Author's Note: I'd hoped to be done with this chapter sooner but, well, it grew. I know a lot of people hate this part of the campaign. I admit that I'm not at all averse to a nice dungeon crawl but Carona, I think, would rather find another way through…

Chapter 16…Logram's Lair

"There's something strange about that man," Neeshka whispered in Carona's ear as they watched the Katalmach speak with Katriona, his second in command. He looked clear-eyed and well rested despite his late night vigil. It was early in the morning and the camp was already in a bustle, but with a quiet tension that caught Carona's attention. She thought that most of the fighters were avoiding walking near or even looking towards the Katalmach's direction. Carona knew she ought to move away to give the two some privacy but, as usual, curiosity won out over manners.

"Don't do this, Casavir," Katriona said, her voice raised in agitation. She could not hear his low-pitched reply, but if it was meant to be calming, it had the opposite effect.

"We don't have enough able-bodied fighters to take on the Eyegougers and you know it," Katriona continued. Again, Carona could not hear his words. Casavir's deep voice did not carry like his sergeant's did. She edged a little closer.

"You…what? No, don't say that. I've seen that path. You know you'll just get yourself killed. Think of the rest of us, Casavir. Where will we be without you?"

The Katalmach shook his head slightly then noticed that Carona and Neeshka were watching him. He beckoned for them to approach.

"Uh oh, we're in for it now," Neeshka whispered but she followed Carona. Katriona stood with her arms crossed over her chest, looking terribly upset.

"If Logram Eyegouger holds the Waterdeep emissary captive, he must be freed as quickly as possible," Casavir said without preamble. "We have been watching Logram for some time. He and his war leader Yaisog Bonegnasher are busy amassing their forces for a decisive strike against the Greycloaks at Old Owl Well. I believe that he plans to commit all his fighters very soon, in the hopes of retaking the well before Nasher can send reinforcements."

"That would be disastrous," Carona said. If Old Owl Well was lost, how could she possibly complete her mission? How would they even manage to return to the city safely?

Casavir nodded.

"It occurs to me that the emissary was taken to hamper Nasher's communications with the Lords' Alliance and to make it more difficult for him to draw upon their resources. What do you think?"

"Are these orcs really that cunning?" Carona asked.

"It would be a mistake to underestimate Logram Eyegouger. He is formidable. It has taken more than mere strength for him to unite the tribes."

"If that is their plan, then surely they will have killed the emissary already," Katriona said. "So there's no need…"

"I think there is a good chance he still lives," Casavir said. "Issani is worth more to them alive than dead. Logram knows that holding the well will require gold as well as fighters." He paused and looked out across the camp. The morning was bright and cloudless. Elanee had told Carona that this side of the mountain range rarely saw rain. Even without orcs, the farmers here could not have had an easy life.

"If the Greycloaks fall now, I suspect Nasher will abandon Old Owl Well and turn his attention to other, more easily secured trade routes," Casavir said. "Nasher could not have anticipated that the orc tribes would band together as they have. He will cut his losses here, I fear, and the people who live here will be completely undefended. Our work will have been for nothing."

He gave Katriona a significant look. She frowned and looked at her feet.

"Does my assessment agree with your own observations?" he asked Carona. She had seen no point in pretending to be sent from the Council and had told him last night that she had been hired by 'the guild' to look for Issani. She may have implied that it was Neverwinter's trade guild she was working for, but she didn't actually lie about it. For some reason, she did not want to get caught in a lie by the Katalmach. Neeshka was right—there really was something strange about the man. Surely he was gods-touched, as his people seemed to believe. She could almost see fate hanging over him like a fey mantle.

"Lord Nasher committed every Greycloak he had to this venture, without totally stripping the city of defenses," she said slowly, remembering one of her discussions with Moire. "If they are lost—I don't know how he would replace them. If he levies another tax, I think some of the nobles…" She coughed. Without knowing Casavir's political leanings, she hesitated to hint at treason. "Well, I don't think they'd be too supportive. I can't see Lord Nasher being able to raise another army until the city reconstruction is complete unless the circumstances were truly dire."

