![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
masterghandalfThis is a repost from Das_sporking2. Previous installments of this sporking may be found here.
MG: Well, everyone, it’s time to continue our journey through Ed Greenwood’s Cloak of Shadows. And for reasons unrelated to the book itself, I’m feeling unusually vindictive today, so let’s get to this. Last time, Dhalgrave, the dying ruler of the Malaugrym, promised his throne to any of his people who manage to kill Elminster. Meanwhile, Elminster himself, together with Storm, Sylune and the Simbul of the Seven Sisters, decided to use the ghost Sylune as a decoy in a fake Elminster body to draw the Malaugrym into a trap, and they roped Sharantyr, Belkram and Itharr into helping them (despite no evidence they’re at all qualified to deal with the Malaugrym). Today, Operation: Fool the Shadowmasters goes into effect. Joining us today will be Calassara and Errezha.
Chapter Three: To Battle We Go, to Let the Blood Flow
Calassara: Calistria’s Sting. Is that supposed to be poetry? Because if so, it’s so bad it makes it sound like Caelum slipped in here and wrote it (and, sorry, Caelum, you’re wonderful, and I know you’d love for your deeds to be commemorated in epic poetry someday… but leave the writing of it to the professionals, hmmm?). Anyway, we open the chapter proper in Daggerdale, Kythorn 15, which I believe places us one day later and one Dale over from where we were yesterday. It’s an early, misty morning, and Sharantyr says she’d bet money that the gods don’t get up this early, while Belkram and Itharr won’t take that bet. *beat* Do gods even sleep? I’ve never been quite sure… and doesn’t your pantheon have multiple deities associated with darkness and the night? I’d wager Shar – that’s the goddess Shar, not Sharantyr – is far more likely to be awake at night and sleep through the day than the reverse!
Errezha: *rubbing her forehead* It’s Greenwood, Calassara. Don’t encourage him. Well Storm looks over her shoulder and complains about the sorts of knights and Harpers Faerun is producing these days and starts to ramble about when she was their age (ugh, first the Malaugrym elder last chapter, now Storm’s doing it – and to think I was starting to like her a little…). Fortunately, Sharantyr cuts her off.
“I know, I know,” Sharantyr interrupted her smoothly. “You went to bed at dawn after spending all night on your knees, cleaning the stables with your tongue, and enjoyed a deep and restful sleep for the time it took the stable master, roused by cock’s crow, to walk the length of the stalls and empty his chamber pot over you. Then you had to run two miles to the river to bathe and draw enough water for all the horses to drink, run back with it, and get the axe to go out and chop firewood for the kitchen fires, before y—”
Errezha: Sharantyr, for a woman who is supposedly exhausted, you’ve put far, far too much thought into this. You certainly wouldn’t be getting long, rambling monologues from me that early in the morning… murderous glares, more likely. Elminster adds that when he was young, axes hadn’t even been invented yet and they had to cut down and haul wood with their bare hands – really, now, based on Making of a Mage I do not think that’s true! Belkram wonders if doing all that is why Elminster looks so old; Elminster has… other ideas.
Elminster swiveled a cold eye in his direction and replied gruffly, “Nay, I got my hunch from fathering dynasties and fortifying kingdoms, a baby and a boulder at a time. Trees were no trouble to carry in those days, lad. The gods hadn’t thought of them much before, y’see, and none of ’em’d grown much more than halfway to yer knee.”
Errezha: Ugh, knowing Greenwood, he’s probably telling the truth, except for the part about trees (I suppose Elminster just doesn’t want to admit some things exist that are older than he is…).
Calassara: The good news is that everyone is exasperated at this, including Storm. They continue to ride towards Daggerdale for a while until Storm turns around, saying she has other business to attend to, wishes them all luck, and rides off. Or at least she tries too, as suddenly they’re accosted by armed men asking where they’re going, in Lord Mourngrym’s name. Well, since Mourngrym is, inexplicable, Elminster’s friend, I doubt there’s going to be much trouble (unless these men are all Malaugrym in disguise, that is…). But Storm announces herself, and they recognize her and Elminster and let them pass; Storm also calls out one of the guards, Brion, by name. She tells him she’ll be returning soon, alone, and they ride on through the mists. Finally, they come to a halt, Storm says goodbye again (by the gods, this book is repeating itself already) and rides off. For real, this time. When she’s gone, Sharantyr asks Elminster where they’re going, and he says forward; Itharr notes that they’re heading towards Daggerdale, which seems to bother him; Elminster agrees that they are but won’t say anymore, leading Belkram to swear by all the lazy ruling lords (why are you swearing by lords, Belkram? Is that a euphemism for the gods? Or have you decided to follow the path of the people of Razmiran from my own world and begun worshipping your rulers?) that it is indeed Elminster, and the scene ends.
