James Davis - Circle of Skulls

The Vigilant Order might rise again or fall to the depths of the Nine Hells, all on his success or failure in the next few days. His gaze rested at last upon the innocuous cobbles before the gates of the House of Wonder. He placed thoughts of the angel at the back of his mind and focused instead on the circle of skulls, preparing himself for their service.

As he did so, he smiled, a plan forming that would end his concerns about the deva and leave him to finish his great work in peace. Breath shortening, he coughed, a stab of pain rushing through his chest. He gasped as his heart seized and fluttered. He stumbled backward, leaning against the edge of his desk, breathless and wide eyed, gritting his teeth until the pain passed. The recurring attacks had grown more persistent, leaving him weak and clutching at his chest for what seemed an eternity. Recovering slowly, he breathed deeply and looked forward to the moment when such debilitating ailments were no longer his to worry about.

NIGHTAL 20, THE YEAR OF DEEP WATER DRIFTING (1480 DR)

Sunset did not last long, dark clouds rolling in to steal the sky's red-orange, replacing it with deep blacks and undulating purples. Pharra's Alley was thinning out, the usual crowd of merchants and hopeful students meandering away from the wizards' gate, revealing the bare stones where the skulls were said to appear. Rorden Allek arrived, disturbing Jinn from his study of the rumored spot. He was not entirely convinced the circle existed at all.

"Master Jinn," Allek said, seeming more rested that the previous night but no less weary.

Jinn opened his mouth to respond then spied Quessahn approaching from behind the rorden. She handed him back his sketches, causing Allek to regard Jinn with a glowering, curious stare.

"Forgive me, Rorden Allek, this is Quessahn Uthraebor," Jinn said swiftly before either of them could speak. "I have asked her to assist us."

Allek glanced at the moon elf briefly before gesturing toward the end of the alley. He led them north through the ward as lamplighters gathered at street corners, long, iron hooks slung over their shoulders for the oil-pot lanterns that lit the city by night. Small, portable merchant carts rolled by, their wares folded away until the following morning's business. Horse-drawn carriages, well shined for the appearances of their wealthy occupants, set out from walled mansions, heedless of those foolish enough to get in their way.

"You call this discreet?" Allek said at length, eyes forward and in step beside the deva.

"She already knew about the killings," Jinn responded quietly, "and I suspect we'll need her insight."

"Insight?" Allek asked. Then he sighed, shaking his head. "A wizard…"

"Warlock," Quessahn corrected.

The rorden paused, turning to face the pair with a defeated expression. Jinn had gone against Allek's wishes, but they had both known the exclusion of arcane insight could not have lasted long.

"Well met, then, Mistress Uthraebor," the rorden said, though he glared at Jinn. "Let us be swift before the whole of Waterdeep knows our troubles. Then we'll be up to our eyeballs in wizards and the gods know who else."

Across the street from the corner of Stormstar's Ride and the Street of Glances, Allek stopped, gesturing to the tavern on the northwest corner.

"The Storm's Front," he said, "a popular gathering place for the young and wealthy. Many of the most recent victims were last seen here. The Watch has staked it out before with no success, but I'm hoping that between the two of us-"

"Three," Quessahn added quickly, studying the two-story stone and wood tavern as a well-dressed couple slipped inside. Scents of roasted meats wafted from the open doorway, and Jinn noted several patrons already seated, getting an early start on the evening's revelry.

"Three, yes," the rorden said. "I was hoping we might spy something of note, something the average officer might not notice."

"Is this all?" Quessahn asked. "After a month, this tavern is all you have?"

"I've added an extra man to each patrol and an extra patrol after evenpeal," Allek said angrily, keeping his voice low. "Beyond keeping our eyes, ears, and feet busy, I've little else to go on at this point."

"Fair enough," Jinn said, glaring at Quessahn as Allek made his way across the street ahead of them. Jinn caught Quessahn's elbow, holding her back a moment. "Any luck with the sigils?"

"Some but nothing very helpful," she answered. "Likely more than the Watch has uncovered yet. If they'd just trust a wizard long enough to-"

"We'll talk later," he replied and followed the rorden. "Until then try to keep in mind that the last victim was Allek's niece and that you're not the only one who cares that people are dying."

Jinn did not look back to see her reaction, though he felt the effect of his words in her ensuing silence. He was not fond of the general distrust of magic some people held, but by the same token, he despised the knee-jerk reactions of magic-users who suspected prejudice at every turn-an effective circle of ignorance begetting yet more ignorance.

Laughter and bright lanterns greeted him as he entered the Storm's Front, a large, curved main floor contoured to the shape of the street, the opposite end bearing a double stairway to a second floor and more private gathering rooms. The interior was well decorated with polished wood tables and chairs, candles at every seating, and an elaborate bar serving cold drinks and hot meals. It seemed to reflect what Jinn suspected to be a wealthy clientele, but it was also less than what he had been expecting. That he and Quessahn had entered without being stopped at the door was evidence of an inclusiveness that some finer establishments of the ward lacked. Several weapons of an ocean-themed nature hung on the walls and a wooden plaque over the bar bore a storm-cloud design over a crude wave of water. The tavern had an air of false roughness, alluding to a true sailors' tavern, though Jinn imagined that the only sailors who had ever entered the place were either long retired or owned small ships that they occasionally visited.

Jinn felt eyes upon him and the eladrin as they crossed the common room, joining Allek at a table that afforded a view of the entire bar and seating area. He caught more than a few sneering looks from the growing crowd and paid them no mind, sitting back and letting his gaze wander from one person to the next, trying to appear casual. He studied clothing, visible weapons, those who were quiet and watchful, and those who laughed and caroused. His eyes were drawn to the roughness or smoothness of exposed palms and took note of their footwear, marking filth and cleanliness, loud heels compared to smooth, quiet soles.

Altogether, he could piece together one suspect from among several familiar traits, though could not attribute any particular crime to the amalgam. No one presented themselves as anything other than what they seemed, and with Allek's admission that several unconnected murderers had already been placed in the Watch's custody, Jinn began to realize the difficulty of the task the Watch had undertaken.

"Rorden Allek!" a young woman at the door called out, extracting herself from a small group of admirers and sauntering over to their table. She was a short, curvy woman festooned with lace and jewels, a tight-fitting crimson dress leaving little to the imagination as she leaned against their table with a conspiratorial wink at the rorden. "How is my favorite niece of yours, Rorden? I haven't seen Alma in ages!"

Jinn noticed a brief shadow cross Allek's features, and Quessahn looked away uncomfortably. However, the rorden composed himself quickly, his voice bearing not the slightest hint of what he truly felt.

"Mistress Lhaerra," he said, "I fear that Alma has taken ill of late-"