"Exactly," he said. "I agree." Despite herself, she felt warmed by his approval. How did he do that? If she didn't watch herself, she was afraid she'd end up hanging on his every word like Katriona and the rest of his people. "At any rate, I feel that this is the opportune moment to move against the Eyegougers. Our best chance for freeing the emissary is now, while Logram's eyes are upon Old Owl Well. And if it happens that we can strike a blow against Logram himself then perhaps we can achieve what we have been fighting for these last months."

Katriona made a restless movement. Casavir put a hand on her shoulder.

"You know we have anticipated this day," he told her. "We have fought well against the orc raiding parties but what is coming is more than we can handle on our own." He turned back to Carona. "While it is important to try to free Issani, it is perhaps more important that the Greycloaks be warned of Logram's planned assault. What I propose is this. Katriona and my men will move swiftly to Old Owl Well, to reinforce the Greycloaks against Logram's advance. And if you are willing, Carona, I will lead you to Logram's clan hold. We will attempt to rescue Issani."

"Casavir, I told you…" Katriona protested.

"I believe you understand your orders," the Katalmach said in a tone that rang with finality. His sergeant gave him a look that was both angry and hurt but said no more.

Carona gestured for Khelgar and Elanee to come join the discussion.

"Let's get going," Khelgar said enthusiastically, as soon as he heard the proposal. "I'm more than ready to crack some orc skulls." His thick fingers caressed the shaft of his hammer and he grinned.

"Surely there is some other way," Elanee said, giving Carona a worried look. Neeshka's face was appalled but she said nothing. Carona found her silence worrying. She wondered if the tiefling would slip away and find her own way back to Neverwinter and she could hardly blame her for doing so. This was not Neeshka's fight, nor did tackling a horde of orcs in their lair sound like anything she herself was qualified to do.

And then the Katalmach gave her a reassuring half-smile and she found herself meekly agreeing to give his plan a try.

They didn't do so badly. Logram's stronghold was deep in the mountains. Elanee's tie to the creatures of the land was of immense help in locating orc scouts and hunting parties before they were seen by them. Whenever possible, they attacked in the bright daylight when the orcs were at a disadvantage. Neeshka had brought along a short hunting bow and she was a viciously good shot. And Casavir was a fighter after Khelgar's own heart. Katalmach indeed, he roared into battle with no more regard for his own safety than the dwarf had. Carona stayed in the shadows when she could and used the sword Khelgar had made her to finish off any orcs who made the mistake of trying to flank the two warriors.

They had been on the trail a couple of days before Carona remembered where she had first met Casavir. The memory came one night after they had finished their cold supper. Neeshka and Khelgar had already fallen into an exhausted sleep and Elanee had left to find some quiet spot for her reverie. Carona was on watch. She walked quietly about the camp. The sliver of moon was almost directly overhead and the pale stone of the sheltering cliff almost glowed in its light. When she found Casavir at his prayers, she had no sense of intruding upon his privacy. Rather, it was like coming upon a statue unexpected in a garden, a feast for the eyes. Carona doubted she had ever in her life felt the peace she saw on his rapt face but she felt no envy, only wonder.

When he blinked and suddenly met her gaze, it was if a cold bucket of water had been dashed over her.

"I'm sorry," she stuttered, hoping the night hid her embarrassment. "I did not mean to interrupt."

"Do not be," he said. He gave her one of his rare little smiles. And suddenly she thought she recognized in this shaggy-haired man with the rough growth of beard the neat and painfully shy young man she had seen once or twice in the Moonstone Mask. Had Ophala called him Casavir or did she have the wrong man after all? She wasn't sure.

"Is something amiss?" he asked and she realized she was staring.

"No. I thought you looked familiar, that's all. Have I seen you in Neverwinter? Aren't you the man Judge Oleff sent to protect Ophala Cheldarstorn—the paladin from the Hall of Justice?"

His face went very still.

"I left the order some time ago."

"I didn't mean to pry," she said quickly but of course she had.