Errezha: We then cut to the Castle of Shadows, where the shadows themselves are stirring with agitation in the throne room as a Malaugrym in the form of a spiky lizard watches a misty scene through a scrying pool (ah, a Greenwood classic! “Wizard scries on things,” how exciting – and no, the fact that the wizard in question is currently a lizard does not make it any more novel). Finally, the Malaugrym, seeing nothing but unable to shake the feeling that he himself is being watched, turns away, feeling ridiculous. Well, he has some self-awareness, at least… A moment later a tentacle touches his shoulder, causing him to start; he whirls to see another Malaugrym, in the form of a tentacled giant mushroom - why – who warns him not to ever let his guard down. The mushroom’s name, we learn, is Bheloris and the lizard is Neleyd; Bheloris shifts into the form of a man with a lion’s head, while Neleyd grows a spike on the end of his tail and watches warily. Bheloris wonders if Neleyd was hoping to catch a glimpse of Elminster; Neleyd thinks spying on him was prudent, and Bheloris is apparently pleased to hear one of the younger Malaugrym be concerned with prudence (ah, if only more people were…). He muses about what a disaster it would be if all the younger Malaugrym swarmed against a superior foe without planning, trusting only in numbers to bring them down, and all got slaughtered – why yes, yest it would be. It’s also, sadly, Greenwood’s villains’ default tactic, so how long will it be before they resort to it here, I wonder?
Calassara: …I won’t take that wager, but I imagine it will be soon. Suddenly, however, a beautiful young woman comes gliding over, sprouting hooks along her arms and a shark’s fin on her head as she comes (… not a look I’d go for myself, but it certainly is memorable!). She says that she’s never heard anything but arrogance from the elder Malaugrym, who do nothing but sit around all day judging the younger while never taking action themselves. Bheloris… is not amused.
“And I have yet to discern anything but aggressive presumption in those younger kin like you, Huerbara, who speak against their elders and find fault with things done long ago, conveniently before such young, bright-browed heroes were on the scene to do things properly.”
Calassara: …well. Huerbara sprouts a spiked tail of her own and warns Bheloris to take care; they stare each other down, until he finally reminds her to heed his warning and turns back to Neleyd, asking if he has any plans for dealing with Elminster. Neleyd admits he has thoughts but no plans, and that he’d appreciate the input of someone more experienced, bowing to Bheloris; this enrages Huerbara enough that she shifts her whole body, sans head, into a giant scorpion and stalks forward angrily. Oooh, I must admit I like her style… rising to the obvious bait, on the other hand, was perhaps unwise… Bheloris simply ignores her (rude, but not unexpected…) and calmly tells Neleyd he’d love to advise him and wonders when they could arrange a meeting to discuss the matter. Neleyd, nervous, says he can do so any time, but feels a need to warn Bheloris about Huerbara (was it not obvious he was deliberately snubbing her?) but Bheloris is genuinely unconcerned.
“I thank you for your regard for my welfare. Would that all younglings valued the resources of their kin so highly. Yet there is no need. The peril you seek to warn me of has the passion but lacks the daring. Observe her. She knows I am older, wiser in the ways of violence, and am expecting her attack. Thinking to awe me, she delayed action for a time … time in which she has inevitably begun to consider the consequences, and probable outcome, of any aggressive action. So it is that she has found she dare not attack, for swallowing an insult is a far less painful thing to do than dying—slowly, and in slavery to the pain and humiliations I can easily visit upon her. However reluctantly, she knows it and thereby takes another slow, unwilling step toward the self-discipline that marks the mature Malaugrym. Perhaps someday she’ll have added enough steps along that path for her to finally acknowledge that self-control is necessary for those of our blood, and further, that she lacks it.”
