Chapter Two

"Look," said Nirra, pointing to the left, between two fairly tall houses. "Those must be our stairs."

"Probably so."

At Torri's inattentive reply, Nirra turned around, curious about what might have been distracting her friend.

It seemed that a gnome and a human were discussing a matter, rather heatedly. The human had drawn a pointy short-sword, which he was pointing at his much shorter interlocutor. The latter, pressed against a wall, was trying his best not to tremble and cower, not having where to back off anymore. He was old, gray-haired and fragile, with a very long and thick beard, a sign of respectable wisdom among his people.

"Please..." the gnome was just pleading. "I don't have that much money..." It was obvious that he was making a great effort to keep his voice steady and unfaltering in front of the danger.

"We've warned you, my 'friend'," the other one spat between clenched jaws. "It's your duty as a... citizen... to pay your taxes to Lord Desharik. I don't need to remind you that Amnish law doesn't extend to this place, do I?" He held out his free hand. "You owe one hundred gold pieces. "

The old gnome let out a weak whimper and closed his eyes, awaiting his punishment as he involuntarily pushed himself tighter into the wall.

Unable to stand the sight, but not knowing what she could do, Nirra averted her eyes from the scene, clinging to Torri's arm. "Shouldn't we help him?" she whispered.

"Shh..." The moon elf discreetly pointed her back to the scene.

Nirra turned just in time to see another man, a fully cloaked and hooded figure -- obviously a male though. The stranger placed his hand on the debt collector's shoulder, holding him off.

"I will pay for him," he said calmly. There was a subtle threat masked behind those words, compelling the collector to look down and lower the sword.

Still, a rough man, used to a hard life, the pirate was not fully intimidated. "Who the hell are..."

"No one you should concern yourself with, I assure you," the hooded figure interrupted him, slipping him a full gem satchel.

He seemed ready to force the pirate to accept and clench his fingers over it, but there was no need for that. Despite whatever reasons he might have hesitated for, the collector could still recognize his own benefit.

"This is worth far more than one hundred gold pieces," the cloaked man added. "I do believe this good gnome is safe from paying any taxes for... say, his entire life."

There was something about this man that gave no room for defiance. At least not in the current situation, when crossing him wouldn't even be worth the effort. He knew how to play his cards. Nirra and Torri exchanged knowing looks, agreeing at least on that one thing.

"Yes, Sir. For sure," the pirate collector babbled, before setting off in a rush.

"Such generosity is rare," whispered the gold elf as she watched him off, with a hint of admiration for the gnome's savior.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Torri replied. "Don't forget that kind, honorable people usually can't afford such acts of charity." The moon else doubted the man was the knight-in-shining-armor Nirra's tone seemed to make him.

As they turned their looks to the scene again, they noticed the gnome was done thanking his hooded savior and had run to attend to his other matters, probably his frightened family. To Nirra's pleasant surprise, and Torri's suspicious worry, the mysterious stranger was now heading towards them. Stopping only a few steps away and bowing quietly, he seemed to measure the two elves with care.

"It looks as if you were about to interfere, as well," he said, his intent hard to grasp from his neutral tone.

"Yes, although we wouldn't have been able to handle it this smoothly," Nirra replied, smiling.

But, if the gold elf didn't even think there was a need for any caution, Torri studied the man as attentively as he was observing them. The black hood was just an extension of his mage robes, which left no doubt as to what he was. The question was... what did he really want with them? He also seemed to know far more than they were aware of, which might have been a disadvantage she would need to keep in mind.

"Who is Desharik?" she asked, trying to seem casual and not show hostility -- there was no need for it yet and, sure she had heard that name before, she was curious.

"Ah, newcomers, aren't you?" The hooded man chuckled, as he answered her question with another question.

"Obviously." Torri frowned. "But there's no need for such games; you could have just answered my question."

The man let out a soft laugh as he took off his hood, uncovering his face. His skin was slightly tanned and his brown hair clean, which proved he didn't spend all of his time so perfectly concealed from the sun. The usual intelligence of the scholar could be read on his face, even though, on the right cheek, he bore the scar of an old battle -- one of odd nature, that simply melted into different shapes depending on the angle one watched it from.

