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masterghandalfThis is a repost from Das_sporking2. Previous installments of this sporking may be found here.
Warning: This chapter contains more violence and deaths.
MG: Well, everyone, it’s time to continue our journey through Ed Greenwood’s Cloak of Shadows! Last time, Sylune/”Elminster,” Sharantyr, Belkram and Itharr made fools of themselves around the campfire, and then the Malaugrym quite rudely interrupted by attacking and ruining everyone’s evening. Oh, and we learned some things about the backstory of our pair of intrepid Harpers, including the fact that Itharr is apparently a literal serial killer. Sheesh. Today, battle continues, and it’s the Malaugrym’s turn to face an unpleasant development. Joining us will once again be Errezha and Calassara!
Chapter Seven: Mushrooms and Revelations
Calassara: *looking sheepish* Ahem, I may have… sampled some things during my misspent youth… or more recently… but I really don’t see any point in bringing that up now… oh, this is part of the story? Moving on! According to the timestamp, we’re still in Daggerdale but it’s now Kythorn 16, so I guess the fight last time went on long enough it’s now technically the next day. And so, we open with around forty (ye gods!) Malaugrym hovering above and around what remains of Irythkeep, while one of them cackles about how This is the great Elminster? As they watch the disguised Sylune stumble through the battlefield. A number of Malaugrym corpses also litter the battlefield, but they think it’s worth it. The Great Foe was going to die! Alas, since I know this isn’t really Elminster, and he in fact planned this all as a trap for you… I can’t share your optimism. And when the gods got tired of playing in Faerun, there’d be no one left to stand against the might of the Malaugrym… and at last Toril would be theirs! Now, I think you’re just getting ahead of yourselves. For one, the gods have been banished, they’re not playing – or did you think they all descended to the material plane at once on a lark? For another, even with Elminster removed and the gods losing interest, I can’t imagine you’d be completely unopposed…
MG: Yeah, they wouldn’t be. Even if you assume that some of the “regular” sorts of on-the-ground factions like the Harpers, the Zhents, most nations, and so on wouldn’t be able to resist the Malaugrym infiltrating and co-oping them (a very big ‘if’…) that still leaves major arcane power-players like the Red Wizards, the Cult of the Dragon (and, more to the point, their dragons and dracoliches…), the Twisted Rune, Larloch and his servitors, the devils of the Nine Hells, etc. Not to mention if they somehow ran afoul of fellow eldritch creatures like the Phaerimm, Sharn, mind flayers, aboleths, and such. None of these people are likely to take the Malaugrym’s conquest lying down, and all of them have the ability to register their objections violently. And this list is far from exhaustive.
Errezha: I thought as much. I believe there is a saying about counting one’s chickens… I presume you have such a saying in Faerun? One young Malaugrym fantasizes about blasting Elminster’s upper body away and seeing how long his feet keep moving or teleporting whatever he’s seeking away and making him chase after it, but an elder, showing remarkable pragmatism, instead says they need to kill him now, before he manages to escape. The youngling who’d suggested blasting all but the Old Mage’s feet turned to laugh at the voice, a sneer on his face. But then his form changed, his features holding a moment of shocked disbelief before they melted away into rubbery dun-purple nothingness and he fell away, tumbling helplessly toward the stones far below. *bored* Oh, dear, something seems to be going wrong, whoever could have foreseen this? More Malaugrym start suffering the same fate, and then one of the calls out something about giant mushrooms! So, not the kind you eat, then? *she glances at Calassara* Certain parties will no doubt be disappointed, then. Anyway, it turns out that someone is forcing the Malaugrym into the form of mushrooms and leaving them to… splat… on the ground below. “Some sort of spell to enforce a single shape? Blasphemous! Who would devise such a thing?” Well, considering the Doomstars your ruler wields, and what we’ve already seen from Elminster… is it truly such a surprise?
Calassara: One of the Malaugrym says it must be a spell of Elminster’s and urges the others back, while another whirls on one particular Malaugrym and accuses him of casting the spell, before immediately impaling him on conjured lances that leave his corpse drifting through the air. Well, that was… decisive. But I somehow think it won’t help at all… And indeed, it doesn’t, as the Malaugrym all turn on each other, accusing each other of being traitors and throwing combat spells at each other (such a well-run operation this is…) until a booming voice interrupts them.
“Cease! Hear me, blood of Malaug!” Sudden silence fell. All Malaugrym knew the voice of the Shadowmaster High. “Attend me!” the deep voice boomed on, as a few more Malaugrym melted into mushrooms and fell away. A mighty magic boiled in the air, and the blood of Malaug were swept through the sky as leaves tumble in a gale, flung aside until they found themselves in two ragged groups of a dozen or more on either side of an open space where a lone figure floated, a young Malaugrym sorceress known to some as Dralarca.
Calassara: Dhalgrave declares that she is the traitor – and then his voice is suddenly cut off as Dralarca waves cheerfully. Oh, no, someone I’ve never heard of before is a traitor working against her fellow Malaugrym… am I supposed to care?
