Chapter 35...in which the plot thickens once again. Phaedra learns her next task for the Watch is a not too appealing prospect...oh and Sand makes another appearance. He has a secret, I wonder what it is? Also Phaedra gets a rather useful item of clothing. I prefer my magical items to be few and far between, here is one of them. Another sort of set-up/characterisation chapter I'm afraid, but the next one is, I promise, you quite an awesome spectacle.
Thanks to Gaspode for adding me to alert as well as all the helpful feedback, also thanks to bublinka likewise.
It was soon that Phaedra found herself once again before both Marshal Cormick and Captain Brelaina in the Headquarters of the City Watch. Clear morning light filtered through the high, glass windows of Brelaina's office, bathing in a radiant stream the desk, and the papers upon it, including a dispatch she recognised as one from the fortress of Old Owl Well and Commander Callum, the summary of her activities there perhaps? Brelaina was as stoic and composed as ever, sitting ramrod straight in her chair, but Phaedra could tell, blushing, from the look of awe and admiration directed her way by Marshal Cormick that they were both obviously aware of what had occurred in Old Owl Well already.
"Lieutenant, excellent" Brelaina leant forward business-like as soon as Phaedra was composed before the desk but a small smile touched her lips as she continued "Commander Callum's report arrived just yesterday, and I was hoping you would be here soon, so I could offer my thanks in person"
"To be honest…I'd assumed Issani was dead and this operation was a waste of our time" Cormick added "What you did, pulling him, alive, from the lair of an orc king and a necromancer, killing both in the process and probably single-handedly ensuring the success of our operations in Old Owl Well…"
"We are impressed, very impressed" Brelaina nodded, cutting crisply across Cormick's enthusiasm "And I do not believe we are the only ones, the Nine are taking an interest, and if my sources are to be believed, Lord Nasher himself received a copy of Callum's dispatch almost as soon as it arrived. It would appear your fortunes are on the way up, Lieutenant"
"My thanks Captain" Was all Phaedra could really say, astounded by the thought of Lord Nasher reading of her name, and her exploits, she could only trust that Callum had left Casavir's name well and truly off his writings…
"But I was…concerned to hear of a necromancer's involvement" Brelaina's eyes quickly hardened like dark agate "Issani's accounts suggest he matched your own description of your previous adversaries"
"He did" Phaedra could not help but shudder as though the ghost of that white-robed phantom reached across the veil of death to touch her momentarily "And his activities…were of a similar intent as well" She drew from her pack the folded-up piece parchment that they had recovered from the necromancer's dark lair, the letter, hinting at his plans, and at the involvement of the Master of the Fifth Tower as well. Perhaps this was the proof that the Cloaktower would require to more fully engage with the threat represented by the necromancers. She passed it wordlessly to Captain Brelaina who scanned it briefly, her countenance rapidly darkening as she read the baleful message it gave. Cormick too, standing at her shoulder, seemed to stiffen in response to the cold malevolence written into every word.
"This…is deeply troubling" Brelaina said at last, laying down the paper once again, her gaze bleak "And more so because, aside from your reports Lieutenant, not a whisper of this plot's existence has reached Neverwinter. How can they even hope to be so ambitious, this, they speak of attacking Old Owl Well, and yet conceal themselves so completely? Lieutenant…" Her dark eyes bored urgently into Phaedra as she raised her eyes "You are our only source on this, any information, anything I can tell the Council would be of great help. Who are these men? Whom do they serve? And…this Master of the Fifth Tower…?"
"I can't tell you very much" Phaedra said, helplessly, tugging at her hair thoughtfully "And what I can…I don't know what is even true and false…" She gave her best summary of her one encounter with the Master of the Fifth Tower, the Sending glimpsed through the shadows of Highcliff Castle, what he and his necromancer pawn had conversed of, the plans to attack Fort Locke… "But even he didn't seem to be the ultimate authority, at least not according to the priest himself" Phaedra remembered, it was somewhat difficult to recall these things. The darkness of the Castle, and of the crypt seemed to gather around her, chilling her suddenly "He mentioned an entity…the King of Shadows, he seemed to treat it as a God…"
"The…King of Shadows?" Cormick leaned forward with a dark scowl, as though he wished to seize all these mysteries and beat them into a form he could understand "I do not know a God that goes by that name…"
"Nor do I" Phaedra sighed "But these necromancers, they have some power from somewhere, and they do possess kinship with the shadows "
"Are you sure…the King of Shadows?" Brelaina laid a hand on the desk, growing agitated "Those exact words? That exact name?"