"Desharik," he said after that, "is the Pirate Lord. The greatest -- and perhaps only -- authority here in Brynnlaw. Of course, it's common knowledge he runs errands for the Cowled Wizards who run Spellhold, the Asylum in the mountains. They've even invested him with the authority of having people committed. Or so I had heard."

"Would you be a Cowled Wizard, perhaps?" Nirra inquired.

Torri rolled her eyes -- too late to stop the gold elf's silly question. They had heard and seen much of them in Athkatla, what with Nirra being a mage and the Amnish law that spells should not be cast in the City, and it was obvious to Torri that this man was no such thing.

"No," he replied simply, instead of wielding another mockery, as Torri had thought he would. "I'm just a wandering mage." He paused to flash the brief trace of a smile. "And might I know what brought two beautiful elf-ladies like you to such a place?"

"How is that any of your concern?" Torri's eyes narrowed in a frown. It always irritated her when random strangers adopted such an approach with them.

"Oh... Please, don't mind her. She's very tired." Nirra giggled, trying to be as gentle as possible with Torri's feelings. "It's no big secret, really... We are just here to collect a small reward someone promised for our help."

"I see." The man nodded a little, though a new matter had caught his interest -- both his eyes were now fixed upon Torri, and one of his eyebrows raised. "I suppose your companion here is always this friendly?"

Nirra chuckled, although at first she had attempted to hold back her amusement... But the tone he had used, and the smile... It was just too much for the light-hearted gold elf. "Yes, mostly," she replied. "But I find it refreshing."

Torri scowled, gritting her teeth for a long moment and trying to stay calm. "What do you care, anyway?" she muttered.

"I don't, really." The man shrugged. "It only found it... amusing. You resemble a morose dwarf." Then, waving a dismissive hand the moon elf's way, which didn't allow her to reply anymore, he addressed Nirra once again. "My name is Selvord Knave... Most people take a liking to calling me by my last name alone, rather than my first. So help yourself to it."

"Knave," Nirra nodded. "Somehow it is, indeed, befitting. Well, my name is Nehera Erenlin, but Nirra will suffice. As for my friend, she's Toreen of Sareil... I call her Torri, but I cannot really speak for her when it comes to other people." The gold elf almost chuckled again.

"I don't care." Torri took advantage of this to slip back into the conversation. "And may I know..." -- she turned towards Knave, her attitude rather suspicious, if not almost accusing -- "...where exactly you got all those gems you used to save the gnome?"

"Oh, the gems!" Knave laughed a little. "There's plenty of them to be found out there. You know, the usual. Dragon lairs, bandits, the Underdark... I've been here and there with many a party. I seem to always end up back on my own, though, after a while."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Torri smirked, and hurried to change the subject, in order to steal the opportunity of a reply from him just as he had previously done to her. "At any rate, we should be going now."

"Torri... wait," Nirra called. Then, the gold elf's gaze turned back to Knave. "Sir, you seem to have had so many wonderful adventures... If it's not too much to ask, perhaps we could join you on your next one?"

"What?" Torri stopped in her tracks, having already turned to walk away. "Absolutely not. Let's go. Now."

"Well," Knave seemed to not even be aware that a certain moon elf existed. "Tag along, then. I was planning to leave Brynnlaw pretty soon."

Nirra looked at her moon elven friend, pleading with her silently. This went on for a few moments, with Torri's expression softening gradually.

"Please?" Nirra bid her, in the end.

The moon elf just sighed, and nodded. "Two conditions," she said. "One: not the Underdark, under any circumstances; and two: we're here already, so let's collect that ring first." She pointed right up along the nearest set of stairs carved in stone, where a building was marked as the Temple of Umberlee.

"I take it the ring is the reward you were here for?" Knave inquired.

"Yes, it is," Torri replied, continuing to eye the building impatiently.

He tilted his head. "You really didn't strike me as followers of Umberlee."

Torri just shrugged and, her patience having reached its limits, she turned away and began to ascend the stairs.

"We aren't," Nirra was, however, quick to reply, quite outraged by the perspective.

Knave nodded, and then they both rushed behind Torri, who wasn't even acting as though she were supposed to wait for them anymore.