Errezha: Ugh, convoluted family politics and lectures from condescending elders – how I have missed that. Well, Bheloris makes a fair point, but he does it in such a pompous, long-winded way the effect is rather lost – if Greenwood’s intent was to make him look like an old master among the Malaugrym, he instead seems to have presented him as an old windbag. However, Bheloris never loses his composure, and turns the topic back to Elminster. He warns Neleyd to keep his plans private, lest other, less prudent Malaugrym get involved, mess things up, and lead them all to ruin. Neleyd and Bheloris both digest his words, with Huerbara dwindling out of her scorpion form and into a woman with a serpent tail for legs as she considers the matter. She finally turns to leave, and after hearing laughter echoing from the shadows, Bheloris suggests that they continue their discussion somewhere more… private (yes, why were we playing out this little drama in full view of the public, may I ask?). Before they can, however, the scrying mirror suddenly flashes, and reveals a vision of Elminster and his party riding through the mists of Daggerdale. “Elminster!” came the snarl from a dozen throats. Several younger Malaugrym, who’d never seen the hated human mage properly before, moved right up to the portal to get a good look. Ugh, you don’t have to do that; he’s not much to look at, believe me. One of them calls on the others to strike now and be done with it (you… are aware that this man makes a hobby of slaughtering your kind, and that’s why your master wants him dead, correct? What makes you think he’ll be easy prey?). Another Malaugrym, in the form of a handsome man with a sword for an arm – oh, nice – wonders if it’s really Elminster or if this a trap (give this man a medal, because I suspect he’s correct, from what we heard last time…) while another voice, possibly Huerbara’s, calls all the elders cowards and wonders how any of them managed the courage to approach a human maid to sire any of us…
MG: …yes, this is foreshadowing of some of what the book will have to say later on the topic of Malaugrym reproduction. I’ll save more details for then, but until we get there, I’ll just remind you that Spellfire featured Amarune, a female Malaugrym who had borne children with, it is implied, another Malaugrym as her mate. Just… keep that in mind to compare against what we hear later.
Calassara: Well. I am… terrified. Back to the story, the Malaugrym with the sword arm says he’s been spoken to that way before, but no one has dared do it twice and asks if anyone here now is willing to risk it. A young Malaugrym – not Huerbara – says he is, so the elder proposes a challenge. The youngster can attack Elminster, and if he’s in mortal danger, the elder can use his magic to pull him out. The youngster can’t bring himself to trust Kostil, who agrees that trust among them is unwise; Kostil almost leaves the conversation there until he hears Bheloris quietly laughing at him, then demands to know if any other young ones will volunteer. Finally, the young one, Taernil son of Oracla announces he fears nothing and that he will attack Elminster, and Kostil is welcome to assist – not that Taernil has seen any of the elders wield magic that impresses him. *beat* Really, is this a society of ancient shapeshifters or a bunch of schoolboys on a dare trying to one-up each other? Kostil makes a grand gesture of granting permission, so Taernil charges into the scrying mirror and vanishes. Once he’s gone, Neleyd sees many of the other elders shaking their heads and departing – I know the feeling – while he decides to stay, since he wants to watch the fight and learn what he can. Smart – I’m surprised, considering who is writing this. However, he also spots two of the elders placing wagers. The bets were on how much magic he’d manage to loose at Elminster before being destroyed. Neither granted any chance that he’d survive. *beat* Well… at least they’re aware of the odds?
Errezha: *snorts* For whatever good it will do them. We then cut to Milhvar, he of the cloak from the first chapter, as he summons a portal and shows another Malaugrym named Issaran some spell-stones guarded by magic. Apparently, this is enough to convince Issaran that any treachery against Milhvar is futile, for some reason; Issaran says he’s ready for whatever he’s agreed to do, and Milhvar summons another portal, which resembles the Great Hall’s scrying portal, and after making sure Issaran knows the word to return, sends him through. May you have Malaug’s own luck. Considering Malaug’s luck probably got him blown to bits in the middle of a field in Athalantar and his enemies proceed to have sex while surrounded by his remains… I’m not sure that’s a good thing to have. Issaran vanishes, and Milhvar calls up another portal to watch Elminster and his company, before turning his attention back to Issaran. Milhvar grins to himself as he thinks of how he’s bonded his scrying spell to the artifact that will allow Issaran to return, and so if he tries to destroy it, he’ll only strand himself there. Decently clever, I must admit. He would have been less confident had he been able to see Issaran’s face. At that moment, in the woods of Daggerdale on a chilly morning, it wore the same ruthlessly assured expression. If only I had some context for this maneuvering… but I don’t. I barely know Milhvar, I don’t know Issaran at all, and I have no idea what either of them wants or what the point of this is. Fun.
Calassara: We cut back to Daggerdale, where Elminster proposes they spend the night at the ruins of somewhere called Irythkeep. We learn that they’ve been riding through Daggerdale all day, and seen how desolate it has become after ten years of continuous low-level warfare –
MG: Between Daggerdale’s traditional lord and Zhentarim forces attempting to wrest control of it away from him, if you’re curious.
