"You are sure?" Szass Tam asked, expecting confirmation.
"Of course. The Emperor has left Undermountain. Both he and Halaster yet live."
"And he still knows nothing of our plans?"
"Need you ask? I have done my part, Tam. It is whether you are capable of doing yours that I doubt."
"The Rashemi?" Szass Tam chuckled. "They pose no threat, even with their new allies."
"Do not underestimate them! The grey hunters are relentless!"
"As are the Rashemi, but they are too few to make any difference. I am dealing with it personally. The Emperor should be your main concern."
"The Emperor is not on our very doorstep! Halaster has set him on a futile chase. The Rashemi are the immediate threat."
"You are too afraid. Immediate they may be, but they are in no position to threaten Thaymount. Even in a worst-case scenario, we shall be finished long before they could strike against us."
Szass Tam sighed and dismissed the vision. It was a good enough alliance, and he had more confidence in him than in the zulkirs he'd bargained with, but nevertheless, he was not entirely satisfactory. Putting these thoughts aside, he summoned up the second ally he needed to speak to.
"Yaphyll. You have news?"
"Yes, most revered. It would be easier to show you in person, if I may?"
Szass Tam considered for a moment. It was acceptable. He chanted a few words of a teleportation spell and the surrounds resolved themselves into Yaphyll's laboratory. The zulkir of divination had prepared a summoning circle, traced out in diamond dust. Yaphyll bowed to Tam and began chanting herself. Eldritch flames assembled in the circle's centre. In the midst of their crackling two dark slits of eyes presented themselves.
Who calls upon Lord Nasdrubaal of the five hundred and thirty fifth? it spoke.
Neither answered the question. Both were experienced enough wizards to know of the power implicit in names, and that they should not speak theirs in a demon lord's presence.
"Most revered, this demon was recently summoned by the drow of Menzoberranzan, and banished shortly thereafter. The circumstances of that banishment involve our mutual enemies."
"Explain," Szass Tam said, addressing the demon.
You will know soon enough,, it sniggered. You have been blinded by your focus on the Emperor. Do you think he came alone? His primarchs stir in the west. Your tharchs will be laid to waste!
Yaphyll made a series of sharp gestures.
It was Sanguinius, the demon said, smarting with pain. The drow are in uproar. He will emerge into the sunlit lands soon. You have not accounted for this, have you?
"No one else knows this?" Tam asked.
"Of course, most revered."
The demon laughed again. Go on, lay your plans… you cannot control what I failed to. I shall be glad to be on another plane when your efforts collapse.
"Is there more?"
"Not of substance. This 'Sanguinius' was captured by the drow, escaped, and slew this demon when the drow summoned it in a bid to match him. Presumably he would seek to return to the Emperor."
"This is a problem, Yaphyll. You will monitor Sanguinius' actions and continue to report them to me. Under no circumstances inform our guests."
You would not be so deluded as to believe Sanguinius is the only agent of the Emperor in Faerun, would you? Though a mere set of eyes in a flame had a limited range of expression, Nasdrubaal nonetheless carried off extreme smugness. Yaphyll gestured again, inflicting further pain on the demon lord.
No, I think not, it said. I have said my piece. Your struggles will be amusing to watch.
The flame started fading out, and though Yaphyll made frantic efforts to reinforce the summoning, she could not prevent the demon's departure.
"Other agents?" Tam queried.
The zulkir of divination stammered out a handful of excuses. If their knowledge of the interlopers was incomplete…
"No matter," Szass Tam said sharply. "Focus on Sanguinius. I shall investigate this myself."

