Bard Tales: Lina Marde
Disclaimer: I don't own the lands, characters, and concepts in the Forgotten Realms, except for those I created myself.
Elient 8 1369 DR, Year of the Gauntlet
Prologue
The assassin's grey eyes looked to the door as the dark elf entered the room. He was sitting quietly in a chair with his weapons in their sheaths, wearing his dark leathers. His goatee was trimmed and his raven black hair was thick and full. He noted the smile the drow wore on his face. "You seem to be in a cheerful mood," Artemis Entreri said quietly to the drow who wore an eye patch over his left eye.
Jarlaxle nodded and removed his wide brimmed hat with the diatryma feather that covered his baldhead. He was tightly muscled wearing a white silk vest, black leather pants, and high black boots. "We are taking a trip to the Dalelands my friend," the dark elf mercenary said in a quiet voice. Our employer would like to visit a little place called the Hall of Angels."
Entreri stared at Jarlaxle for a moment. "In which city is this temple located? Shadowdale? Battledale?"
"Not even close," Jarlaxle replied with a wide grin. "The Hall of Angels lies in a small spot in the ruins of Myth Drannor. I believe the elves called the set of ruins Lina Marde. Which means Song Hall in the common tongue."
The assassin kept crossed his arms, keeping his eyes on the dark elf. He had never been to Myth Drannor. The only knowledge he had of the once great elven city, that now were nothing more than ruins where demons and devils lurked; were the stories told by many aspiring adventurers who had planned to set out for the ruins and loot the mysterious treasures that were waiting for them. Very few had ever returned from Myth Drannor, and those who did, spoke of beautiful structures, walls with ancient writing, and dangerous monsters that lurked at every corner.
"So we are going to Myth Drannor," Entreri stated in his cold-calm voice. "Why exactly are we going there? What does Ileznara desire from the Hall of Angels?"
"A couple of statues, a painting, and a mirror," Jarlaxle answered.
"A mirror?" Entreri asked, slightly confused. "A mirror?"
"A mirror," the dark elf repeated. "It's suppose to be a beautiful mirror, crafted in gold, with many jewels lined along the edges. Whether its magical or not, she did not say, but from the way she spoke, it sounded like she valued it very much. We will leave in the morning. If we travel by horseback, we can get to Myth Drannor in two days."
"A mirror," the assassin sighed as he grabbed Charon's Claw with the hand that was covered by the black-red stitched gauntlet.