Errezha: It would require Greenwood to first master the art of making individual characters distinct from one another, so I would not hold my breath. Dralarca turns yet another Malaugrym into a mushroom, and then all the others attack her at once in a great blast of magic. Blue-black and vivid purple flashes leapt from where they met, and an instant later all of the spells came flashing back at their casters in a gale of tortured air that flung Shadowmasters across the sky for miles. Please. This is getting ridiculous! Once the blast clears, the Malaugrym can see Dralarca hovering unharmed, waiting for them. She then turns another Malaugrym into a mushroom, and by the Prince, woman, there are other spells! At first it was clever, now it’s just getting tired. The elder Malaugrym Eldargh turns to Huerbara, who’s hovering nearby, she and Taernil clutching each other in fright, and asks if she can hit Dralarca with antimagic from this distance. She can, and Yabrant, also nearby, promises to back her up, and asks Taernil to distract the enemy with a spell first. Eldargh, Huerbara and Yabrant prepare an antimagic field, while other Malaugrym attack and Yabrant notes that magic is starting to go wild, so they need to work fast. Oh, yes, after all this battle, only now is wild magic becoming a problem! Who could have seen this coming? And, sure enough, a Malaugrym named Halar is immediately blown to bits by his own spell, the sight of which is apparently so gruesome Huerbara screams and buries her face in Taernil’s side. *she sighs* Why can’t this ever happen to Elminster?
Calassara: Need you ask? But the antimagic field finds its target, and the image of Dralarca disappears; in its place stood a wild-eyed woman whose silver hair danced around her like silver flames. She wore black robes that were more tatters than garments, and she laughed, hand on hip, and bowed to Eldargh. “Well spun, sir!” It is, of course, the Simbul, surprising no one who remembered the original plan. She suddenly summons bolts of red light that twine around her body, the sight of which stuns Eldargh as he realizes what she’s casting (he has the advantage of me, then…). Suddenly the beams of light shoot out, caging Eldargh; Yabrant tries to break the cage, but all he manages to do is get his own arm blown off (which immediately grows back, never fear!).
“Farewell, old friend,” he heard Eldargh rumble, and the giant’s head turned toward him. “You will be remembered,” Yabrant hissed quickly, straining to see and meet Eldargh’s eyes as the giant darkened and shrank within the dimming cage. There were other cages now, he knew, but this web of spells held one of the few kin he cared about, and he could do nothing to save Eldargh. The cage was shrinking swiftly now, as Huerbara whimpered, draining Eldargh’s life essence as it dwindled. It shrank to a thumb-sized globe of light and then winked out, leaving of Eldargh only a little drifting dust.
Calassara: …am I supposed to feel bad for Eldargh, there? Because I almost do… he, at least, didn’t do anything especially evil on-page, he was trying to remove a threat to his people, and that was a rather horrible way to go *she shudders*. Yabrant decides they have to go and he, Huerbara and Taernil start frantically summoning a portal when they hear the Simbul call out a little fire, Malaugrym?
MG: …Greenwood, are you trying to make the Simbul sound like the Wicked Witch of the West? Because if so, it’s working.
Errezha: I have no idea who that is, but I think I’d rather be reading about her than anything Greenwood has produced. But the Simbul starts blasting the Malaugrym with fire, until finally the portal appears; Taernil tries to jump through before it’s fully stabilized, but Yabrant tells him to make sure Huerbara gets through first. Taernil does as ordered, and Yabrant watches to see other portals summoned, though one explodes before it’s fully formed (so interesting how wild magic seems to only hinder the villains, isn’t it?). The Simbul laughs wildly at the sight of Malaugrym blasted out of the air – she should talk to Itharr; they can trade stories of their murders – and then Yabrant dives through after Huerbara and Taernil, wondering at how many of the Malaugrym have died today, and how close he came to joining them, as the scene ends. We then cut to Randal Morn, lord of Daggerdale, as he and his men watch the magical battle in awe from a distance. Which nearly gets them killed, as a stray fireball blasts them over; Bremmur helps Morn up and reminds his lord he told them to use caution, as the brief and pointless interlude ends.
Calassara: I’d hope these interludes with Morn are going somewhere… but knowing Greenwood, I have no faith in that. We shall see! We cut to the Castle of Shadows, where Bheloris says he recognized the magic the Simbul used as soulcages, and that he’s not seen one since… and then Dhalgrave’s voice interrupts, saying they haven’t been seen since Albarat died. Had I any idea who “Albarat” was, that might mean something to me.
MG: This is the only mention of the name “Albarat” in the whole book, by the way.
Calassara: *facepalms* But of course! Dhalgrave continues that he doesn’t dare reopen the portal, since the Simbul has somehow taken control of the antimagic fields cast at her and might unleash it back into the Castle if given a chance. Because apparently, that’s just something she can do now! He then concludes by thundering that we have a new foe, Blood of Malaug! As if that wasn’t obvious to everyone. One old Malaugrym complains that he warned everyone this would be a disaster; another says this is worse than Shimmerglade, which Bheloris in turn clarifies was:
“A place in northern Faerûn—in Impiltur or Damara or somewhere around there—where six of our strongest elders trapped Elminster, and were all slain in spell-battle.” He sighed. “Once again, it seems that a trap intended to be the death of the Foe became a trap for us. Mushrooms! No mouth or limbs to work magic, no way to fly … and death before anything can be done. Worse than that, she has some spell that overmatches our shapechanging, to trap us in a form of her choosing.”
