'That's hardly fair to you,' Shar objected, and was rewarded with light laughter.
'Child, I don't need to sleep anymore… remember?'
'True enough,' Sharantyr conceded. 'Well, then, let's have our tongue-wag now, and stow it all when the food's ready.'
'Aye, I've noticed that works with these two,' Sylune agreed. 'Speak.'
'The question,' Sharantyr said promptly, looking to her companions for confirmation, 'is whether we're better off out here in the wilds or back home in Shadowdale, now that the Malaugrym have slain Old Elminster.'
'It's safer for us back in the dale, surely,' Itharr told the food he was preparing.
'Yes, but if we return there, we'll bring danger to Shadowdale at the hands of any Malaugrym who show up to attack us,' Belkram put in from where he was seeing to the horses.
'Well, then, what about going to another defensible place?' Sharantyr replied. 'One we don't care about, but which shelters us from brigands, hungry beasts, and other wandering perils-including marauding avatars, I suppose.'
'Umm… got any such place in mind?' Itharr asked, looking up.
Shar shrugged. 'My experience of these lands is limited,' she reminded them. 'I'm merely suggesting a strategy.'
'What I'd like to know more about is our foes,' Belkram grunted, checking the hooves of a horse who saw no reason for staying in a stony pen when there was a lovely grassy hill out there under the setting sun, and was firmly telling the nearest human its views. 'Sylune?'
'The Malaugrym-a race of shapeshifters descended from the sorcerer Malaug, who have traditionally kidnapped women of Faerun and taken them as mates- dwell in a vast, ever-changing Castle of Shadows on the demiplane of Shadow,' the disembodied voice told them. 'Some of them are powerful mages, but none dare to walk Faerun openly because of Elminster, whom they call the Great Foe.'
'Because he once foiled one of their kidnappings or slayings?' Itharr asked.
'Precisely. Centuries ago, they stole spells and enchanted items from all over Faerun-competing with each other, I've been told-and quite often killed wizards so as to have a free hand in plundering their magic. When they tried to do the same to Elminster, he slew one of them and warned the others present to stay out of our world, but that just made them determined to eliminate him. It's been a running battle between the Malaugrym and the Chosen down the long years since, especially a year back when spellfire appeared in the Realms, in the hands of Shandril Shessair. Elminster and the Simbul between them kept her alive and out of Malaugrym hands, more than anyone else.'
Sharantyr nodded slowly. 'I know, now, why the Knights decided to let Narm and Shandril go unescorted, but for Torm and Rathan riding after them.'
'Yes,' Sylune said. 'Elminster didn't want any of you slain by the Malaugrym because you got in their way. The Shadowmasters, as they call their eldest and most powerful, think themselves superior to all folk of Faerun. We're cattle, to be slaughtered or stolen from at whim.'
'Charming,' Shar commented, lifting her lips in a sneer. 'Remind me, dahlings, to slaughter the cattle out of hand tonight…'
'Now, now,' Belkram said, 'don't give them any ideas. They may well be listening to us now.'
'They probably are,' Sylune confirmed calmly.
'What puzzles me,' Itharr said, 'is why they haven't taken to ruling the Realms long ago. How many of them are there, that a few diligent archmages can stop them? And what else do we know of their powers? What can slay them?'
'We don't know how many of them exist,' Sylune replied. 'As you can appreciate, it's difficult to do any sort of body count on secretive shapeshifters who're engaged in intrigues against each other as well as battles with folk of the Realms… except for, of course, a literal body count.'
'Hoo-hah,' Belkram agreed. 'So what's Elminster's best guess?'
'He thought there were about seventy of any consequence,' Sylune answered, chuckling at the calmly pressed question, 'but that's before the Simbul had her little disagreement with them back at Irythkeep.'
'Killing them,' Itharr said. 'Get back to killing them.'
'Well, they're physically very strong-hardy is perhaps a better word; they'd have to be, to change shape so often-and so fare well in falls and the like, though it seems Malaugrym who've taken another shape can be slain by whatever would usually be fatal to the shape they're using. Cut off the head of a Malaugrym horse'- one of the horses lifted its head to give her a hard stare, and Sylune darted over to mindtouch and be sure it was a horse and not something more, before proceeding- 'and you'll slay the Malaugrym, unless it's moved its vital functions somewhere else by starting to shift into another shape. Apparently they're suspicious enough of each other to shift body shape all the time, and go about their castle in forms that have several heads, tentacles all over the place, and so on.'
'Definitely charming,' Itharr said. 'Go on.'
'They like to take human shape but tend to put their vital functions in unusual body areas, so stabbing one in the eye might not blind it, and there may be no brain behind the eye to harm. Malaugrym who have magic can, of course, hurl spells if need be, in any body shape, and can cast protections on themselves before venturing out, just as human wizards do. They're also, as far as we've been able to learn, immune to all poisons fatal to men.'
'So what is poisonous to a Malaugrym, I wonder?' Belkram asked softly. 'There must be something.'
'There is,' Sylune confirmed. 'The touch of silver in their blood-so on a blade, for instance-is corrosive to all of their tissues it reaches.'
'It would have been useful,' Itharr said quietly, 'to have known this a little earlier.'
'My apologies,' Sylune said. 'You are right, and right to be angry. We-Elminster, of course-didn't want you to alert the Malaugrym to a possible deception when we rode out, by demonstrating that you knew all about them. He's… he can be ruthless too, in his own way.'
'We know that,' Sharantyr said with feeling. 'Believe me, we know that.' The two Harpers laughed easily.
'Ah, Shar, 'twas a grand adventure that befell us in the High Dale!'
'You had each other,' Sharantyr pointed out. 'I was paired with Elminster.'
'There're ladies across Faerun who'd swoon for a chance to be where you were,' Belkram reminded her.
'Right, you can call some of them in next time… but enough,' Shar said briskly. 'We'll trade salacious stories another time. Correct me, please, if I err in the following admittedly brief analysis. We have a handful of half-spent magic items and Sylune's wisdom and watchfulness to use against an unknown number of powerful shapeshifting wizards who come from another plane… and presumably can flee back there, out of our reach, whenever they desire.'
'No, I think you've said it pretty well,' Belkram agreed. 'Despite our cause being heroic and our hearts pure, we've been very lucky to survive thus far. Sooner or later, if they bother with us, we'll be caught and overwhelmed… as we almost were before the Simbul showed up.'
'As we were, I must remind everyone, by nothing more than hobgoblins,' Itharr put in soberly. Then he laughed, a sudden light dancing in his eyes. 'Why not take the battle to this mysterious castle hideaway of the Malaugrym? If we're dead anyway, what's to be lost? Why not take some of them with us?'
'Spoken like a true Harper,' Belkram agreed.
'Spoken like a true idiot,' Sharantyr retorted.
'There is often a great similarity, yes,' Sylune said diplomatically, and they all chuckled. After a moment of silence, an owl hooted somewhere off in the woods, and Itharr asked, 'Well?'
'Well, what?'
'Who's for attacking this castle on the morrow?''
'Are you crazy?'
'Why don't you sleep on it until morning, all of you?' Sylune suggested. 'We can talk again then, when there isn't food spoiling.'
'Itharr!'
'Sorry!' Itharr promptly burned his fingers at the fire, nearly dropped most of the food into the flames, and gave vent to almost as many colorful suggestions as were offered to him.