_______________________________________________________________________________

Piergeiron cast an angry gaze across the body of lords. They all knew what had happened, of course, and at least one of them was responsible. Someone had apparently thought it was a good idea to arrest the stranger, the one with no place in the Weave, by force. Piergeiron's agents had seen him leave the Yawning Portal, and doubtless the others too had had their spies present. Thus they all saw that when a Red Wizard and what appeared, to the naked eye, to be an olive-skinned mercenary in battered armour, left the inn they ran straight into a substantial detachment of the City Guard – not the Watch – supervised by a Masked Lord in full regalia.
"We are all fortunate he chose to come willingly," Piergeiron scowled.
"Need I remind you all that we still don't know what we're dealing with? Whoever or whatever that person is, he's clearly powerful enough that Khelben Arunsun was afraid of him. Arresting him was foolhardy at best. Our duty is to provide for the safety of the city first and foremost, for those of you that have evidently forgotten."
He made no attempt to hide his anger. The Lords of Waterdeep were supposed to provide a united front to the city; he could not undo what had been done. There would have to be punishments, in time, but for now, he, and they, had no choice but to go along with it.
"What's done is done," one lord ventured. "What are we to do now?"
"What is known of the man?"
"He calls himself Nicos," another answered. "He also had the temerity to point out that he had broken no laws of Waterdeep, civil or religious."
"And we will not detain a man who has committed no crime," Piergeiron emphasised. "We are not tyrants."
"Of course," responded another lord, waving a placating hand. "But as you have so kindly pointed out, our duty is to Waterdeep first and foremost, and he is a potential threat."
"He refused to speak to the City Guard," one said. Piergeiron noted that each lord was avoiding saying too much, to avoid the suspicion that they had been the one to arrest him.
"Nothing at all," the same lord continued. "We know little more than when we started, and all immediate divinations turned up short. He requested to speak with this council."
"We cannot grant this! First Khelben, now this stranger? We are not to be bullied like some jury!"
"What else would you have us do? Sit here and wait forever? As the Open Lord says, we cannot hold him indefinitely. What are we to do, if not grant his audience?"
"My colleague is correct! We must grant this audience!"
Despite some grumbling, the majority were in favour of speaking to the stranger. Piergeiron took some comfort in that they were at least still that sane.

Nicos was brought in then, slowly. He was accompanied by two of the City Guard, but it was obvious to Piergeiron that they were there only because he allowed it. Nicos did not carry himself with any fear or timidity. On the contrary, he stood erect and regarded each lord openly.
"You have questions," he said. "Ask, and I may answer."
The lords began with dull, conventional questions. His name, homeland, business in Waterdeep, and so on. In each case, he gave plausible if unremarkable answers. Nicos was not, in itself, an unusual name, nor was it particularly odd that a displaced mercenary from the Lake of Steam should find himself looking for work in Waterdeep, nor that he should sign on with a Red Wizard interested in looting Undermountain. His answers didn't active the zone of truth he was standing in either, but considering the earlier failures of divination to discover the truth, Piergeiron didn't put much stock in that.
"Interesting," Piergeiron said. "Unfortunately, you're also lying. My fellow lords may have tiptoed around the point, but we all know –"
"Yes. You do," interrupted Nicos. "But what are you going to do about it?"
"Surely you understand that we are obligated to consider the welfare of this city –"
"As well you should. A leader should do no less, but knowing the answer to that question would not enable you to protect Waterdeep any better. I assure you, I do not mean to harm your domain. Help me finish my business and I will be gone."
"Business?" Piergeiron's eyes narrowed with suspicion.
"Laeral and Khelben. Where are they?"
The lords were taken aback at so blunt a demand, though most retained a measure of composure, aided by their enchanted masks.
"You may have some time to consider your options," Nicos said, as if he was being generous.

_______________________________________________________________________________

It was only the second day of the march, and Aravilar was already in awe of Sanguinius. Not that he hadn't been previously, of course, but while knowing someone had toppled Narbondel was frightening, there was something infinitely more terrifying about seeing them in combat up close. Without their winged giant, he doubted they'd have made it half as far as they had, but despite his admitted respect for Sanguinius, Aravilar was still perplexed by a few things.

The angel stood over a gutted kua-toa, sword clenched in a white-knuckled fist. This was not the first time the aquatic fiends had attacked the ex-slaves, and each time, Sanguinius slew those that approached him with no apparent effort. Yet each time, he also failed to fight those that didn't attack him. Sanguinius was an invincible whirlwind of destruction among the kua-toa that obstructed his path, but the rest of the column apparently had to fend for themselves. It wasn't that Sanguinius ignored the other kua-toa, as such. On the contrary, he would stop and watch the others fighting with an imperceptibly distant expression.