Calassara: While Elminster, apparently, has ridden along with the attitude of a bored tour guide – so good to know he’s taking this so seriously! Apparently earlier in the day a gargoyle circled them, but decided better of attacking, but beyond that, they haven’t seen anyone. Elminster points at the ruins, and declares that unless a dragon, lich or something similarly energetic has decided to dwell there, that’s our camp for the night. And does the Great Elminster perhaps have divination spells that might alert his companions if something “energetic” is indeed inhabiting the ruins? Itharr complains that it doesn’t look like much. Elminster has this to say:
“A Harper needs no roof nor servants,” Elminster told the sky overhead innocently, “but is happy to sleep under the stars, where the air is fresh, the living earth is closer, and the body has no chance to become pampered and weak.”
Calassara: Belkram grouses that of course Elminster knows that part of the Harpers’ Code, and Elminster admits he wrote it. Oh, ha, ha. I’m quite able to spend the night roughing it, if I must… but I’m quite glad to belong to an organization that doesn’t have proscriptions against things like “beds” and “bathing,” thank you. But Elminster ignores the rangers’ exasperated responses and rides on towards the ruins, while we learn that Irythkeep was once grand but was devastated in the war, particularly when a Zhentarim mage summoned a fire-spitting hydra inside it. Well. That would do it! Now only some walls and a few ragged outbuildings are left.
Errezha: And of course, that’s where he wants to stop. Lovely. Elminster notices some rats – or maybe squirrels – running about, which startle Itharr into drawing his sword. He asks if he intends to show thy manhood and deadly prowess against them (ah, yes, butchering small rodents, that most masculine of activities!) but Itharr just tosses his sword, catches it, and sheathes it with a “no”. So apparently not. Belkram and Itharr dismount ahead, and Elminster turns to Sharantyr and asks well, lass? To which she replies as pouting maidens are wont to say… well, what? *arching her eyebrow* I like to think I don’t pout…
Calassara: *rolling her eyes* No, you brood. And sometimes simmer. Much more dignified.
Errezha: *ignoring her* But I have to agree with the question. Elminster asks what foolish thing she is going to do, and she admits she’s doing it – guarding him. Well… fair enough! Elminster tells her to put her sword away, which she says she’ll do after the Harpers report that the ruins are safe – and reminds him that she doesn’t tell him how to cast spells. Oh, she has a point… Elminster tells him to lash me with that pretty tongue o’thine later, and by the Prince, I worry he means that literally… but Sharantyr does sheathe her sword, just before Elminster vaults off his horse so suddenly he startles it. Showoff. She tries to grab its reins, but Elminster suddenly shoves her off her horse, and then raises his hands, fire flashing from his eyes, and calls on someone he calls a mageling to show themselves. Sharantyr catches a brief glimpse of a black-robed figure hovering in midair, and then eight balls of bright flame erupted out of empty air and roared towards her and Elminster, drawing slightly apart as they came. *flatly* Oh no. This is terrible. Whatever shall we do? Ahem. Sharantyr thinks melodramatically about death she knew she could not escape - girl, you’re standing next to one of the most powerful wizards in your world, you will be fine – and hears the Harpers scream in the distance; is this how swiftly and easily death reaches out to take us all? *she sighs* No, it’s not. See previous comment. But in any case, the chapter ends here, and so learning how Sharantyr inevitably survives this… deadly peril… will have to wait.
MG: Well, this chapter… wasn’t terrible, by Greenwood standards, but it also wasn’t good. Out “heroes” have begun their journey to draw out the Malaugrym, and the Malaugrym themselves have begun their attack, so at least we have that going for us. We also meet several Malaugrym, including Bheloris, Neleyd, Huerbara, and Issaran, who will be reasonably important going forward. But the Malaugrym in general sadly underwhelm this time around; though a few of them show some competence, a lot of them prove themselves just as stupid evil and disorganized as the Zhents or the magelords, and their dry conversations with each other and petty games of one-upmanship make them seem less like a terrifying force of evil and more like that obnoxious person at work who thinks they know better than anyone and will tell you all about why, at length. And the ending of the chapter is just… needlessly melodramatic for an early-book cliffhanger, since it’s incredibly obvious to anyone that Elminster and Sharantyr aren’t going to die here. But at least the trilogy’s actual plot has started now, after a whole book of wheel-spinning. Next time, battle continues, we learn what secret Elminster is hiding (though it’s not hard to guess) and Greenwood succeeds in snarling the timeline beyond all repair. We’ll see you then!