Errezha: *rolling her eyes* Oh, yes, repeat for us about how badly you just lost, and have always lost, against Elminster and his friends – that will certainly cause us to take you seriously as a threat! One Malaugrym says he hopes at least this will teach some of their younger kinfolk not to go wandering off into Faerun, hunting mages or trying to trap Elminster; a moment later, more portals start opening, disgorging haggard Malaugrym (some literally smoking!) into the hall, where they’re sarcastically greeted as conquering heroes of Malaug! Because clearly, we needed yet more reminders of how literally dozens of their kind were effortlessly thrashed by one enemy mage… who doesn’t even seem like she was trying very hard! Kostil comments how he was right about how the Malaugrym always underestimate the mortals of Faerun; Bheloris vows they won’t make that mistake again, while Neleyd watches Yabrant, Taernil and Huerbara arrive and sees the haunted looks in their eyes as they announce that Eldargh didn’t make it. And on that note, as we all the more firmly establish our villains as the underdogs, the scene comes to an end.
Calassara: We then cut back to Daggerdale as the Simbul descends from the sky and happily embraces “Elminster”; she gives her sister a happy kiss as Sylune greets her telepathically. The Simbul then steps back and casts a quick spell, restoring the hair and beard of Sylune’s Elminster disguise, leaving her looking good as new. *beat* Or, well, as close to that as Elminster ever does, which I suppose isn’t very much… Sylune points out that the others need her spells more (I’ll notice you only pointed that out after you let her fix you up…) and that one of the Malaugrym may still be alive. The Simbul runs over to where Belkram and Itharr are lying amidst the… remains… of the Malaugrym they were fighting and goes to work on them, then notes that Sharantyr is already on her feet and comments on how “Elminster” clearly healed the pretty lady first. So… are they still pretending Sylune is Elminster (in case someone else is watching?) or can we take this as confirmation that Sylune also has a weakness for pretty ladies? So long as she isn’t as gross as the actual Elminster, I’ll take it! However, Sylune confirms it wasn’t her; Sharantyr’s ring did all the work.
Errezha: The Simbul then comments that Itharr will be fine and compliments his handsome face *disgusted expression* well, the two of you share a taste for violence, so at least you have something in common… and then she goes to work on Belkram, finally promising that he’ll live, but noting that he’s been raised from the dead many times (how can you tell, exactly?) and wonders if he just doesn’t fear death. *she shakes her head* Oh, you poor, naïve fool – there are things in the multiverse far worse than death! I am the daughter of a diabolist; I know whereof I speak. Sylune, though, only compliments her sister’s healing, and comments that the Malaugrym have a new Great Enemy. Ye’d best watch thy backside. Considering how effortlessly she just handled them, I somehow doubt that will be necessary. The Simbul – apparently still pretending that this is the actual Elminster, unless Greenwood means to be implying… things about this sisterly relationship – asks if “he” means her to watch it as attentively as “Elminster” does himself, and oh, spare me. Fortunately, at that moment the group’s horses come wandering back into the ruins, leading the Simbul to comment about how careless they were with their mounts. Personally, I’m more inclined to be impressed, considering the chaotic spell battle those horses survived. What devil did they bargain with, I wonder? I suppose there are devils in the market for the souls of horses…
Calassara: I could look something up, I’m sure… Well, the Simbul announces that her work here is done.
“That was fun. Yet the Realms around await me, and there’s much to be done, what with avatars and lesser idiots running around stirring up trouble. I must go.” She turned eastward, took a step, and then turned back and pointed up at the fast-fading purple glow. “You need not fear attack from above for a time. Magic’s all too apt to go wild up there, now.”
Calassara: I suppose I’m glad someone is enjoying herself. “Elminster” watches her go, as Sylune considers whether the best course of action might be to return to Shadowdale and regroup – wait, I thought you were trying to draw the Malaugrym away from Shadowdale? But is there even any point to keeping up this deception, when the trap has already been sprung, and seemingly worked brilliantly? We don’t get an answer, as Sharantyr comes up and comments on what a battle it was (yes, you nearly died, messily, huzzah – such things make good stories, but usually long after the fact!) and “Elminster” says she missed the best part – the mushrooms! Greenwood’s never going to let us forget this, isn’t he? Belkram and Itharr ask what he means, and so Elminster explains, again, what we’ve already seen and had explained ad nauseum. Belkram wonders if they died, and so Sylune explained that no, the Simbul healed them, and that she thought Itharr was pretty. Really, we’re just repeating the whole chapter now, aren’t we? Calistria help us… Sharantyr wonders what they’re going to do next, since “Elminster” must be almost out of magic, and Sylune decides they can either return to Shadowdale or go looking for a Harper cache nearby. She explains that they can’t count on any more unexpected rescues (beg pardon, but wasn’t the Simbul’s appearance part of your plan?) but the Harpers have been told to watch for them and aid them (when? By whom?). Sharantyr agrees they need more supplies, and then admits she thought she was going to die… and that’s when someone announces that she might still die, as a woman in black robes bursts from around the corner, holding a balefully glowing dagger in one hand. “For the glory of Bane—die, Cursed One!” Oh, look, it’s… that especially foolish Zhent whose name I’ve already forgotten! She throws the dagger, and it strikes “Elminster’s” cheek as the scene ends.