Aravilar grunted, thrusting a short drow spear into a drooling kua-toa. The monster gurgled in pain and sought to snatch the spear's haft, but Aravilar had extracted it before the kua-toa came around. Another slave leapt forth, hacking at the kua-toa with a curved sword, and it went down. Aravilar had no time to thank him, as he was too busy protecting himself from the next enemy. He spun the spear in his hands, taking a few paces back to put some distance between him and the second kua-toa. When the kua-toa was distracted, driving his spear into the human with the curved blade, Aravilar was able to step forth and put it down with a quick jab towards its neck. Panting, he saw that the battle was over. This had been a small raid, but another three slaves were dead.

Aravilar approached Sanguinius, making no attempt to conceal his anger. It seemed he was the only slave who could talk to the giant, for whatever reason, and Sanguinius had the elf teaching him about Faerun.
"How can you just keep standing there?!" Aravilar said, fury mitigated only by the clear strength of the primarch.
"You could have killed all those monsters! But you keep watching, doing nothing! Three more are dead this time, and why? What possible excuse could you have?"
Sanguinius released his grip on his sword, sending it crashing to the ground, and Aravilar suddenly noticed that the giant was breathing hard.
"Two reasons," he said slowly, unclenching his teeth.
"First of all, I am not a nanny. My purpose is not to shield them, and you, from every misfortune you may encounter. I said the journey would be hard, and I did not lie. You will stand on your own two feet or you will die. I will not carry you."
"But that's selfish!" Aravilar objected. "Where does it stop? Will you not help anyone?"
"Helping?" Sanguinius asked. "It would hurt them far more if I was their shield. I have seen this time and time again. Men want saviours. More than anything, they want a perfect leader who will vanquish evil and save them from all personal responsibility. I am not that leader."
A beat passed; then, Sanguinius continued.
"Perhaps I was once. There was a time when I would have charged in and saved them all. Every action has consequences, though. That path led to the Great Betrayal. Entire planetary populations, billions upon billions of people, swore loyalty to the lords of Chaos. Why do you think that was?"
Aravilar wilted under Sanguinius' gaze. "I… I don't know what you're talking about, but… there are always people willing to follow evil, aren't there?"
"No. That wasn't it. You can't blame their natures, say 'but those people, they were evil, we're not like that'. All they did was follow their leaders. Horus, Lorgar, Fulgrim, Alpharius… even us, the supposed loyalists. We slew their enemies, made them part of our Imperium, and banished their fears. They didn't fight for their freedom. We did. And when we were corrupted, they followed us, because we had taught them no better."
Sanguinius was getting angry again.
"That was our – and my – failure. We were the primarchs, the sons of the Emperor, born of his flesh to conquer the galaxy in his name. Don't you see? We were supposed to be better than them! Perfect lords for a perfect Imperium! By the end, we believed it too, and we didn't ask people to question. It was meant to be a quest for truth, you see. We brought the Imperial Truth to the myriad peoples of the galaxy, so that they could be enlightened and become part of a greater humanity. But a greater humanity must be made of greater humans, and somewhere that was forgotten, and the Crusade became about us and our ambitions. We competed with each other. Russ and the Lion, Rogal and Perturabo, Roboute and Alpharius… even I and Angron. Truth, uplifting the humans we saved, none of that mattered any more. We bred mindless sheep to follow us, and like sheep, they did. Billions marched into damnation because we'd taught them we were gods, that it was better to obey us than to question us."
Sanguinius looked Aravilar straight in the eye.
"That is why they must learn to stand for themselves. You wanted me to help them? I will. I will be their saviour, and I will teach them to rise above themselves."
"… and the second reason?" Aravilar whispered.
"I might lose myself again. None of you would survive."
With that, Sanguinius tucked his wings in close and disappeared into the dark passages of the Underdark.