MG: Well, everyone, it’s time to continue our journey through Ed Greenwood’s Cloak of Shadows. And for reasons unrelated to the book itself, I’m feeling unusually vindictive today, so let’s get to this. Last time, Dhalgrave, the dying ruler of the Malaugrym, promised his throne to any of his people who manage to kill Elminster. Meanwhile, Elminster himself, together with Storm, Sylune and the Simbul of the Seven Sisters, decided to use the ghost Sylune as a decoy in a fake Elminster body to draw the Malaugrym into a trap, and they roped Sharantyr, Belkram and Itharr into helping them (despite no evidence they’re at all qualified to deal with the Malaugrym). Today, Operation: Fool the Shadowmasters goes into effect. Joining us today will be Calassara and Errezha.
Chapter Three: To Battle We Go, to Let the Blood Flow
Calassara: Calistria’s Sting. Is that supposed to be poetry? Because if so, it’s so bad it makes it sound like Caelum slipped in here and wrote it (and, sorry, Caelum, you’re wonderful, and I know you’d love for your deeds to be commemorated in epic poetry someday… but leave the writing of it to the professionals, hmmm?). Anyway, we open the chapter proper in Daggerdale, Kythorn 15, which I believe places us one day later and one Dale over from where we were yesterday. It’s an early, misty morning, and Sharantyr says she’d bet money that the gods don’t get up this early, while Belkram and Itharr won’t take that bet. *beat* Do gods even sleep? I’ve never been quite sure… and doesn’t your pantheon have multiple deities associated with darkness and the night? I’d wager Shar – that’s the goddess Shar, not Sharantyr – is far more likely to be awake at night and sleep through the day than the reverse!
Errezha: *rubbing her forehead* It’s Greenwood, Calassara. Don’t encourage him. Well Storm looks over her shoulder and complains about the sorts of knights and Harpers Faerun is producing these days and starts to ramble about when she was their age (ugh, first the Malaugrym elder last chapter, now Storm’s doing it – and to think I was starting to like her a little…). Fortunately, Sharantyr cuts her off.
“I know, I know,” Sharantyr interrupted her smoothly. “You went to bed at dawn after spending all night on your knees, cleaning the stables with your tongue, and enjoyed a deep and restful sleep for the time it took the stable master, roused by cock’s crow, to walk the length of the stalls and empty his chamber pot over you. Then you had to run two miles to the river to bathe and draw enough water for all the horses to drink, run back with it, and get the axe to go out and chop firewood for the kitchen fires, before y—”
Errezha: Sharantyr, for a woman who is supposedly exhausted, you’ve put far, far too much thought into this. You certainly wouldn’t be getting long, rambling monologues from me that early in the morning… murderous glares, more likely. Elminster adds that when he was young, axes hadn’t even been invented yet and they had to cut down and haul wood with their bare hands – really, now, based on Making of a Mage I do not think that’s true! Belkram wonders if doing all that is why Elminster looks so old; Elminster has… other ideas.
Elminster swiveled a cold eye in his direction and replied gruffly, “Nay, I got my hunch from fathering dynasties and fortifying kingdoms, a baby and a boulder at a time. Trees were no trouble to carry in those days, lad. The gods hadn’t thought of them much before, y’see, and none of ’em’d grown much more than halfway to yer knee.”
Errezha: Ugh, knowing Greenwood, he’s probably telling the truth, except for the part about trees (I suppose Elminster just doesn’t want to admit some things exist that are older than he is…).
Calassara: The good news is that everyone is exasperated at this, including Storm. They continue to ride towards Daggerdale for a while until Storm turns around, saying she has other business to attend to, wishes them all luck, and rides off. Or at least she tries too, as suddenly they’re accosted by armed men asking where they’re going, in Lord Mourngrym’s name. Well, since Mourngrym is, inexplicable, Elminster’s friend, I doubt there’s going to be much trouble (unless these men are all Malaugrym in disguise, that is…). But Storm announces herself, and they recognize her and Elminster and let them pass; Storm also calls out one of the guards, Brion, by name. She tells him she’ll be returning soon, alone, and they ride on through the mists. Finally, they come to a halt, Storm says goodbye again (by the gods, this book is repeating itself already) and rides off. For real, this time. When she’s gone, Sharantyr asks Elminster where they’re going, and he says forward; Itharr notes that they’re heading towards Daggerdale, which seems to bother him; Elminster agrees that they are but won’t say anymore, leading Belkram to swear by all the lazy ruling lords (why are you swearing by lords, Belkram? Is that a euphemism for the gods? Or have you decided to follow the path of the people of Razmiran from my own world and begun worshipping your rulers?) that it is indeed Elminster, and the scene ends.
