servants of the Broken God wear gray.”
“I think you may be right,” Chatulio said.
“So,” Dorn asked, “what is he doing out here instead of in the stronghold?”
“The monks travel all over Damara on various errands,” Kara said. “Perhaps he was simply away from home when the chromatics arrived to lay siege to the place.”
“Maybe,” the half-golem said, sunlight glinting on his iron arm and half-mask. “But there’s another possibility. Many castles are built with secret tunnels underneath. Maybe this lad used such a passage to come out. If so, we can go in the same way.”
“If we can find it,” Chatulio said. -
“Raryn can backtrack him,” said Dorn, “even over these rocks.”
“I’ll try,” said the dwarf, though he recognized, as his comrades perhaps did not, that even if he found the hidden gateway to a subterranean path, there was a good chance the road would only take them to their deaths.
26 Mirtul, the Year of Rogue Dragons
I don’t understand” Taegan said, “why this dreary subject fascinates you so.”
“Just as I don’t comprehend,” Rilitar retorted, a crystal goblet of a passable Sembian white in his hand “why it seems to embarrass you.”
“I wouldn’t put it that way.” Taegan paused to hack into his handkerchief. “It’s just that the lives of avariels are simple. Primitive. There’s little to say about them.”
The wizard shook his head. “I can’t believe that. I’m not one of those elves who arrogantly believes our race superior to all others. But our longevity does afford us certain advantages. It gives us perspective, perhaps even wisdom, time and continuity to develop subtle arts and rich traditions. That’s why it’s difficult for me to credit that the life of any elven community, no matter how small or isolated, could be as drab as you suggest.”
“You say that, but we have both forsaken our kin to dwell among humans.”
“I wouldn’t put it that way,” Rilitar said, echoing his guest’s turn of phrase with a smile. “I wanted to see the world, and learn what other races had to teach, but I certainly didn’t leave because I disdained my people or homeland. Cormanthor is the loveliest place in Faerűn, and one day, I’ll return.”
Taegan wondered if the great forest held any elven cities as magnificent as the long-vanished one he had, with Amra’s guidance, visited in a dream. If so, he almost thought he’d like to see it, an impulse that caught him by surprise. He put the odd notion aside to try to turn the conversation in a more useful direction.
“How did you wind up in Thentia?” he asked. It was an innocuous question intended to pave the way for others that might, in one way or another, prove more revelatory.
“Well,” Rilitar began, and above the ceiling, something crashed.
Inwardly, Taegan winced. He’d accepted Rilitar’s supper invitation partly so he could surreptitiously unlock a second-story window. While he kept the mage occupied, Jivex was supposed to sneak inside and see what he could discover in Rilitar’s library and conjuration chamber. It sounded as if the faerie dragon had knocked over a piece of crockery or glass.
Rilitar sprang to feet, snatched a piece of leather from one of his pockets, and chanting, twirled it through a mystic pass. For an instant, light shimmered across his body as the spell enclosed him in an aura of protection then he ran for the stairs. Hoping to look just as startled and concerned as the wizard was, Taegan grabbed his sword from the cloak rack and dashed after him. He prayed that Jivex had the sense to beat a hasty retreat back out the window, or, failing that, at least make himself invisible.
Then he smelled smoke, and felt warmth emanating from overhead. The rustle of flame mixed with a grating buzz.
Jivex hissed. Taegan realized the faerie dragon was fighting something.
Taegan and Rilitar reached the top of the stairs and dashed creature like a horsefly the size
“I think you may be right,” Chatulio said.
“So,” Dorn asked, “what is he doing out here instead of in the stronghold?”
“The monks travel all over Damara on various errands,” Kara said. “Perhaps he was simply away from home when the chromatics arrived to lay siege to the place.”
“Maybe,” the half-golem said, sunlight glinting on his iron arm and half-mask. “But there’s another possibility. Many castles are built with secret tunnels underneath. Maybe this lad used such a passage to come out. If so, we can go in the same way.”
“If we can find it,” Chatulio said. -
“Raryn can backtrack him,” said Dorn, “even over these rocks.”
“I’ll try,” said the dwarf, though he recognized, as his comrades perhaps did not, that even if he found the hidden gateway to a subterranean path, there was a good chance the road would only take them to their deaths.
26 Mirtul, the Year of Rogue Dragons
I don’t understand” Taegan said, “why this dreary subject fascinates you so.”
“Just as I don’t comprehend,” Rilitar retorted, a crystal goblet of a passable Sembian white in his hand “why it seems to embarrass you.”
“I wouldn’t put it that way.” Taegan paused to hack into his handkerchief. “It’s just that the lives of avariels are simple. Primitive. There’s little to say about them.”
The wizard shook his head. “I can’t believe that. I’m not one of those elves who arrogantly believes our race superior to all others. But our longevity does afford us certain advantages. It gives us perspective, perhaps even wisdom, time and continuity to develop subtle arts and rich traditions. That’s why it’s difficult for me to credit that the life of any elven community, no matter how small or isolated, could be as drab as you suggest.”
“You say that, but we have both forsaken our kin to dwell among humans.”
“I wouldn’t put it that way,” Rilitar said, echoing his guest’s turn of phrase with a smile. “I wanted to see the world, and learn what other races had to teach, but I certainly didn’t leave because I disdained my people or homeland. Cormanthor is the loveliest place in Faerűn, and one day, I’ll return.”
Taegan wondered if the great forest held any elven cities as magnificent as the long-vanished one he had, with Amra’s guidance, visited in a dream. If so, he almost thought he’d like to see it, an impulse that caught him by surprise. He put the odd notion aside to try to turn the conversation in a more useful direction.
“How did you wind up in Thentia?” he asked. It was an innocuous question intended to pave the way for others that might, in one way or another, prove more revelatory.
“Well,” Rilitar began, and above the ceiling, something crashed.
Inwardly, Taegan winced. He’d accepted Rilitar’s supper invitation partly so he could surreptitiously unlock a second-story window. While he kept the mage occupied, Jivex was supposed to sneak inside and see what he could discover in Rilitar’s library and conjuration chamber. It sounded as if the faerie dragon had knocked over a piece of crockery or glass.
Rilitar sprang to feet, snatched a piece of leather from one of his pockets, and chanting, twirled it through a mystic pass. For an instant, light shimmered across his body as the spell enclosed him in an aura of protection then he ran for the stairs. Hoping to look just as startled and concerned as the wizard was, Taegan grabbed his sword from the cloak rack and dashed after him. He prayed that Jivex had the sense to beat a hasty retreat back out the window, or, failing that, at least make himself invisible.
Then he smelled smoke, and felt warmth emanating from overhead. The rustle of flame mixed with a grating buzz.
Jivex hissed. Taegan realized the faerie dragon was fighting something.
Taegan and Rilitar reached the top of the stairs and dashed creature like a horsefly the size
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