"Yes, I'm certain of it" Phaedra nodded, shocked that Brelaina seemed to know it. Certainly she did, and it caused her no small amount of confusion.
"It's impossible" Brelaina breathed, glancing out into the morning air through her window, the city bright and luminous in the dawn sparkled, giving no answers. "It can't be"
"Captain, what do you mean?" The Marshal grasped at the desk harshly, impatiently "Captain, do you know this creature?"
"Yes…" Brelaina glanced back at Cormick, then to Phaedra "Yes, and he's dead…"
"Dead?" Phaedra stepped forward. Anything the Captain knew, she needed to know, she had to, and she hadn't missed the 'he' either.
"He was a warlock" Brelaina answered, tapping the desk with her fingers "We, Neverwinter, fought him, almost seventeen years ago"
"What?" Phaedra gasped, as Cormick's jaw dropped with shock. This was going beyond coincidence, far beyond it…"Not…the…warlock who was killed in West Harbour?"
"The same" Brelaina nodded gravely "A terrible war, and all the more so because we know so little of what we fought. Even now our chroniclers struggle to agree exactly what occurred then. Not a single of our soldiers sent to West Harbour ever returned alive, but the warlock was undoubtedly slain there. To this day his true purpose, his nature, the extent of his forces…all remain a mystery. If any in the city knew then, they have kept silent. But once the dust had settled after the conflict, one name seemed to surface above all…that name, the King of Shadows"
"How does this even help us?" Cormick snapped, as Phaedra's mind reeled from this new information. Everything, everything was connected. What bound the shards she bore to that conflict that had scarred the earth in West Harbour, to the necromancers, to the Astral creatures that had pursued her for so long? A web…it was like a web, slowly closing around her… "I was there, in the village, six years old. We fled that day and when we came back he was gone, all of it was gone…"
"The Greycloaks combed that swamp for days, Marshal, they even enlisted locals" Brelaina said, rubbing her forehead thoughtfully "I've read the reports myself, they discovered nothing: no demons, no undead…no trace of the warlock himself. It was concluded that he must have been slain by unnatural magical means…"
"No evidence was ever uncovered?" Phaedra's breaths were coming quick and fast "No evidence that he was actually killed?" No evidence except the shards at her belt. Brelaina had said they'd enlisted local help…Daeghun? Had he recovered the shards on that hunt…and, what? Hidden them from the Greycloaks? Why?
"In death he was as elusive as in life" Brelaina answered "And yet, this letter, it seems these necromancers you speak of believe he has returned…" She looked up, contemplating something deeply unpleasant "Is it truly possible that he survived? That he has waited these sixteen years…? And now returns to continue his scheme? How? Why?"
"Maybe he is nothing but a figurehead" Cormick considered darkly "A way of manipulating these necromancers, maybe a ploy by this 'Master of the Fifth Tower'?"
"And yet you say they channel power…" Brelaina shook her head
"Are they former associates of the warlock?" Cormick questioned, glancing to Phaedra. "Hoping to revive him perhaps?"
"The King of Shadows worked alone" Brelaina answered "His servants were undead, or demons, nothing more…at least as far as the records say"
"Not even a warlock could disperse power to associates" Phaedra racked her mind of all Tarmas had told her of the formidable magic of warlocks, each time she had inquired after the circumstances of the war that had destroyed West Harbour. "Only Gods can do such a thing…"
"And that brings us back to where we began…no God, as far as we know has claimed that title" Brelaina shook her head "And I can't believe that there is no connection with the warlock. There was always something amiss there, but we lacked the manpower sixteen years ago to truly settle things once and for all…" She shook her head "By Tyr, this is frustrating. Even now they may be gathering and we flail in the dark, looking for answers…" She took up the piece of parchment, the one piece of evidence that collaborated all that Phaedra had said, and scanned it quickly "I shall hand this to the Nine, and perhaps the Cloaktower as well. With so little information on hand, our options are limited though. At least you put a stop to their schemes in Old Owl Well…" She frowned slightly, glancing again at the note "And this paladin, this one he calls the Katalmach, could he help us perhaps?"
"Unlikely" Phaedra answered hastily "I made contact with him there, he helped us find Logram's lair, but he knew as little as we did about the necromancer." There…no lie, simply evasion…let Brelaina and Cormick take from it what they would.
"I trust that this means enough to the Nine that Phaedra will be allowed into Blacklake at last" Cormick glanced at Brelaina, as though suspecting the opposite was true.
