The Light Within
Twin shadows appeared from over the horizon, within sight of the 1st guardhouse of Waterdeep, the first checkpoint incoming travelers would come to. Captain Ward Aseph squinted from the second floor window of the battlement, before descending down the stone staircase to the first floor. Besides him, there were ten other soldiers at the checkpoint, but seven of those were called back inside the city core, as a safeguard against the rumored mobilizing Drow. Just rumors, in his humbled opinion. The deaths of nobles throughout the city were strange, no doubt about that, but the idea of dark elves above the surface was laughable. Not with Durnan and the Undermountain sitting on top of them.
Aseph tutted to himself as he stepped outside of the tower to meet the strangers. A month ago, at least two of his guard would have been at the gate before he could so much as his shift his paperwork aside. Nowadays, it was a good day if he could trust twice that number to be within shouting distance. The recent 'excitement' in the city core had meant that many of the soldiers on-duty had been recalled back into Waterdeep, leaving him with many of the half-wits and rookies from their reserves. Useless baggage.
He wiped a gauntleted hand gingerly across his brow, then straightened his shoulders, as he stood behind the steel gate that blocked entrance into the city. The figures which had seemed little more than shadows from the second floor sharply came into view beneath the torchlight.
Two men stood before him, the blockade blocking direct contact between them and the captain. One, a man, stood about 6'2'', a weather-stained cloak covered his head, shielding him from elements, and his features from the outside. The most unusual thing that leapt to Aseph's mind was the lack of any kind of weapon. No shield, nor sheath, and judging from his relaxed posture, no heavy armor either. The other man (No, Aseph corrected, not yet, not with that peach fuzz) was similarly dressed, with one exception: a small, curved blade, attached to a five-inch piece of wood hung at his belt. It reminded him of a farmer's sickle, but it was far too small...
"Show your faces, please." said Aseph in a clipped tone. He wasn't the type of man subject to paranoia, but the taxpayers were nervous, and Aseph had to bow to them.
Luckily, the man complied without question, and the boy as well, after a moment's hesitation. The man's face was smooth, unmarked by any bruises or scars, and his skin was a tanned, leathery brown attained by too much time in the sun. His round head was shaved, and gleamed in the dim light. His eyes followed the pattern, a deep brown that seemed to sparkle like water in a deep well. Only the slight shade of white in the man's eyebrows gave any indication of age. The boy was similarly brown-skinned, but his head was covered with unruly black hair, which no comb would tame. In stark contrast to the man, the boy's left cheek bore a large scar, which looked like a quarter moon. Aseph tore his eyes from the boy's cheek and he rummaged through a mess of papers on a nearby stack before finding the registrar and a battered quill.
"Names?"
"Trey Nefzen," said the man quietly, his eyes gazing towards Waterdeep proper behind the captain.
"Alain Johns," said the boy, and Aseph scribbled both names on the sheet, then nodded.
"More a formality than anything, but has to be done," Aseph said with a touch of sheepishness. Something about them made him feel uncomfortably self-conscious. He undid the lock on the gate and pushed the door open for them.
"Enjoy your stay in Waterdeep, m'lords." Not that there's much to enjoy, he thought to himself. The two men stepped over the threshold and continued down the road towards the City Core. The bald monk said nothing to the captain, his eyes fixed on his destination, but the boy nodded respectfully to the Captain as he passed. He returned the nod, and any doubts the captain had about them seemed to be dispelled with that acknowledgement. Besides that, they were clearly strong, to be traveling with no weapons in the open countryside. He watched the two walk down the paved road out of sight, before heading back upstairs to his post.
"Why does everyone look so uptight?" Alain muttered, as the two walked down one of the main roads of Waterdeep. The roads had telltale grooves indented in the middle of the path, indicating that the path was major highway for merchant carriages. It looked as if the business quadrant of Waterdeep had seen better days.
Trey could almost see the multitude of stands along the roadside set up, complete with merchants hawking their wares. Darker days had fallen upon the city, though, and now there were very few stands to look at, and nearly all sold weapons. There were few customers, and they all seemed to be doing business without making any eye contact, with frequent looks over their shoulder.
"Why don't we find out?" Trey said, approaching one of the merchants. "Excuse me, sir?"
"What, what d'you want?" the merchant demanded, his eyes flicking nervously from Trey to Alain. It was obvious that he wanted to be anywhere else. Trey ignored his discomfort, plunging on.
"Where are all of the merchants? I get the feeling that this must be quite the spot for a marketplace, and it's hardly dark yet."
The merchant uttered a short dry laugh. "Hah! You must be a tourist, only this ain't no time for tourism! Just about everything has been given to the militia in the city's defense. Most people can't even stay open nowadays!" he proclaimed. Alain thought he detected a note of pride in the merchant's voice at this last statement.
"Well, we are strangers, you're correct there. But what is the city defending against? Unless I'm mistaken, it has been ages since Waterdeep has been involved in a war."
"It's not the outside we need to be worried about," said the merchant shrewdly, "it's the inside, if you get my meaning."
"I don't believe I do."
"Gods, man!" the merchant cried, exasperated. A few passerby turned to shoot him a glare, looking scandalized, and the merchant quickly lowered his voice. "Waterdeep is sitting on top of the Undermountain, which is sitting on top of Underdark. My mate Gailef tells me you wouldn't want to go down that deep for any amount of money. Huge monsters, barbaric Drow…" the merchant shook his head firmly. "Nasty business."
"So… somehow, the creatures of the Underdark are coming up to the surface? How is that possible?"
"Don't ask me, I don't know anything," the merchant said irritably. "Now if you're not buying something, then clear off!"
"The Underdark… do you know anything about that?" Alain asked, as the two walked on, leaving the business district behind them.
"Nothing beyond what you would hear in a tavern." Trey replied. "The Drow, darker cousins of the Elf, live there, along with several other creatures. They blame the Elves for pushing them underground, but if they wished to get back at them, then there are better places than Waterdeep to strike. It doesn't make sense."
"The merchant said that the militiais fighting against the attacking Drow. Perhaps we should see if we can offer any kind of assistance," suggested Alain.
"The lords of Waterdeep are more than capable of fending off this threat. We would better off trying to find our quarry as soon as possible, before he has time to escape."
"I guess so," mumbled Alain. The "quarry" Trey spoke of was Maric, a thief that the pair had been tracking for weeks. He had taken something of worth from their monastery, but beyond that, Alain didn't know much more. He only knew that he had gotten weary of following vague descriptions and cold leads. What's to say that this Maric guy hasn't been killed by a Drow or something? We would be better off trying to help here. Still, there could be no refusing the orders of his elders. No matter how much it rankled him.
"Don't worry," Trey added, sensing the younger boy's annoyance. "As soon as we find some evidence of Maric's latest movement, we'll turn our attention to helping Waterdeep, if we can. Is that sufficient?"
"I suppose so," Alain conceded.
"Good. Then the next thing is to find an inn, before it gets too dark. If things are as bad as that merchant says, I wouldn't want to be out on these streets at night."