Even at the time, she had thought Ophala's story didn't ring quite true. Carona could think of few women less in need of protection than Ophala. She had claimed she was being harassed by some noble and that was why she had begged the loan of a holy warrior, although judging from the stacks of books and the coming and going of messengers from the Archives, there was more to it than that. Carona had guessed she was up to some mischief and asked no more about it. Ophala was not a bad person but she loved her little schemes. She couldn't help but wonder if Casavir had got caught up in one of them, to his detriment.

"Had we met?" he asked. "I'm sorry; I do not recall."

"No," she said. "You were pointed out to me once or twice. We were never introduced."

"I…see." For a moment, she was afraid he was affronted. Paladins were enough of a rarity that they were liable to be pointed out anywhere. To find a paladin in the Moonstone Mask—that was strange. The Mask was little more than an expensive festhall, no matter what Ophala claimed. But she doubted that being pointed out pleased him. He seemed rather self-effacing—at least when he wasn't running into battle with his hammer in hand.

"I performed in the Mask sometimes," she said, as if this little confession would make him feel more comfortable. "I am a member of the Night Wings, an acrobatic troupe. Or I was. I was busy doing…other things and they left me behind."

"You are an acrobat?" he asked, brows lifting in inquiry. If he thought it bizarre that an acrobat would be sent after the missing emissary, he was too polite to say. "Then that explains…"

It was Carona's turn to lift her brows.

"The, er, exercises I've seen you doing every day. They do not seem a part of any training technique I am familiar with."

"I have to work to keep my flexibility. I don't suppose the Dance of Two Blades is taught in the Hall of Justice," she said, smiling.

"No." He gave her a thoughtful look. "To use your skills for entertainment is as good a use as any—and better than some."

"I think so," she said uncomfortably, remembering some of the other uses for her 'skills'.

"I was surprised that the trade guild would hire one of Lower Planes blood," he said, casting his gaze towards Neeshka's sleeping bag. "That is more…broad-minded than I would have expected."

"She is a friend of mine," Carona said. "She travels with me for, well, protection, I suppose. She runs into a lot of prejudice."

"I imagine she does," he said. After a moment, he added, "You might tell her that she would meet with less prejudice if she would make a greater effort to respect the property of others."

Carona flushed.

"Oh, dear. Are you missing something?"

"Nothing of importance," he assured her.

Later when she taxed Neeshka, the tiefling laughed.

"Hey, it's not like he has anything to worry about. All he has are some religious medals and a worn-out little prayer book which I didn't touch, I swear. The only reason I took that coin of his was because it was rolling around in his purse all lonely and pathetic. I felt sorry for it."

"You took his last coin? Really, Neeshka, that's low. I'm surprised he was so nice about it then." Neeshka grinned and twirled her tail. "Well, you've got a lot of nerve, stealing from someone who's gods-touched, I'll say that. I wouldn't dare."

"Oh, pooh, who cares? A mark's a mark, I always say. I stole from the poor box in Helm's temple all the time—well, until they threw me out of the orphanage. Nothing ever happened. Tymora's looking out for me."

"Good for you but I'd say it's pretty obvious that the gods are looking out for Casavir. I'd be more careful if I was you."

"I'm always careful." Carona gave her a frown that was only half pretense. "Oh, all right, all right. Here." She dug a gold coin out of her purse and pressed it into Carona's hand. "Give it back to him then if you're going to be that way about it." Then she muttered, "Spoilsport."

"Thanks."

Neeshka rolled her eyes.

"Wait." She opened her purse again and took out a copper. "Give him that as well so his poor little coin won't be so lonesome."

"You are not seriously proposing a frontal assault of the Eyegougers' stronghold?" Carona asked. Well, it wasn't really a question because that was clearly what the Katalmach had in mind.

"We can take them, lass," Khelgar said. "Aren't you itching for a fight?" Carona raised her eyebrows at Casavir. Her expression asked, Are you truly as mad as him? Beside her, Elanee's eyes were wide. The druid was unexpectedly handy in a fight but Carona knew that she loathed the constant bloodshed. And Carona suspected Elanee was unconvinced that the human farmers here had any more right to the area than the orc invaders.

