Faerune woke up to the sweet smell of fish. He stretched out and yawned. Freedrick sat on a log with a small stick in his hand, slowly twisting it 'round and 'round. The flames lightly licked the fish on the end. Shadows behind Freedrick danced at the quivering light. He shook the dead cod and pulled it away from the fire. Mouth wide, he took a bite out of the fish's side. "Oh, good morning, Faerune! Trust me, it's morning. Living in a hole for most of ya life makes ya learn 'ow to keep track of da time." He pointed the dangling 'fish on a stick' at Faerune. "Hungry?"
"Not really, lets get moving. This place isn't my choice area to make camp. Once we get out of here, where will we surface?" Faerune asked.
Freedrick scratched his head with the pointed end of the stick. "Hrmm, I think it'd be Shadeweaver's Thicket, but I not so sure." He turned around and picked up a large bucket. In one swift motion, he doused the fire with the bucket of water.
Faerune wasn't paying much attention to Freedrick. He swore he could hear footsteps. He peered into the black fog and saw five people walking slowly toward his camp. One was in the front, holding a large yellow scimitar. Faerune spun back around and whispered, "Freedrick, you're a bard, right?"
"Yes I am, Mr. Faerune. Best bard in the land. Why? Feelin' a little glum? Want me to play a cheery song, huh?"
"Can you play the drums?"
"Best drummer in the land!" He reached into his backpack and pulled out a small set of snares. "Wanna here Taps?"
"No, get us out of here." Faerune looked back to see how close the party was. The yellow scimitar pointed toward his direction, while the other hand beckoned the rest of the group to follow. "Now!"
"Whatever ya say, Mr. Faerune." Freedrick pulled out a set of sticks and began to roll them on the white surface. A rush of adrenaline filled Freedrick's blood. "Tut, tadatut, tadatut-tut-tut, taladeludeludelud. That fast enough for ya, Mr. Faerune?"
Faerune felt the adrenaline as well. "Perfect, now go!"
Abraham looked in surprise as the once close figures were now a dragon's tail away. He kicked the dirt in disgust. "Damnation! You were right, Magus. That small halfling is a bard. I've never see anyone, rather, anything move that fast!"
Magus grinned. "I told you, boys. The halfling might be a drunkard most of the time, but when it comes down to sheer skill, he'll whip anyone into their place."
Galena saw that they had no chance to catch up to the runners in time, so she sat in the lotus position and meditated. "The tournament is coming soon, I must leave you all. I know that finding this Faerune is important, but it does not concern my matters. Being head disciple at the academy of the Flaming Fist is my top priority. If I happen to fail, which is highly doubtful, I will come looking for you." She stood up and bowed slightly at the party. "Farewell, noble adventurers." She walked over toward Tilkin. She placed her hand on his blond hair. "Take care of these old men, will you, Tilkin?"
Tilkin giggled with delight, "Silly Galena. I will miss you!" He waved pointlessly toward the water as Galena pranced off to his left.
"Come along now, son. They might be far away, but it seems that watching from afar is the best way to track them." Crassus placed his hand on Tilkin's shoulder and led him down the pathway.
Edwin appeared in the realm of Shadowhaven. All the merchants sneered at him and closed their shops. Being a Black Wizard was not a crime in Shadowhaven, as long as any of the killings did not happen on city grounds. But their reputation was know far and wide, making them prime targets for ridicule and assassinations. Deedra came in closely behind Edwin and whispered, "Why must the merchants b-b-b-be so unwelcoming? We have not broken any of their l-l-l-laws."
"Our reputation precedes us. We cannot do anything to make them not hate us, all we can do is live with it." Edwin walked off of the platform and asked the local soulbinder. "Excuse me, miss? Did you happen to see two gnomes walk by here anytime soon?"
The soulbinder was normally indifferent to all, but this time she sneered at them. "Your brethren killed a Scion. They are our allies. I will not speak to your kind."
Deedra stepped forward, standing face to face with the other woman. "Do n-n-n-not pass judgment on us, m-m-m-miss. We are only doing our m-m-m-mission."
"Was your mission including killing an innocent Scion? The people of the Nexus are a collective spirit. They know the turmoil of the world below and try and be equal with all, but one of your 'cultist' wizards destroyed him for no apparent reason!"
Deedra tried to refute her statement, but the soulbinder crossed her arms, signaling her intent to stop the conversation. Deedra growled and pulled back her fist, preparing to strike. Edwin stepped in front of her and grabbed her wrist. "Deedra, if you hit her, you'll only prove her right. We do not need her help. It is a know fact that the quickest way to the surface, which I will assume they will be heading for, is through the caves of Paludal." He turned toward the pathway and marched forward, with Deedra dragging behind him.
Galena has just crossed over the bridge when she saw the two black-robed wizards. One was young man, the other, a strongly built female. She backed away back onto the bridge. Damn, they must be after me for killing that wizard. Wait, if I stay on the bridge, the law states that commoners couldn't kill anyone on the grounds of Shadowhaven without permission of the local authority. Just as long as they don't back me to the other side of the bridge, I will be fine.
The wizards walked up to her. The man spoke with a young squeaky voice. "Excuse me, miss. There have been reports of two gnomes and a large human wandering through those caves. Did you happen to see any of them when you were end there?" The female was looked intently at Galena, as if waiting for something.
Galena cleared her throat. "No, sir," she said hesitantly, "I have not seen two gnomes or a large human wandering through those caves."
The woman's expression relaxed, and she quickly looked at the man. He deepened his voice and spoke again, this time more demanding. "Are you sure that you have not seen them?"
Galena slowly nodded her head.
