Lysara knew she had only put a bandage, and a thin one at that, over the wound in their group. It wouldn't take much effort for it to tear and blood to start flowing. She couldn't help but grimace at the image that that euphemism invoked. The thought of her friends trying to kill each other was tearing at her heart; and she resolved to deal with it after they dealt with the mines.
The ride was actually fairly pleasant, though the drow stayed quiet, ignoring the equally quiet druid. Jaheira seemed less hostile to her than she had before, though the mistrust was still there. Suspicion and even a little gratitude were both present. Lysara concluded that she'd helped more than Imoen or Jaheira herself in the aftermath of dispelling the glamor as she had. And the drow had saved Lysara's life by putting a hold spell on the doppelganger when she had as well.
"Alright," Lysara said as she signaled them to cluster together. "Those 'little horned devils' that Ghastkill mentioned… what can they be?"
"Imps, quasits, a few other possibilities," Jaheira speculated. "We won't know until we get down there."
"Could fel magic be behind the taint?" Lysara asked.
"I doubt that is the case," Viconia interjected quietly. "You have said that diviners were employed to examine the tainted products and ore. Either they are all uncharacteristically stupid, and missed the signs of fel energy, or there was none to be found."
"And you would know of fel energy… how?" Jaheira asked.
"I am a drow trained in the priestly arts," Viconia answered, just as quietly. "You cannot complete your curriculum in any drow city without summoning at least a few creatures of the lower planes."
"Well… I'm sure we're aware of the average intellect of menial workers. It could be that the kobolds that Ghastkill mentioned are the same thing as the creatures the miners are talking about."
The mines came into sight and Lysara very nearly rode her horse over the edge into the mine proper. She and the others dismounted, leading their mounts to the start of the path down before hobbling them.
"Thank you for earlier," Viconia said quietly to her as they walked down the path.
Lysara shrugged. "I said I'd protect you," she reminded the drow.
"From the townspeople… your words, your promise put you under no obligation to defend me from your friends as well."
"I count you as a friend too, Viconia." She smiled at the drow as she said that, and received a small one in return.
"Until the next time I betray you, then," the drow replied with the sound of a joke in her voice.
"Why did you choose me over your benefactors?" Lysara asked a moment later. It was always better to be safe than sorry.
"I more than half expect that my… benefactors, as you put it… that they intended nothing more than to kill me right alongside you had I delivered what I promised. They have given me no reason to believe otherwise. You… you have yet to betray your word to me in any way I can detect."
"I have no intention of betraying or deceiving you, Viconia."
"Thank you again, avvil." The drow sounded skeptical, but less so than Lysara would have expected.
"I'm not sure what that word means," Lysara prompted.
"The closest translation- is 'friend,'" the drow informed her. Lysara couldn't help but smile at that. Too easy, a voice in the back of her mind cautioned.
The mine's surface level was much, much wider than Lysara had imagined. She'd expected just a small hole in the ground that lead into an underground cave system from which the ore was dug. In actuality it was a wide, deep basin which was crisscrossed with footpaths and ramps, natural and cut from the earth and made of wood. There were platforms and pulleys and cranes all over the perimeter, many of which looked to have been disabled.
Of course, there was a rather large passage that fit her original expectations, at the very bottom of the basin, with a very grumpy looking man sitting on a boulder facing it. He was in charge, Lysara could tell at a glance, though he was but one of a small crowd of archers forming a semicircle around the perimeter.
"You must be the lot that Ghastkill sent," he spat when they came up close, without turning around. "Though I only hear three of you. Thought there were nine…" Turning around he flicked his eyes between the five of them. "Oh. Elves. And where're the rest what're supposed to be with you? Well, you're late and short on people. I sure hope you're not squeamish about caves. Blasted kobolds have forced all my workers out completely. Dozens of them down there, maybe more."
"A strange and highly convenient happenstance, that we would arrive just as the kobolds decide to move openly," Viconia commented.
