Blackstaff Tower

CHAPTER 13

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

Renaet did not often come to this area of Mountainside, but he knew the cobblestone toad he faced was Mandarthen Lane because of the bright blue doors on every building and the white-stone dies on the roofs. He also knew most folk, who disliked the abusive Mandarth noble clan and its whaling-derived riches, referred to it as the "Ambergrislide." Below them, Osco and Renaet could see the morning shift change of the Watch on the west wall, as lights bobbed along the length of the walls, new watchmen climbing the tower stairs with torches.

Osco smacked Renaer behind his knees, causing him to fall and land hard on his back. Before he could yell at the hin, the halfling's hairy hand covered his mouth, and Osco's face came close with his index finget at his mouth, signaling quiet. Renaer relaxed, but fought the urge to cough, as a foot patrol of Watchmen wandered past them. They were close enough that Renaer and Osco overheard snatches of conversation.

"— said there's an extra bonus in our pay if we can catch them without the Watchful Order's interference!"

"You ever had to chase him? Renaer Neverember's a greased fish that slips the net every time."

"When it don't matter, maybe. Now, with the murders in Ravencourt, he'll be caught. And he's got friends. They'll be easily enough caught, and then-"

"What? He'll come for them? Anyone who'll do what he did to the Blackstaffs heir isn't worried about retribution and hardly cares what happens to others!"

A third rougher voice growled at the chattering Watchmen. "Less jabber, more seeking, fools!"

"They'd stand out too easily up here," the first voice said. "There's no one awake and on the streets but a few servants heading downslope to fetch mornfeast for their masters."

Renaer could now make out the Watch patrol passing directly in front of their position on the other side of the iron-rail fence. If they looked even an arm span in their direction…

In the distance, Renaer heard some commotion, — and Osco whispered, "Somethin's disturbed some dogs."

A few breaths later, the shadowed pack of four Watchmen started, as a horn sounded a few streets over.

"Let's see where our fellows need our help!" said one of the Watchmen.

They ran east and up over the slope of the mountain, leaving Osco and Renaer behind them. The two of them exhaled in relief, their warm breath clouding the air around them.

"Sorry, Renaer," Osco said, brushing snow and frost off the human's cloak and vest. "No time for warning. How you humans avoid trouble with such poor eyes and ears is beyond me."

"I suspect avoiding trouble's not on our agenda today," Renaer said. "You heard them and that horn. How much would you wager they've spotted some friends of ours and sounded the alarm?"

Osco beamed a broad smile. "Haven't had a tussle with the Watch in four days myself. Let's see if we can trip them up without them being the wiser, eh? We'll head up Gorarl's Way and over to

Tybrun Ridge, right?" With that, the halfling slipped through the wide rail fence and scampered off into the shadows.

"Osco!" Renaer whispered harshly, but not too loud to draw attention. "I meant we should-grrr!"

Renaer got up and found he could not slip between the rails as the hin did. He found the gate and eased it open with only some noise from its hinges. He headed in the same direction as the halfling and the Watch, and he found it easy to know what direction to travel by seeing the scuffs in the mostly undisturbed frost on the street. He just hoped they'd reunite with their friends before anyone got caught.

Laraelra slipped and began to fall as the ground under her proved too icy. She felt someone catch her, but she could not see with the rising sun lancing in her eyes. Shielding her face, she realized that Vharem stood behind her, and he kept his feet despite the ice. "Thank you, Vharem," she said.

"Any time I can help damsels in distress." He grinned.

"Any idea where we are?" Laraelra asked as she regained her footing and looked around. The two of them stood in an open court that sat higher on the mountain slope than most of its surrounding one- and two-story buildings. In the shadows of the buildings, untouched by the rising sun, furred creatures stirred and stretched. One or two dogs slipped into the sunlight and approached the two humans, growling and apprehensive.

"Stlaern," Vharem whispered. "Elra, back out of here as calmly as you can, but quickly."

She tried but found her way blocked by another growling dog, a Moonsharran mastiff. "Where are we?"

Vharem did not answer. He reached into his belt pouch and withdrew three latge hunks of dried venison, which he now waved to spread the scent. He whispered, "I'm going to toss these. Then we run."

The court exploded with color and light and numerous yelps. Laraelra grinned as Vharem turned to find her casting her spell. She clapped her hands together as if brushing off dust, and said, "Or I can take care of a pack of dogs with a simple spell."

"You didn't get them all-run!" Vharem threw the venison to her right. His aim was true, and the mastiff caught the largest hunk of meat in his jaws instead of lunging at the sorceress. Other dogs now fought over the unclaimed meat as Vharem and Laraelra ran out of the enclosed court and into the small street.

Vharem looked left, saw a number of folks heading east toward them with hands raised to see against the rising sun. Two wore Watch colors. Vharem pulled her to the right and the two ran. No other steps disturbed the morning frost on the streets in this direction. Laraelra realized they were up in Mountainside, racing down the northern slopes of Mount Waterdeep. This road ran parallel and just one block east of Tybrun Ridge, the slope edge of the mountain. She recognized no buildings, as she'd rarely entered Mountainside.

"What was that?" she whispered.

"Wildhound Court," Vharem said as he steered them to the right and onto a wider street that curled back north almost immediately, but ran lower on the slopes. "Whenever dogs get loose up on the mountain, as they do when drunken nobles stagger home in early morn, the dogs get drawn to that court and form a wild pack, no matter how good-tempered they might be normally. Oftimes, folk who wander into it at night are found dead by full morning. It has something to do with some old curse left over from the warlords' time or something. Here!"