Errezha: We then cut to the Castle of Shadows, where the shadows themselves are stirring with agitation in the throne room as a Malaugrym in the form of a spiky lizard watches a misty scene through a scrying pool (ah, a Greenwood classic! “Wizard scries on things,” how exciting – and no, the fact that the wizard in question is currently a lizard does not make it any more novel). Finally, the Malaugrym, seeing nothing but unable to shake the feeling that he himself is being watched, turns away, feeling ridiculous. Well, he has some self-awareness, at least… A moment later a tentacle touches his shoulder, causing him to start; he whirls to see another Malaugrym, in the form of a tentacled giant mushroom - why – who warns him not to ever let his guard down. The mushroom’s name, we learn, is Bheloris and the lizard is Neleyd; Bheloris shifts into the form of a man with a lion’s head, while Neleyd grows a spike on the end of his tail and watches warily. Bheloris wonders if Neleyd was hoping to catch a glimpse of Elminster; Neleyd thinks spying on him was prudent, and Bheloris is apparently pleased to hear one of the younger Malaugrym be concerned with prudence (ah, if only more people were…). He muses about what a disaster it would be if all the younger Malaugrym swarmed against a superior foe without planning, trusting only in numbers to bring them down, and all got slaughtered – why yes, yest it would be. It’s also, sadly, Greenwood’s villains’ default tactic, so how long will it be before they resort to it here, I wonder?
Calassara: …I won’t take that wager, but I imagine it will be soon. Suddenly, however, a beautiful young woman comes gliding over, sprouting hooks along her arms and a shark’s fin on her head as she comes (… not a look I’d go for myself, but it certainly is memorable!). She says that she’s never heard anything but arrogance from the elder Malaugrym, who do nothing but sit around all day judging the younger while never taking action themselves. Bheloris… is not amused.
“And I have yet to discern anything but aggressive presumption in those younger kin like you, Huerbara, who speak against their elders and find fault with things done long ago, conveniently before such young, bright-browed heroes were on the scene to do things properly.”
Calassara: …well. Huerbara sprouts a spiked tail of her own and warns Bheloris to take care; they stare each other down, until he finally reminds her to heed his warning and turns back to Neleyd, asking if he has any plans for dealing with Elminster. Neleyd admits he has thoughts but no plans, and that he’d appreciate the input of someone more experienced, bowing to Bheloris; this enrages Huerbara enough that she shifts her whole body, sans head, into a giant scorpion and stalks forward angrily. Oooh, I must admit I like her style… rising to the obvious bait, on the other hand, was perhaps unwise… Bheloris simply ignores her (rude, but not unexpected…) and calmly tells Neleyd he’d love to advise him and wonders when they could arrange a meeting to discuss the matter. Neleyd, nervous, says he can do so any time, but feels a need to warn Bheloris about Huerbara (was it not obvious he was deliberately snubbing her?) but Bheloris is genuinely unconcerned.
“I thank you for your regard for my welfare. Would that all younglings valued the resources of their kin so highly. Yet there is no need. The peril you seek to warn me of has the passion but lacks the daring. Observe her. She knows I am older, wiser in the ways of violence, and am expecting her attack. Thinking to awe me, she delayed action for a time … time in which she has inevitably begun to consider the consequences, and probable outcome, of any aggressive action. So it is that she has found she dare not attack, for swallowing an insult is a far less painful thing to do than dying—slowly, and in slavery to the pain and humiliations I can easily visit upon her. However reluctantly, she knows it and thereby takes another slow, unwilling step toward the self-discipline that marks the mature Malaugrym. Perhaps someday she’ll have added enough steps along that path for her to finally acknowledge that self-control is necessary for those of our blood, and further, that she lacks it.”