The man pulled out a small wand and inched closer toward Galena. The woman removed her robe to reveal a full set of silver plate male covering her body. In her scabbard lay a large kukri, one end normal, the other sharp and jagged. Galena looked around but knew the law was on her side. "I don't know if you know this, but Shadowhaven law prohibits the use of weapons with the intent of killing on its grounds," she said confidently.
The women softly spoke with a scratchy voice, "We kn-n-n-now, but the city limits end right-t-t-t there." She point to the end of the bridge closest to them. Galena stood in fighting position and glared at the Black Wizards, but her tactics had no use. She jumped into the air and preformed a roundhouse, but she stopped in mid-motion. She struggled to move her muscles, but they were locked in place. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the man holding his arms out and chanting. Galena let out a bloodcurdling scream as she was ripped limb from limb.
Faerune was running at incredible speeds, almost floating to the naked eye. He could see the hobbit in front of him clanging on his snares and almost dancing to the beat. Suddenly, Freedrick skidded to a halt, creating long streaks of dirt in the ground. Faerune was unable to stop himself fast enough, and he plowed into the small hobbit.
Freedrick stumbled to his feet and rubbed his noggin, "Aye, ya idiyawt. Ya almost got me kilt!" He helped Faerune to his feet and walked toward a small opening in the wall. "This be da fastest way outta dis retched place! Whenever I be olone, I can just crawl threww dat hole meself." He sized Faerune up, scratching the whiskers on his chin. "I don't think ya be able to fit, Mr. Faerune. But not ya werry, I 'ave just the tink for ya!" He reached into his backpack and retrieved a small vile of blue liquid. "'Ave a drink! It'll make ya as small oar even smaller dan meself!"
Faerune reluctantly took the vile from Freedrick's hands and quaffed it. He coughed and convulsed for a moments, then stood still. His arms shot into his body all the way up to his elbows; his legs did the same up to his knees. Everything else about him stayed the same. He looked at his new body and frowned. "Freedrick, I look like a lollipop kid! Lets hurry this up!"
Freedrick laughed at Faerune's new appearance. "Arh, ya look like a deformed gnome. Ya wouldn't catch any f'male round ya, even if ya got 'er drunker than…well, me!" Freedrick kneel down and began to crawl through the hole.
Faerune followed his example. He coughed as Freedrick pushed dust into his face. "Watch where your flailing those feet, will you?"
Marekk paced in his office. A sudden snowstorm had hit the forest and caught the Wizards by surprise. The fierce winds were almost demonic in power, toppling the tents and makeshift cabins outside. All of the Wizards had to pile inside of the tower to keep warm. The stairs were inaccessible; shivering bodies used each step as their beds. Marekk was trapped inside of his office, unable to walk down the massive stairs. "Guards! Summon the rainmaker!"
A murmured replied seeped through the thick, wooden doors. The rainmaker walked into the room. He was an old man, with a long, white beard reaching down to his waist. He wore a forest green robe, torn and frayed from years in the harsh weather. His eyes were glazed white; his smile was rugged and tired out. He spoke in a raspy voice, "Hello, Marekk, Supreme Justice of the Black Wizards. By what reason have you summoned me here?"
"By what reason? Look outside, you old fool!" He turned around and jerked the drapes apart. The howling wind entered the room and chilled the air. Marekk's breath was visible in the cold air. "That is why I called you here! We cannot travel while this blizzard from hell swirls around us!" Marekk slammed his fist on the desk, shaking the papers and trinkets strewn about its surface. "Where did it come from?"
The rainmaker kept his placid appearance. "I have spent many days investigating this unnatural storm. The only conclusion I was able to muster was that this storm was not on Norrath before two nights ago."
Marekk looked at the rainmaker in disgust. "Of course it wasn't here before two nights ago! If it were, we would have known about it! Don't spew out information that we already know!"
The rainmaker remained calm, never hinting toward anger or cowardice. "Before you ridicule my work, you must know something about weather. It is not a spontaneous occurrence. The weather we see from time to time is the same storm we might have seen three weeks ago. The band of inclement weather is only changing, whether it is by size or by temperature. What I mean by the statement earlier is that this blizzard was not on Norrath's regular weather bands."
"What does that mean? Where did this devilry come from?" Marekk questioned. His mind was taxed with thousands of possibilities: maybe it came from Luclin, or a powerful shaman summoned it upon their heartland.
"I do not know for sure, but I believe that a system of this power can only come from the hand of the god of thunder and weather, Karana." The rainmaker stood firm, almost anticipating the ridicule and torture about to thrust upon him.
Marekk was stunned. Karana, god of thunder is persecuting us? he thought. Why hasn't the council of the Tribunal done anything about it? The rainmaker must be lying. But he hasn't steered us in the wrong direction ever before. A migraine consumed his head as thoughts bounced throughout it. He massaged his sinuses and squinted. "Rainmaker, you have not let us down before, and your word has been trusted before. If Karana truly is the cause of this snowstorm, then we must use all of our might to defeat him. Scribe!"
A lowly scribe entered the room. "Yes, sire?"
"I am going to dictate a bulletin to you. When I am done, give this to the crier."
"Yes, sire."
"People of Kithcor! A plague has consumed our land! It has driven us into hiding, stopped our progress of trials, and killed many of our ranks! Both you and I know that the perpetrator of these acts must face his crimes against the Tribunal! No matter how big, or how small the criminal may be, he must be captured and tried! Black Wizards of Law! We know who has caused this storm! This devilry! This menace! He plans to snuff out of existence in a fury of storms! He is Karana, god of storms! He has seen our great power and has grown jealous! He wants our power and plans to take it by any means necessary! We must stop him before he stops us! Judges! Bailiffs! Attorneys! Be ready for the fight for our existence!