Errezha: Oh, yes, how I waited for a continuation of the saga of the Dumbest Zhent. *rolls her eyes sarcastically* We cut to behind a wall, where a certain stone pillar suddenly grins and then whispers a spell… and then we cut back to “Elminster,” whose face suddenly looks pale and lifeless, while magic drains from “his” pipe and other magic items (finally!). The rangers draw their swords while Belkram starts shouting about a disjunction; the three of them charge forward, only for the hidden Malaugrym to speak another spell, which freezes in the tracks… not our intrepid trio, but Randal Morn and his men, who apparently arrived just in time to be caught in the spell! *applauds sarcastically* Well done! The Malaugrym morphs from a stone into a man with a sword for one of his hands, listens to the sounds of combat on the other side of the wall, and then draws some pebbles which he casts onto the ground. With terrifying speed, the stones began to grow. The dark forms rising from them had burly arms, tusked mouths, and were … hobgoblins! Okay, that… I was not expecting. The Malaugrym then calls on the hobgoblins to follow him and charges around the wall, his troops following eagerly behind, and the scene ends.
Calassara: We then cut back to Elminster and friends, now surrounded by flickering lights coming off all of their magic items, while the Most Foolish Zhent gloats at them. “When Elminster lies slain,” she cried, eyes shining, “remember that it was I, Arashta Tharbrow, who struck his magic from him—for the greater glory of Bane, whose foremost servant I am!” Itharr comments that Bane must be hiring madwomen now – you’re hardly in a position to talk, Master Compulsive Murderer! – to which Arashta starts screaming about blasphemy. She raises a hand to cast a lightning bolt, and then suddenly goes pale and tries to cast increasingly frantically as nothing happens… until finally Sharantyr runs her through.
The sorceress went down, blood bubbling from her mouth in a last, soundless scream, her mouth moving to shape words that would never be heard. The disjunction swept away the last of her shield as it had robbed her of spells, and with shield and spells went a cloaking wall of shadows, revealing to the rangers a snarling, hooting group of hobgoblins racing toward them across a few paces of open grass.
Calassara: …a victim of her own magical weapon. Why am I not surprised? The hobgoblins charge, and the rangers meet them in battle; we have a lengthy paragraph of melee, and then Sharantyr notices a dark figure standing among the hobgoblins, who then fades and vanishes. We have yet more fighting against the hobgoblins, which is mostly uninteresting and so I won’t bother repeating it; she ends up stabbing a hobgoblin through the eye to protect Belkram, and then her dagger gets stuck in his eye socket, and then we get quite a bit of falling and grappling until the three rangers all end up bunched up together. There’s a bit more fighting, and Then it was over, and they still stood, three panting, sweating, bleeding humans among a confusion of groaning, writhing, or silently sprawled goblinkin. Who expected anything else? Though I’ll have you know, the hobgoblins of my own acquaintance would be disgusted at the lack of organization and professionalism these fellows displayed. But the rangers are interrupted in their triumph by the sound of laughter.
They whirled as one, in time to see Elminster’s body topple in a fountain of dark blood as a black blade scythed through his neck. The blade was held by—no, it seemed to actually be one arm of a tall black figure. The Old Mage’s eyes stared accusingly at them as his head dangled, long white hair firmly in the dark man’s grip. “Futile fools!” the figure sneered, and backed away from them into a whirling green light that was growing behind it.
Errezha: Oh, dear, Elminster is dead, whatever shall we do… except we all know that was not Elminster but a sort of homunculus possessed and animated by a ghost, who will be at best moderately inconvenienced by this experience, so… even if I did care about Elminster, why should I care about this? But Sharantyr has apparently forgotten that she knew “Elminster” was actually Sylune (she almost called her by her real name last chapter, if you’ll recall!) and charges forward in a rage; she throws her sword at the Malaugrym (who I presume is Issaran, considering he was the one pulling the Dumbest Zhent’s strings) but he vanishes before it can hit. No sooner has he gone than she starts weeping (why? I ask you again, why? No one – not Elminster, not Sylune, nobody – actually died! And you ought to know it! Was Sylune’s Elminster suit really that important to you?) while Belkram and Itharr wonder what they’re going to do now, as the chapter ends.
MG: And good riddance, as whatever goodwill the previous chapter built up, this one happily squandered. As soon as the Simbul shows up, the Malaugrym prove to be utterly and completely out of their depth, as she quite handily slaughters her way through a small army of them with minimal effort – and admittedly, she is the powerhouse of Faerun in head-on magical combat, with even Greenwood freely admitting she’d best Elminster himself in that arena, with skills honed through centuries of battle with the Red Wizards, but even so, if the goal is to take the Malaugrym seriously as villains, this scene doesn’t help! Especially when we’re immediately shown how miserable and piteous they all are after getting their asses handed to them (and the book’s barely a third done yet!). And the mushroom bit was initially clever, but quickly grew stale as the Simbul just kept spamming it over and over with hardly any variation. And of course, at the end, Issaran did manage to arrange the death of “Elminster” – but it’s not the real Elminster, and Sylune is going to be fine, so it really makes it hard to take the cliffhanger, or his victory, seriously. And there’s something comical about how Randal Morn and his men showed up only to be immediately removed from play. Good job, guys! Next time, Sharantyr and the Harpers do figure out what they’re going to be doing next… while the Shadowmaster High has an important meeting. We’ll see you then!
