Jeff Crook - The Thieves’ Guild

“Look who is here,” Cael said, pointing him out.

“Arach Jannon,” the dwarf snorted in “They say he knows everything that passes within Palanthas, that he sits in his chamber beneath the Lord’s Palace like a great spider, controlling the web of informants and spies that he has spun across this city. No deed goes unmarked, no cargo landed, no missive dispatched by secret courier, no seditious word whispered, but that he knows about it. He is the Judge of Law of the city, a man to be feared. His is also the special duty of protecting the Founderstone and investigating its power.”

“A Gray Robe, eh?” Cael noted. “Is his magic powerful?”

The dwarf shot him a suspicious glance. “I suppose. Despite his looks, he is not a man to be trifled with, I hear. He is clever and ruthless. They say it was he who brought the old Thieves’ Guild low. Those warriors you see around him are his handpicked guard. The Nine Axes they are called, very dangerous men, the best in all Solamnia. They are not Knights of Takhisis, so they are not above a knife in the back. They guard the Founderstone day and night, and are but one strand in a larger net of traps and foils. Look!”

At the center of the stage stood a man imploring the crowd to silence. He was a small, elderly fellow with a balding head and a groomed goatee protruding from his weak chin. With each pleading gesture for silence, the crowd grew less respectful, beginning to jeer.

“The Lord Mayor of Palanthas,” the dwarf shouted. “Xavier uth Nostran. What a fool.” Turning round, he found his elf companion gently loosening the pursestrings of their nearest neighbor-a wine importer by the name of Jevor Kannigan. Kharzog elbowed the elfin the ribs and trod on his foot with one heavy dwarven boot. Cael reluctantly left the merchant’s fat purse where it hung and returned his attention to the festivities.

People were shouting good-natured obscenities at Lord Xavier, suggesting that he assume all sorts of impossible body positions. Some of the nobles and senators on the stage chuckled in embarrassment. Finally, a tall, powerfully built man wearing the black armor of the Knights of Takhisis rose pointedly to his feet. The crowd quieted somewhat, though they felt safe enough in their numbers to hurl a few curses even at the Lord Knight of the City, Sir Kinsaid. He stared ominously out at them as though memorizing their faces for fixture reference, and soon the jeering abated.

“People of Palanthas,” the lord mayor said in a high, reedy voice. “Before the ceremonies continue, our great champion, the Lord Knight of the City of Palanthas, Sir Elstone Kinsaid, has an important announcement to make, which I am sure shall greatly benefit us all.” His voice scraped an octave higher on the words “important announcement,” causing many in the crowd to wince at his words. Few important announcements made by Sir Kinsaid had ever benefited anyone but the Knights of Takhisis. Lord Xavier cringingly resumed his seat.

With a final scathing glance round, Sir Kinsaid unrolled the scroll he had been clutching, and, holding it up formally, began to announce in a booming voice. “People of Ansalon and all the lands of Krynn, citizens of Palanthas, lords, ladies, and gentlemen, let it be known, by order of the Lord of the Night, Sir Morham Targonne, that from this day forward, the noble chivalric order formerly known as the Knights of Takhisis shall be known as the Knights of Neraka.”

His voice echoed around the suddenly quiet plaza. People stared open-mouthed at the stage, awaiting some sort of explanation. None was forthcoming. Sir Kinsaid let the scroll snap shut, lowered his arms, and after gazing once more around the crowd, returned to his seat.

After a few moments’ hesitation, Lord Xavier rose and returned to the front of the stage. He glanced back at the Lord Knight, but Sir Kinsaid simply folded his arms across his chest and set his lips in a grim line. His glacial blue eyes stared straight ahead.

“Thank… thank you, Sir Kinsaid,” Xavier stuttered, then continued, turning back to the crowd. “And thank you citizens of Palanthas for making this the largest and most, uh, enjoyable Spring Dawning Festival in half a century,” the Lord Mayor proclaimed. The crowd applauded politely, quieting expectantly after a few moments.

“Today is perhaps more special than any day in this city’s long and colorful history,” the Lord Mayor continued. “For today, a great artifact has returned to us. Long have we mourned its loss…”

The dwarf snorted in derision.

“…but today it shall see the light of day again, to spread its glory and blessing so that all may wonder and be proud. Today, the heart of Palanthas is returned, the stone that signified that Paladine had indeed blessed this city…”

The Lord Knight shifted uncomfortably, but Xavier continued unabashed “…and that was so rudely stolen from us after it was given to the city by the Hammerfell dwarves.”

“Well, at least he mentioned us,” the old dwarf muttered under his breath. Cael smiled.

“For over two thousand years it lay hidden in the bowels of the ancient and wicked Thieves’ Guild, until four years ago, when the Knights of Takhisis… er, Knights of Neraka, led by Sir Kinsaid, crushed the accursed Guild under its heel, laying waste to their houses and lairs, jailing their members or driving them out of this city forever!”

“Are there no more thieves in Palanthas, Grandfather?” Cael asked. The dwarf loosed a loud guffaw, but said nothing.

“Even so, little did we suspect the significance of the curious stone we found among the thousands of other treasures discovered in Thieves’ House,” Lord Xavier continued. “To even the amateur eye, it was beautiful, and could be reckoned priceless. But its true importance remained unsuspected until one of our most respected citizens, Bertrem of the Great Library, discovered a little-known document describing the history of the Founderstone. It is a long and fascinating history…”

“And largely untrue,” the dwarf muttered.

“…that shall surely be put into verse by one of our talented bards before much longer,” the lord of Palanthas said.

“Show us the stone!” someone in the crowd shouted. This was Xavier’s big speech of the afternoon. The crowd feared he might go on forever.

“Show us the stone! Show us the stone!” Others took up the cry, until Lord Xavier’s voice was lost in the noise. Finally, the lord mayor threw up his hands, smiled and nodded acquiescently. He motioned to the Thorn Knight, Sir Arach Jannon. The shouts of the crowd changed to hurrahs.

The old dwarf gripped Cael’s hand as the Gray Robe came forward, fidgeting with something in his robe. Cael winced but otherwise held tightly to his friend’s knobby old hand.

Sir Arach removed something from the depths of his robes, and with a ceremonial flourish held it out, cupped in his outstretched hands. A glowing, pinkish light welled forth. The crowd fell silent.

With a brilliant flash, a light like a star erupted from the Thorn Knight’s hands. Shimmering cascades of sparks fell about him and spilled across the stage. A gasp of awe and wonder escaped the crowd, and even the skeptics stood spellbound by the sight. There seemed to be a quiet music in the air, like pipes and chimes heard across a sylvan valley.

“It is more beautiful than I ever imagined,” the old dwarf sighed.

The Founderstone pulsed with light, as though in the warmth of the spring sun it felt its life stirring again after a long sleep. People began to laugh without knowing why. joyous singing broke out all over the Great Plaza. The old dwarf broke into a hymn to Reorx, chanting and roaring in the terse language of his people. Tears streamed into his beard. Cael clutched his hand, his own astonished eyes wide with wonder and delight.