"Methinks we're expected," Imoen added, fishing through her bag of holding and extracting a wide ring that she contented herself to just hold in her hand for the moment.
"Collaborator, or tricky communications system, you think?" Lysara asked.
"Could be one, both, or neither," Imoen replied. "Probably that doppelganger we cut loose earlier."
The man in charge spat on the ground at his feet. "We pay our sodding workers near twice what other mines do. Why? Because we can, and still turn a decent profit. Still, there are one or two I wouldn't put it past."
"Going to question them?" Lysara asked.
"Only if one of you can call up the spirits of the dead. The two I'm think'n of died this morning in the first few seconds of them kobolds bubbling up."
"So they eliminated their sources when they were no longer useful," Viconia said approvingly. "I could do as you suggest, though I would need half a day to prepare first."
"Perhaps you know something of this… happenstance, Viconia?" Jaheira asked.
"I have told you all I know of the plot against your friend," the drow returned. "I was approached, I was given instructions and a hollow promise, and an update was delivered last night. That is all. I am done with them."
"We will see," Jaheira replied. Lysara just rubbed her temples, feeling the pressure starting to build already.
"How many Kobolds?" Lysara asked the foreman.
"Ask any two of my men and you'll get six different answers on that," he replied, spitting again. At least he looked chagrined about it. Lysara concluded that he must be married, or at least betrothed, and halfway civilized as a result. "Enough to slaughter six men and force another twenty out of the tunnels, at least. But then, these ain't exactly trained soldiers. Most men turn to mining and such 'cause they don't want to fight, or can't fight for whatever reason."
"Are you expecting anyone besides that pair from Rasheman?" Lysara asked. "You said nine. With the two we were expecting that makes seven."
"Aye, there's two more volunteers what're supposed to be here… ah, now I'm guessing," he replied, glancing over Lysara's shoulder.
"Oh, there you are, pretty little woman," a low, stuttering voice said from behind her. She just closed her eyes for a moment and breathed. Damn it, she'd thought she was free of that pair.
Surely enough, when she turned around, Khalid and Jaheira were between her and the speaker, just as she'd predicted. Also just as she'd predicted, that speaker was Xzar, with Montaron right beside him. "What do you want?" Lysara asked flatly.
"Believe it or not, we want the same thing you do," Montaron told her.
"You're right, I don't believe it," she shot back instantly.
"Our employers want to know who is tainting the ore in this region, and why," Xzar agreed with Montaron as if she hadn't spoken. "And they – and therefore we – want that person or persons dead. Preferably in the slow, painful, humiliating fashion."
"I'm thinking we can maybe be working together in this," the Halfling offered.
"Think again," Lysara replied, just as flatly.
"And why's that?" he pushed.
"Because I'd sooner trust the scorpion's word that he wouldn't sting me if I swam him across the river before I'd believe a word out of either of your mouths," Lysara retorted, referring to a very old parable.
"Is there a problem here?" a woman's accented voice asked as Dynaheir and Minsc descended the path. The big man had a strange metal frame on his face, with discs of glass contoured in a way that looked to encompass his entire field of vision installed in them.
"You're a little late, and I was starting to wonder if Edwin had gotten you, but otherwise, no," Lysara answered.
"No, no problem at all," Montaron agreed. "Nine's a bit much to be goin' down there though…"
"Good thing only seven are going down," Lysara insisted even as Minsc opened his mouth to speak.
"Lass, let's be reasonable," the Halfling began.
"Run off, little one, before I decide to tell Ghastkill exactly who you are and who you work for," Lysara warned. "I've no patience for your ilk and I imagine he has even-"
She leaned quickly to the side to avoid the first knife thrown at her, and had her blades in hand as quickly as Montaron had pulled his. She swatted a second one out of the air without even thinking about it. This time it was Xzar bashing the Halfling over his head with his staff that prevented the situation from deteriorating. "Peace!" He shouted, holding his staff high and holding his other hand out unmoving. "Come now, Lysara… pretty little Lysara… we saved your life once," the mad mage reminded her. "If you turn us aside from investigating this matter, our masters will murder us, and you may as well have murdered us yourself. Surely you don't want our murders on your conscience. Murder is such a poor repayment for saving your life."
