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masterghandalfThis is a repost from Das_sporking2. Previous installments of this sporking may be found here.
Warning: This chapter contains violence against humans and animals.
MG: Well, everyone, it’s time to continue our journey through the world of Ed Greenwood’s All Shadows Fled! Last time, the defenders of Shadowdale had a ridiculous war meeting, Storm and Sylune triggered Sharantyr’s ptsd and somehow determined that she’s in love with both Belkram and Itharr, and Lorgyn and Bralatar acted like bloodthirsty idiots and got chewed out by another Malaugrym for it. Today, it’s time to check in with various of our surviving Shadowmasters and to see just what they’re up to and how much success they’re having in their various schemes. Yay. Joining us once again will be Errezha and Calassara!
Chapter Twelve: Whistling, the Wizard Met His End
Errezha: *icily* Unless the wizard in question is Elminster (who we all know isn’t really dead), I just. Don’t. Care anymore. I want this ordeal to end. Regardless, we open in Sembia, Flamerule 23 with this lovely little scene:
Birds called and fluttered in a wood where moss grew green on old, proud trees, untouched by a woodsman’s axe for three hundred years. A stone wall as high as six men kept errant axes out, for the wood was part of a private estate in the fair uplands of Sembia—an estate that saw few visitors, and even fewer uninvited ones.
Yet one can never be too careful, and trolls may lurk anywhere. So it was that the war dogs Warhorn and Bolder wandered the grounds diligently, carrying two hundred pounds of taut muscle each behind their spiked war collars. Their jaws closed often on squirrels, and they suffered nothing larger than that to live—except men they knew.
Errezha: I must wonder why Greenwood felt the need to specify that trolls specifically may lurk anywhere; they are not, in my experience, the most subtle of beasts, nor are they particularly relevant to this story. And so, we find ourselves in the dogs’ point of view as the catch a scent they don’t recognize – oh, what could it be! – and head off to investigate. Finally, the dogs track the scent to a great shadowtop tree – how symbolic! – big enough to hide four dogs behind, but when they go around it, they vanish. And Greenwood is, at least, good enough to spare us the sight of the dogs actually dying, though not the sound of something thudding into the ground. We then cut to a man in a bloody apron singing what seems to be a love song, badly, as he bangs a gong and calls for the dogs to come eat… but they’re late, and when the “dogs” appear they come running awkwardly, as if they’re not used to how their bodies work (almost as if they’re not actually dogs at all…). The man greets them warmly, wondering if they’ve gotten into some bad mushrooms – I sometimes wonder the same, about Greenwood himself – but as he reaches out to pat Warhorn, he briefly notices the “dog’s” golden eyes before tentacles shoot out and choke him. And once he’s dead, the “dog” quickly assumes his form. As the Malaugrym dresses himself in the servant’s clothes, while checking the body to make sure he gets all the little details to match, we learn that this is Bralatar. And, by the Prince, why have the Malaugrym suddenly started acting like this now, with the last book of the trilogy almost two-thirds done, when they should have been doing this all along?
Calassara: …because a character can be no smarter than their author, and, well…? And so, we cut to Lorgyn as he, still in dog form, crouches atop the dead man’s body, and his tentacles coiled and squeezed, trembling with sudden effort. *stunned* Savored Sting, Greenwood! Is Lorgyn doing what I think he’s doing… oh, no, he’s not, he’s just… somehow removing the bones from the corpse, for some reason? No, I don’t understand, but Lorgyn then takes what’s left and buries it behind one of the trees. Soon all traces of the murder were gone. Why this required the poor man be… filleted… is beyond me.
MG: It just makes me think of the kandra from the Mistborn books, who are shapeshifters who can’t create rigid skeletons of their own and thus have to use the skeletons of other creatures (or specially created artificial bones). Since it’s easier for them to copy a body’s exact appearance if they’ve eaten it, they usually just consume the flesh and use the original skeleton (kandra are, by nature and inclination, carrion eaters). But the Malaugrym… don’t need to do that, so I’m not sure what Lorgyn was doing here, unless he just likes the taste of human bones? *shrugs*
Calassara: …well. That’s rather horrid. But Bralatar, disguised as the servant, goes on his way with Lorgyn the “dog” at his heels, and we cut to another garden, full of quite lovely-sounding statues, where someone named Dorgan Sundyl is currently bored out of his mind. We learn that Dorgan is a guard for whoever owns this estate, that his muscles gleamed with oil and the vigor of his morning workout, oh my, and that he desperately wants an intruder to show up so he can fight and kill him and present the body to his master. Even a little man would do. *arches her eyebrow* But not a woman, I suppose? I don’t know whether to be offended by that or not… but I suppose such bloodlust should only be expected from a Greenwood character, even a minor one. Meanwhile, we’re told the gods are about to grant his wish, as it takes Bralatar several tries before he finds the right key to open the garden gate, and that makes Dorgan suspicious. He calls out to Areld, that seeming to be the name of the servant Bralatar is impersonating and then notices “Warhorn” with him and is all the more suspicious, since the dogs aren’t allowed in the garden. So, Bralatar… pretends to be sick and topples over, and Dorgan rushes to his side, asking what’s wrong. And that’s when something grabs him from behind and, predictably, chokes him to death.