Warning: This chapter contains more violence and deaths.
MG: Well, everyone, it’s time to continue our journey through Ed Greenwood’s Cloak of Shadows! Last time, Sylune/”Elminster,” Sharantyr, Belkram and Itharr made fools of themselves around the campfire, and then the Malaugrym quite rudely interrupted by attacking and ruining everyone’s evening. Oh, and we learned some things about the backstory of our pair of intrepid Harpers, including the fact that Itharr is apparently a literal serial killer. Sheesh. Today, battle continues, and it’s the Malaugrym’s turn to face an unpleasant development. Joining us will once again be Errezha and Calassara!
Chapter Seven: Mushrooms and Revelations
Calassara: *looking sheepish* Ahem, I may have… sampled some things during my misspent youth… or more recently… but I really don’t see any point in bringing that up now… oh, this is part of the story? Moving on! According to the timestamp, we’re still in Daggerdale but it’s now Kythorn 16, so I guess the fight last time went on long enough it’s now technically the next day. And so, we open with around forty (ye gods!) Malaugrym hovering above and around what remains of Irythkeep, while one of them cackles about how This is the great Elminster? As they watch the disguised Sylune stumble through the battlefield. A number of Malaugrym corpses also litter the battlefield, but they think it’s worth it. The Great Foe was going to die! Alas, since I know this isn’t really Elminster, and he in fact planned this all as a trap for you… I can’t share your optimism. And when the gods got tired of playing in Faerun, there’d be no one left to stand against the might of the Malaugrym… and at last Toril would be theirs! Now, I think you’re just getting ahead of yourselves. For one, the gods have been banished, they’re not playing – or did you think they all descended to the material plane at once on a lark? For another, even with Elminster removed and the gods losing interest, I can’t imagine you’d be completely unopposed…
MG: Yeah, they wouldn’t be. Even if you assume that some of the “regular” sorts of on-the-ground factions like the Harpers, the Zhents, most nations, and so on wouldn’t be able to resist the Malaugrym infiltrating and co-oping them (a very big ‘if’…) that still leaves major arcane power-players like the Red Wizards, the Cult of the Dragon (and, more to the point, their dragons and dracoliches…), the Twisted Rune, Larloch and his servitors, the devils of the Nine Hells, etc. Not to mention if they somehow ran afoul of fellow eldritch creatures like the Phaerimm, Sharn, mind flayers, aboleths, and such. None of these people are likely to take the Malaugrym’s conquest lying down, and all of them have the ability to register their objections violently. And this list is far from exhaustive.
Errezha: I thought as much. I believe there is a saying about counting one’s chickens… I presume you have such a saying in Faerun? One young Malaugrym fantasizes about blasting Elminster’s upper body away and seeing how long his feet keep moving or teleporting whatever he’s seeking away and making him chase after it, but an elder, showing remarkable pragmatism, instead says they need to kill him now, before he manages to escape. The youngling who’d suggested blasting all but the Old Mage’s feet turned to laugh at the voice, a sneer on his face. But then his form changed, his features holding a moment of shocked disbelief before they melted away into rubbery dun-purple nothingness and he fell away, tumbling helplessly toward the stones far below. *bored* Oh, dear, something seems to be going wrong, whoever could have foreseen this? More Malaugrym start suffering the same fate, and then one of the calls out something about giant mushrooms! So, not the kind you eat, then? *she glances at Calassara* Certain parties will no doubt be disappointed, then. Anyway, it turns out that someone is forcing the Malaugrym into the form of mushrooms and leaving them to… splat… on the ground below. “Some sort of spell to enforce a single shape? Blasphemous! Who would devise such a thing?” Well, considering the Doomstars your ruler wields, and what we’ve already seen from Elminster… is it truly such a surprise?
Calassara: One of the Malaugrym says it must be a spell of Elminster’s and urges the others back, while another whirls on one particular Malaugrym and accuses him of casting the spell, before immediately impaling him on conjured lances that leave his corpse drifting through the air. Well, that was… decisive. But I somehow think it won’t help at all… And indeed, it doesn’t, as the Malaugrym all turn on each other, accusing each other of being traitors and throwing combat spells at each other (such a well-run operation this is…) until a booming voice interrupts them.
“Cease! Hear me, blood of Malaug!” Sudden silence fell. All Malaugrym knew the voice of the Shadowmaster High. “Attend me!” the deep voice boomed on, as a few more Malaugrym melted into mushrooms and fell away. A mighty magic boiled in the air, and the blood of Malaug were swept through the sky as leaves tumble in a gale, flung aside until they found themselves in two ragged groups of a dozen or more on either side of an open space where a lone figure floated, a young Malaugrym sorceress known to some as Dralarca.
Calassara: Dhalgrave declares that she is the traitor – and then his voice is suddenly cut off as Dralarca waves cheerfully. Oh, no, someone I’ve never heard of before is a traitor working against her fellow Malaugrym… am I supposed to care?
