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masterghandalfThis is a repost from Das_sporking2. Previous installments of this sporking may be found here.
Warning: This chapter contains a lot of death and violence.
MG: Well, everyone, it’s time to continue our journey through Ed Greenwood’s Shadows of Doom! Last time, we had quite a lot of fighting and running about, and the ride turned back towards the rebels’ side, but it still felt like not a lot was accomplished… aside from Longspear dying in a decidedly perfunctory fashion, at least. Today… we have yet more fighting, as Elminster takes the lead. Yay. Joining us once again will be Errezha and Calassara!
Chapter Fourteen: Doom Comes to High Castle
Errezha: *with her chin resting on her hands* More Elminster. Wonderful. Just what I always wanted… Well, we open with Elminster himself, once an archmage of Myth Drannor and now and forever one of Mystra’s Chosen, and is being an archmage of Myth Drannor really the most important accomplishment of your life, that you feel a need to brag of it so? I wasn’t here for that book, but from what I’ve heard from those who were *glances at Calassara* were I in your shoes, it’s something I’d rather forget… And I’m not sure what good being one of Mystra’s Chosen is at this point, when you have reason to suspect that Mystra isn’t long for this world… Well, regardless, we find Elminster where we left him, on horseback charging towards High Castle. He had time to wonder what in Mystra’s name he was doing here… this was not a new thought. On the one hand, points for self-awareness. On the other, I’ll subtract those points for the lack of common-sense in thinking that and still doing… whatever this is.
Calassara: And mid-battle may not seem like a time for self-reflection, but apparently for Elminster it is, as he takes the time to answer his own ponderings! He was here simply because he was who he was. This was the way he took life, making of it what best pleased him: a tapestry as deep and rich and colorful as he could manage, much longer than most ever had a chance to weave. His tapestry, whose great weight of years often hung by a single thread. Because he dared it so and would not have it otherwise. Now, far be it from me to criticize someone else for seeking adventure, but you are at the moment rather more… mortal than usual, what with lacking magic and all. Shouldn’t that figure into your calculations? It also makes it sound like Elminster merely seeks experience rather than fighting for anything; I wonder if the people of High Dale have realized that yet? Anyway, Elminster ducks to avoid a crossbow bolt, and tells himself he’s high and mighty today, hmmm? Yes, yes you are. Today and every day. Just ask Shandril… oh, wait, we can’t. But as the crossbow bolts shoot past him, Elminster decides he really does want to stay alive, magic or no magic. There was so much still to see, to read, to write, to do… so says the man who nearly burned a priceless historical book in a fit of pique at the beginning of this tale! I feel like this could have been a powerful moment, were I even slightly fond of Elminster, but as I am not… But he does realize that charging alone towards a castle full of Zhents without significant magic to his name is a strange way to go about staying alive… perhaps he has achieved some measure of self-awareness after all…
Errezha: And so Elminster starts laughing at the thought, and then his horse trips on a loose stone and throws him. Serves him right. Elminster goes rolling away – if only he kept rolling away! – and tries to find his wand of magic missiles while musing about how at least his horse made it to the castle. Finally, he pulls himself to his feet, wand in hand, to find the horse vanished, the castle guards somewhat fewer than they had been, and the survivors fighting Sharantyr and Mulmar, the latter of whom is still naked *she sighs*. In their own minds, the Zhentilar were easily a match for a woman with a sword and a naked man swinging his slave chains. And in a sane world, against one actual combatant who’s no doubt already weary from the day’s battle and an unarmored man just waiting to be skewered, they would be… but this is Greenwood writing, and we’ve seen how he writes the Zhentilar as slightly less threatening than the average box turtle. I’m not expecting much. And sure enough, Sharantyr and Mulmar have already taken down two of the Zhents, and a third goes down as Elminster approaches… and for some reason he is the one Elminster blasts first! Yes, waste magic on an already downed opponent, that’s a brilliant plan! And one of his companions turns to see what happened, at which point Sharantyr cuts him down, too. Yes, this is turning out about like I expected. Elminster watched him topple and wondered briefly why it is that men find it necessary to spill each other’s blood so often and for so many reasons. *barking a bitter laugh* Well, you’ve certainly shed more than your fair share over the centuries! I’d think you would know the answer if anyone does!
