Steven Schend: Blackstaff Tower

The woman's ragged sobs and panicked breathing were audible even where Meloon and Laraelra stood far above them. Laraelra hugged herself, her eyes tearing up at hearing the utter hatred in the man's rough voice. She knew people could be cruel, but she'd never heard it so plain. Fear, anger, and her breakfast all warred in the pit of her stomach and she gulped to hold it down.

Meloon paced and smashed the butt of his axe against the wall, loosening stone fragments to clatter down into the blackness. In the firelight, Laraelra could see the anger in his clenched jaw and knew his imaginary target was the torturer down below in the gloom.

"Well?" the man asked, but there was only a long pause. A hollow laugh, a moist crunch, and a deafening scream followed.

Laraelra and Meloon both jumped in shock. Meloon's face shifted to stern resolve. "Can't we help her?"

She nodded, and whispered, "Let's see if there's a way down."

Laraelra grabbed a stone from the floor, cupped it in her left hand, and whispered at it. In a whirl of sparkles, the stone glowed with a steady blue light. She tossed the stone down into the abyss, and it dropped more than five people's heights before it rattled to a stop. The pale azure light revealed a shattered and nebulous system of tunnels, many of which had melted or collapsed together on at least two levels. Her stone's light merged with the outer edges of their torchlight, showing them at least a drop of at least thirty feet.

"No way we can get down there without ropes and hooks." Meloon groaned.

"No," Laraelra said, "but that doesn't mean we can't guess who's doing this."

Laraelra handed her torch to Meloon and pulled a scroll tube out of her belt pouch. She opened the tube and pulled out the parchments within it, flipping through them until she found what she sought. She explained, "My father keeps detailed maps of every sewer connection and tunnel he knows of down here, and he notes who owns the properties above them as well. I've made copies for whenever I need to come down here."

She squinted at the map and motioned for Meloon to bring the light closer.

"If I'm reading this right, we're beneath Kulzar's Alley and Rook's Alley," she muttered, deep in thought. "There's a block of three conjoined buildings up there."

"So who do we go fight?" Meloon asked.

Laraelra stared at the map, then folded it back up sharply. "No one. We can't do anything."

"Who owns this block?" Meloon asked. "We can't let them get away with this!"

"We have to," Laraelra said. "The block is owned by the Neverembers.''

"The Open Lord?"

"I doubt it. Lord Dagult wouldn't do this. Even if he would, he's got far more secure locations in Castle Waterdeep or beneath the palace." Laraelra thought aloud, "We could go to the Watch, but who will they believer The Open Lord or the daughter of a paranoid guildmaster and her hired sellsword?"

"I don't care," Meloon said. "I need to help that woman. Nobody deserves that-servant, coin-girl, or peasant. And if we have to go the palace and confront the Open Lord, well…"

"No," Laraelra said. "Lord Dagult's too busy with the city. His son Renaer manages all his properties, allegedly. Let's go pay a visit to and get some answers from Lord Neverember the Younger. Unless you'd like to stay down here a while longer?"

"No," Meloon said coldly. "My axe and I want words with Renaer Neverember."

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

"Milord?"

"Yes, Madrak?"

"Apologies at interrupting your breakfast, but you have unexpected callers."

Renaer looked up from his trencher of fried eggs and potatoes and stared at the white-haired halfling whose face barely cleared the table top. Renaer swallowed and said, "Anyone who knows me would not call on me before mid-morn. Who is it?"

Madrak cleared his throat and said, "The Lady Laraelra Harsard, daughter of Guildmaster Malaerigo Harsard of the Cellarers and Plumbers' Guild, and one Meloon Wardragon, sellsword." Madrak's tone left Renaer little question as to his opinion of them.

"I've met Laraelra before at the Wands manse, but never more than to say hello," Renaer thought aloud, "but why she would need a sellsword to come here?"

The halfling harrumphed and said, "They claim to have questions for you about your properties on Kulzar's Alley. They appear to have come directly from the sewers to your door. I took the liberty of receiving them around back at the stables." Renaer smiled. "Thank you for that."

"No thanks needed, young lord. After all, you'd not be the one to clean up the foyer after such, would you?" Madrak said, and then asked, "Shall I tell them to call another time?"

"No," Renaer said, and he got up from the table. "Odd that the guildmaster's daughter herself brings me news of some problem with the cellars or some such. It's the sort of thing normally channeled through low-level guild members and servants." Renaer pulled his napkin out of his shirt front and wiped his mouth, then looked down at the butler at his side. "Could you have Bramal bring me the deeds and keys to those properties? I don't know who's renting them at present, if anyone. That way, we'll be able to deal with any problems directly."

"Very good," Madrak replied. "I took the liberty of asking my son to do just that before I came in here. He'll join you around the stables. Now, don't let these strangers take advantage of you. I've heard tell that the cellarers can back the sewers up into one's vaults simply to shake coins loose from an unsuspecting young lord such as yourself."

Renaer chuckled and patted Madrak on his shoulder. "I appreciate the warning, old hin, but I didn't just fall off a dung-sweeper's cart. Let's see what they have to say before we accuse them of trying to separate me from my gold, hmm?"

Madrak snorted and said, "Lad, you just learned to walk a short tenday ago in my eyes. I'm looking out for you as I promised your good mother when she placed your swaddled self in my arms. You've a good ear for sniffing out falsehoods, but your head for business isn't nearly as keen as your love of books."

"And that is why Bramal conducts the bulk of the family business as my proxy." Renaer knew that Madrak's son and his children were vastly more capable than he would ever be at keeping track of his holdings, collecting rents, and the like. "I trust you and them, Madrak, but today at least I wish to have a hand in my business."

"Does our hearts good to hear that," Madrak said. "It's high time-"

"The Brandarth holdings were seen to by me, not my father?" Renaer said, and the old halfling flushed.

"I'd never say that, young master," Madrak replied, and he and Renaer said in unison, "for it's not my place nor my concern."

Renaer knelt at his butler's side and rested both hands on his shoulders. "Madrak, you and your family have been at my side since I was born. I know that Dagult would have put you out, save for my insistence and the conditions of Mother's will. Never fear. Your family will always have a place in my house-and not just because of the hin-sized servants' passages. You never have to mince words with me, old halfling. I trust your judgment more than my own."

A wry smile appeared on the halfling's lips. "Then you'd best stop leaving guests awaiting your pleasure, milord Renaer. Time to start living up to all your potential and being more than a shut-in scholar or a rake-by-night racing with the Watch." Madrak shooed the young man off. He waved a dismissive hand at the cloak rack by the doors leading into the stables. "Oh, and wear that heavy cloak, milord. Auril's blessed us with a biting cold this morn."