grabbed his forehead with his hand, fingers splayed. 'He throws a feeblemind spell on you and burns out your brain cells.'
Anton put in, 'Ah, but at least you have Laeral, Khel-ben's prize student, hanging around. I hear she's most easy on the eyes.'
Gerald sniffed. 'You think she'll give an apprentice the time of day? No, she worships the ground Blackstaff levitates over.' He took a pull on his mug for effect and, realizing it was empty, signaled for another round.
'I bet he doesn't tell your parents on you,' said Jehan. 'And you don't have to live up to your family name. Just once I'd like to have old Maskar treat me like a rational, thinking being instead of his nephew's youngest whelp. Maskar thinks everyone else in this city is a lower form of life, especially his students.'
Gerald nodded. 'And rival mages are barely worth their notice. Khelben calls your master 'the Old Relic.''
Jehan sniffed in turn. 'And yours reminds me of a skunk, what with that white stripe in his beard. I've heard my master call him 'the Old Spider.''
The blond youth flashed a sly, toothy grin, his first of the evening. 'Everyone calls him that, and he likes it that way, I think. Blackstaff and the other big-name wizards revel in the illusion of their power and wear it like a fur-trimmed cloak. Threatening the help is part of the deal. One of the perks, I suppose.'
'It wouldn't be such a problem,' said Anton, 'if they were at least listening to new ideas.'
'Don't get me started on that,' said Jehan, getting starting on precisely that. The subject was a favorite of the young mage, particularly since it showed the shortcomings of the elder wizards. 'They're paranoid enough about their powers getting into the hands of inexperienced pups like us. New magic is beyond their aged brains, and it scares them.'
'New magic?' asked Gerald.
'You've heard about Maztica, right? The land across the Shining Sea?' said Jehan. Gerald nodded. 'They have a completely different flavor of magic out there, based on feathers and fangs. These Mazticans use it to move water through pipes, like a well-pump. Think about what such interior plumbing would do for Waterdeep. I tried to ask old Maskar about it and got a lecture about learning the basics first before getting involved in 'speculative' spell-casting. Speculative! There's another culture that can transform our world, and he's turning his back on it.'
'Aye, and you're seeing more wood-block printing around,' said Anton. 'But we're still writing spells out longhand.'
Gerald nodded. 'And weapons technology is at the same level it was when the elves abandoned Myth Drannor, as if we haven't improved anything in the past thousand years.'
Jehan said, 'You're talking about smoke powder, right?'
Anton shifted uneasily in his chair, but Gerald nodded readily. 'There are a number of things, but yes, smoke powder is Blackstaff s pet peeve.'
Jehan laughed. 'Peeve? I hear the Old Spider is flat-out paranoid about the stuff, blowing it up wherever he finds it, and a good chunk of the city along with it. The way I hear it, the powder comes from other planets, other planes.'
Anton harrumphed into his mug. 'I have to confess, I'm not comfortable talking about this. I hear smoke powder is dangerous.'
Jehan shook his head. Anton was so cautious sometimes, he thought. 'Don't worry. It's not like the Old Spider is listening to us, waiting for us to speak treason about smoke powder. I mean, what is it? A magical mixture that explodes on contact with fire. They're already making arquebuses down south to use that explosive force to fire sling bullets, and cannons that fire iron-banded stones.'
Anton tried to shrug nonchalantly. 'So it makes a big bang. Don't we have enough spells we can learn that create a big bang?'
Gerald leapt in, 'Yes, but those spells are only for wizards. Smoke powder, like printing, can bring that ability to the masses, eh?'
'Exactly,' said Jehan, warming to the subject as the most recent round of ale warmed his belly. 'But the Old Hounds in the city, Maskar the Mummy and that skunk-maned Spider among them, don't see it, won't see it until it's too late. Keeping us from knowing too much about the stuff won't keep others from learning. But no, they're caught in the 'Fireballs and Lightning Bolts' mind-set, and nothing can dissuade them.'
Anton muttered something about the beer running through him, and he staggered off. Jehan and Gerald barely noticed his disappearance.
Gerald said, 'So you don't think we mages would be replaced if there were smoke powder freely lying around?'
Jehan laughed. 'No more than we'd be replaced when more people learn how to read. You still need mages to make the stuff. And not to mention that wizards would still be needed to make smoke powder safer, and improve the weapons that use it. The big problem for most arquebuses is that they sometimes explode. A wizard can strengthen the barrel, as well as improve the accuracy and distance. It's a whole new world, but the Old Hounds with all the power don't realize it, and they're keeping us, the next generation, in the dark about it.'
By the time Anton returned, Gerald and Jehan had moved onto other ideas, like golem-driven boats and clockwork familiars, which the Old Guard were either ignoring or blatantly quashing. The three apprentices agreed that the problem was that since the old wizards controlled what knowledge was being passed on, they controlled the advance (or lack of advance) of spellcasting.
Gerald excused himself at this point, saying he had to get back to Blackstaff Tower or the Old Spider would send hell hounds out after him. Anton bought one last round, and the conversation switched to other matters, such as the purported easiness of the Fibinochi sisters. Then Anton had to leave as well, since his master mage was cooking up something noxious at dawn and expected the kettles to be spotless.
Jehan swirled the last of his ale in his mug, thinking about how entrenched the old wizards had gotten. And the problem was, since they were all older than the Cold Spine Mountains, they kept anyone else from learning new things. Supposedly, they were fonts of information, but in reality they stood in the way of progress. Jehan resolved that when he attained the ancient and august title of wizard, he would never stand in the way of new ideas like Granduncle Maskar, Khelben, and the rest of the Old Hounds. In the meantime, he would have to sweep the floors, learn what he could, and keep his eyes out for new ideas. After all, there was nothing that kept him from a little independent study.
A merchant intercepted Jehan as the young man was making for the door. 'Excuse me?' the merchant said in an odd accent, touching Jehan softly on the shoulder. 'Do I understand you are a wizard?'
Jehan blinked back the mild, ale-induced fog around him and looked at the merchant. He couldn't place the accent, and the cut of the man's clothing was strange-the tunic a touch too long to be fashionable, and the seams stitched across the back instead of along the shoulders. 'I am a wizard's student,' Jehan said. 'An apprentice.'
'But you know magic?' pressed the man. His inflection rose at the end of every phase, making each sentence sound like a question.
'Some,' said Jehan. 'A few small spells. If you need magical aid, there are a number of name-level wizards in Waterdeep who can help…'
Tm sorry,' said the merchant, 'but I overheard you talking and thought you were knowledgeable? You see, I have a small problem that requires an extremely discreet touch? And I'm not comfortable talking to the older mages in this city?' — here he dropped his voice to a whisper-'about smoke powder.'
That last was a statement, not a question. Jehan raised his eyebrows and looked at the strange little man, then nodded for him to follow.
Once on the street, Jehan said, 'What about the… material you mentioned?'
'I understand that it is not… proper to have this material in this city?' He said, flexing his voice on the last word.
'It is illegal,' said Jehan. 'Extremely illegal. And there are a few mages in town who would destroy any of this material they find. And anyone standing near it.'
A pained look crossed the merchant's face. 'I was afraid of that. You see, I have come into possession of some of this material without realizing it was illegal? And I want to move it out of the city as quickly as possible?'
'A sound idea,' nodded Jehan, trying to sound as sage and puissant as he could.