Calassara: But doesn’t the very wording of the question imply that he knows there isn’t a singular reason? Elminster concludes that it is the nature of the beast, which tells us nothing. He watches the fight, and looks back out over the battle at the marketplace, sickened by all the butchery. Normally I’d applaud such a sentiment, but it’s rather late to be developing such feelings now, isn’t it? And I wonder how long it will last? As it happens, not long! Oh, well. Once committed, one must see it all through to the end. *crossly* Well, I’m glad to see your epiphany affected you so profoundly, Old Mage. Or, as another saying he thinks of would have it, once a fool, always a fool. And that, I think, may be closer to the mark. And so Elminster takes advantage of the chaos to run into the castle, taking a moment to wonder if he may finally be getting too old for this; seeing the guards are distracted trying to control his horse (and none of them are watching at all? My, my!) he heads up a staircase where he doesn’t see any crossbowmen waiting. He takes a moment to think about how aside from his tattered robes, he looks much like any other mage in the Realms (is having your clothing be tattered really a point of pride?) and he’ll no doubt be facing the magic of the Zhentarim soon enough. Which would be more threatening if it weren’t for the fact that we know magic is running mad, and also the Zhentarim are about as threatening as… what was it Errezha just said? A box turtle?
Errezha: I’m starting to think I may have overestimated them, actually… And indeed, Elminster reaches the battlements just in time to see Mulmar – the naked man wielding improvised weapons, you’ll recall – burst into the courtyard and take down the last of the gate guards. Because of the angle of the walls, the crossbowmen can’t get a good aim on him… and one of them literally drops his crossbow trying to do so, where it falls to the ground and shatters. *facepalms* Prince save us all, why me? A moment later, Sharantyr comes charging up the stairs; the crossbowmen fire at her (and, of course, miss) and then Elminster literally kicks them in the back of their knees so that they fell in a clutter of armor and a riot of startled curses. Oh, and by the way, it happens that they were ignoring him because they’d been trained not to antagonize wizards. Did… did they think he was a Zhentarim wizard? Do they really not know what the wizards stationed in this castle even look like? Elminster looks around, wondering who to blast with his wand, while finally someone manages to hit Mulmar; one goes through his arm, and one through his thigh. Inexplicably, he survives, but he does collapse to the ground, while Elminster looks over the walls and spots the pitchfork-wielding locals driving a group of seven surviving “Wolves” out of the Dale. *rolling her eyes* A stirring sight indeed.
Calassara: *regarding her disapprovingly* Perhaps it would be, if this scenario had been properly developed at all… Sharantyr reaches Elminster, stabbing a Zhent as she comes (he calls out Shar! Which, if I’m correct, doesn’t seem to be a name one should bandy around so lightly in this world…) and tells her to clear the remaining crossbowmen from the walls. They’ll be the death of us if we don’t! Considering I’m fairly sure you both have to survive this because you’d already made chronologically later appearances in other works… I’m having a hard time feeling the tension. Elminster himself promptly grabs a crossbow and shoots a Zhent, sending him plummeting to his death from the castle wall. How exciting. Sharantyr in turn kills a Zhent, grabs his crossbow, shoots another Zhent with it, tosses it away and attacks yet another Zhent, while calling on Elminster to use his dagger – which he does, to kill the Zhent she’s fighting. By this point the walls are mostly cleared, with only two “Wolves” left. Elminster and Sharantyr throw the Zhent’s body – he’s still struggling, so it seems he was only dying, not dead – over the wall and turn to face them. Elminster grab’s the Zhent’s sword, blinds one of the attackers with a magic missile, then runs him through; it slid in with hideous ease. He’d forgotten that. *waspishly* What, is the visceral side of physical combat bringing you down? Do you prefer to safely blast people from a distance, is that it? Elminster actually feels slightly ill – which I have a hard time crediting, considering all he’s done – and then he trades a few blows with the other Zhent before sticking his wand in his mouth and blowing his head off. *looking queasy* Now I think I’m going to be sick… excuse me… *she gets up and hurries out of the sporking chamber*
