Beckla giggled, slurping from her own cup. 'Actually, there isn't that much to tell. It isn't all that easy to make a living as a wizard these days. And I've taken some jobs I'm not proud of to make ends meet.' She sighed deeply, leaning back on the grubby cushions. 'I have dreams, of course. Someday I want to have my own tower, and a personal laboratory so I can perform experiments, and devise amazing new spells that no one has ever seen before. I'd be one of the most famous wizards in all of Faerun.' She shook her head ruefully. 'But a tower and a laboratory cost gold-lots of it. And, unfortunately, that's one thing I haven't figured out how to conjure yet.'
The wizard sloshed more firebrandy into their cups as she went on. 'A year ago, I took a job working for a moneylender in the South Ward of Water-deep. His name was Vermik. He was vile-tongued and foul-tempered, but he paid well, so I put up with him. Vermik came up with a clever scheme. He had me ensorcell all the coins that passed through his shop to seem slightly heavier than they really were. That way he could shave gold dust from them, and no scale would reveal the trick. Though he took only a little from each coin, a great many went through his business every day, and he was making a killing. Until…' Her words trailed oft
'Until what?' Artek asked.
Beckla swallowed hard. 'Until I transmogrified him into a green slime.'
Artek choked on his firebrandy. 'You what?'
'It was an accident,' the wizard huffed defensively. 'I didn't mean for the spell to go awry. He had a bad headache, and I was trying to help.'
'Like you were trying to help me when you thought my sword was a snake?' Artek replied smartly.
She shot him an annoyed look but otherwise ignored the offending comment. 'Anyway, I couldn't figure out how to change Vermik back. Personally, I think it simply brought his physical appearance in accord with the nature of his soul. Needless to say, his henchmen didn't appreciate the finer points of irony. In revenge, they came after my head. Because Fm rather partial to it myself, I decided it would be a good idea to look for a hiding place. I planned to lurk for a while in the sewers beneath Waterdeep. Then I stumbled on a way into Undermountain, and I figured there couldn't be a better hiding place.' She held her arms out in a final gesture. 'And here I am. I can't say that I like living in this pit. But at least I am living.'
'A year is a long time,' Artek noted. 'I imagine Vermik has given up the chase by now. You could probably return to the surface.'
'I would if I could,' the wizard replied mournfully. 'What I wouldn't give to breathe real air again-not this wet, moldy stuff that passes for air down here. I've heard there's a well a few levels up that leads to a tavern, but I've never been able to find the way there. Of course, the nobles have their own entrances into this hole, but they're well hidden. Besides, they only open if your blood is bluer than sapphires. Then there are the sewers. According to the rumors, the city's sewers lead all the way down here. Maybe they do, but once I spent five days slogging through sludge, only to end up right back where I started.'
She let out a forlorn sigh. 'But that's the problem with Undermountain. It's a whole lot easier to get in than it is to get out, as you're bound to discover yourself.'
Artek reached into his pocket, fidgeting with the small gold box Melthis had given him.
'I suppose now it's my turn to tell you what I'm doing here,' he said jovially.
Dimly, he noticed that his words were rather slurred.
His tongue seemed oddly thick. He took a deep swig of his firebrandy, hoping that would improve things, then began his story. By the time he finished, Beckla gripped her cup, staring at him in astonishment.
'You were locked in the Pit?' she said incredulously. After a second she burst into a fit of wild laughter. That must have been terrible!'
'It was absolutely awful,' Artek agreed, snorting with mirth. He tried to bring his cup to his lips, but his hand wouldn't seem to behave properly. 'They served us gruel with live maggots. And that was on good days!'
Beckla let out a howl of glee. She tried to refill Artek's cup from the purple bottle but missed altogether, spilling dwarven firebrandy on the floor. The volatile liquid quickly evaporated.
'So how are you supposed to find this missing nobleman anyway?' Beckla managed to gasp.
'With this.' Artek pulled out the heart jewel and tossed it to the wizard. She fumbled with the glowing stone and finally managed to clutch it. 'But he could be almost anywhere in this labyrinth. Even with the jewel, it could take weeks to find him.' He thrust out his arm, pointing to the magical tattoo, grinning broadly. 'And if I don't get back out in two days, this thing will kill me!'
This statement sent them both into breathless paroxysms of laughter.
'At least I have this,' Artek choked through his mirth. He showed her the golden box. 'When I find the nobleman, all I have to do is open this and a magical gate will appear, leading back to the surface.'
Beckla gazed at the box with wide eyes. 'Oooh. That's very nice!' She looked from side to side, then giggled mischievously. 'Listen, I have a secret to tell you.'
Artek leaned dizzily closer. 'What is it?'
She bit her lip, then smiled crookedly, speaking in an exaggerated whisper. 'I know where he is. Your lost lord. He's not far. I could take you right to him.'
Artek sat up straight. Instantly the giddiness drained from him. That was the advantage of dwarven firebrandy, and the reason it was such a rare and expensive commodity. Its highly intoxicating effects ceased the moment one wished them to. He stared at her, his black eyes deadly serious.
'You know where Lord Corin Silvertor is?'
The wizard's face quickly grew solemn as she too willed away the effects of the firebrandy.
'I do.'
Artek bore into her with his black eyes. He could see her pulse fluttering in the hollow of her throat, but she did not look away. Thief's instinct warned him that she was not telling him everything. But she was not lying. Of that he was certain. She did indeed know where to find the lost lord.
Take me to him,' he said intently.
Take me with you,' she replied in an even voice.
For a silent moment the two gazed at each other. Then a reluctant smile spread across Artek's face; this time, it was not from the firebrandy.
It looks like we have a deal, wizard.'
Beckla beamed brightly in reply. She stood, gripping her wizard's staff. 'All right, thief,' she said crisply. 'Let's go rescue us a nobleman.'
Outcasts
Artek and Beckla came to a halt before a high basalt archway shaped like a gaping mouth. Whether the maw was open in laughter or a scream was impossible to tell. Green mold clung to the stony lips, and black water dripped from jagged teeth. Distant sounds drifted through the archway: grunts, snarls, and high-pitched howls. They were almost like the noises of animals. Almost, but not quite. Beyond the mouth lay darkness.
'This archway marks the border of the territory of the Outcasts/ Beckla whispered. A faint blue radiance bathed her face, emanating from the wisp of magelight hovering on the end of her staff.
'The Outcasts?' Artek asked quietly. The oppressive silence seemed a living thing. It did not like the intrusion of their words. 'Who are they?'
Beckla shook her head grimly. 'What are they might be a more appropriate question.'
Artek gazed at her in puzzlement. Quietly, the wizard explained her cryptic words.
'I think they were people once,' she began. 'But they were shunned by the world above and driven down beneath the city. I suppose it was because they were different. They were the city's malformed, its ill, its mad.' She shook her head ruefully. 'I don't know why people are so terrified of those who aren't exactly the same as everyone else. But they are. They fear difference, and hate it. I imagine that was what drove the Outcasts down. It wasn't their fault they were different, but it still made them pariahs. I think that over the years, one by one, the unwanted of Waterdeep retreated down into the sewers beneath the city, and many eventually found their way into the halls of Undermountain.'
Beckla gazed thoughtfully into the darkness with her deep brown eyes. 'There's a whole world down here beneath the city,' she murmured. 'One that those who walk the daylit streets above have no idea even exists.'