"Unfortunately not…" Brelaina answered, with that same careful curtness of tone, and Phaedra felt the words crush down around her, she'd been so sure that now, at least, she would be allowed to carry on her journey, discover at last the information she had searched for so long, but now, as always, something more seemed to get in her way. "The Nine are still unyielding on the matter, still proving uncooperative despite all you have done" A slight strain in her tone and in her perfectly trained, impassive features was the only sign of her disapproval of the Nine, ostensibly her superiors, though that barely perceptible tension revealed to Phaedra that she had personally taken her Lieutenant's cause as far… "They refuse to discuss entry into the District unless the matter relates to the security of Neverwinter, and fail to see why it is so urgent that you bypass their blockade…"
"Captain, you aren't telling me…!" Cormick burst out "That's outrageous. Phaedra's done…"
"Enough Marshal" Brelaina cautioned, Phaedra sat back exhaustedly. She did not need Cormick to defend her and she could see that angry words could get her no further here. The decision remained in the hands of the Nine, not Captain Brelaina "The Nine are unmoving, as of yet, despite Callum's praise and my efforts, but I am confident that a little more work within Neverwinter will help to sway them …" She leant forward, the morning light falling upon her sharp features, as she seemed to grow only graver "With that in mind, I have recently become aware of a matter which requires your special gifts, Lieutenant. I realise you have done much to aid our cause here in the Docks, and in Old Owl Well, but you must understand that I only ask you this from the direst need…It is Luskan…"
"Luskan?" Phaedra gasped, again the name of Neverwinter's dark reflection, City of Sails, came to the fore here. Luskan, the haven of piracy, hub of crime, with tendrils of its dark influence spreading across the Sword Coast and ruled by the Hostower. Tarmas had taught her something of that dark place, its four great spires rising above the city beneath like a dark nightmare…a whole city subjugated by the cruellest and most twisted branches of magic that were harnessed by the ambitious, pitiless minds within.
"When the Ambassador disappeared we suspected Luskan's hand in it" Brelaina nodded "We have had our disagreements with the city before…"
"A war actually" Cormick's scowl was like a thundercloud "There is no need to mince words when it comes to their kind"
"Yes, and it seems they have forgotten who won that war. Whatever the case, you seem to have found no evidence linking them to Issani or your Shadow Priests but now they are preparing to act against us within the borders of our own city, this we cannot allow" Brelaina continued sternly "I recently received word from our covert operatives in Luskan that an agent of the Hostower, accompanied by an elite Luskan bodyguard, left Luskan some days ago. His destination was this city, and the Docks you have guarded so fearsomely Lieutenant. The ship he is aboard, the Sea Ghost it is called, is scheduled to arrive here at midnight tonight"
"Clearly the Luskan dog wanted to get by without being noticed" Cormick snarled
"Luskan must know that this subterfuge shall not be tolerated" Brelaina answered "You will be there to meet this agent, Lieutenant, and you will eliminate him"
"You don't want him arrested?" Phaedra asked, shocked.
"No" Brelaina sighed, tapping her desk "Be clear that we face a formidable foe here, with a dangerous position all too close to Lord Nasher. I speak of the Luskan Ambassador to the Court, Torio Claven"
"A politician through and through" Cormick said, disgustedly "She'd have this agent out of our hands and loose on the streets in days on some damned technicality"
"Torio Claven is not a woman to be taken lightly, Lieutenant" Brelaina continued "She was trained in the Hostower, trained in the arts of magic, politics and assassination, and she is utterly ruthless in the application of all her resources against any who oppose her. Nothing can be proven, but I suspect her hand in this agent's arrival, it reeks of her plots…and she certainly has a vested interest in getting him through our defences. We must not allow a whisper of our, or your, involvement to reach her, the agent must die, quickly and silently"
"Once he's dead, Torio is out of options" Cormick added with satisfaction "And she can't accuse the Watch, not without implicating herself."
