'Magic goes wild across the lands,' Elminster said sternly, 'and I would restore as much peace and order as I can. 'Tis bad enough for the common folk, what ye've wrought, with hordes and brigands and avatars on the loose, earthquakes and eruptions and typhoons and all. For magic to be stable again, we must needs have a Goddess of Magic. Must I point such an obvious thing out to ye? I sought to take her to my Safehold, to sit and think… and learn. Rare for a god, I know, but long overdu-'
'Such temerity!' Ao thundered.
'Is the way of mankind,' Elminster replied gently, spreading his hands. 'Have ye not seen this?'
Ao sighed, and then chuckled. 'Enough. So you meant well. So have many tyrants-and gods-before working their worst.'
He raised a hand to point at Elminster and said in a voice of doom, 'Midnight I am returning to Faerun. She will forget what you gave to her, for a time. You I charge never to speak of this, or what she will become, until the Testing is done. And to keep you busy, oh most energetic of mages, I send you to deal with-this!'
And the world changed again. Ao, Midnight, and the Flame Void were gone, and Elminster found himself falling through the night sky of Faerun, somewhere east of the Sea of Fallen Stars, where a wall of mountains rose around vast plateaus, and… Thay!
'Thay?' Elminster said in disgust. 'The Land of Mad Mages? If Ao's sent me here, it must be to deal with some idiot mage who's trying to make himself a god, or set up some particularly nasty doom for all of us under cover of all these Troubles. Ah, blast all gods and their Overgods, too!'
And then something rose up through the clouds and stretched out shadowy arms to claim him.
Elminster saw how many miles its arms spanned, and swallowed. As he felt for his least powerful means of flight, he said through his teeth, 'Allfather Ao, if I live through this little affray, ye and I will be having words!'
And then the shadowy figure howled, and from its mouth leapt ravening magics to claim him. Ah. Of course. Two spells at once, to his one. Just another little job for Elminster.
The Old Mage snarled and selected the best spells he could think of, under the circumstances. And then the shadowy hands closed in around him.
The Castle of Shadows, Kythorn 18
Another three Malaugrym stood waiting impatiently, striking dramatic poses, hefting their forearms, and patting at where their weapons rode, as Milhvar delivered his little speech.
'The Shadowmaster High had great hopes for this project. Try not to let him down, but above all else we want you back safely. If anything goes awry-anything-touch your belt buckles and will yourselves back to us. Even if the foe is within your reach, or you're just a blow away from a victorious finish, break off rather than be taken or slain. There will be other forays, other chances.'
The three kin nodded curtly and went on with their restless posturings. Milhvar smiled bleakly. If nothing else, testing this cloak of spells would temper some of the untried blades among the blood of Malaug, and break off others before they wasted much more of the time and attention of their betters.
Out of this lot? They were all so arrogant, they just might make it. Or considering the way they swaggered through things, they might all perish at the hand of some half-asleep mortal guard with a rusty halberd. Taernil was a lean, dangerous type, and knew it. If he lived, if he stayed Huerbara's partner, they could be trouble together… or the best pair of Shadowmasters to rise in a long time.
Balatar was simply a bad, wild one, who loved cruelty and killing too much and taking orders too little. He was the only one, so far, who'd openly sneered when Milhvar invoked the memory of Dhalgrave. Hmmph. To the waiting grave with him!
Jarthree was a cold, controlled one. She always looked through you as if she knew just what you were about, and had already planned your doom, but it was all manner and nothing behind it. Yet.
Keeping his face bland and his voice calm, Milhvar instructed them to willingly draw at least a drop of their own blood with some sharp part of the shape they wore, and signaled the Shadowmaster mages to weave the cloaks.
The lengthy chanting and gesturing began. Milhvar watched the three carefully, wondering who'd perish-or prevail-on this foray. They were off to Blackstaff Tower this time, a far stiffer challenge than the first three had faced. The cloak of spells hadn't helped a whit against simple guards and servants who happened to have luck-the luck of a little silver weapon-on their side. This time, it'd be more magic against magic.
The cloak of interwoven spells was more complex than it needed to be, and far from stable. But then, no Malaugrym had ever worn invulnerable armor into battle, and these three arrogant younglings had no right to be the first.
The shimmering and dark singing of the completed cloaks mounted into the air, and Milhvar was pleased to see that at least Taernil had the wits to look momentarily impressed.
Folding his arms, Milhvar of the Malaugrym stepped forward and cast the 'secret spell' thrice, linking each cloak to its wearer through the shed blood.
'You are ready,' he said calmly. 'Stand together, so my next spell can take you all as one.'
'Take us where, exactly?' Taernil snapped, trying to assert mastery of the situation.
'To a gate that links Blackstaff Tower with Evermeet, most likely,' Milhvar replied gravely, 'though there is some small chance that you'll be drawn to one of the other gates-we know of at least three-that open into Blackstaff Tower from other places in Faerun and elsewhere. Try not to get lost.'
'Don't patronize us, old one!' Jarthree snapped.
'Oh, you'd be in far worse straits, were I ever to do that,' Milhvar said softly, and was rewarded by seeing Balatar blanch and Jarthree looking just a little unsure of what insult she should hurl back at him.
While she was still sorting through those she had ready, he brought his hands together with a smile, whispered the word that launched the gate-link spell, and said benevolently. 'Go now. Bring glory to the Malaugrym.'
Daggerdale, Kythorn 19
'I hope the horses'll fare all right,' Itharr said anxiously, watching them trot purposefully away into the woods.
'They'll be fine,' Sylune assured him. 'One of my woodland friends is watching over them.'
'Don't worry about them,' Belkram said, shouldering the two largest saddlebags, the ones holding the food. 'Spare some worry for us. We're the ones undertaking a madwoman's mission into the very fortress of our foes. It'd be crazy if these villains dwelt in Faerun, and didn't have mighty magic and the power to change shapes at will. As it is, it's sheer carve-our-tombstones insanity time!'
Sharantyr sighed. 'Was he always this cheerful?' she asked Itharr. 'Before he fell on his head, I mean.'
Itharr blinked. 'The first time, or the second?'
'Bah!' Belkram said. 'Dost thou respect my trenchant view of the whelming you've undertaken? Nay! Well, then. Ready? Away!'
'That's more what he was famous for, back at Twilight Hall,' Itharr said. 'The bold rush into oblivion, I think they called it, in tactics lectures.'
Sharantyr looked at him, wrinkling her brow. 'You had lectures at Twilight Hall?'
'Just to separate the feasts,' Belkram called back to her. 'And the org-'
'Ahem!' Itharr called loudly. 'Hey, there! Brave companion-hoy! Come back here! The lady with the blade is here, remember?'
' 'Twould be best, I think,' Sylune said quietly from the handsome ranger's breast pocket, 'if you calmed down, Belk, and did just that.'
Belkram looked down. 'Thank you,' he said quietly. 'For the advice?'
'No, for calling me 'Belk' instead of 'Harper boy' or the like. It's… good to hear.'
'My apologies, Belkram,' the stone said. 'Chide me as I chide thee, if I seem too high and mighty. It was the way of things in speech, when I was young. Elders spoke down, and others looked up.' Her voice became dry. 'It seems the world has changed.'
'As always, lady,' he muttered as they rejoined Itharr and Sharantyr. The three stood looking at each other, bent under the weight of their saddlebags, and then down at the softly singing blade in the lady ranger's hand.
'Ready?' she asked softly.