He knew. That was the only explanation for the subtle emphasis he'd placed on her sire's portfolio no less than four times in two sentences. How he'd gotten a good enough gauge of her character to guess at the promise she'd made to her god was an open question, unless she was much more predictable than she'd thought. But she was far from convinced of their sincerity. In fact, he'd likely just threatened to reveal her secret if she revealed theirs. She just stared at the mage through narrowed eyes, without taking the whole of her attention from Montaron, who was groaning and picking himself up.
"You can't be considering it," Jaheira said. "I draw the line at working with them."
"No. I'm not tempted in the slightest to bring them along," Lysara confirmed, and the druid relaxed. "Xzar, I don't care what your masters do to you. That's their choice, and yours for serving them in the first place. I've no part in that, and not saving you isn't the same thing at all as killing you. You can wait up here, but you are not coming with us. I will not trust someone of your organization at my back. If I catch sight of you down there, no matter what you're doing, I'll assume that your intent is hostile."
"Well," Xzar replied indignantly, his eyes glinting dangerously. And then he just grinned at his Halfling friend. "You hear that, Monty? She's going to investigate for us!"
"Eh?" the Halfling asked as he made it to his feet. Like Xzar, he didn't seem to care that the other had struck him.
"Oh, our orders never specified that we have to do the investigating, only that we have to find out what's going on here! It's kind of like subcontracting: let's let them take all the damage from the kobolds and the… whatever else may be down there and when they come back up we'll just listen in when she reports back anyway!"
"We're still right here," Lysara reminded the Zhents, making the mage jump.
"Oh, why so you are," the mage replied before lowering his voice. "Cursed elven hearing," he mumbled as if he hadn't been speaking at a normal level in the first place. "And thrice-cursed elven women. Hmpf!"
"Come along," she said to her companions, turning to the foreman. "I don't suppose you'd have a map of where in the mines your workers have gone missing? My bet is that there's a hidden passage somewhere near there to wherever these kobolds are coming from."
"Aye, I thought of that. And I sent men in last night to have a look, and ain't seen them since. Just go on in and take it if it's still there. Little devils have probably torched and sacked the place." He proceeded to give them directions.
"Any places down there that don't like fire?" Lysara asked.
"You mean the warm air that makes fireballs with the slightest spark? No. Not that we've found anyway. Still, if you have a magical light, you'll be advised to use it instead."
"I can do that," Imoen supplied, looking curiously at the Rashemi woman.
"As can I," Dynaheir told Imoen with a smile. "I'm sure we'll enjoy shop talk as it were later."
"We'll make introductions when we're out of earshot of that pair," Lysara said. "Okay, let's move in single file. Minsc, you're in front." She figured that was where the berserker wanted to be, and the better to protect Dynaheir from threats that came upon them suddenly. "I'll go next, then Imoen, then Viconia, then Dynaheir, then Jaheira. Khalid, you're bringing up the rear."
"How did you know…" Jaheira began, looking startled.
"Simple really… I've had a while to think about the best way to proceed, and this was the most sensible solution," she answered. "I'm sure I don't need to bore you on the details of why I put each person where."
"No, I already understand your reasoning," the druid admitted grumpily.
"Y-you really are turning into q-quite the capable l-leader," Khalid told her, still glancing at the Zhents behind them, and then his wife as if he couldn't decide who he found more intimidating. Montaron had taken out a skin of… something and was passing it back and forth with the mage. Whichever on wasn't drinking was talking, but she couldn't make out a single word.
"If that pair turns up, don't wait to find out what they're about. They mean us no good, you can be sure of that. And if we get separated, make your way back up here."
