He leaned back, sure that his novices were leading the two exactly where they needed to go and their part in all of this would be done.
The Lurker removed a small stack of papers from a niche in the desk and began to study them closely. He rubbed at his eyes and moved a candle closer so that the papers were in the ruddy pool of light.
'These eyes of mine are weary,' he murmured finally and set the papers down.
The Lurker rested his head in his hands and did not hear the slight rustle behind him. A figure in black stepped out of the shadows along the far wall.
'Tired?' the black figure asked silkily.
The Lurker whipped around in his chair and squinted defensively at the voice.
'Who's there?' he asked.
The dark shape moved into the circle of candlelight. While still dressed in black, Ciredor had exchanged his tight fitting leathers for the loose silks of Calimport's elite. His vest had gold threads embroidered in strange patterns, their meaning known only to him. His outer robe billowed behind him like a storm cloud as he descended on the senior priest of Ibrandul.
'What are you doing here?' the Lurker inquired, sounding somewhat fearful.
'I am just here to keep my part of the bargain,' Ciredor answered easily.
Without any further preamble, he withdrew a sheaf of papers. The Lurker wiped his hand across his lips and shakily accepted the bundle of parchments. He reached for them as a drowning man would an offered hand. It was hard for the priest to hide the gleam in his eye and the Lurker was certain his eagerness was not lost on Ciredor.
After carefully paging through the stack twice, the Lurker looked up at him with barely concealed awe. There was a bit of a quaver in his voice when he spoke next to the necromancer.
'I-I don't know how you managed to find these pages,' the Lurker began.
He watched as Ciredor nodded benevolently in response, but he did not offer to explain where the velum sheets had come from.
'For the last few months,' the Lurker continued when he realized that Ciredor was going to remain taciturn, 'you have so diligently searched out these lost words of Ibrandul. If you hadn't come to us, who knows whose hands these pages might have fallen into. Even I was unaware of their existence.'
'I have long been a supplicant of the Lurker in Darkness,' Ciredor finally replied. 'It has been not only my duty, but that of my father and my father's father to spend our lives in search of these artifacts.'
'I am only the first in my family,' the priest said with a lowered head, 'to embrace the Lord of the Dry Depths.'
He was humbled in front of someone so dedicated to Ibrandul. The priest felt an icy finger under his chin tilt his face upward.
'I am glad,' Ciredor said with some emphasis, 'to have discovered a sect of Children of Ibrandul so devout to my god. Only in Waterdeep have I come close to finding followers a fraction as pious as yours.'
The Lurker sat a little straighter, bolstered by this sincere compliment. He did believe that his novices were most accomplished and that bit of pride gave him the ability to respond.
'It only serves to follow that we would be the most loyal,' the priest explained. 'After all, Calimshan is the home of Ibrandul. He rose from our desert.'
Not wanting to insult any other group of followers-and he realized that Ciredor must come from one of those-he hastily added, 'The other sects are also fervent in their devotion, but we live in the heart of the mystery.'
The Lurker watched Ciredor expectantly, looking for any sign that he might have insulted his benefactor. However, all the necromancer did was slowly smile.
'You are right,' Ciredor agreed, 'that our heart is within the Calim Desert.'
The Lurker was relieved that Ciredor was not offended, though he was puzzled at the mage's reference to the heart. The Lurker thought Ciredor might have said more correctly that their origin was in the desert, but he was not going to chance saying the wrong thing again or nit pick over the turn of a phrase. To further smooth things over, he recounted his meeting with Tazi and Steorf, knowing the outcome would please Ciredor.
'Those foreigners arrived just as you said they would,' he told Ciredor eagerly, and he saw the first spark of excitement appear in the mage's black eyes.
'Really?' Ciredor drawled.
'The two from Selgaunt and their Calishite companion arrived just a few hours ago,' the priest clarified, spurred on by Ciredor's interest.
'Were they like I described?' Ciredor asked carefully.
'As soon as the woman with the short black hair heard of the sacred writings, she dashed right over to the book.'
'Just as I told you she would,' Ciredor agreed kindly. 'What happened?'
'One of my young but very dedicated novices kept her from touching the lost writings,' the priest answered. 'That's when they truly revealed their colors.'
'How so?' Ciredor questioned.
'The woman's burly young companion attempted to attack the Child of Ibrandul with magical means. Of course,' the priest added, excited that his words were having a pleasing effect on his patron, 'that was to no avail.'
'Not in this sanctum,' Ciredor agreed. 'What was the outcome?'
'The beast had to resort to physical combat on an opponent much weaker than himself.' The Lurker shook his head in distaste. 'In fact, the man turned quite savage in the end, and his woman had to pull him away.'
'They haven't changed,' Ciredor chuckled, and the Lurker wasn't sure if the laugh was for his benefit or not.
'And the woman also let slip that she was carrying on her person several scrolls that she had stolen from you.'
Ciredor only nodded slowly at this revelation.
'That is the only thing that concerns me,' the priest added. 'I am not sure that we will be able to recover those.'
'Why not?' Ciredor asked, but the Lurker saw that he was not unduly distressed.
'Those two muzha-dahyarifs are on their way to a most fitting end. Several of the Children of Ibrandul, including the novice who was beaten by the young mage, are as we speak leading them into a trap deep within the tunnels of the Muzad,' the Lurker explained. 'There I am sure they will discover what it means to have betrayed the Skulking God.'
'I know they will,' Ciredor quietly agreed, 'and don't be too concerned about the scrolls they have. I might have made copies of some of the writings elsewhere. What of their Calishite companion?' he added and the Lurker thought Ciredor was almost anxious.
'She is quite safe, Lord,' the priest reassured him. 'We were able to separate her almost immediately from her foreign companions. She is in a chamber located just beyond our main hall.'
'Wonderful,' he replied.
'She has been very acquiescent since she was separated from her companions,' the Lurker noted, 'and she knows several of the Children of Ibrandul from her own youth.'
He himself had been amazed by that discovery.
'Why should that surprise you?' Ciredor keenly noticed.
'I'm astonished that a Calishite could be so easily deceived, I suppose,' the priest admitted. 'For all purposes, this young woman is every bit at home amongst us and yet she was traveling in their company.'
'Try to understand,' Ciredor explained easily, 'that those two from Selgaunt are very persuasive. Fannah had been traveling with me some time ago in Sembia as I searched for the lost words when we became separated. She fell into some minor danger and the Sembian woman, Thazienne, took advantage of the situation.'
'What happened?' the Lurker asked.
This was the most verbose his benefactor had ever been, and the priest was enthralled.
'Thazienne picked Fannah out of a crowd, an obvious foreigner and unfamiliar with the commercial ways of the people of Selgaunt, and made arrangements for several of her less than reputable friends to 'attack' Fannah so