"It will be a message she and her masters cannot ignore" Brelaina said "But, it hinges on you, Lieutenant. This agent will be a Hostower mage of the highest order…"
"I understand Captain" Phaedra nodded "And I will face him" Confidence she had to be able to muster when the time came, but right now she had no choice. She had to do this, to protect this city she had come to respect, to which she had this great responsibility. And she had to continue what she had begun, there was no turning back. Despite this inner resolution, turmoil still stormed within as she considered how exactly she could defeat a trained master of the Hostower. Her mind flitted through all that Tarmas had taught her of the Hostower and its magics, what little was known anyway. Curses, bindings, spells to torture, weaken, to kill slowly and with great pain. She knew…she knew what she would be up against, and this agent would have no qualms about unleashing every tool at his disposal to kill her. She would have to be twice as resourceful, twice as fast, and twice as ruthless as she had ever been to beat him, how? Where could she find the resources to face a master of the Craft, and of a discipline as cruel and twisted as that of the Hostower? She knew, deep in her heart, that alone, undisciplined, as she was, she could not beat him, but where to find help, and in such a short space of time? Then, suddenly, she remembered…
oooo0000oooo
Later that morning, Phaedra, with Casavir and Elanee in tow, made her way to the establishment of the hedge-wizard Sand, her only contact in the city who she could be sure had the knowledge she would require against a Hostower wizard. It was a clean, well-kept place by the sea, larger than the slums which comprised most of the Docks, with a small garden out the back in which were growing a number of plants which Phaedra recognised as able to yield reagents essential to the production of potions and some complex spells such as summonings. The building was two-storied, no doubt comprising Sand's habitation as well as his home, and there seemed to be ample space for storage and experimentation as well. Wizards who peddled their craft as Sand did had to be ready for any kind of order, from love potions, to the enchantment of weaponry or armour.
Phaedra knocked gently on the door, which swung open almost as though of its own accord, sounding a small bell above the doorway, and thereby alerting Sand, no doubt, to their presence. She stepped inside quickly; it was a small room, panelled across with wood, and mainly taken up by the counter which stood across from the door, a large, imposing creation carved with symbols of Mystra and other deities of magic. She blinked, momentarily seeing the charms which suffused every grain of wood, charms which guaranteed any potential thief foolish enough to attempt to steal from Sand a jolt of magical energy, the result of which was really very painful. She was glad Neeshka wasn't faced with the temptation of the variety of magical wares on display across shelves in the room, amulets and charms of silver and gold in glass caskets, potions brewed and distilled for common use set up in neat rows of bottles, a kaleidoscopic panoply of artefacts all shimmering with the touch of crafting magic. The tiefling had remained back at the Flagon alongside Khelgar, though whether Neeshka ever did actually stay at the inn was a mystery. Phaedra had a suspicion that, when left alone, she found ways to continue her lucrative and shady business in the Docks. Whatever the case was, Khelgar was unlikely to be any help, the celebrations the night before had left him predictably of a delicate constitution this morning, and he was probably engaging in his favourite cure right now, which was more ale and in larger quantities than before. How he managed to find a spare minute for anything was beyond Phaedra.
"Welcome" Sand suddenly appeared behind his counter, the elf seemed little changed since she had seen him last, he wore his purple robes marked with arcane sigils, his dark hair sleek and impeccable, even his slightly oily smile and the nasal tone to his voice. "Ah…Miss Phaedra Blake" His smile widened as he saw them, and his blue eyes glinted with welcoming warmth "Or should I say Lieutenant Blake? You have risen in the world since our last encounter"
"Well met Sand" Phaedra smiled in return
"So you've finally seen fit to consult my expertise" he tutted, but there was no genuine accusation in his voice, which was rich with welcoming pleasure "Still, it would appear you were doing alright thus far without me. I must say I've noticed a definite improvement in the atmosphere of this District, which according to your legions of devoted admirers is down to your efforts. I know quality when I see it, Miss Phaedra, and my expectations of you were high indeed, and it would seem quite justified."
"Thank you" Phaedra flushed briefly "But I've had…"
"No false modesty my dear" Sand chuckled lightly "But it is a right scandal that they haven't let you into the Blacklake yet. Mind you, that makes two murders now. No one will miss Lord Dalren I assure you but Gentry; I had my dealings with him…" Phaedra gaped at him, was everyone aware just how well her quest to get into Blacklake was going? Not exactly an ideal situation, if there were indeed hostile forces present in Neverwinter. "But enough of such dire talk" Sand rubbed his pale hands together "What can I do for you?"
"I have a problem" Phaedra began, and quickly explained what the Captain had told her, and what she was expected to do. Sand's features grew by degree more and more grave as she did so. Was that a hint of anger, even hatred, in his brow, in his light blue eyes? At last, as she finished, he turned away from her to look into the depths of his storehouses, something in his posture told her he was considering this, very deeply. She began to wonder if she had been right to bring this here, though why, she had no idea why that could be "So, any advice you have, and anything to protect against magic I need it all and I'm prepared to pay" she finished. Her salary, increased as she had become a Lieutenant, had remained almost untouched in her pouch, and a good thing too. She'd need it, no doubt.