"You seem jumpy over them," Dynaheir observed. "Why?"
"You mentioned someone whose plots rival the organization that the man whose chasing you belongs to. They're with them, and please keep it quiet."
The foreign woman blinked, and then looked at the two evildoers more contemplatively.
"Oh conundrums," Minsc said with a plaintive sound. "Boo, what to do? I cannot protect Dynaheir from these villains if I am up front, but I cannot protect her from the dangers in the mines if I am in the rear…" The hamster climbed up to his shoulder and started squeaking in it, right in front of everyone. "No, Boo… we cannot do that. Dynaheir has forbidden us from attacking someone unless they're actively posing danger to her." He paused again, listening to his hamster squeak; and Imoen was staring at him skeptically. "Yes, yes. I must trust our new friends to watch over her from the dangers that they know, while I plant my boot in the buttocks of evils unknown ahead! Ha ha!"
"Umm," Imoen said, looking at Lysara doubtfully.
Lysara just shrugged in reply. "Let's go," she ordered. "Dynaheir, is it at all possible that you can seal the entrance against those two behind us?"
Dynaheir just nodded, and they all paused just inside to wait for her to cast her spell while Imoen watched intently and slipped her ring on at the same time. "There," she declared when she was done, though the opening looked no different to Lysara. "Air can pass through both ways, but it is a solid barrier otherwise. If the mage dispels it, I will know instantly."
"Good enough. Will Minsc have any trouble seeing in the dark?"
"No. That is what his infra-scopes are for."
"Alright then. Imoen, have you got… that spell you used on the werewolves memorized?" Lysara asked.
"Nope," the woman answered. "It came off one of my emergency pages. I can't cast it again."
"Emergency page?" This time it was Dynaheir that asked.
"There's a set of pages in the back of my book that are actually scrolls… well, let's leave it at no, I can't use it again… that I know of."
"May I ask what this spell does? Perhaps I have…"
"Not to be rude, but can you girls do your mage swap later? We're not exactly safe here," Lysara told them, and they nodded. Imoen looked chagrined while Dynaheir didn't seem to care.
The tunnels were unremarkable, unlit, and unoccupied bores through the earth with the occasional wooden framework holding them up as they followed the directions that the foreman had given them, though Lysara thought she could hear jabbering and the occasional scrape of stone on stone as they moved. As predicted, the office had been utterly trashed, and there was no trace of anything metal other than the nails in the support beams and the furniture. But they hadn't set fire to anything and the papers and maps were all intact. Examining one showed that the tunnel system was more complex than she'd anticipated, and much, much larger than she'd thought. Imoen quickly found the record of who had gone missing where, and they were off.
The first level was almost completely clear, though they caught a kobold pouring… something into a mining cart. It screeched when it saw them and dropped what looked to be a lump of iron ore on the ground. It was still reaching for its weapon when Lysara's arrow claimed its life.
"An interesting weapon," the witch commented as she strode forward. "And a very clever trick…"
"That what I think it is?" Imoen asked as they set up positions around the defiled cart.
"That'll depend on what you think it is," Lysara prompted her as she scanned one of the tunnels.
"They hollowed out a piece of iron ore, then poured whatever this stuff is into it," Imoen explained. "No idea what the fluid is though, but once they were done with it, all they had to do was drop the container into the mine cart. I'm betting that no one even glances at the rocks before they go to smelt them."
"Yes, but how are they…" Dynaheir began, cut off by the sound of a lot of kobolds jabbering nearby.
Lysara knew what she was wondering. If there was only one way in or out, how were they bringing in the materials to make their little concoction? There must have been a back door somewhere that the foreman didn't know about. The only other possibility was that a turncoat had been smuggling the stuff in, but that didn't make sense to her. They would have either had to smuggle in one ingredient at the time, which wouldn't have allowed time to produce as much as they'd need; or that turncoat was very, very good.
