Dagger of Souls
*** Chapter 2 ***
Keltar stood and waited in a line at the massive gatehouse to gain entrance to the Waterdhavian Palace grounds. The guards wore immaculate chain mail armor covered by the black and gold tabards standard of the Waterdeep guard. Though these guards had a purple slash sewn diagonally through the uniform that denoted they were an elite group assigned to the defense of the city palace. He was a messenger to one of the masked Lords of Waterdeep, and performed various tasks and duties for them. The messenger was dressed in tightly fitted black leather armor with round metal studs protruding at regular intervals on the piece covering his lean torso. He tapped the writ in his hand signed by one of those lords impatiently as he waited for his turn to enter the well guarded gate. He scratched at the stubble on his square jaw as he gazed up in wonder at the gigantic stone structure that sat at the base of Mount Waterdeep, occupied by Lord Piergeron, the only unmasked Lord and head of the city's council. It was an amazing sight to behold up close. The towering white marble walls held large ramparts with banners of many colors, but most were of black and gold, emblazoned with the crest of Waterdeep in the center. Keltar was amazed and grateful at the important position he held as a messenger to one of these powerful leaders. People such as him, who grew up in the streets of the city's downtrodden districts as an orphan, rarely attained such a respected position. Now he served one of the most important men in the greatest city, the City of Splendors, the crown jewel of the Western Heartlands, and probably the most well known on the continent of Faerun. He was the most junior messenger, and one of nearly two dozen, but it was no less prestigious in a city of over a million inhabitants.
He was brought out of his wandering thoughts, as the guardsman spoke to him in a husky voice, "State your business." Keltar gave him a nod and spoke up, "I have been summoned to speak with one of the masked lords." He handed him the official writ he had been given. The guard examined the document and studied him carefully from head to toe. Keltar was used to the abnormal scrutiny, which he endured for most of his years since he was old enough to walk the streets of city. His shoulder length, tasseled hair was unkempt and his face rugged and unshaven. The black leather breeches and matching tunic, as well as the masterfully crafted sword he kept on his belt gave the impression of an unsavory character. He didn't mind since this look is what enabled him to obtain information from the more seedy sections of the vast city, and made him valuable to the city leaders, but it gave the guards pause whenever he had to enter the grounds on the rare occasion he was asked to visit.
The guard unable to find anything wrong with the paperwork reluctantly gave the signal to allow passage to the other guards standing in front of the massive gold-framed stone double doors that lead into the expansive entrance hall. "I will have to take all of your weapons until you are ready to leave."
The messenger untied the leather strings that held the scabbard housing his sword and handed the weapon over to the guard along with two silver daggers that he had concealed within the folds of his armor. He sauntered up the massive entrance steps that were wide enough to fit nearly a dozen carriages abreast. The steps narrowed to the large alcove holding the tall stone double doors that gave entrance to the palace main hall. Once he showed his official writ, the six guards that were blocking the doorway split up and moved to the sides, keeping their gleaming silver spears at the ready while allowing the leather clad man to enter the building.
He pulled the large gold handle of the large stone door and it slid open with surprising ease. He marveled at the master craftsmanship that constructed such a design of elegance, strength and functionality. The entrance hall was equally impressive, with immaculate white marble floors covered with diamond patterns of interweaving gold and black lines that spanned the enormous breadth and width of the room. The floors were polished to the extent that the surface reflected everything around it like a still mountain lake. Towering white pillars rose up to the domed ceiling many stories overhead. The thick columns were as wide in diameter as a tall human was long. Each one of them held intricate fresco carvings depicting famous figures of prominence in the history of the grand city in such life-like detail that it almost appeared that they were trapped in the marble.
The long hall ended with two passages behind a large fountain made with a brass tree design that jettisoned the sparkling blue water back outward in an arc, making it look like numerous handles on a tea cup. Behind the fountain was a large gold and silver standing statue of the Open Lord of Waterdeep. As the head of the council the palace was his to occupy as his own personal residence. He was the only known Lord of Waterdeep. The other Lord's had their identity hidden behind an enchanted mask that not only hid their faces, but disguised their voices as well. This extraordinary precaution kept the council safe from those wishing to gain power through treachery, or from opposing rulers trying to destroy the leadership of the influential city. By far the most popular and fascinating discussions in the many scores of establishments in town were speculation on the identities of these rulers.
The palace steward and two assistants approached Keltar before he passed the first row of columns. The stocky man was dressed in a loose, baggy doublet patterned with thick, black and purple vertical lines. His legs were adorned with skin tight stockings of pearl white. The elegant outfit had ruffled white fringes along the neck and wrists, giving him a pompous flair. He straightened the feathered cap on his curly hair as he looked with obvious disdain at the unrefined clothing the messenger wore. With a haughty sigh, he asked with mild irritation, "What is thy name?"