Errezha: It would require Greenwood to first master the art of making individual characters distinct from one another, so I would not hold my breath. Dralarca turns yet another Malaugrym into a mushroom, and then all the others attack her at once in a great blast of magic. Blue-black and vivid purple flashes leapt from where they met, and an instant later all of the spells came flashing back at their casters in a gale of tortured air that flung Shadowmasters across the sky for miles. Please. This is getting ridiculous! Once the blast clears, the Malaugrym can see Dralarca hovering unharmed, waiting for them. She then turns another Malaugrym into a mushroom, and by the Prince, woman, there are other spells! At first it was clever, now it’s just getting tired. The elder Malaugrym Eldargh turns to Huerbara, who’s hovering nearby, she and Taernil clutching each other in fright, and asks if she can hit Dralarca with antimagic from this distance. She can, and Yabrant, also nearby, promises to back her up, and asks Taernil to distract the enemy with a spell first. Eldargh, Huerbara and Yabrant prepare an antimagic field, while other Malaugrym attack and Yabrant notes that magic is starting to go wild, so they need to work fast. Oh, yes, after all this battle, only now is wild magic becoming a problem! Who could have seen this coming? And, sure enough, a Malaugrym named Halar is immediately blown to bits by his own spell, the sight of which is apparently so gruesome Huerbara screams and buries her face in Taernil’s side. *she sighs* Why can’t this ever happen to Elminster?
Calassara: Need you ask? But the antimagic field finds its target, and the image of Dralarca disappears; in its place stood a wild-eyed woman whose silver hair danced around her like silver flames. She wore black robes that were more tatters than garments, and she laughed, hand on hip, and bowed to Eldargh. “Well spun, sir!” It is, of course, the Simbul, surprising no one who remembered the original plan. She suddenly summons bolts of red light that twine around her body, the sight of which stuns Eldargh as he realizes what she’s casting (he has the advantage of me, then…). Suddenly the beams of light shoot out, caging Eldargh; Yabrant tries to break the cage, but all he manages to do is get his own arm blown off (which immediately grows back, never fear!).
“Farewell, old friend,” he heard Eldargh rumble, and the giant’s head turned toward him. “You will be remembered,” Yabrant hissed quickly, straining to see and meet Eldargh’s eyes as the giant darkened and shrank within the dimming cage. There were other cages now, he knew, but this web of spells held one of the few kin he cared about, and he could do nothing to save Eldargh. The cage was shrinking swiftly now, as Huerbara whimpered, draining Eldargh’s life essence as it dwindled. It shrank to a thumb-sized globe of light and then winked out, leaving of Eldargh only a little drifting dust.
Calassara: …am I supposed to feel bad for Eldargh, there? Because I almost do… he, at least, didn’t do anything especially evil on-page, he was trying to remove a threat to his people, and that was a rather horrible way to go *she shudders*. Yabrant decides they have to go and he, Huerbara and Taernil start frantically summoning a portal when they hear the Simbul call out a little fire, Malaugrym?
MG: …Greenwood, are you trying to make the Simbul sound like the Wicked Witch of the West? Because if so, it’s working.
Errezha: I have no idea who that is, but I think I’d rather be reading about her than anything Greenwood has produced. But the Simbul starts blasting the Malaugrym with fire, until finally the portal appears; Taernil tries to jump through before it’s fully stabilized, but Yabrant tells him to make sure Huerbara gets through first. Taernil does as ordered, and Yabrant watches to see other portals summoned, though one explodes before it’s fully formed (so interesting how wild magic seems to only hinder the villains, isn’t it?). The Simbul laughs wildly at the sight of Malaugrym blasted out of the air – she should talk to Itharr; they can trade stories of their murders – and then Yabrant dives through after Huerbara and Taernil, wondering at how many of the Malaugrym have died today, and how close he came to joining them, as the scene ends. We then cut to Randal Morn, lord of Daggerdale, as he and his men watch the magical battle in awe from a distance. Which nearly gets them killed, as a stray fireball blasts them over; Bremmur helps Morn up and reminds his lord he told them to use caution, as the brief and pointless interlude ends.
Calassara: I’d hope these interludes with Morn are going somewhere… but knowing Greenwood, I have no faith in that. We shall see! We cut to the Castle of Shadows, where Bheloris says he recognized the magic the Simbul used as soulcages, and that he’s not seen one since… and then Dhalgrave’s voice interrupts, saying they haven’t been seen since Albarat died. Had I any idea who “Albarat” was, that might mean something to me.
MG: This is the only mention of the name “Albarat” in the whole book, by the way.
Calassara: *facepalms* But of course! Dhalgrave continues that he doesn’t dare reopen the portal, since the Simbul has somehow taken control of the antimagic fields cast at her and might unleash it back into the Castle if given a chance. Because apparently, that’s just something she can do now! He then concludes by thundering that we have a new foe, Blood of Malaug! As if that wasn’t obvious to everyone. One old Malaugrym complains that he warned everyone this would be a disaster; another says this is worse than Shimmerglade, which Bheloris in turn clarifies was:
“A place in northern Faerûn—in Impiltur or Damara or somewhere around there—where six of our strongest elders trapped Elminster, and were all slain in spell-battle.” He sighed. “Once again, it seems that a trap intended to be the death of the Foe became a trap for us. Mushrooms! No mouth or limbs to work magic, no way to fly … and death before anything can be done. Worse than that, she has some spell that overmatches our shapechanging, to trap us in a form of her choosing.”
