Paul Kemp - Shadow witness

He shook his head in frustration. He was allowing himself to get distracted. It doesn't matter, he thought. Whether Jak had some special divine role to play or not, Gale needed his help, and he thought he knew where to find the little man.

He turned his face into the snow and headed for the gambling dens of the Wharf District.

In Selgaunt, the gaming houses along Nedreyin Street remained open all day and all night. People of all social backgrounds-nobles, transient adventurers, merchants, rogues-gambled as much as their schedules and finances permitted. Even now, despite the dawn hour and cold weather, Nedreyin Street still had its denizens eager to test Tymora's favor on the throw of knucklebones or deal of cards. As Gale watched, a crowd of five loud men in heavy cloaks and winter boots strode past the burly doorman and into the Leering Basilisk, a low quality establishment without an attached eatery. At the same time, a pair of noblemen-probably second sons, not heirs- walked hangdog out of the Scarlet Knave two doors down, no doubt lighter by a few fivestars.

Not yet extinguished by the city's linkboys, the street lamps sputtered fitfully in the wind blowing off Selgaunt Bay. The smell of sea salt and the reek of the nearby fishmongers' stalls filled the cold air-the bay did not entirely freeze over until early in the month of Alturiak, and the city's fishermen habitually worked the waters to the very last. After the horrors he had witnessed on the-other side of the city, Gale welcomed the sight of human beings involved in mundane human affairs and vices.

He walked down the snow-coated street, wary of the shadows in every dark corner. Despite the cold, sleeping drunkards and men who had gambled away their lodging coin lay huddled and shivering under building eaves. Cale eyed them all with a sharp gaze, sure that their cloaks covered gray skin and sharp claws. His concern proved unwarranted-all of them were harmless.

Searching for word of Jak, he moved quickly from gambling house to gambling house and dropped some fivestars to loosen the tongues of the circumspect bartenders and taciturn doormen. Surprisingly, his coins brought no result-no one had seen the little man. He checked Jak's usual haunts twice-the Scarlet Knave, the Bent Coin, the Cardhouse-and heard from the regulars that no one had seen the halfling for weeks. At that, Cale began to worry. While he hadn't expected to find Jak actually gambling at this hour, he had expected to find his friend collapsed in a suite somewhere. That Jak hadn't been seen at all set off alarms in Gale's head. He knew that Yrsillar and his servants already had hit several players in Selgaunt's underworld-no doubt to draw out or find

Cale and this other. If Jak was the other, perhaps the demon had already gotten to him?

Unwilling to consider the possibility, Cale sat at the polished bar of the Cardhouse and spent a silver raven on a cup of warm spiced wine. He drank it down before he headed back outside. By then, dawn had fully broken and the city's red-cloaked Hnkboys had appeared. Nimbly, they sealed the street torches and snuffed the blazing coals with metal hoods. Though overcast, the light of morning dispelled the shadows of night and Cale breathed easy for the first time since fleeing the guild-house. He thought it unlikely that Yrsillar would dare make any moves in the full light of day.

Now as much worried for Jak's well being as wanting the little man's help, Cale made a hard decision. Though he had promised not to return, he knew where he had to go for information about Jak- the Harper safehouse to which Jak had taken him after the affair with the Zhentarim. Brelgin and the Harpers there would know how to reach Jak. if they still used the safehouse. They had not been pleased when Cale had learned of its location and might have decided to abandon it as compromised.

There's only one way to find that out, he thought.

He walked back through the quickly crowding, snowy streets and headed for the Warehouse District. Once there, he navigated from memory a maze of back alleys, cul-de-sacs, and small storehouses until he reached the one-story Harper safehouse. The ramshackle brick building looked like any number of similar, unnamed office buildings hi the district – inconspicuous for its mundanity. Having once fled with Jak up from Selgaunt's sewers into its basement, Cale knew the structure to have a secret lower level three times the area of the surface.

Through the falling snow, he could see two heavily cloaked men lounging casually against the wooden porch posts. Neither wore visible iron, but their oversized winter cloaks could have concealed a dwarven great axe. Alert expressions and wary eyes belied their uncaring stances-Harper guards. They had to be. So the Harpers did still use the safehouse, and he might still find Jak. He breathed a sigh of relief.

He walked out from the alley and toward the sentries with empty hands in evidence. They stiffened at his approach and stepped down from the porch onto the narrow, unpayed street. Though the guards' cloak hoods shadowed most of their features, Cale still recognized one of the two from his encounter with the Harpers in the sewers. A thin, short fellow with slanted green eyes that indicated an elf ancestor not more than two generations removed. The other guard, a heavyset man of medium height, Cale did not remember. He wasted no time with idle greetings.

"I need to see Brelgin," he announced when he drew close. Prom his previous encounter with the Harpers, Cale knew Brelgin to be in charge of the safehouse. "Now."

"Brelgin?" said the heavyset guard, There's no Brelgin here-"

"Save it," interrupted Cale. "I know what you are and what this building is." He turned to the half-elf, threw back his own hood to reveal his bald head, and asked in elvish, "Do you remember me?"

The half-elfs almond eyes flashed recognition. "I remember you," he replied in common.

"Good," Cale said. "Then maybe you can answer my question and save Brelgin and I the agony of a meeting. I'm looking for Jak Fleet. You know I'm a friend. Where can I find him?"

At the mention of the little man, the half-elf'sexpression grew thoughtful. Cale didn't like his silence.

"What?" Cale asked, alarmed. He advanced a step on the naif-elf and barely resisted fee urge to grab the smaller man by the shoulders and shake him. "What's happened?" Cale had a terrible vision of Jak's small body sucked empty by the shadow demon.

The half-elf'seyes found the street. "You'll have to ask Brelgin, Erevis Cale. It's not my place." He poked a finger into Gale's chest. "Wait here."

"Wait-"

Both Harpers turned, bounded up the porch steps, and vanished into the safehouse.

Concerned, but knowing better than to follow them unasked into the safehouse, Cale walked to the porch, sat on the rail, and awaited Brelgin.

Within a few minutes, the tall Harper leader emerged, hastily wrapped against the cold in a green cloak. Brelgin had shaved his blond beard since last they had met, but Cale could not mistake the arrogance in the Harper leader's eyes. He stood to face him.

"You were told never to come here again, Cale." Brelgin spat Cale's name like a curse. "You could've been followed by one of the snakes you chum with. If you've compromised us," he looked up and down the empty back street, advanced a step, and stared into Cale's face, "111 see to it you're made sorry."

Cale bit back the urge to choke this arrogant ass where he stood. For Jak's sake, he ignored the threat, swallowed his anger, and managed an even tone. "I'm looking for Fleet."

"I know."

Cale scrutinized his race. "Where is he?"

Brelgin hesitated an instant too long before answering. "He's away on organization business."

Cale knew he was lying. He grabbed the Harper leader by the cloak and jerked him close.