Errezha: *watching her go* Thankfully, I have a stronger stomach, a… gift… of my upbringing, I suppose. Elminster tosses the remains over the wall, suddenly realizes he’s left Sharantyr to fight alone, and turns… to see her at the end of a trail of bodies, fighting two frightened-looking Zhentilar at once. Greenwood, am I meant to feel sorry for the Zhents here? Because I almost am. He spots two more crossbowmen getting ready to shoot her and runs to her aid. One of the Zhents manages to score a scratch on her, and she continues to trade blows with her opponents, though it looks like they’re starting to wear her down. Elminster opens fire and takes down one of the crossbowmen as Sharantyr kills both her opponents and charges the last crossbowman. It turns out she’s too winded to reach him before he bolts to a safe distance, where he starts doing something Elminster can’t see. Elminster himself grabs a crossbow from one of the dead “Wolves” and struggles with it (the list of things the Great Elminster can’t do appears to contain one item, and it is “work a crossbow” – how oddly specific). Finally, Sharantyr takes it from him and shoots the last Zhent with it. She then turns back to him. Next time… if you live… to pull a next time on me… choose someplace to go for a walk… that doesn’t… have any gates… hey? Much as I respect the sentiment, if Elminster had been paying attention to the local situation in the first place things would never have gotten this far to begin with, would they?
Calassara: *wandering back in* Ah, that’s better. Where are we now? So, Elminster hugs Sharantyr and kisses her on the cheek – thank the gods, I was worried he’d kiss her on the lips, considering how he’s been acting around her – and tells her to sit down. Sharantyr says she’ll be finished if she does that, but Elminster tells her she will sit, one way or another. That… sounded like a threat, didn’t it? But Sharantyr doesn’t seem to think so, as she grins and sits down, and Elminster slips a ring onto her finger. It was still warm from the heat of his body, not something I needed to know… He tells her to lie still for a moment; he’s still looking for the Zhent wizards, who he’s not seen since Stormcloak fled the market, and that worries him. Sharantyr points out, rightly, that he was the one who attacked a castle alone – Elminster retorts that he wasn’t alone, he had a horse! *beat* Savored Sting help me, Greenwood, perhaps my expectations are just lowered, but that was actually mildly amusing. Sharantyr bursts out laughing rather more than the joke deserves, though the text at least attributes it partially to exhaustion. Elminster looks around the battlefield, nothing that none of the Zhentilar who rode to the marketplace seem to be alive (brilliant tactics, Stormcloak!) while the Dalefolk seem to have taken back the town, and there aren’t any live “Wolves” visible on the walls, either. The Sage of Shadowdale and the lady Knight of Myth Drannor were alone with the dead. A familiar position for you both, I’m sure. Meanwhile, down in the courtyard, the townsfolk and the Zhents are still struggling. Apparently, the townsfolk have decided, understandably, that none of the Zhents should live, and the Zhents – perhaps also understandably – object to that.
Errezha: Suddenly, a door opens along the rampart and a tired-looking Zhentilar wanders out, followed by a half-dozen others with crossbows, quarrels and ropes. As the battle intensifies below, Elminster watches the Zhents set up their weapons; he realizes they’re planning to escape over the walls using the ropes, with the crossbows to cover them. And the Great Elminster… does not decide to let his fleeing enemies flee and raises his wand at them instead. *she rubs her forehead* Wasn’t there some old general in Tian Xia who said something about always leaving the enemy an escape route, so they don’t feel they have no choice but to fight to the death? I don’t think Elminster ever read that… But, for his troubles, all his wand does is flash brightly and shoot some flowers out of its end, and attracts the attention of the Zhents who seemingly hadn’t actually noticed him. Aha! See, you should have let them run! Elminster curses, and Sharantyr wonders what’s happening; Elminster explains how his wand failed, and now I don’t feel up to defeating the six or seven Zhentilar warriors who are up here with us… they have crossbows. And you brought this upon yourself by trying to attack fleeing enemies! If I wasn’t absolutely certain Greenwood was about to get you out of this effortlessly, I’d laugh.