"The entrance to the lair is narrow, for defense," Casavir said. "But that works in our favor, for they can only come at us two or three at a time. Our small numbers are more of an advantage than a disadvantage."

Carona didn't find this argument terribly persuasive and apparently neither did the tiefling.

"Yeah, that's fine," Neeshka said. "That's great. It's a wonderful plan. Until someone runs out the back way, calls for help from those hundreds of orcs we've been avoiding the last ten-day, and they all come pounding up that narrow trail behind us. Getting trapped on some skimpy ledge of rock might sound fun to you but it doesn't to me. Count me out."

It didn't sound much fun to Carona either.

"The back way?" she asked.

"Sure, they probably have two or three hidden exits. Don't orcs always do that? I thought this Logram fellow was supposed to be pretty bright for an orc. I mean, not even a rabbit would live in a hole with only one way in or out."

There followed a rather frustrating time of searching for tracks or signs of a second entrance. But Tymora smiled on them. The Eyegouger caverns were inhabited by bats that swooped out in a dark cloud every evening at dusk. Elanee was able to call one to her and use its senses to map her way through the complexity of the caves.

The back entrance was well hidden but Elanee's bat found it easily enough. To reach it, one had to clamber a short ways up a steep cliff and then wiggle through a cleft in its face. It was no doubt meant to be used as an emergency exit only because the entry was so awkward.

"It seems strange that this place is unguarded," Elanee said, passing on the report of her bat spy.

"Careless," Carona agreed, as she checked over her gear. Neeshka had already climbed to the opening and was busy dismantling the trap she'd found there. "From what you know of Logram, does that seem typical?" she asked Casavir.

"He can be arrogant and he considers the Greycloaks little threat," he said thoughtfully. "Still, I would have expected him to be wary of treachery from his own kind. We must assume there are hidden defenses deeper within. I do not think it wise for you two to go in alone." Carona felt a surge of irritation at the repetition of this protest.

"This is what I'm here for. Elanee's bat will keep an eye on things," she said. "If we get in trouble, feel free to storm your way through to rescue us. But I really hope Neeshka and I can slip in, find the emissary, and slip right out again." She held up her hand as Khelgar opened his mouth. "There'll be plenty of time for heroic skull-bashing later back at Old Owl Well if that's what you want to do," she told him. "Let's get Issani safe first, shall we? If we openly attack now, they might kill him before we can get to him."

Neeshka leaned out overhead and motioned to Carona that it was safe to come up. She scrambled up the rock wall and eased her way through the opening. Short as she was, Carona had to bend almost double in the dark tunnel ahead. She fumbled for the amulet around her neck, a gift from Moire. It consisted of a medallion in the shape of a cat's eye, suspended on a short chain. When activated, it let her see in complete darkness, much like the tiefling or the orcs. She spoke the word and then waited for her eyes to adjust to the shocking change. Suddenly the tunnel was almost as bright as day, but all the color had leached out of the rock, her clothes, even her hands. Neeshka looked more like a ghost than a living person.

Neeshka watched her impatiently but her tail was very still and had wrapped itself around her own knee. Carona had never seen her so nervous.

"I hope we're getting paid really, really well for this," the tiefling whispered. "I'm not sure there's enough gold in Neverwinter to make me happy right now. This place gives me the creeps."

"I know what you mean." But Carona admitted to herself that her heart was thumping more with anticipation than with fear. She hadn't wanted to come to Old Owl Well. She hadn't wanted to fight orcs. But now that she was here and committed in every sense of the word, the thought of stealing the emissary out from under Logram's very nose was exciting. She knew this attitude was foolhardy but she figured she wouldn't have become a thief in the first place if at some level she didn't enjoy being somewhere she wasn't supposed to be.

Unfortunately Elanee's bat had no way to communicate with them and so could not help with the scouting. Carona hunched her way through the tunnel with Neeshka behind her, and it gradually opened up so they could stand. The only noise she heard was the soft padding of their feet and her own breathing. When they stopped, the deep silence pressed down like a suffocating blanket but when they moved the sound of a displaced pebble or the scrape of a foot was even more nerve-wracking.