"You were very wise to seek advice" Sand said, at last, his voice suddenly empty of the dry wit and sarcasm which had always characterised it before "And you have come to the right place I assure you. I have some…experience dealing with Hostower magics" He turned, his pale features, lit only dimly by sunlight streaming through the small windows of the place, were expressionless, though something haunting lurked just beyond his gaze "Adepts of that accursed place are more assassins than mages. Their powers are deadly, refined to a single purpose with ruthless precision, that purpose, Miss Blake, will be your death, and as painful as they can make it, I assure you. It is a unique discipline, Hostower magic, one they guard fiercely, but here and here alone, in this city, I can tell you this knowledge you require"
"How is that, wizard?" Casavir asked, his voice, as ever, was impassive, but there was a force behind it that made Sand look to him, gaze honed to a needle point "How, if this discipline is so guarded, do you know enough to aid her?"
"That need not concern you now paladin" Sand hissed, though he was slight and slender compared to Casavir, something about him coiled dangerously, as though he contained a weight of potential energy that he was on the verge of unleashing "But I will aid her, that is enough for now." He leaned forward "We have not much time, Miss Phaedra, so what I can teach now will only serve you so far. That will not be enough, but here I have something that might be. Wait one moment…" He vanished, without a sound, into the darkness at the back of the shop
"I do not think we should trust him" Casavir took that moment to say "There is something he's hiding…what you have told him touches him deeper than he has let on"
"He seems prepared to help us" Phaedra answered "It's certainly more complicated than that" And it was, she sensed that Sand meant no harm, not toward them, that hatred, and raw emotion, which had appeared momentarily in him, was directed against Luskan and the Hostower, she saw that. That made him an ally, no matter what his motivation was
"Here…" Sand suddenly appeared once again, emerging from the rooms beyond the counter, where Phaedra glimpsed the trappings of a wizard's workshop. He held an item in his hands, it seemed like a piece of folded cloth "I think it is time you finally took on the mantle of our craft" He unfurled the cloth dramatically, revealing something Phaedra would never have suspected, a robe, a mage's robe. It was a soft grey colour, a simpler cut than one might have expected, no extra adornments or highly fashionable flourishes that some mages, like Tarmas, favoured. Instead it was marked for utility, coming down to the length of about the knee, for easy movement, but still it was the most beautiful, the most eminently feminine, dress Phaedra had ever seen. It seemed to be woven in silk, a shining silk, so soft it seemed almost dream-like. Woven into the design with such subtle complexity that they appeared simply a flowing organic pattern were a smattering of arcane runes, running over the hem, around the breast in which was set a single glassy stone was set, the runes curling and sweeping around it, and at the end of each sleeve. At each shoulder was a small metal plate to guard the neck, these were silver, but polished to such brightness that they appeared almost opalescent, and silken cloth unfurled beneath them. To complete the ensemble, a sash of light pink wove around the belt, curling around once, then in a shimmering stream, falling back down to the knee once it was tucked beneath itself. "Many mages, when preparing to duel with others of the calibre of a Luskan adept, will utilise the power of arcane robes such as this" Sand explained, running a finger over the robe's soft surface "It is a variant on a typical Battle Robe, and I've woven a variety of protective charms into the fabric, these will defend you somewhat against peripheral magical damage, and may rob weaker spells of some of their potency. Here, have a look…" He handed it to her, and she took it, marvelling at the expert weave, and seeing, as it rippled in her hands the shimmer of those charms. They were a small protection, but still it was notoriously difficult to bind any magic into the substance of a fabric like this, taking many years study. Sand had done a great work here…
"You made this…?" She asked, glancing up at Sand. It was extraordinary, this work, this beauty…the fabric was as soft as a whisper, but as she tugged lightly, it felt as strong as woven metal.
"I did" the wizard nodded, with pride "When you have peddled your Craft as long as I have, Miss Phaedra, you learn some very useful tricks of the trade. It is no divine vestment, but it will aid you time and again, I assure you." Phaedra lifted the rippling gown to lay it against herself, a perfect fit. She felt a prickle of emotion, and a small glow of pride touch her for a moment. A mage's first robe was supposed to be something of a rite of passage. She had once dreamed of perhaps weaving their own, but never could she have created something so lovely as this. She only wished it could have been under less dire circumstances, but she couldn't wait to put this on nonetheless. "But…" Sand cautioned lightly and she looked up to him "Remember that you cannot rely too much on any tool, your wit and your own magic shall never disappoint you, as long as you feed them with knowledge. If you're ready…" He glanced up, his gaze travelling momentarily over Casavir and Elanee "And your friends are prepared to stay?"
"Yes" Casavir answered abruptly, folding his arms "We're both staying"
"Well then, let me teach you something of Hostower magic" Sand nodded, his blue eyes glimmered dangerously "Foiling Luskan plots is…a pleasure to me, and I assure you, I shall teach you more than enough to send this Adept squealing back to his masters"