Steven Schend: Blackstaff Tower

Khondar panted, in pain and blooded by the attacks, but he still limped up the stairs by leaning on the railing. His free hand moved furiously, preparing a spell. "I've no time for this or for you. My destiny awaits, but I neither want you three to escape my wrath, nor do I want to damage my house overmuch."

Ten-Rings cast his spell as Laraelra lunged for the duskstaff on the stairs below her, but she could not wrap her hands around it and only shoved it along.

All three of them yelled as the world flipped, and they fell upward.

Meloon grunted as he slammed into the underside of the stairs above him, but Osco and Laraelra, who were closer" to the railing, fell up toes over brows all the way to the top of Roarke House. They lay stunned and groaning against the skylight four stories above the hard marble floor below. Ten-Rings stood at the railing, his feet hooked to its underside, while his robes and cloak fell upward. Strangely, the duskstaff made no noise at all when it fell upward to cling to the jagged perch under the stairs near Meloon.

"I'll not waste another spell on you lot," Khondar said, but he held onto the railing with white knuckles. He gritted his teeth as the red gem on his left forefinger ring glowed with regenerative magic, and his wounds closed.

"Khondar, catch!" Meloon yelled from above him.

The wizard's attention snapped upward, and he saw the warrior using his short sword to flip something at him against the pull of the reversed gravity. The duskstaff flipped end over end, and reflex brought up Khondar's arm and hand to catch it or fend it off. The staff settled against his palm with a crackle, and Khondar's eyes went wide as he remembered what happened when unworthies touched a Blackstaff.

The explosion blew Khondar up the stairs and through the stained glass window, launching him out across Gunarla's Dash and onto the roof of Kendall's Gallery. From his odd vantage point, Meloon could see the wizard laying stunned. Meloon and his friends remained pinned helplessly by his spell. I've got to try to get them before the spell ends, Meloon thought, or they'll fall. Maybe I can reach Elra's staff…

Meloon strained against the spell's pressure, sat up, and lashed his belt at the twisted remnants of the stair's railing. It caught, and Meloon yanked hard to pull himself down before the belt came loose again. He stood on the stairs, hooking his feet on the railing as Khondar had done. He looked up and saw his friends stunned atop the house. He called to them without response.

Meloon worked his way up along the railing, bridging the gap in the railing carefully toward the open window. By the time Meloon reached the breach to look out, Ten-Rings stood atop the far roof, glaring at him through the shattered window. Meloon could see two flashes of blue and green light on Khondar's fingers. The axe spun in his grasp, but the wizard held Azuredge over his head with some effort. He yelled, "Revenge can wait, but victory cannot. Rekarlenf" aad was gone.

Meloon howled, "No!" but was heard only by passersby in the alley outside, drawn out by curiosity and the noise of the battle in the early morn. He felt his stomach flip again, and his feet landed back on the stairs. He watched the slightly stirring Osco and Laraelra began their long fall to the floor below.

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

Khondar "Ten-Rings" Naomal reappeared at the apex of the conical t oof of Ahghairon's Tower. He halted a moment, assured that one of his rings would keep him aloft. His regenerative ring had healed his wounds, but he growled in discomfort from the aches in his back and arm, exacerbated by the axe that spun in his hand and fought to be released from his grip. He held it immobile with both hands and whispered, "Calm yourself Azuredge. Help me uncover the secrets of your maker. That's all that matters now-the tower and its secrets."

Khondar scanned the dingy rooftops and thick cooksmoke, the sprawl of Fields Ward and Mountainside, and the filth of the harbor and its morass of wood that was the Mistshote. He surveyed all and smiled grimly. "Soon, those secrets will make all this mine, and it will shine under wizards' rule. I shall restore its glory, and they shall call me the Inheritor of Ahghairon!" He looked down at the twitching axe and said, "And we shall find you a far better wielder with whom you can defend the Wizard-City of the North. Fot now, open the door."

The winds whipped light snow around him as Khondar swung the axe down on the magical field and the crest of the tower's roof.

The impact sounded like a thunderclap, and blue fires suffused the fields all around the tower. Khondar flinched, then realized the effect simply merged Azuredge's magic with the fields, harming him not. He laughed and slowly sank through the first magical field up to his waist. "Thank you, idiot and axe both, for your unwitting help!"

Khondar threw his cloak back behind his shoulders. From beneath the bracer on his right forearm he pulled one of the wands he'd stolen from Blackstaff Tower. He dropped the white ash wand point first onto the surface of the fields, and it lit up the second field with gold energy and emitted another thunderclap before it sank into the magic. The wand remained half-embedded inside the translucent field, the magic fading to a light yellow color. Khondar sank through the fields, the biting wind only reaching his head, shoulders, and heart outside the fields. He smiled, feeling only elation at his impending control of the city.

His grin faded when he saw opposition headed for him. "The fools would try to stop me. It is now time to show them Ten-Rings was ever their better."

"Hang on!" Eltalon Vaundrar's voice rose from its usual mutter to warn his companions as the graying wizard steered his flying carpet through some crosswinds. They dipped close to the near-empty market, its open spaces given over to sellswords or cart races as winter set in and wares for sale were no more 'till spring. Maerla Windmantle and Eiruk Weskur clung to the edges of the flying carpet, their faces serious as heartstop. Eltalon said, "The Black-staff didn't warn you or us in time, boy!"

"Look at Ahghairon's Tower!" Eiruk Weskur pointed, and the three of them saw the plume of blue fire that surrounded one of the most sacred magical sites of the city. "He's not just robbing me of memories or honor-he's out to steal Waterdeep's greatest secrets!"

"Of that, I'm hardly surprised," Eltalon said. "Maerla, once we're in range, hit him with a cacaphonic burst while I try a feeble-mind on the bastard. Eiruk, hit him with whatever you have. We may only get one or two passes to stop him."

Eiruk gritted his teeth and hugged himself as they flew into the wind and the biting flurry. He kept his attention on the tower as the three of them slalomed around chimneys and taller buildings. Once within range, Eiruk cast the most powerful spell he had with the longest reach, and a ball of fire streaked out of his palm toward Ten-Rings. The fireball engulfed the top of Ahghairon's Tower.

Khondar's smile faded, even though the flames washed around him harmlessly. An apprentice-level spell, he thought, one easily ignored. Ten-Rings willed his blue-stone ring away in favor of another, which he activated the moment it arrived. Addirional defenses fell into place around him.

With his other hand, Khondar cast a spell behind the southward side of the tower. A massive hand formed from magical force appeared and hovered out of the approaching guildmasters' sights. Ten-Rings held his concentration to maintain the magical hand. He felt but ignored the buffeting and blasting maelstrom of noise around him-Maerla's spell, no doubt. One of his rings protected him from what he knew would be Eltalon's standard mental attack. He saw them now-Eltalon, Maerla, and Eiruk-on the flying carpet speeding toward him-and their doom.