Calassara: Sharantyr asks if they should try to flee down the wall, but Elminster doesn’t want to escape, since he’s sure they’re going for reinforcements elsewhere in the Dale. Excuse me, but what reinforcements? You yourself just saw that the Zhents in the Dale had just been routed by the townsfolk! Why is that more plausible than “they just saw their comrades mowed down in droves and were trying to get out while they still could?” Sharantyr, though, admits that having just charged into a hostile castle with only a naked man for company, she is in no position to argue prudence (and she’s not wrong…) and so Elminster pulls out an iron sphere, and Sharantyr a throwing dagger. They wait for the Zhents to approach, and then Sharantyr throws her knife into the face of one of them, just as his bolt hits Elminster’s torso – dare I dream? She manages to tackle two of the Zhents off the wall, cuts the throat of another, and fights her way through them before turning back to Elminster, and the chapter ends as she hopes she’s not too late. Knowing Greenwood, I find it hard to feel much suspense.
MG: This chapter is just tedious. It’s just lots of pointless fighting with lots of nameless mooks, all of whom die effortlessly, and even when they do manage to injure or impede our heroes before they go down, it’s hard to get too worked up about it when it’s painfully obvious that they’re going to get out of this in one piece. Not helping is that with Longspear dead and all our other villains, most obviously Stormcloak, missing in action, there’s just not a lot of actually interesting enemies to fight, just Zhent, after Zhent, after Zhent. For, if I’m not mistaken, about the fourth straight chapter of fighting (and we’re not done yet). Even Elminster’s epiphanies at the beginning of the chapter, and then partway through it, feel like they don’t actually have anything to do with anything, nor to they actually affect his behavior any, so it’s just hard to care. Regardless, that’s it for today’s chapter. Next time, battle continues, and we see how Elminster and Sharantyr get out of their predicament. We’ll see you then!
Warning: This chapter contains a lot of death and violence.
MG: Well, everyone, it’s time to continue our journey through Ed Greenwood’s Shadows of Doom! Last time, we had quite a lot of fighting and running about, and the ride turned back towards the rebels’ side, but it still felt like not a lot was accomplished… aside from Longspear dying in a decidedly perfunctory fashion, at least. Today… we have yet more fighting, as Elminster takes the lead. Yay. Joining us once again will be Errezha and Calassara!
Chapter Fourteen: Doom Comes to High Castle
Errezha: *with her chin resting on her hands* More Elminster. Wonderful. Just what I always wanted… Well, we open with Elminster himself, once an archmage of Myth Drannor and now and forever one of Mystra’s Chosen, and is being an archmage of Myth Drannor really the most important accomplishment of your life, that you feel a need to brag of it so? I wasn’t here for that book, but from what I’ve heard from those who were *glances at Calassara* were I in your shoes, it’s something I’d rather forget… And I’m not sure what good being one of Mystra’s Chosen is at this point, when you have reason to suspect that Mystra isn’t long for this world… Well, regardless, we find Elminster where we left him, on horseback charging towards High Castle. He had time to wonder what in Mystra’s name he was doing here… this was not a new thought. On the one hand, points for self-awareness. On the other, I’ll subtract those points for the lack of common-sense in thinking that and still doing… whatever this is.
