just as he reached the tower.

  Midnight summoned a lightning bolt. “Cover your eyes,” she warned.

  The instant Kelemvor and Elminster obeyed, the mage pointed at Myrkul’s back and uttered the words to the incantation. A loud crackle filled the air. A dozen blue streaks leaped off Midnight’s finger and shot into Swords Street, striking buildings and people. Tiny blasts flared wherever the bolts touched, gouging small craters in walls and burning fist-sized holes into bodies.

  Myrkul stopped at the tower’s entrance and turned around. He saw Midnight, flanked by Elminster and Kelemvor, staring in horror at the results of her botched incantation. The Lord of the Dead had not expected to find the trio outside the tower, but it did not concern him. He had ways of occupying them while he retrieved the tablet.

  Myrkul gestured at the sewer entrance behind Midnight, then entered the tower. A cry of alarm spread up the street. Kelemvor turned in time to see several soggy corpses climb out of the sewer. They wore the same striped robes of the undead that had stolen the tablet at Dragonspear Castle. The skin on their faces was wrinkled and decaying, and their expressions were dull and lethargic.

  “Zombies!” the warrior gasped.

  “Ignore them!” the ancient wizard yelled. “Into the tower.”

  Kelemvor and Elminster ran for the tower. Behind them, they dragged Midnight, who was still dazed and anguished by the destruction her spell had caused. When they reached the tower, Myrkul was nowhere in sight, though the rank odor of sewage still hung in the air.

  “Upstairs!” Elminster said. “In the library!”

  Kelemvor led the way up the spiraling staircase, advancing slowly and cautiously. Midnight followed, while Elminster came last. The first zombie entered the tower just as the ancient sage stepped onto the stairs.

  On the second floor, Elminster told the mage and the warrior to stop outside a closed door. “The tablet’s in there—which means Myrkul is, too,” he explained.

  “We can’t use magic,” Midnight whispered. “I’ve already hurt too many people.”

  “Nonsense,” Elminster growled. “If we don’t stop Myrkul, the citizens of Waterdeep will be dead anyway.”

  “Elminster’s right. Waterdeep’s a battlefield now,” Kelemvor said. “Innocent people are going to die no matter what. The only thing we can do—must do—is win the battle.”

  The first zombie appeared around the bend in the staircase. Elminster calmly turned and touched one of the stone stairs, then whispered a complicated chant. Kelemvor moved to meet the advancing zombie, but a stone wall sprang up where the sage had touched the stairs.

  “It worked,” Elminster sighed. He turned toward the door. “Be ye ready, Midnight?”

  She nodded, but did not speak.

  Elminster looked at Kelemvor, and the warrior kicked the door open. Midnight stepped into the room, searching for the dark-robed figure they had seen in the streets.

  “There’s nobody in here!” she reported.

  Kelemvor and Elminster peered over her shoulder. The library was, indeed, deserted. One bookshelf had been tipped over, revealing a section of blank stone wall.

  Elminster cursed, then said, “He’s already got our tablet!”

  “There’s only one place he could have gone,” Kelemvor yelled.

  “Up!” Elminster confirmed. “Quickly, before he escapes.”

  They started up the stairs, pausing to look into the rooms on each floor.

  Meanwhile, Myrkul slipped the second tablet into the other side of the saddlebags. Then he slung the bags over his shoulder and stepped out of Blackstaff’s vault into the library.

  “Remarkable,” he said, walking over to the stairway and examining Elminster’s wall. “They are hunting me!” He thought for a moment, then added, “We can’t have mortals trying to destroy me, can we?”

  Myrkul cast a passwall spell at the stone barrier blocking the stairway. A rectangular section of stone separated itself and began hopping down the stairs as though it were alive.

  Myrkul watched the stone crush one of his zombies, then disappear around the bend in the staircase. His spell’s misfire did not concern the Lord of the Dead. He would soon have plenty of undead to call in Waterdeep.

  “Up the stairs!” Myrkul said. “Kill the woman and her friends. They’ve caused me too much trouble already.”