"Stay quiet, and let's move," Lysara bade them, gesturing at the next tunnel. They had several more forks in their path before they found the tunnel they were looking for, and fortunately they only had to fight once, just as they'd arrived at the indicated tunnel. The Rashemi berserker did almost all of it before the others could move.
"Alright, their base has got to be near here some-AHH!" she started, cutting off with a squeal when she moved off to the side. Someone had covered a pitfall with a cloth and piled dirt and stone atop of it. She dropped her bow as she fell through it.
Someone grabbed her cloak, but it only gave a sharp tug before coming off of her shoulders as she tumbled. Her friends were all yelling for her as she fell and tumbled. Their voices faded long before she finally came to a rest at the base of the shaft. She picked herself up, coughing and waving her hand in front of her face to dispel the loose dust, and looked around.
She was alone, she was certain. She had no idea how long her fall had taken, and she was filthy. She didn't care for any of those facts, and she realized that she'd never been completely alone before, except to sleep. At least she wasn't buried alive… she could taste the air moving, if slowly. But she was in a part of the complex she was sure wasn't on the map. Looking back up made her heart sink. The passage had collapsed behind her, and she could just feel the faint vibrations of whatever had caused the shaft to seal behind her. But listen as hard as she would, she couldn't hear any sound made my anything living beyond the plug. Fighting down a surge of panic, more for her companions than herself, she pulled her blades and picked a tunnel to set off into.
"Damn it," she swore at least five times as she kept hitting dead ends.
She was rapidly starting to hate caves, but made herself calm down, and started making a mental map of the section she was in. There was nothing significant she could detect to use as a navigation mark, and the acoustics were playing havoc with her hearing. And then there was the near-stillness of the air. Everything smelled foul, unused.
She didn't like it down here at all.
After organizing herself and taking stock of her surroundings, she started getting a feel for the system's layout. She couldn't find a way out, or even back to where she'd been before she fell; but eventually she heard rushing water, and figured that if there was a way for water to get in, it might mean a way back to the surface for her. She was just surprised that she hadn't encountered any hostiles.
As if on cue, a pair of kobolds surprised her by turning around a corner, and only her chainmail saved her from losing her sword arm when the closer one slashed at her. By the gods that strike hurt, but her counterstroke opened the rat's throat and her thrown dagger buried itself in the other creature's heart before they could move to follow up. She knew it was back in its sheath before she even put a hand to it. A healing prayer later and she was fine, but moving more cautiously.
She blinked at the sudden light when she came out at an overlook for a small cavern. She supposed that Viconia would probably appreciate the place better than she would. There was a large building on the middle of a lake at the bottom of the basin, fed from what looked to be an underground stream, where the light was streaming from. It was definitely artificial, constructed of white stone that contrasted with the local dark, and thirty feet high at the apex. It was more or less dome-shaped, and had only one walkway connecting the entrance to the lake bed.
She didn't see anything moving at all beyond the rippling of the lake's surface where the stream fed into it. Supposing that the kobolds were all out and about hunting for her friends, she slipped down the short fall between her and the cavern floor. She just hoped that they were alright, and had no choice but to trust that they would be a match for any force of those vermin that were sent against them. She stole quietly across the open space between her and the… she supposed it was the front door; and paused outside of it, listening.
"… about to be discovered!" a loud, rough voice was saying. She didn't hear even a whisper of reply but the speaker spoke again as if he was holding a conversation. "I don't know if the girl is involved or not. Why are you so obsessed with that elf? Our whole scheme is about to be blown apart. If pure iron starts coming out of this mine… Yes sir… I understand…"
She peeked around the edge of the door, seeing a large creature standing facing an empty picture frame as he hung his head. She could see a massive claymore sheathed on its back, and the damned thing looked wickedly sharp. Her chainmail probably wouldn't stop it, she thought. "Damned Vok. 'Destroy the project' he says… 'can't let them find it'… bah." He reached up and touched the frame, before pulling it off the wall and smashing it against the floor. 'It' was a half-orc male, at least half again Lysara's height, and proportionately brawny; with brown skin and a stupid-looking face.