Errezha: *rolling her eyes* Oh, yes, repeat for us about how badly you just lost, and have always lost, against Elminster and his friends – that will certainly cause us to take you seriously as a threat! One Malaugrym says he hopes at least this will teach some of their younger kinfolk not to go wandering off into Faerun, hunting mages or trying to trap Elminster; a moment later, more portals start opening, disgorging haggard Malaugrym (some literally smoking!) into the hall, where they’re sarcastically greeted as conquering heroes of Malaug! Because clearly, we needed yet more reminders of how literally dozens of their kind were effortlessly thrashed by one enemy mage… who doesn’t even seem like she was trying very hard! Kostil comments how he was right about how the Malaugrym always underestimate the mortals of Faerun; Bheloris vows they won’t make that mistake again, while Neleyd watches Yabrant, Taernil and Huerbara arrive and sees the haunted looks in their eyes as they announce that Eldargh didn’t make it. And on that note, as we all the more firmly establish our villains as the underdogs, the scene comes to an end.
Calassara: We then cut back to Daggerdale as the Simbul descends from the sky and happily embraces “Elminster”; she gives her sister a happy kiss as Sylune greets her telepathically. The Simbul then steps back and casts a quick spell, restoring the hair and beard of Sylune’s Elminster disguise, leaving her looking good as new. *beat* Or, well, as close to that as Elminster ever does, which I suppose isn’t very much… Sylune points out that the others need her spells more (I’ll notice you only pointed that out after you let her fix you up…) and that one of the Malaugrym may still be alive. The Simbul runs over to where Belkram and Itharr are lying amidst the… remains… of the Malaugrym they were fighting and goes to work on them, then notes that Sharantyr is already on her feet and comments on how “Elminster” clearly healed the pretty lady first. So… are they still pretending Sylune is Elminster (in case someone else is watching?) or can we take this as confirmation that Sylune also has a weakness for pretty ladies? So long as she isn’t as gross as the actual Elminster, I’ll take it! However, Sylune confirms it wasn’t her; Sharantyr’s ring did all the work.
Errezha: The Simbul then comments that Itharr will be fine and compliments his handsome face *disgusted expression* well, the two of you share a taste for violence, so at least you have something in common… and then she goes to work on Belkram, finally promising that he’ll live, but noting that he’s been raised from the dead many times (how can you tell, exactly?) and wonders if he just doesn’t fear death. *she shakes her head* Oh, you poor, naïve fool – there are things in the multiverse far worse than death! I am the daughter of a diabolist; I know whereof I speak. Sylune, though, only compliments her sister’s healing, and comments that the Malaugrym have a new Great Enemy. Ye’d best watch thy backside. Considering how effortlessly she just handled them, I somehow doubt that will be necessary. The Simbul – apparently still pretending that this is the actual Elminster, unless Greenwood means to be implying… things about this sisterly relationship – asks if “he” means her to watch it as attentively as “Elminster” does himself, and oh, spare me. Fortunately, at that moment the group’s horses come wandering back into the ruins, leading the Simbul to comment about how careless they were with their mounts. Personally, I’m more inclined to be impressed, considering the chaotic spell battle those horses survived. What devil did they bargain with, I wonder? I suppose there are devils in the market for the souls of horses…
Calassara: I could look something up, I’m sure… Well, the Simbul announces that her work here is done.
“That was fun. Yet the Realms around await me, and there’s much to be done, what with avatars and lesser idiots running around stirring up trouble. I must go.” She turned eastward, took a step, and then turned back and pointed up at the fast-fading purple glow. “You need not fear attack from above for a time. Magic’s all too apt to go wild up there, now.”
Calassara: I suppose I’m glad someone is enjoying herself. “Elminster” watches her go, as Sylune considers whether the best course of action might be to return to Shadowdale and regroup – wait, I thought you were trying to draw the Malaugrym away from Shadowdale? But is there even any point to keeping up this deception, when the trap has already been sprung, and seemingly worked brilliantly? We don’t get an answer, as Sharantyr comes up and comments on what a battle it was (yes, you nearly died, messily, huzzah – such things make good stories, but usually long after the fact!) and “Elminster” says she missed the best part – the mushrooms! Greenwood’s never going to let us forget this, isn’t he? Belkram and Itharr ask what he means, and so Elminster explains, again, what we’ve already seen and had explained ad nauseum. Belkram wonders if they died, and so Sylune explained that no, the Simbul healed them, and that she thought Itharr was pretty. Really, we’re just repeating the whole chapter now, aren’t we? Calistria help us… Sharantyr wonders what they’re going to do next, since “Elminster” must be almost out of magic, and Sylune decides they can either return to Shadowdale or go looking for a Harper cache nearby. She explains that they can’t count on any more unexpected rescues (beg pardon, but wasn’t the Simbul’s appearance part of your plan?) but the Harpers have been told to watch for them and aid them (when? By whom?). Sharantyr agrees they need more supplies, and then admits she thought she was going to die… and that’s when someone announces that she might still die, as a woman in black robes bursts from around the corner, holding a balefully glowing dagger in one hand. “For the glory of Bane—die, Cursed One!” Oh, look, it’s… that especially foolish Zhent whose name I’ve already forgotten! She throws the dagger, and it strikes “Elminster’s” cheek as the scene ends.