Errezha: Ugh, convoluted family politics and lectures from condescending elders – how I have missed that. Well, Bheloris makes a fair point, but he does it in such a pompous, long-winded way the effect is rather lost – if Greenwood’s intent was to make him look like an old master among the Malaugrym, he instead seems to have presented him as an old windbag. However, Bheloris never loses his composure, and turns the topic back to Elminster. He warns Neleyd to keep his plans private, lest other, less prudent Malaugrym get involved, mess things up, and lead them all to ruin. Neleyd and Bheloris both digest his words, with Huerbara dwindling out of her scorpion form and into a woman with a serpent tail for legs as she considers the matter. She finally turns to leave, and after hearing laughter echoing from the shadows, Bheloris suggests that they continue their discussion somewhere more… private (yes, why were we playing out this little drama in full view of the public, may I ask?). Before they can, however, the scrying mirror suddenly flashes, and reveals a vision of Elminster and his party riding through the mists of Daggerdale. “Elminster!” came the snarl from a dozen throats. Several younger Malaugrym, who’d never seen the hated human mage properly before, moved right up to the portal to get a good look. Ugh, you don’t have to do that; he’s not much to look at, believe me. One of them calls on the others to strike now and be done with it (you… are aware that this man makes a hobby of slaughtering your kind, and that’s why your master wants him dead, correct? What makes you think he’ll be easy prey?). Another Malaugrym, in the form of a handsome man with a sword for an arm – oh, nice – wonders if it’s really Elminster or if this a trap (give this man a medal, because I suspect he’s correct, from what we heard last time…) while another voice, possibly Huerbara’s, calls all the elders cowards and wonders how any of them managed the courage to approach a human maid to sire any of us…
MG: …yes, this is foreshadowing of some of what the book will have to say later on the topic of Malaugrym reproduction. I’ll save more details for then, but until we get there, I’ll just remind you that Spellfire featured Amarune, a female Malaugrym who had borne children with, it is implied, another Malaugrym as her mate. Just… keep that in mind to compare against what we hear later.
Calassara: Well. I am… terrified. Back to the story, the Malaugrym with the sword arm says he’s been spoken to that way before, but no one has dared do it twice and asks if anyone here now is willing to risk it. A young Malaugrym – not Huerbara – says he is, so the elder proposes a challenge. The youngster can attack Elminster, and if he’s in mortal danger, the elder can use his magic to pull him out. The youngster can’t bring himself to trust Kostil, who agrees that trust among them is unwise; Kostil almost leaves the conversation there until he hears Bheloris quietly laughing at him, then demands to know if any other young ones will volunteer. Finally, the young one, Taernil son of Oracla announces he fears nothing and that he will attack Elminster, and Kostil is welcome to assist – not that Taernil has seen any of the elders wield magic that impresses him. *beat* Really, is this a society of ancient shapeshifters or a bunch of schoolboys on a dare trying to one-up each other? Kostil makes a grand gesture of granting permission, so Taernil charges into the scrying mirror and vanishes. Once he’s gone, Neleyd sees many of the other elders shaking their heads and departing – I know the feeling – while he decides to stay, since he wants to watch the fight and learn what he can. Smart – I’m surprised, considering who is writing this. However, he also spots two of the elders placing wagers. The bets were on how much magic he’d manage to loose at Elminster before being destroyed. Neither granted any chance that he’d survive. *beat* Well… at least they’re aware of the odds?
Errezha: *snorts* For whatever good it will do them. We then cut to Milhvar, he of the cloak from the first chapter, as he summons a portal and shows another Malaugrym named Issaran some spell-stones guarded by magic. Apparently, this is enough to convince Issaran that any treachery against Milhvar is futile, for some reason; Issaran says he’s ready for whatever he’s agreed to do, and Milhvar summons another portal, which resembles the Great Hall’s scrying portal, and after making sure Issaran knows the word to return, sends him through. May you have Malaug’s own luck. Considering Malaug’s luck probably got him blown to bits in the middle of a field in Athalantar and his enemies proceed to have sex while surrounded by his remains… I’m not sure that’s a good thing to have. Issaran vanishes, and Milhvar calls up another portal to watch Elminster and his company, before turning his attention back to Issaran. Milhvar grins to himself as he thinks of how he’s bonded his scrying spell to the artifact that will allow Issaran to return, and so if he tries to destroy it, he’ll only strand himself there. Decently clever, I must admit. He would have been less confident had he been able to see Issaran’s face. At that moment, in the woods of Daggerdale on a chilly morning, it wore the same ruthlessly assured expression. If only I had some context for this maneuvering… but I don’t. I barely know Milhvar, I don’t know Issaran at all, and I have no idea what either of them wants or what the point of this is. Fun.
Calassara: We cut back to Daggerdale, where Elminster proposes they spend the night at the ruins of somewhere called Irythkeep. We learn that they’ve been riding through Daggerdale all day, and seen how desolate it has become after ten years of continuous low-level warfare –
MG: Between Daggerdale’s traditional lord and Zhentarim forces attempting to wrest control of it away from him, if you’re curious.