Stupid or not, he saw her when he turned around, and pulled his blade off its back even as she started casting the same hold that she'd used on the bounty hunter the previous night. "You?" it demanded instead of charging, which gave her all the time she needed. Her spell went off, and the huge brute froze.
"I'll just take that," Lysara said, sheathing her dagger as she stepped up and reached for the grip of the huge weapon.
"Sure you will," he replied. She'd almost managed to touch it when he sped it forward, pommel first, right into her forehead. The world exploded in a flash of light.
She staggered, dropping her blade as her vision swam, and let herself fall away from the creature. Even dazed she could feel the wake of the sword passing over her where her neck had been a mere moment ago, and felt the brute's follow up kick land in her rib cage. She rolled with it, but found her back literally against the wall. She drew her dagger and threw blindly in one motion, but only heard the clink of it being deflected.
"I don't know why the boss wants you so bad, but best not to disappoint," the creature said with surprising eloquence. She grabbed at his wrists when she felt his hands on her throat, but it was obvious that he was much stronger than she was. She didn't move those massive arms a hair.
He was squeezing, and she couldn't draw air in. Focusing herself was a chore, but she aimed a kick right at his groin, encountering a metal codpiece instead. The only reaction she got from him was a grunt. "Why do women always do that? You shouldn't have dropped your pretty little weapons, wench," he taunted, his eyes filling her bespotted vision. "Oh don't worry. Boss-man wants you himself. You'll wake up, but you won't like it."
Her blades… letting go of his hands, she reached down, pulling her dagger and stabbing through his forearm. He howled in surprise and pain, and let go of her throat, staring dumbfounded at his newfound wound. Wrenching herself up, she pulled her sword and took off his other arm, just above the elbow. She could barely breathe, let alone talk as she braced one foot next to his ankle and kicked at his other knee with the other.
He tripped, falling over with a renewed cry as her dagger slipped out of his forearm. She straddled his chest and drove it into his somewhat-good shoulder instead, just to make sure he couldn't possibly overpower her again. She murmured a soft prayer, not enough to heal him, but enough to stop him from dying on her just yet. There were questions she had for him.
"Talk," she rasped, still trying to catch her breath before she turned her healing magic on herself.
"I'll… I'll tell you everything!" he promised. "Just don't kill me!"
He wasn't a threat anymore, and killing him would have been simple murder. She had utterly no intention of doing that. "I won't kill you," she promised him. "But I've got a drow friend. You're familiar with the drow, aren't you? If I sense you're lying to me I'll let her have a turn on you. Wouldn't like that, would you?" The half-orc shook his head. "Who're you working for?"
"I don't know his name. He makes me call him 'Vok' when I have to address him directly," the brute told her.
"And what does 'Vok' look like?" she asked, already suspecting the answer.
"Big guy, human I think but he fights like a demon… wears this armor that stops me from seein' his face or anythin' about him. All black, it's got a lot of spikes with these big horns coming out of the helmet, and his eyes are yellow and glow like torches. Uh… he's got a claymore, the only one I've ever seen with a serrated edge."
"And who does he work for?" Lysara asked. Koveras. Was that an alias, perhaps? Though if you turn the first syllable around it achieved that effect…
"I don't know that he works for anyone!"
"Okay. What about a woman? Has he got a human woman about my size working for him? Brown hair and eyes, round face, fights with a katana."
"What? How do you know about Tomoko?" the goon asked disbelievingly. "Yeah, she's his bitch. Bends over every time he says to, goes where he wants her to and talks to who he says. She kills for him too, though he likes to do that himself."
She ignored his question. So the man who had killed Gorion was the one behind the iron crisis… or at least a liaison for the ones who were. And he liked killing. That was a tidbit that she didn't have before. "Who does she serve? Besides Vok, I mean."