Calassara: And mid-battle may not seem like a time for self-reflection, but apparently for Elminster it is, as he takes the time to answer his own ponderings! He was here simply because he was who he was. This was the way he took life, making of it what best pleased him: a tapestry as deep and rich and colorful as he could manage, much longer than most ever had a chance to weave. His tapestry, whose great weight of years often hung by a single thread. Because he dared it so and would not have it otherwise. Now, far be it from me to criticize someone else for seeking adventure, but you are at the moment rather more… mortal than usual, what with lacking magic and all. Shouldn’t that figure into your calculations? It also makes it sound like Elminster merely seeks experience rather than fighting for anything; I wonder if the people of High Dale have realized that yet? Anyway, Elminster ducks to avoid a crossbow bolt, and tells himself he’s high and mighty today, hmmm? Yes, yes you are. Today and every day. Just ask Shandril… oh, wait, we can’t. But as the crossbow bolts shoot past him, Elminster decides he really does want to stay alive, magic or no magic. There was so much still to see, to read, to write, to do… so says the man who nearly burned a priceless historical book in a fit of pique at the beginning of this tale! I feel like this could have been a powerful moment, were I even slightly fond of Elminster, but as I am not… But he does realize that charging alone towards a castle full of Zhents without significant magic to his name is a strange way to go about staying alive… perhaps he has achieved some measure of self-awareness after all…
Errezha: And so Elminster starts laughing at the thought, and then his horse trips on a loose stone and throws him. Serves him right. Elminster goes rolling away – if only he kept rolling away! – and tries to find his wand of magic missiles while musing about how at least his horse made it to the castle. Finally, he pulls himself to his feet, wand in hand, to find the horse vanished, the castle guards somewhat fewer than they had been, and the survivors fighting Sharantyr and Mulmar, the latter of whom is still naked *she sighs*. In their own minds, the Zhentilar were easily a match for a woman with a sword and a naked man swinging his slave chains. And in a sane world, against one actual combatant who’s no doubt already weary from the day’s battle and an unarmored man just waiting to be skewered, they would be… but this is Greenwood writing, and we’ve seen how he writes the Zhentilar as slightly less threatening than the average box turtle. I’m not expecting much. And sure enough, Sharantyr and Mulmar have already taken down two of the Zhents, and a third goes down as Elminster approaches… and for some reason he is the one Elminster blasts first! Yes, waste magic on an already downed opponent, that’s a brilliant plan! And one of his companions turns to see what happened, at which point Sharantyr cuts him down, too. Yes, this is turning out about like I expected. Elminster watched him topple and wondered briefly why it is that men find it necessary to spill each other’s blood so often and for so many reasons. *barking a bitter laugh* Well, you’ve certainly shed more than your fair share over the centuries! I’d think you would know the answer if anyone does!
Calassara: But doesn’t the very wording of the question imply that he knows there isn’t a singular reason? Elminster concludes that it is the nature of the beast, which tells us nothing. He watches the fight, and looks back out over the battle at the marketplace, sickened by all the butchery. Normally I’d applaud such a sentiment, but it’s rather late to be developing such feelings now, isn’t it? And I wonder how long it will last? As it happens, not long! Oh, well. Once committed, one must see it all through to the end. *crossly* Well, I’m glad to see your epiphany affected you so profoundly, Old Mage. Or, as another saying he thinks of would have it, once a fool, always a fool. And that, I think, may be closer to the mark. And so Elminster takes advantage of the chaos to run into the castle, taking a moment to wonder if he may finally be getting too old for this; seeing the guards are distracted trying to control his horse (and none of them are watching at all? My, my!) he heads up a staircase where he doesn’t see any crossbowmen waiting. He takes a moment to think about how aside from his tattered robes, he looks much like any other mage in the Realms (is having your clothing be tattered really a point of pride?) and he’ll no doubt be facing the magic of the Zhentarim soon enough. Which would be more threatening if it weren’t for the fact that we know magic is running mad, and also the Zhentarim are about as threatening as… what was it Errezha just said? A box turtle?
Errezha: I’m starting to think I may have overestimated them, actually… And indeed, Elminster reaches the battlements just in time to see Mulmar – the naked man wielding improvised weapons, you’ll recall – burst into the courtyard and take down the last of the gate guards. Because of the angle of the walls, the crossbowmen can’t get a good aim on him… and one of them literally drops his crossbow trying to do so, where it falls to the ground and shatters. *facepalms* Prince save us all, why me? A moment later, Sharantyr comes charging up the stairs; the crossbowmen fire at her (and, of course, miss) and then Elminster literally kicks them in the back of their knees so that they fell in a clutter of armor and a riot of startled curses. Oh, and by the way, it happens that they were ignoring him because they’d been trained not to antagonize wizards. Did… did they think he was a Zhentarim wizard? Do they really not know what the wizards stationed in this castle even look like? Elminster looks around, wondering who to blast with his wand, while finally someone manages to hit Mulmar; one goes through his arm, and one through his thigh. Inexplicably, he survives, but he does collapse to the ground, while Elminster looks over the walls and spots the pitchfork-wielding locals driving a group of seven surviving “Wolves” out of the Dale. *rolling her eyes* A stirring sight indeed.