  As the zombies shuffled past, Myrkul contemplated his next move. He would return to the Pool of Loss to call the spirits of the dead. After harvesting the energy of their souls, he would go to the Celestial Stairway. With luck, Helm would let him pass, for he now possessed both tablets. Then the Lord of the Dead would destroy Ao. Everything was again proceeding according to plan.

  On the flat roof atop Blackstaff’s tower, Kelemvor could not believe Myrkul had escaped so easily. “Where is he?” he roared.

  Elminster turned to Midnight. “You can’t trace the tablet anymore?”

  Midnight tried to reactivate her locate object magic, but it was gone. “I can redo the incantation, but it’ll take a minute,” she replied.

  “We don’t have time. Let’s go,” Kelemvor said, rushing back down the stairs. Midnight and Elminster followed.

  Ten steps later, the warrior came face to face with Myrkul’s undead. The lead zombie opened a long gash in the warrior’s shoulder. Kelemvor reacted instantly, backing away and countering with a backhanded slash that removed the corpse’s arm. In the same breath, the fighter kicked the thing, knocking it down the stairs and into the zombie behind it. Both corpses fell.

  “Run!” Kelemvor screamed.

  Elminster took Midnight’s arm and fled back up the stairs. As they retreated, a third zombie climbed over the pile in the stairway. Kelemvor waited for it, then hacked at its neck with two savage slashes. The thing’s head came free with a pop, then dropped to the stairs and rolled away. The body remained standing, flailing its arms.

  The two zombies Kelemvor had knocked over regained their feet and pushed past their headless comrade, intent on tearing the warrior to pieces. He backed up the stairs slowly, slashing periodically to stall his attackers.

  Outside the trap door leading into the stairwell, Midnight turned to Elminster. “We’ve got to help him,” she cried.

  “Kelemvor can take care of himself,” Elminster said. “Let’s use the time he’s buying us. How can we retrieve the tablets?”

  Midnight tried to summon some magic that would help, but all she could think of was her lover. Occasionally, the clang of steel on stone or a loud grunt rolled out of the stairway to announce that he still lived. Each time, the sound grew closer, so Midnight knew the sage was right. Kelemvor was buying time and not simply throwing his life away. Still, she could think of nothing but helping him.

  Midnight returned to the stairwell.

  “Where are you going?” Elminster demanded. “The tablets—think of the Realms!” />
  “In a minute!” Midnight retorted.

  She found Kelemvor staggering up the stairs, covered from head to foot with scratches and small wounds, scarcely beyond the reach of two pursuing zombies. Midnight paused, trying to think of something to halt the corpses.

  Kelemvor slipped on a small stone and nearly fell. The rock bounced toward the zombies, and then an incantation came to Midnight. She performed it as quickly as she thought of it, and the stone instantly became a boulder.

  It smashed into the first zombie, crushing him. Then it slowed its descent and bounced into the second corpse, knocking it off its feet. The boulder tottered on a stair for a moment, then reversed direction and sluggishly started rolling uphill. It gained momentum steadily, and a moment later the rock was bouncing up the stairs as rapidly as it had started down them.

  Midnight pointed at the boulder and screamed, “Look out!”

  Kelemvor took two steps, glanced over his shoulder and saw the boulder. He dropped to his belly and it bounced over him. Midnight barely jumped out of the way as the huge rock shot out of the stairwell and arced away into Waterdeep.

  The warrior scrambled out of the stairs behind it. He slammed the trap door shut, then hopped on top to prevent the zombies from opening it.

  “Perhaps now we can attend to the tablets?” Elminster suggested, tapping his foot impatiently.

  Midnight glanced at the stairwell. Kelemvor looked secure enough for the moment. “I have something in mind,” she said. “But I don’t know how much good it will do. I can only grab one of the tablets with the spell, and it won’t stop Myrkul from coming after us.”

  “We’ll handle Myrkul when he gets here,” Elminster said. “Right now, our only concern is getting the tablets back.”

  Midnight nodded, then closed her eyes, envisioned a tablet, and performed an instant summons incantation.

  At the bottom of the tower, Myrkul was about to step into the courtyard when the saddlebags suddenly became unbalanced and slid off his shoulder. He picked them up and looked into the side that had grown lighter. It was empty.

 

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