The man in black leather scowled in return as he answered, "The name is Keltar and I am here at the request of one of the lord's."
The steward unfurled a sheet of parchment wrapped around two elaborate brass rollers and read through the ink covered document. "Yes, yes, very well." He turned to one of the young assistants, "Jerrel take this… ahem... man, to the Cheveral Antechamber straight away." The young lad gave a small curtsy and walked up to Keltar. "Please sir, follow me." The boy was dressed in black and purple striped garb similar to the steward's, though his sleeveless jerkin was much more tight-fitting and did not contain any of the frills, showing his lesser station. The boy led him past the fountain and up several spiral staircases and down a large hallway to a spacious side chamber. The large dark marble hearth in the middle of the left wall was ablaze with a warming fire that dispelled the cold, damp winter air. Several lamps surrounded the room, backed by polished reflectors to amplify the light making it nearly as bright as day inside. "Please wait here while I summon the lord and inform him of your arrival. Help yourself to any of the refreshments." A large oval coffee table made of dark marble on top black iron casts framed in gold filigree sat near the hearth. A silver tray with candied truffles, crackers and wedges of cheese sat atop the table. Several expensive bottles of elven wine, honey mead, and gin sat next to a few empty crystal goblets. Keltar poured some of the honeyed mead in one of the goblets and sipped it as he sat down to wait for his liege to arrive. The cherry oak bench surrounding the table was covered with a plush, velvet padding stuffed with goose feathers and down and was more comfortable than the bed Keltar grew up sleeping on. The other side of the large room held an oval table matching the design of the coffee table, though it was big enough to be surrounded comfortably by a dozen large, plush, high backed cherry wood chairs. It was most likely used for meetings with a larger group of people. Walking down the hall and seeing the other rooms, despite his several visits, the messenger was still amazed that this spacious room was one of the smaller antechambers of the hundreds in the gigantic palace.
Before long a tall man in a finely woven black and silver outfit arrived, flanked by two palace guards and a wispy scribe in light purple robes holding a leather satchel. The tall man's head was covered with a closed helm attached to a metallic shoulder guard. Keltar knew the helm to be the arcane mask that kept the lord's identity hidden. He rose to his feet and bowed respectfully, "My Lord, it is an honor to speak with you again." The tall man held up his gloved hand, his voice came through with an odd harmonic tone that sounded like three voices in different octaves. It was unnerving at first, but it sounded oddly melodic like an estranged voice from the spirit world. "Please Keltar, have a seat."
The messenger returned to the bench and the city leader joined him on the adjacent couch. The lord watched the messenger through the crisscrossed metal over a black void where his face would be. With no eyes to look at it always caused the messenger pause when listening to the city leader. "I hope you are well. You have done such a fine job infiltrating the thieves' guild and exposing the plot to murder Sir Freland of the Dock Ward magistrate that I have decided to send you on another important mission. We have received reports of orc attacks on the small village of Stalford to the northeast. It is odd that such incursions have occurred so close to our city, and in the middle of winter. We also have reports that they have taken both men and women hostages, which again is rare for the humanoids. The ranks of our soldiers are thin, and with winter along we can only spare a few troops to send for what the other lords believe to be an isolated incident. We would like you to defend the town and find out why the orcs are attacking this small village. You may hire some more talented individuals to aid in this quest. I will supply a wagon with provisions and supplies in addition to the soldiers, and three hundred gold coins for you and those you hire upon completion of the investigation. There shall be a bonus if you can rescue any of the captives and return them home safely."
Keltar nodded as he calmly took another sip of mead, "Yes, it does seem out of the ordinary. But I've also heard that those green heathens can be quite unpredictable. I shall be honored to uncover the truth behind this and help the villagers."
"I knew I could count on your support. Go to the Halls of Justice and speak to Sir Bromler, and he shall provide a knight of Tyr to aid you and command the soldiers. The others you wish to aid in the investigation are at your discretion. I expect a detailed report of your findings within a ten-day. I have taken the liberty of drawing up the authorization documents and writs that you will need." He motioned a gloved finger toward the thin, elderly gentleman next to him.
The scrawny man scratched the slim bit of grey hair bordering his bald head and opened the leather satchel. "Yes, yes. I have all the documents here." He hastily removed the parchments and handed them to Keltar. "You are to pick up the driver, wagon, supplies, and soldiers at the Northgate guard house. They will be ready by sunrise tomorrow."
The masked lord stood up and clasped his gloved hands behind his back. "I have other business to attend to, safe journey and may Tymora's blessing of luck be upon you. Once again I thank your for your service to our beloved city."
"And to you, your lordship," the messenger responded solemnly, before he gulped down the last bit of his drink, gathered up the official papers and headed out of the palace.