"I ain't even supposed to know that… the Iron Throne!" The last came out as a squawk when she batted the pommel of her dagger, still sticking out of his shoulder. "She works for the Iron Throne. It's… it's a trading company based in Baldur's Gate."
"How have you been tainting the iron?"
"It's a mix of… several different potions. The recipe is in the table with all the apparatuses on it." He looked off to her left, at the table he'd been standing in front of when she'd first sighted him.
"Now… why have you been doing it?" she asked.
"Vok told me to. He beat me… real easy… says he owns me and I have to do what he says, or I'll wish for the slow, painful death."
"Did he say why you were to be tainting the ore?"
"No, and he almost killed me anyway when I asked."
"There you are!" Imoen's voice came from the doorway. Lysara was off the bastard in an instant, taking her dagger with her and making him howl when it slid free. She also noticed that the human was wearing her bow slantwise across her body. "Gods Lys, we were scared witless!"
She hugged her friend, who looked at her throat, glanced at her brow, and then looked murderously at the helpless half-orc. "Well, as you can see I'm alright. What happened to you?"
"I don't know how, but Montaron and Xzar were right behind us with that Thayvian… Edwin? The second you screamed they started casting, and Dynaheir and I were too busy dodging knives to even try to interrupt their spells. We barely had time to get further in before they collapsed the tunnel we'd just come out of. If Viconia weren't there we'd be dead. She conjured some kind of shield that kept the tunnel from collapsing around our ears as we ran."
"Is everyone alright?"
"Yeah. Minsc took a rock to the head but I don't think he even noticed, if you know what I mean."
"I'm just glad everyone's alright," Lysara said before returning her attention to the saboteur. "You're coming with us into Nashkel, and then you're going to answer some more questions that I probably haven't thought of yet."
"Please… just kill me quick," the brute pleaded. "You don't know what they'll do to me if they find out I talked…"
She felt something settle around her shoulders and realized that Jaheira was next to her, putting her cloak about her shoulders for her. "You're covered in blood, Lysara," the druid said. "You'll need a bath when we get back to town. Have you at least managed to pry some answers out of this one?"
"Plenty," she said, clasping her cloak as she moved to the table, reaching for its solitary drawer.
"Wait!" Imoen protested, and Lysara's hand froze just an inch from touching it. "There's magic coming off the drawer front. Probably a trap."
Imoen poked at it for a few seconds while Lysara just glared at the practically armless creature. Then she got out her old lock picks – the first time Lysara had seen them since Candlekeep – and deftly disabled a mechanical trap before opening the drawer.
"What's in there?" the druid asked curiously.
"One big alchemy book," Imoen informed her as the rest of their companions filed in. They all looked dirty, but none the worse for wear, and all of them, even Viconia, greeted her enthusiastically. "A loose sheet of paper that looks like a formula, a few letters, and some kind of handle."
"Make copies of that formula. I want it distributed to all of Khalid and Jaheira's contacts as soon as possible."
"You're thinking there could be a counteragent?" Jaheira asked.
"Maybe. Or at the least it'll be on hand if someone ever tries to pull this in the future," Lysara answered. Moving over next to the half-orc, she squatted down, opposite Viconia, who was just watching him bleed. "There's another way out of here, isn't there?" she asked.
He nodded.
"Is it trapped?"
He shook his head.
"Is it guarded?"
"It was… I pulled all my kobolds out and put them to work harrying the miners when word came down that a Knight of the Heart made it through. The rest are all out burning and pillaging for some sort of religious frenzy."
"I found this one chained up in the back," Minsc said as he pushed a dark-haired elf with blue skin into the room from a back area Lysara hadn't even noticed. "What should we do with him?"
"Thank you for freeing me from that creature," the moon elf said in a depressed-sounding monotone. "You're going to doom me now, aren't you?"
"Free? You were some sort of slave?" Lysara asked.
"Oh yes. I was taken from one of the earliest caravan raids," the man said. "My name is Xan."
