Steven Schend: Blackstaff Tower

He stood at the center of a semicircular table's arc, his father straight ahead of him and in full regalia as the city's Open Lord. To see his father reminded Renaer that father and son shared much in looks and manners. Long brown manes tumbled past both their sets of muscular shoulders, though Dagult's hair tended more toward pumpkin while Renaer's locks were almost a chestnut brown. Both men preferred to remain clean-shaven, though Renaer's stubbly chin bespoke his past few days of hard pursuit and toil. They both wore clothes of good solid workmanship and tailoring, but while Renaer's clothes were subtle and simply better-made than many of those around him, Dagult stood out, a blazon of color and sartorial excess in his black velvet cloak, ermine-lined vest, red Shou-silk shirt, and the Aglarondan hip boots of deep crimson leather. Dagult's face wore an expression of deep disgust and impatience.

To each side of Dagult sat thtee gray-robed and gray-helmed Lords. As usual, they appeared identical in form and stature, regardless of whomever wore the helm and robes. No details of gender, girth, or infirmities could be discerned through the robes, as the Open Lotd Ahghairon had designed them long ago.

Behind the Lords loomed a giant bulldog of a man, Lord's Champion Vorgan Drulth, looking uncomfortable in his fotmal uniform as the Open Lord's personal bodyguard. Renaer noted he wore metal sleeves over each of his index fingers, both sharp as claws, and other weapons bulged conspicuously from his boots, sleeves, and belt.

Dagult opened the proceedings by unfurling a scroll and reading it to the court. From the comer of his eye Renaer noticed a quill untouched by any hand, scribbling away the transcript onto a thick tome at a stand in a side alcove.

"Let this Lords' Court be convened on the mattet of the death of Samark Dhanzscul, the Blackstaff; the murder of Vajra Safahr, heir of the Blackstaff; and the deaths of Ramok of Red Larch, Jarlan of Waterdeep, andBaentham of Luskan," Dagult said. "Given that the accused is my own son, I have an obvious conflict of interest here. I therefore recuse myself from this proceeding's judgement, but stay in accotd with the traditions of the Lords' Court."

Dagult stepped back, handing the scroll off to a masked Lord who had entered the chamber behind him. The same dark robes and helm enshrouded this Lotd as they did the other six. The seventh masked Lord stepped into Dagult's place, sat down, and intoned in a hollow, toneless voice, "The accused stands before us. How does he plead to his Lords?"

"Innocent of all charges, milords," Renaer said. Gasps erupted among his guards, the packed gallery of observers, and also from a few of the Lords themselves. Renaer continued, "I beg my Lords' indulgence, but could you identify the last three names you noted?"

The masked Lord on Renaer's far left stood and pointed at him.

"They swing from the shadowtop in Ravencourt, as the tree refuses to give up its dead. We have more than two handfuls of witnesses claiming you led them there to their deaths, and either you or your pet wizard cast the spell that slew them."

"Hardly, but thank you for identifying them. I knew not their names."

This elicited a fresh set of gasps from the gallery and even one shouted, "Hang him too, then!" before the presiding Lord pounded a gavel on the table.

Renaer continued, keeping the proceedings in his favor. "In fact, I am not guilty of any deaths laid before me this morn. Four fell by others' hands and one is not dead, as you all may have heard with her pronouncement at dawn."

"That can be faked," the accusing Lord said, sitting again. "And if not by your hand, all others died at your orders."

"No," the fifth Lord said. "I was on the streets this morning. I saw Vajra atop Blackstaff Tower. Only a Blackstaff true could hold the staff with the wolf's head, make the tower glow silver, and send that pronouncement throughout the city." The Lord's helm turned in Renaer's direction, and asked, "I would know, young Neverember, if Vajra be not dead, who lies in the Castle's crypts with your weapons in her heart and eye?"

"You will probably need the Watchful Order to dispel some illusions on her body," Renaer said. "As for who it is, I suspect it might be an agent who failed my foes-a woman who called herself Charrar. I lost two daggers and a short sword over the past few days due to haste and peril. It would have been an easy matter for my foes to gather and use them."

"And those strangers were party to their deaths?" A new Lord chimed in, pounding a fist on the table in emphasis.

Renaer paused, thinking his way through his personal library. "If my Lords would have their staff consult Quallon of the Six Fingers' book Ghosts and Spectres Vengeful-or their own court transcripts from multiple incidents between 1268 and 1300-they will find ample evidence that Magister Pallak Nharrelk's ghost judged and sentenced those men, not I. His presence beneath and in the Magistree killed those men, for they were unpunished for previous crimes."

"What prevarication is this? Centuries-old scrolls cannot help your cause!"

"They will," Renaer said. "Ravencourt's three-centuiies-old shadowtop is all that remains of the House Nharrelk noble villa. Buried beneath that tree is a magister of the city who was slain by the corrupt Guildmasters who overthrew the Lords for a brief time two hundred years ago."

The presiding Lord flinched at that and paused, but said, "This court shall recess to test the accuracy of the defendant's statements. Until we reconvene, you are a prisoner and shall-"

As the other Lord was speaking, a court aide had approached another of the Lords and whispered to the side of the helm. That Lord nodded once, twice, and then held up a hand to intetrupt both the aide and the presiding judge. "My aide Urlath supports what the accused has stated. The Hanging Tree of Ravencourt, while inactive for more than a century, has been deemed a rightful arm of the Lords' Justice and thus none can be held accountable for deaths caused by it save the victims themselves."

"What of sworn testimony from a guildmaster that you are responsible for torturing young women in hidden cellars beneath a property of yours?" said another Lord. Renaer found it iiritating that all the Lords spoke in the same hollow, nondescript voice.

Renaer had to fight off both the lurch of fear in his stomach and a smile, admiring the deftness at which Ten-Rings covered his own tracks. He paced a moment, collecting his thoughts, and then said, "What we do on our own properties to consenting peoples is our own affair, a code to which each of you Lords, if unmasked, would attest. What we do to those unwilling is actionable, I agree. I'd like to face my accuser in open court and send the same charges at him, for he seeks to place his crimes on me. I proclaim Khondar

Naomal of the Watchful Order, the mage oft-called "Ten-Rings," a traitor to the city and one of two persons guilty of the crimes of which I am accused and more. I would accuse another, but he remained cloaked behind illusions. His co-conspirator walked the streets as Samark "Blackstaff" Dhanzscul for at least this last tenday, if not longer."

Tumult erupted both on the floor of the Lords' Court and up above in the gallery of witnesses. As the presiding Lord tried to gavel the crowd into order, Renaer yelled, "I demand a private audience! It is my right as a citizen of Waterdeep to plead my case to the Open Lord before any trial or senrencing is final." With his first statement, Renaer himself quelled the crowd to a watchful silence.

"The Open Lotd recused himself from these proceedings," the presiding Lord said.

Another of the Lords spoke up. "Regardless, it is the boy's right as a citizen."

Five other Lords nodded in agreement and looked to Dagult. The one closest to Dagult said, "As it is our right to hold the Open Lord accountable for judgments he proclaims in our collective name."