The tunnel widened into a cavern. There was sand and loose rock underfoot, in some places very deep. Debris from digging or widening the escape tunnel, Carona suspected. Neeshka checked diligently for traps.

Soon they saw traces of light from the cavern ahead and they redoubled their caution. They came upon a smaller cave that had been set up as a workroom of some sort. There was a tiny mage-light lamp on a makeshift desk in one corner and a large, heavy workbench was on the opposite wall. There was an open crate on the floor and a couple of locked boxes under the bench. While Carona kept watch, Neeshka carefully went through everything.

"It's strange," Neeshka breathed in Carona's ear. "There are three or four books written in Common and one written in some language I've never even seen before. Looks real old, too. Do you think it could be Orcish?"

"I'm not so sure orcs even have a written language," Carona said.

"Yeah? Well, whatever."

"What were the books about?" Neeshka shrugged, uninterested. Typical Neverwinter dock rat, Carona thought tolerantly—so accustomed to books being cheap and plentiful that they raised no sense of curiosity within her.

"I found some gold in the desk," Neeshka said and patted her pocket. "One of those chests was half full of new vellum. I've never seen so much unused parchment in one place in my life. Worth a lot of coin back in Neverwinter if we could haul it out of here," she added with a teasing smile.

Had they come across a secret enclave of orc scribes? Carona just shook her head and started to lead the way further down the dark corridor. Then she shook her head again and motioned for Neeshka to wait while she went back and took a look at the books herself. One was a history of some sort. One book was about the size of her hand, a personal journal written in a tiny scrawl that she could barely make out. Two were magical tomes that made her head swim when she tried to read them. And the last, so old that the cover was crumbling, was written in what appeared to be an elven script, but one different from anything Daeghun had ever shown her. After a moment's hesitation and wondering if her own prejudices were making her mistake trash for treasure, she slipped the book inside her tunic. It made an uncomfortable lump.

She followed Neeshka's lead. A movement overhead caught her eye and her heart leapt in her chest until she realized it was just a bat. Elanee's bat, she hoped. They continued to explore until at last they reached a place where the tunnel branched and one side formed a little room. Heavy iron bars had been set into the cavern walls to make a cage. There was a man lying on his stomach on top of a filthy blanket, but whether he was asleep, unconscious, or dead, Carona couldn't tell.

A massive lock secured the crude gate into the cage, but it didn't take long for Neeshka to pick it open. The gate was heavy. It took them both to move it and the creaking sound of the hinges and the scraping of the gate against the rough floor was loud enough to make them both cringe. It was also loud enough to wake the prisoner.

"Who is there?" he cried. He looked around wildly. Carona realized that he was human and couldn't see them in the darkness of the cave.

"Hush!" she said urgently. "Who are you?"

"Are you the guy from Wat…hey!" Carona elbowed Neeshka hard to shut her up. It occurred to her that any prisoner here would say anything, even claim to be the emissary if that would mean his escape. Rescuing the wrong man would be a disaster. Why no one had bothered to give her a physical description of Issani, she didn't know.

The prisoner was richly dressed. His hair was long and pulled away from his face. It was light in color, but under the effect of the amulet, she couldn't tell if his hair was blond or white. She couldn't guess his age from his face, but his features were patrician. Under better circumstances, he was no doubt a handsome man.

Clearly he had suffered torture. His hands were bloody and several fingers looked like they had been broken or dislocated. As he sat up to stare in the direction of their voices, Carona could see that he moved like a man in pain. Broken ribs, perhaps, but from the way he had been resting, she thought he had been whipped. She felt a pang of sympathy.

"Who are you?" he asked cautiously.

"We come from Neverwinter," she said. He relaxed.

"If that means you have been sent to release me, then I thank the gods. I am Issani." Carona sighed, reassured by his Waterdhavian accent. This was easier than she had thought it would be.

"Uh oh," Neeshka said. She had turned to look over her shoulder. Her tail jerked uneasily. "What's that smell?"