Calassara: *regarding her disapprovingly* Perhaps it would be, if this scenario had been properly developed at all… Sharantyr reaches Elminster, stabbing a Zhent as she comes (he calls out Shar! Which, if I’m correct, doesn’t seem to be a name one should bandy around so lightly in this world…) and tells her to clear the remaining crossbowmen from the walls. They’ll be the death of us if we don’t! Considering I’m fairly sure you both have to survive this because you’d already made chronologically later appearances in other works… I’m having a hard time feeling the tension. Elminster himself promptly grabs a crossbow and shoots a Zhent, sending him plummeting to his death from the castle wall. How exciting. Sharantyr in turn kills a Zhent, grabs his crossbow, shoots another Zhent with it, tosses it away and attacks yet another Zhent, while calling on Elminster to use his dagger – which he does, to kill the Zhent she’s fighting. By this point the walls are mostly cleared, with only two “Wolves” left. Elminster and Sharantyr throw the Zhent’s body – he’s still struggling, so it seems he was only dying, not dead – over the wall and turn to face them. Elminster grab’s the Zhent’s sword, blinds one of the attackers with a magic missile, then runs him through; it slid in with hideous ease. He’d forgotten that. *waspishly* What, is the visceral side of physical combat bringing you down? Do you prefer to safely blast people from a distance, is that it? Elminster actually feels slightly ill – which I have a hard time crediting, considering all he’s done – and then he trades a few blows with the other Zhent before sticking his wand in his mouth and blowing his head off. *looking queasy* Now I think I’m going to be sick… excuse me… *she gets up and hurries out of the sporking chamber*
Errezha: *watching her go* Thankfully, I have a stronger stomach, a… gift… of my upbringing, I suppose. Elminster tosses the remains over the wall, suddenly realizes he’s left Sharantyr to fight alone, and turns… to see her at the end of a trail of bodies, fighting two frightened-looking Zhentilar at once. Greenwood, am I meant to feel sorry for the Zhents here? Because I almost am. He spots two more crossbowmen getting ready to shoot her and runs to her aid. One of the Zhents manages to score a scratch on her, and she continues to trade blows with her opponents, though it looks like they’re starting to wear her down. Elminster opens fire and takes down one of the crossbowmen as Sharantyr kills both her opponents and charges the last crossbowman. It turns out she’s too winded to reach him before he bolts to a safe distance, where he starts doing something Elminster can’t see. Elminster himself grabs a crossbow from one of the dead “Wolves” and struggles with it (the list of things the Great Elminster can’t do appears to contain one item, and it is “work a crossbow” – how oddly specific). Finally, Sharantyr takes it from him and shoots the last Zhent with it. She then turns back to him. Next time… if you live… to pull a next time on me… choose someplace to go for a walk… that doesn’t… have any gates… hey? Much as I respect the sentiment, if Elminster had been paying attention to the local situation in the first place things would never have gotten this far to begin with, would they?