Frowning, Lysara turned once again to the half-orc. "So there were survivors from the bandit raids… and your boss has the bandits working for him as well, feeding him pure iron and a free workforce from the caravans they hit. Is that right? The prisoners from the bandit raids: where are they taken?"
"No survivors," he answered. "Just slaves. All I know about them is that they were put to work."
"You didn't hear a mention of what or where?" Jaheira put in before Lysara could quite start talking.
"Cloak Mine. I wasn't even supposed to hear that, so I don't know what they meant by that."
"I think he's lying," Viconia put in, smiling wickedly down at the creature. He shuffled away by kicking his feet. "Should I convince him to tell the truth, avvil?"
"Oh I know he is. He was the one who got it out of Yeslick," Xan told them nonchalantly.
"Who?" Lysara inquired.
"Yeslick. He was a dwarf priest of… Clangeddin I think. Dwarf gods all have same-sounding names to my ear. He was on the same caravan as me, so he got brought in at the same time. He accidentally told them about an iron mine in Cloakwood. But it's suicide to go there. It was an abandoned dwarf clan hold to begin with, and the Throne has it more heavily manned and fortified than a castle."
"So… they're choking off iron coming in, poisoning iron locally mined, and mining pure iron themselves with slave labor," Lysara said, frowning as she thought about it.
"Who is 'they'?" Jaheira asked.
"The Iron Throne. The man who killed father appears to be the one behind this plot," she replied distractedly.
"What?" Khalid, Imoen, and Jaheira all demanded simultaneously.
Lysara shrugged. "That's what the half-orc told me. Give me a minute to think."
"Not to be intrusive," Xan said after a moment, "but has anyone seen my Moonblade? It would look like an ordinary handle unless it's turned on."
"This it?" Imoen asked, picking something up out of the drawer.
"Oh yes. Please may I have it back?"
"In a little while," Lysara said. "I need to think some things through first."
What was the purpose? Why create this iron shortage only to stockpile it… the answer occurred to her in a flash. There was only one thing a trading company as large as the Iron Throne appeared to be wanted: money. If the only source of reliable iron around was one company, then if hostilities broke out between the iron-starved country it was based in and its neighbor broke out – in this case, Amn – then they'd be able to charge exorbitant prices for weapons and armor that wouldn't break when some kid decided to use them as a set of drums. But how did that murderer Koveras and his apparent obsession with her fit into the equation? Was her blood just a bonus to him? There was something missing. There was something she wasn't seeing.
"Jaheira… I've heard some rumors that tensions are running high between the Grand Dukes and the Council of Six," Lysara prompted the druid.
"Indeed. The Dukes are blaming Amn for the iron shortage as a prelude to invasion, and the Council doesn't appreciate it… foundless as we now know it to be. Why?"
Lysara explained her reasoning, as well as relaying the information she'd extracted from the half-orc. The druid looked impressed, but grave. Everyone else just looked grave. "Yes… I agree with you, at least with the information we have now. You… Xan, was it? Do you think that you could lead us to the mine in Cloakwood?"
"Oh no, even if I knew where it was beyond 'somewhere in Cloakwood,' I wouldn't go there," he replied. "Like I said, it's suicide."
"There're people in there who need help," Lysara said, seeing why the druid wanted to go there.
"It was their own weakness which led to them being there," Viconia put in. "If they are too weak to break their chains then they deserve to remain in them."
"Quiet you foul little…" Jaheira began.
"Enough," Lysara cut in. "Viconia, that's… sometimes, no matter how powerful you are, you need a helping hand. Did you deserve to be put in those chains if we hadn't come along? Assuming, of course that they even took you alive."
The drow shrugged. "I was taken as a pleasure slave when I first reached the surface," she told them apathetically. "I broke my chains once, I could do so again."
Lysara blinked. She hadn't even guessed at that. "I think we've tarried here long enough," she said at length, feeling a swell of pity for the drow. "Let's see this 'back door' that the foreman doesn't even know exists."