Errezha: Oh, yes, how I waited for a continuation of the saga of the Dumbest Zhent. *rolls her eyes sarcastically* We cut to behind a wall, where a certain stone pillar suddenly grins and then whispers a spell… and then we cut back to “Elminster,” whose face suddenly looks pale and lifeless, while magic drains from “his” pipe and other magic items (finally!). The rangers draw their swords while Belkram starts shouting about a disjunction; the three of them charge forward, only for the hidden Malaugrym to speak another spell, which freezes in the tracks… not our intrepid trio, but Randal Morn and his men, who apparently arrived just in time to be caught in the spell! *applauds sarcastically* Well done! The Malaugrym morphs from a stone into a man with a sword for one of his hands, listens to the sounds of combat on the other side of the wall, and then draws some pebbles which he casts onto the ground. With terrifying speed, the stones began to grow. The dark forms rising from them had burly arms, tusked mouths, and were … hobgoblins! Okay, that… I was not expecting. The Malaugrym then calls on the hobgoblins to follow him and charges around the wall, his troops following eagerly behind, and the scene ends.
Calassara: We then cut back to Elminster and friends, now surrounded by flickering lights coming off all of their magic items, while the Most Foolish Zhent gloats at them. “When Elminster lies slain,” she cried, eyes shining, “remember that it was I, Arashta Tharbrow, who struck his magic from him—for the greater glory of Bane, whose foremost servant I am!” Itharr comments that Bane must be hiring madwomen now – you’re hardly in a position to talk, Master Compulsive Murderer! – to which Arashta starts screaming about blasphemy. She raises a hand to cast a lightning bolt, and then suddenly goes pale and tries to cast increasingly frantically as nothing happens… until finally Sharantyr runs her through.
The sorceress went down, blood bubbling from her mouth in a last, soundless scream, her mouth moving to shape words that would never be heard. The disjunction swept away the last of her shield as it had robbed her of spells, and with shield and spells went a cloaking wall of shadows, revealing to the rangers a snarling, hooting group of hobgoblins racing toward them across a few paces of open grass.
Calassara: …a victim of her own magical weapon. Why am I not surprised? The hobgoblins charge, and the rangers meet them in battle; we have a lengthy paragraph of melee, and then Sharantyr notices a dark figure standing among the hobgoblins, who then fades and vanishes. We have yet more fighting against the hobgoblins, which is mostly uninteresting and so I won’t bother repeating it; she ends up stabbing a hobgoblin through the eye to protect Belkram, and then her dagger gets stuck in his eye socket, and then we get quite a bit of falling and grappling until the three rangers all end up bunched up together. There’s a bit more fighting, and Then it was over, and they still stood, three panting, sweating, bleeding humans among a confusion of groaning, writhing, or silently sprawled goblinkin. Who expected anything else? Though I’ll have you know, the hobgoblins of my own acquaintance would be disgusted at the lack of organization and professionalism these fellows displayed. But the rangers are interrupted in their triumph by the sound of laughter.
They whirled as one, in time to see Elminster’s body topple in a fountain of dark blood as a black blade scythed through his neck. The blade was held by—no, it seemed to actually be one arm of a tall black figure. The Old Mage’s eyes stared accusingly at them as his head dangled, long white hair firmly in the dark man’s grip. “Futile fools!” the figure sneered, and backed away from them into a whirling green light that was growing behind it.
Errezha: Oh, dear, Elminster is dead, whatever shall we do… except we all know that was not Elminster but a sort of homunculus possessed and animated by a ghost, who will be at best moderately inconvenienced by this experience, so… even if I did care about Elminster, why should I care about this? But Sharantyr has apparently forgotten that she knew “Elminster” was actually Sylune (she almost called her by her real name last chapter, if you’ll recall!) and charges forward in a rage; she throws her sword at the Malaugrym (who I presume is Issaran, considering he was the one pulling the Dumbest Zhent’s strings) but he vanishes before it can hit. No sooner has he gone than she starts weeping (why? I ask you again, why? No one – not Elminster, not Sylune, nobody – actually died! And you ought to know it! Was Sylune’s Elminster suit really that important to you?) while Belkram and Itharr wonder what they’re going to do now, as the chapter ends.
MG: And good riddance, as whatever goodwill the previous chapter built up, this one happily squandered. As soon as the Simbul shows up, the Malaugrym prove to be utterly and completely out of their depth, as she quite handily slaughters her way through a small army of them with minimal effort – and admittedly, she is the powerhouse of Faerun in head-on magical combat, with even Greenwood freely admitting she’d best Elminster himself in that arena, with skills honed through centuries of battle with the Red Wizards, but even so, if the goal is to take the Malaugrym seriously as villains, this scene doesn’t help! Especially when we’re immediately shown how miserable and piteous they all are after getting their asses handed to them (and the book’s barely a third done yet!). And the mushroom bit was initially clever, but quickly grew stale as the Simbul just kept spamming it over and over with hardly any variation. And of course, at the end, Issaran did manage to arrange the death of “Elminster” – but it’s not the real Elminster, and Sylune is going to be fine, so it really makes it hard to take the cliffhanger, or his victory, seriously. And there’s something comical about how Randal Morn and his men showed up only to be immediately removed from play. Good job, guys! Next time, Sharantyr and the Harpers do figure out what they’re going to be doing next… while the Shadowmaster High has an important meeting. We’ll see you then!