Calassara: *wandering back in* Ah, that’s better. Where are we now? So, Elminster hugs Sharantyr and kisses her on the cheek – thank the gods, I was worried he’d kiss her on the lips, considering how he’s been acting around her – and tells her to sit down. Sharantyr says she’ll be finished if she does that, but Elminster tells her she will sit, one way or another. That… sounded like a threat, didn’t it? But Sharantyr doesn’t seem to think so, as she grins and sits down, and Elminster slips a ring onto her finger. It was still warm from the heat of his body, not something I needed to know… He tells her to lie still for a moment; he’s still looking for the Zhent wizards, who he’s not seen since Stormcloak fled the market, and that worries him. Sharantyr points out, rightly, that he was the one who attacked a castle alone – Elminster retorts that he wasn’t alone, he had a horse! *beat* Savored Sting help me, Greenwood, perhaps my expectations are just lowered, but that was actually mildly amusing. Sharantyr bursts out laughing rather more than the joke deserves, though the text at least attributes it partially to exhaustion. Elminster looks around the battlefield, nothing that none of the Zhentilar who rode to the marketplace seem to be alive (brilliant tactics, Stormcloak!) while the Dalefolk seem to have taken back the town, and there aren’t any live “Wolves” visible on the walls, either. The Sage of Shadowdale and the lady Knight of Myth Drannor were alone with the dead. A familiar position for you both, I’m sure. Meanwhile, down in the courtyard, the townsfolk and the Zhents are still struggling. Apparently, the townsfolk have decided, understandably, that none of the Zhents should live, and the Zhents – perhaps also understandably – object to that.
Errezha: Suddenly, a door opens along the rampart and a tired-looking Zhentilar wanders out, followed by a half-dozen others with crossbows, quarrels and ropes. As the battle intensifies below, Elminster watches the Zhents set up their weapons; he realizes they’re planning to escape over the walls using the ropes, with the crossbows to cover them. And the Great Elminster… does not decide to let his fleeing enemies flee and raises his wand at them instead. *she rubs her forehead* Wasn’t there some old general in Tian Xia who said something about always leaving the enemy an escape route, so they don’t feel they have no choice but to fight to the death? I don’t think Elminster ever read that… But, for his troubles, all his wand does is flash brightly and shoot some flowers out of its end, and attracts the attention of the Zhents who seemingly hadn’t actually noticed him. Aha! See, you should have let them run! Elminster curses, and Sharantyr wonders what’s happening; Elminster explains how his wand failed, and now I don’t feel up to defeating the six or seven Zhentilar warriors who are up here with us… they have crossbows. And you brought this upon yourself by trying to attack fleeing enemies! If I wasn’t absolutely certain Greenwood was about to get you out of this effortlessly, I’d laugh.
Calassara: Sharantyr asks if they should try to flee down the wall, but Elminster doesn’t want to escape, since he’s sure they’re going for reinforcements elsewhere in the Dale. Excuse me, but what reinforcements? You yourself just saw that the Zhents in the Dale had just been routed by the townsfolk! Why is that more plausible than “they just saw their comrades mowed down in droves and were trying to get out while they still could?” Sharantyr, though, admits that having just charged into a hostile castle with only a naked man for company, she is in no position to argue prudence (and she’s not wrong…) and so Elminster pulls out an iron sphere, and Sharantyr a throwing dagger. They wait for the Zhents to approach, and then Sharantyr throws her knife into the face of one of them, just as his bolt hits Elminster’s torso – dare I dream? She manages to tackle two of the Zhents off the wall, cuts the throat of another, and fights her way through them before turning back to Elminster, and the chapter ends as she hopes she’s not too late. Knowing Greenwood, I find it hard to feel much suspense.
MG: This chapter is just tedious. It’s just lots of pointless fighting with lots of nameless mooks, all of whom die effortlessly, and even when they do manage to injure or impede our heroes before they go down, it’s hard to get too worked up about it when it’s painfully obvious that they’re going to get out of this in one piece. Not helping is that with Longspear dead and all our other villains, most obviously Stormcloak, missing in action, there’s just not a lot of actually interesting enemies to fight, just Zhent, after Zhent, after Zhent. For, if I’m not mistaken, about the fourth straight chapter of fighting (and we’re not done yet). Even Elminster’s epiphanies at the beginning of the chapter, and then partway through it, feel like they don’t actually have anything to do with anything, nor to they actually affect his behavior any, so it’s just hard to care. Regardless, that’s it for today’s chapter. Next time, battle continues, and we see how Elminster and Sharantyr get out of their predicament. We’ll see you then!