_______________________________________________________________________________

Nicos is silent. His body sits in a cell underneath Waterdeep, but his thoughts are far off. He meditates on what he has learned. He stretches out with delicate tendrils of psychic force, looking at this Weave. It is different, he can tell now. He realises now he had been blinded to its nature by its emptiness. He had been so fixated on the disappearance of Chaos that he had failed to see what else had changed. It has been such a long time since he had tasted the Warp free of the oily taint of Chaos that he could barely recognise it.

He stretches further, parting its strands as gently as he knows how. There are no emotions, no souls, no presences hiding within… but wait, perhaps there is. From a great distance he hears a voice, and knows it is that of this realm's mistress. The goddess of magic. He expects her to plead, as did Halaster, but she does not. Nicos' presence reaches hers, and for a moment their minds mesh.

Then they separate, and Nicos knows. She is the Weave and she rules it, and would go to any length to protect it. That is why she has reached out to him. He is, for her, the lesser evil. Who? Who is the greater threat? Who has made all of this happen? he calls, but the moment is gone. He reaches out again, flailing his psychic might, but he cannot find her again. There is something else interfering. He narrows his mind and seeks to find the source.

There is a sudden flash, and Nicos' eyes snap open. A robed figure has collapsed in front of him.
"Are-are you all right?" Khalia asks, the last sparks of energy from her spell dissipating. Nicos does not answer immediately. He is irritated at having his concentration broken by something so unimportant as an assassin. He kneels and pulls back the assassin's hood, revealing a shaved and tattooed head.
"A friend of your master's?" he asks.
"What – no!" Khalia replies emphatically. "Druxus Rhym has no need to kill you. This must be some other zulkir's agent!"
"And yet he managed to infiltrate these dungeons," Nicos continues. "He must have had help, must he not?"
"You mean a lord of Waterdeep?" Khalia says, ticking down the possibilities. "Certainly getting a Thayan assassin into the lords' dungeons would require inside help. Some alliance, then, crossing the continent?"
And centred on me.
Nicos leaves the corpse and walks to the cell door.
"Guard," he says with authority. "Get me the Open Lord."
The guard gapes and moves to protest, but Nicos simply points at the dead assassin.
"O-of course," he stammers, "right away," and rushes off.
"So," Nicos resumes, turning back to Khalia. "I think we can safely say the Watch isn't in on this. He was invisible, presumably?"
The Red Wizard nods her assent. "That's odd," she says, "because these cells ought to have antimagic fields cast on them. I should never have been able to cast the spell that killed him either. You'd need considerable influence to get the field taken down."
"A lord."
"A lord," Khalia confirms.
The clatter of footsteps signified the return of the guard.
"He is fast, isn't he?" Nicos murmurs.
Piergeiron arrived with the guard, took in the situation at a glance, and said something most unpaladinlike.
"Are you done considering?" Nicos asks.
"Damn it, I never thought they'd be this stupid…" Piergeiron grimaces. "All right, we've been compromised. Get both of them out of here, we'll have to keep them somewhere else."
"It's too late. You know this," Nicos states flatly. "There is at least one traitor among the lords. There is nowhere you can put me. I shall ask you again, where can I find Laeral and Khelben?"
"You will not make demands of me," the Paladinson retorts, but is cut off before he can proceed further.
"You can't guarantee my safety or that of the wizard. We have committed no crime, and you know full well it is only a matter of time before this escalates again. Think of the city, Open Lord."
Piergeiron says nothing, and Nicos presses on.
"You do not understand me, and men fear what they do not understand. But I had heard paladins were immune to fear. Will you condemn a man who has done you no wrong, out of fear, or will you have faith that I have not lied to you?"
Nicos tenses. This may not be enough, but he has better. He wishes to hurry, though.
"…they're both gone. The Blackstaff Tower is empty and no one's seen them for days. That's not unusual, but it's not like Arunsun to keep his nose out of a crisis. I'm sorry."
The door clicks open and Nicos exits.
"Take heart, Open Lord. I will be gone and Waterdeep will be safe. You have done right."
"I can't guarantee you'll have long before the others discover you're gone. Get out of the city as quickly as you can."
Nicos thanks Piergeiron as he runs. He's glad he didn't have to force them.