Ed Greenwood - All Shadows Fled

For just a moment, the proud priest looked like a young boy-a young boy on the verge of tears. "She did?" he asked, his voice rising in wonder.

"Yes," Shaerl said, "and I've never known her judgment to be wrong yet. I feel as if you are an old friend."

Argast leaned a trifle closer to Amdramnar and muttered, "She's smooth, this one."

Amdramnar agreed with the slightest of nods, but just then the doors between the audience chamber and the forecourt scraped open and three farm folk came out. "The gods bless him!" the stout old woman in the forefront was saying.

"If he keeps his promise," her hired hand said doubtfully as they went out, not even seeing the two people on the bench.

The old woman turned and poked out a bony finger. "Now ye list and learn, Thurton! If there's one thing this young lord of ours does, it's keep his word! When my man, Undlejack, was still alive, he won a hand of card's off Mourngrym, playin' the night away at the Old Skull, and the lord asked him his price… A new roof, my man says, as bold as anything-'cuz that's what we needed, in truth-an' the next day, gods be blowed if the lord doesn't show up with half a dozen guards, n' do the roof right then! The lord himself, up on our cottage, sweatin' along with the rest of 'em! And when he's done, he asks if we want the fence set straight, seein' as they're here… an' up comes a cart, after, when we're talkin'-and out of it he serves us a feast, an' the neighbors what come to watch, too! Tells us it's no more'n we deserve!"

She turned and marched out of the forecourt, then pivoted back to face the astonished Thurton. "Ye find me another lord anywhere as does that for me-an' others what ain't high and mighty, an' can't do him anything great in return! Ye'll be lookin' from the Sword Coast to the weird lands past Thay, an' not be findin' one, neither!"

Another two dalefolk strode out, one of them weeping, and the other walking awkwardly beside her. "Now, Nan-he can't raise to life someone he can't find! He did say he'd walk you around those laid out in the temple for burial, to see if we can find him. No one could do more."

The next person to come to the door was Mourngrym, his face pinched with sorrow. Shaerl leapt up and threw her arms around him. "My love," she said in a low, tender voice as their arms tightened around each other. He kissed her gently, as if they were alone in the room, before lifting his head and saying, "Shaerl, ask Thurbal to pass the word. No one's seen Aglyn's grandsire since the battle, and Nan's beside herself not knowing. If anyone…"

Mourngrym's gaze fell upon the priest of Tyr, waiting patiently to be introduced, and his face lit up. "Most Holy Arbeth! Be welcome, please, in Shadowdale! I'm sorry I didn't see you at once! Have you eaten?"

"If we could talk for just a few breaths, Lord Mourngrym, I'd be delighted to dine with you and your beautiful lady. I'd hoped also to meet the Lady Storm, but I hear she's… not to be found."

"That is so, I fear," Mourngrym said, "but come in, and we'll talk, the three of us-oh, yes: my lady and I rule as one." The priest's eyebrows were still raised as the doors of the audience chamber swung shut behind the three of them.

"He's a good ruler," Amdramnar said grudgingly.

"All the better for us, then," Argast said. "Let him manage our cattle until we're ready to rule here."

"Our foes the three bold rangers seem to have just departed on patrol… do we chase after them?"

"No, let them go. They'll return to us-and then we'll feed."

"Eat them?"

"Yes-I mean to eat them alive, limb by limb, slowly, while they plead. We'll use our everfire wand to seal the joints and keep them living. They may last several days."

"And then?"

"Then we'll reveal ourselves, and start on the rest of these cattle."

They had just time to fall silent and look as if they'd been that way for some time when a tall, silver-haired figure strode through the front doors, exchanged a salute, a wink, and a blown kiss that left old Guthtar blushing, turned into the forecourt, and strode to the audience chamber doors.

Argast turned. "Ah, my La-"

"Hist!" Amdramnar and Guthtar said together, reaching to silence him. Storm turned, gave them all a cheery wave, and flung the doors wide.

"That's Lady Storm!" Guthtar snarled in a whisper. "Never stop her going anywhere!" By common accord, the three guards had moved hurriedly to look through the closing doors-in time to see Storm, with a joyous laugh, sweep the justicar of Tyr up into the air as if he was a boy, then bring him down to her lips.

"Ye gods," Argast said, for Guthtar's benefit. "Guarding folk around here's going to be a lot more interesting than I'd dared hope!"

"A lot more fun, too," Guthtar whispered hoarsely, and trotted back to his post.

The two Malaugrym exchanged glances. These folk of Faerun seemed to care for each other a lot more than any of the blood of Malaug ever had… and laughed a lot more, too…

Tower of Mortoth, Sembia, Flamerule 29

Cold fire flickered, and Irendue was free of the endless nothingness and blinking away tears to stare into the darkly handsome face of one of the cruel shapeshifters… a human face whose eyes were two dark flames.

Irendue swallowed as he took her hand and lowered her gently to the privy chamber floor. The air was cool on her bare skin. She shivered as the monster smiled at her.

"You won't hurt me?" she pleaded, voice quavering despite herself.

"Not yet, Lady." He drew her firmly out of the room, past the humming lines of white fire that held the suspended bodies of the master and her two fellow apprentices.

"My name is Bralatar," he said as he guided her into the study and sat her in the master's chair. Once she was seated, two tentacles slid gently around her wrists, and another captured both of her ankles, but their coils held her loosely, almost gently.

"What do you want of me?" she whispered. "And where is… the other one?"

"Not far away, exploring this impressive estate," Bralatar replied, "but we can speak more freely later… after you've shown me how to do a certain something with this."

He held up Mortoth's crystal ball. The glossy sphere, larger than a man's head, shone back the fire of his eyes. His smile was not a pleasant thing to see.

"You won't hurt me?" she pleaded, trembling under his tentacles as she fought for calm.

The Malaugrym smiled softly. "Not yet, so long as you are obedient, Lady… not yet." Blackstaff Tower, Waterdeep, Flamerule 29

"1 understand Storm's concern about their living on to rise behind her and slay again after the battle seems won," Khelben muttered in exasperation, "but when one uses Mystra's fire on anything, not a lot is left to work with!"

"Alassra turned a dozen or more Malaugrym into mushrooms at Irythkeep," Laeral reminded him, "and they fell from a height to shatter on rocks. Surely some residue remains there, however small, that we could use…"

"Then go to the Cavern Perilous and cast whatever is needful to bring some of that residue here!"

Laeral glided close to plant a fond kiss on the ear of the lord mage of Waterdeep as he stood staring and sweating into the heart of a slowly spinning magical construct in the air before him. She left the chamber.

The construct wavered, billowed varicolored smoke, and collapsed, flying apart into spreading motes of dust and light. Khelben "Blackstaff" Arunsun gave the scattering residue his best scowl, sighed, and strode to his favorite armchair. For more than a day now, with Laeral at his side, he'd been working feverishly on a spell to trace Malaugrym or prevent them from shapeshifting freely… preferably both.

He sipped at the elverquisst in his glass, turning it slightly so that the flecks of gold in the smooth, iridescent heart of the ruby liquor sparkled in the light of Laeral's latest spell-a spell that conjured a ring of dancing radiances that looked like candle flames.