his head, lighting his hair and curling his skin! Pity Wulfgar when - "
"Rest easy," Deudermont remarked, coming up behind the wizard. "The pirate is taken and not a crewman lost."
"As it would have been," Robillard insisted, "with less chance. Their magical defenses were down, their sails exposed. I had - "
"Enough, my friend," Deudermont interrupted.
"That one, Wulfgar, is a fool," Robillard replied. "A barbarian indeed! A savage to his heart and soul, and with no better understanding of tactics and advantage than an orc might hold."
Deudermont, who had sailed with Wulfgar before and who knew well the dark elf who had trained this warrior, knew better. But he said nothing, just let the always-grumpy Robillard play out his frustration with a string of curses and protests.
In truth, Captain Deudermont was beginning to rethink the decision to allow Wulfgar to join Sea Sprite's crew, though he certainly believed he owed that much to the man, out of friendship and respect. Wulfgar's apparent redemption had struck well the heart of Captain Deudermont, for he had seen the man at his lowest point, on trial before the vicious magistrates of Luskan for attempting to assassinate Deudermont.
The captain hadn't believed the charge then - that was the only reason Wulfgar was still alive - though he had recognized that something terrible had happened to the noble warrior, that some unspeakable event had dropped Wulfgar to the bottom of the lowest gutter. Deudermont had been pleased indeed when Wulfgar had arrived at the dock in Waterdeep, asking to come aboard and join the crew, asking Deudermont to help him in retrieving the mighty warhammer that Bruenor Battlehammer had crafted for him.
Now it was clear to the captain, though, that the scars of Wulfgar's pain had not yet fully healed. His charge back there had been reckless and foolish and could have endangered the entire crew. That, Captain Deudermont could not tolerate. He would have to speak with Wulfgar, and sternly.
More than that, the captain decided then and there that he would make finding Sheila Kree and her elusive ship a priority, would get Wulfgar back Aegis-fang, and would put him back ashore in Waterdeep.
To the benefit of all.
Chapter 3 BELLS AND WHISTLES
reat gargoyles leered down from twenty feet; a gigantic stone statue of a humanoid lizard warrior - a golem of some sorts, perhaps, but more likely just a carving - guarded the door, which was set between its wide-spread legs. Just inside that dark opening, a myriad of magical lights danced and floated about, some throwing sparks in a threatening manner.
Le'lorinel was hardly impressed by any of it. The elf knew the schools of magic used by this one, studies that involved illusion and divination, and feared neither. No, E'kressa the Seer's guards and wards did not impress the seasoned warrior. They were more show than substance. Le'lorinel didn't even draw a sword and even removed a shining silver helmet when crossing through that darkened opening and into a circular corridor.
"E'kressa diknomin tue?" the elf asked, using the tongue of the gnomes. Le'lorinel paused at the base of a ladder, waiting for a response.
"E'kressa diknomin tue?" the elf asked again, louder and more insistently.
A response drifted through the air on unseen breezes.
"What adventures dark and fell, await the darker side of Le'lorinel?" came a high-pitched, but still gravelly voice, speaking in the common tongue. "When dark skin splashes blade with red, then shall insatiable hunger be fed? When Le'lorinel has noble drow dead, will he smile, his anger fled?"
Le'lorinel did smile then, at the display of divination, and at the obvious errors.
"May I - ?" the elf started to ask.
"Do come up," came a quick interruption, the tone and abrupt manner telling Le'lorinel that E'kressa wanted to make it clear that the question had been foreseen.
With a chuckle, Le'lorinel trotted up the stairs. At the top, the elf found a door of hanging blue beads, a soft glow coming from behind them. Pushing through brought Le'lorinel into E'kressa's main audience chamber, obviously, a place of many carpets and pillows for sitting, and with arcane runes and artifacts: a skull here, a gigantic bat wing there, a crystal ball set on a pedestal along the wall, a large mirror, its golden edges all of shaped and twisted design.
Never had Le'lorinel seen so many trite wizardly items all piled together in one place, and after years of working with Mahskevic the elf knew indeed that they were minor things, window dressing and nothing more -