I

Moonlight on a silver blade was the last thing Jaybelever saw.

Fifteen years ago, when he and his closest friends hadbeen adventuring throughout the Western Heartlands, he might have expected sucha demise. In those days, he had made his living as an expert picking locks,disarming traps, and unobtrusively eliminating enemies-tasks known forshort-lived practitioners. Indeed, on more than one occasion, he'd beensnatched from death's dark abyss only by the mystical healing power of theacolyte Gwynn.

In the years since, however, Jaybel had given up therogue's life. Following the tragedy of his company's last quest, when they hadbeen forced to leave the dwarf Shandt to the so-called mercy of a hobgoblintribe, the glamour had gone out of that life. Indeed, so terrible had thatordeal been that every member of the Six of Swords had secondthoughts about his career.

"I've made my fortune," Jaybel told hiscomrades. "Now I plan to relax and enjoy it."

With his next breath, he asked Gwynn to marry him, andshe hadn't even paused before accepting. The company parted, and he and Gwynntook up residence in the great city of Waterdeep.

With the treasures they had gathered from countlessforgotten tunnels and valiant quests, Jaybel and Gwynn had built themselves amodestly elegant home. It included a chapel where she could teach her faith,and a locksmith's shop where he could keep his fingers nimble and his eyessharp.

For nearly a decade and a half, he and Gwynn had beenhappy. They had put tragedy behind them and started a new life together. WhenJaybel had looked back on those wild days, he always said, "It's a wonderI'm not dead."

Now he was.

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