Vharem pointed, and he and Laraelra swung left into another court that had an exit opposite them. He rushed them both toward a baker's window just opening for morning business. He flipped a few coppers toward the young apprentice and said, "Fresh bread, and hurry."

The entire time they stood there, Vharem never stopped tapping his foot.

"Do we have time for this?" she asked in a fierce whisper.

"We've got to let those Watchmen go by."

"But why are you nervous now?" Laraelra asked. "You weren't even this twitchy against that fake Blackstaff two nights ago."

"I was sure he didn't know me or carry a grudge," Vharem said. "There's a few Watchmen up here who really don't like me, and I need to get both of us out of here. We need to find the others. Why didn't we arrive together?"

"I don't know," Laraelra said, "but don't worry. We'll find them."

"I'll worry. I've played some pranks on the Watch up here."

The apprentice baker reappeared with two piping hot loaves, which he handed over nervously, apologizing for the slow service. Vharem handed one to Laraelra and moved to keep on walking, when the court exit was blocked by a Watch patrol. One of them pointed, and the rest chuckled. Vharem and Laraelra turned on their heels to leave the way they had come, only to find the Watch armar blocking their way.

The tall man, whose remaining long black hair was tied behind his shaved scalp, rubbed his head and smiled at Vharem without saying a woid. He simply pulled his signal horn up to his lips and blew. The high, cleat sound echoed in the court.

"Oh parhard," Vharem and Laraelra swore.

¦ Meloon's eyes remained clouded, the haze of silver replaced by a full blue glow. He saw Lauroun's face again, her cerulean eyes, hawklike pose, and strong brow beneath a chain mail headpiece. She smiled at him, and mouthed the words he heard in his head. Home again. Good. Meloon tightened his grip on Azuredge, the axe whose voice spoke to him.

A small hand at his belt steadied him before he fell forward, and he shook his head to clear his eyes. Meloon found Vajra smiling up at him. Her brown eyes became purple and she licked her lips while looking at him. The eyes shifted again to sea green, and she said, "Listen to Lauroun. She'll never steer you wrong." Her gaze darted to the magical axe, and she said, "Nameless's portal only works when the first rays of dawn strike the place where he was born. Alas, we alone arrived on target. The others are near, scattered by some whim of magic attached to this mountain. Perhaps the Godstair interferes…" Her voice trailed off and Meloon followed her gaze to the peak of Mount Waterdeep. When she turned back to look at him, her eyes were brown again. "We have little time and must get to the tower. They can meet us there." "No," Meloon said.

"Don't argue with me, warrior. Why not?"

"Because you faint. A lot. And I can't fight and carry you. So we find the others first." He looked around and found that the cobblestones on which they stood were scorched in the shape of a cat's head. "Did we do this?"

"The Spellplague did a century ago," Vajra said, her hazel eyes shining with tears. "It robbed jne of both husband and familiar in one magical blow. The magic marked the city forevermore, even though they have changed the stones seven times in and since my lifetime."

"Vajra?"

"Tsar-Unh," Vajra said. "Fehlar's Bones, this hurts! They keep pushing out of my head!"

"Yet another reason why we need the others," Meloon said, looking out from the intersection in which they stood. The crossroads led straight along the ridge of the mountain to the south, but zigzagged away from their meeting point down the slopes to the west, east, and north. As he looked down to the city, a brief flash of colors flared up in a court south and east of them, and he pointed. "There!"

Meloon turned to help Vajra along, but she sped off ahead of him, running faster than he thought possible-he had to run full out to catch up. He wished he knew the names of the streets, but they headed down toward the flash, and Meloon's speed showed him why all the roads were switch-backed and zigzagged. If they ran roads straighter in Mountainside, carts or horses would easily get out of control or run too fast down the mountain and shatter legs or goods along the way. During the run, Meloon heard a horn and noticed a number of shuttets disturbed by it, as well as some folk either heading toward the sound or away from it.

By the time Meloon caught up to Vajra, she stood outside a court and was casting a spell at the backs of a Watch patrol. The two men and one woman all fell asleep before their bodies slumped to the cold ground. She looked back at him as he arrived and slid to a halt on a patch of ice. She wore a serious mien, and her gray eyes held no humor. "Come. Our comrades await.".

Meloon and Vajra entered the court, and Meloon's stomach growled as he caught the scent of fresh bread. He ignored it and beamed as he spotted Elra and Vharem-and the watch armar past them. Just as Meloon focused on the oddly mussed and frizzy hairstyle of the atmat, the man's eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he fell forward, unconscious. Behind him, a grinning Osco Salibuck stepped out of the shadows, his sling dangling from his right hand. Moments later, Renaer appeared in the alleyway behind the halfling.

Everyone entered the courtyard, saying nothing but surveying the four downed Watchmen, then the large covered well at the yard's center. The folk who lived and worked in this stories-tall court had opened their windows or doors when the horn sounded, and they yelled out their upper windows and into the streets. "Young Neverember and his friends assault the Watch at Trellamp Court! Murderer on the loose 'tween Sulvan's Way and Three Lords' Crossing!"

"We're innocent!" Renaer shouted. "We've killed no one!"

"Aside from that one-eyed Watchman and his flunky," Vharem whispered to Osco.

An elderly matron of doughy countenance leaned out her window and cackled at Renaer. "If ye're innocent, stay and explain why the Watch lies at yer feet, laddie!"

With more than a few folk yelling into the streets, a warning bell sounded in a nearby temple tor, and the sounds of boots approached.

"Parharding bells." Renaer groaned, and then said, "This way, everyone!"

The six of them sped out of Trellamp Court, racing down Sulvan's Way as if gods themselves dogged their steps.