Calassara: While Elminster, apparently, has ridden along with the attitude of a bored tour guide – so good to know he’s taking this so seriously! Apparently earlier in the day a gargoyle circled them, but decided better of attacking, but beyond that, they haven’t seen anyone. Elminster points at the ruins, and declares that unless a dragon, lich or something similarly energetic has decided to dwell there, that’s our camp for the night. And does the Great Elminster perhaps have divination spells that might alert his companions if something “energetic” is indeed inhabiting the ruins? Itharr complains that it doesn’t look like much. Elminster has this to say:
“A Harper needs no roof nor servants,” Elminster told the sky overhead innocently, “but is happy to sleep under the stars, where the air is fresh, the living earth is closer, and the body has no chance to become pampered and weak.”
Calassara: Belkram grouses that of course Elminster knows that part of the Harpers’ Code, and Elminster admits he wrote it. Oh, ha, ha. I’m quite able to spend the night roughing it, if I must… but I’m quite glad to belong to an organization that doesn’t have proscriptions against things like “beds” and “bathing,” thank you. But Elminster ignores the rangers’ exasperated responses and rides on towards the ruins, while we learn that Irythkeep was once grand but was devastated in the war, particularly when a Zhentarim mage summoned a fire-spitting hydra inside it. Well. That would do it! Now only some walls and a few ragged outbuildings are left.
Errezha: And of course, that’s where he wants to stop. Lovely. Elminster notices some rats – or maybe squirrels – running about, which startle Itharr into drawing his sword. He asks if he intends to show thy manhood and deadly prowess against them (ah, yes, butchering small rodents, that most masculine of activities!) but Itharr just tosses his sword, catches it, and sheathes it with a “no”. So apparently not. Belkram and Itharr dismount ahead, and Elminster turns to Sharantyr and asks well, lass? To which she replies as pouting maidens are wont to say… well, what? *arching her eyebrow* I like to think I don’t pout…
Calassara: *rolling her eyes* No, you brood. And sometimes simmer. Much more dignified.
Errezha: *ignoring her* But I have to agree with the question. Elminster asks what foolish thing she is going to do, and she admits she’s doing it – guarding him. Well… fair enough! Elminster tells her to put her sword away, which she says she’ll do after the Harpers report that the ruins are safe – and reminds him that she doesn’t tell him how to cast spells. Oh, she has a point… Elminster tells him to lash me with that pretty tongue o’thine later, and by the Prince, I worry he means that literally… but Sharantyr does sheathe her sword, just before Elminster vaults off his horse so suddenly he startles it. Showoff. She tries to grab its reins, but Elminster suddenly shoves her off her horse, and then raises his hands, fire flashing from his eyes, and calls on someone he calls a mageling to show themselves. Sharantyr catches a brief glimpse of a black-robed figure hovering in midair, and then eight balls of bright flame erupted out of empty air and roared towards her and Elminster, drawing slightly apart as they came. *flatly* Oh no. This is terrible. Whatever shall we do? Ahem. Sharantyr thinks melodramatically about death she knew she could not escape - girl, you’re standing next to one of the most powerful wizards in your world, you will be fine – and hears the Harpers scream in the distance; is this how swiftly and easily death reaches out to take us all? *she sighs* No, it’s not. See previous comment. But in any case, the chapter ends here, and so learning how Sharantyr inevitably survives this… deadly peril… will have to wait.
MG: Well, this chapter… wasn’t terrible, by Greenwood standards, but it also wasn’t good. Out “heroes” have begun their journey to draw out the Malaugrym, and the Malaugrym themselves have begun their attack, so at least we have that going for us. We also meet several Malaugrym, including Bheloris, Neleyd, Huerbara, and Issaran, who will be reasonably important going forward. But the Malaugrym in general sadly underwhelm this time around; though a few of them show some competence, a lot of them prove themselves just as stupid evil and disorganized as the Zhents or the magelords, and their dry conversations with each other and petty games of one-upmanship make them seem less like a terrifying force of evil and more like that obnoxious person at work who thinks they know better than anyone and will tell you all about why, at length. And the ending of the chapter is just… needlessly melodramatic for an early-book cliffhanger, since it’s incredibly obvious to anyone that Elminster and Sharantyr aren’t going to die here. But at least the trilogy’s actual plot has started now, after a whole book of wheel-spinning. Next time, battle continues, we learn what secret Elminster is hiding (though it’s not hard to guess) and Greenwood succeeds in snarling the timeline beyond all repair. We’ll see you then!