Errezha: And so, we cut to “Dorgan” and “Areld” as they dispose of the real Dorgan’s body, musing as they do that they’ll doubtless have more bodies to hide before they’re through, what with wizards being fond of servants, guards and such. Beg pardon, but did they not even spy out this place first before invading, to determine how many servants and guards they’d have to deal with? Did they just… wander in, hoping for the best? *shakes her head* I am disappointed! They then make their way back to the main door of the place, which is shaped like a snarling human face, with two outstretched hands beneath it to serve as handles for some unholy reason. “Dorgan” guesses it’s warded and “Areld” agrees but shows how they can flatten themselves to fit in around the edge of the doorframe. Which does not set off any wards; once again, so disappointing.
They stood in a high, vaulted hall whose open bronze doors showed another, loftier hall, with a gallery at its far end, and many doors opening off it here, there, and everywhere. To the left, and nearby (by the smell) was the kitchen; the location of other features they could only guess at.
Errezha: The Malaugrym slip back into the forms of the war dogs (why? Weren’t we just told the dogs weren’t allowed in the garden – surely they’re not allowed in the house itself!) and go prowling through the building, heading upstairs since the theorize that wizards like to be up high so as to better lord it over those who are (literally) beneath them. Hmmm; Elminster also lives in a tower, so this theory might have merit. My own experiences in the matter are… inconclusive. Finally, however, the “dogs” reach a window where they spot the actual wizard’s tower, which is elsewhere in the estate.
The tower was ringed by a moat over which tiny lightnings of amethyst hue flickered from time to time—some warding magic, no doubt. The moat in turn was surrounded by a strip of lawn. Flagstone paths led to the edge of the moat, but there was no sign of any drawbridge, and the paths also ran in a great arc in both directions, around the tower and out of view, flanking the walls of a gigantic building … the one in which they stood. “Rich indeed, this wizard,” Bolder growled. “Look: this house goes all the way around.”
Calassara: *blankly* Why is the narration now referring to the Malaugrym with the names of the dogs they’re only pretending to be? Is Greenwood trying to be clever? But they’re left wondering what the best way to cross the massive estate and get to the tower is, and then they spot a man and, of all things, a two-headed panther enter the inner garden, and decide this is their opportunity. Heading in that general direction, they run into two maids – who are, as it happens, confused by how the dogs got in here, so well spotted, Errezha. The maids, however, don’t think to raise any alarm about this, and the “dogs” head out into the inner garden entirely unopposed. *she sighs* Errezha, I’m also starting to share your opinion of the competence – or lack thereof – of everyone involved here. The two of them find what looks like a privy chute *she shudders* leading into the tower, but before they can go up it one of the nearby benches stands up, revealing itself to be a golem; Bralatar, already in the water, finds himself under attack from eels. Bralatar, as one might imagine, just shapeshifts into something with lots of claws and fangs and starts tearing eels apart, before turning into an eel himself and heading up the chute, leaving Lorgyn to fight the golem alone. Not much of a team player, is he? As he moves ahead, he hears a distant voice singing an old bawdy song, badly, and tries to head towards it, but is interrupted as an artificial female voice tells him to turn back as the shaft begins to glow around him.
Bralatar, as one might expect, does not turn back and manages to turn himself into some sort of squid-thing and throws himself out of the chute and onto the floor of what I can only assume to be the privy, with Lorgyn coming in a moment later. *beat* What, we didn’t even get to see how the golem fight ended?! Again, disappointing! They hear a voice asking who’s there, and realize it must be the wizard. Lorgyn laid a tentacle on Bralatar’s shoulder and hissed, “Distract him—those two women in the green tapestry room at the brothel; unclad, holding hands, and amazed at somehow ending up here.…” *rolls her eyes* Oh, yes, because that won’t be suspicious at all… gods, Greenwood really does have a one-track mind sometimes, doesn’t he? But they get into character just as the wizard bursts in, and of course he’s completely taken aback as they start feigning helplessness and wondering where they are. The wizard dragged his eyes up from the ivory curves of her bare body, swallowed, and blinked. “You’re in my tower—the Tower of Mortoth,” he said gruffly. “Er, that’s me.” He took a step into the room. “Perhaps you’ve heard of me?” *facepalms again* Really, now?
Errezha: Yes, really. The other Malaugrym assures Mortoth that pleasing great men is our business – and our pleasure! While showing off “her” nude body… and of course, he’s left completely speechless. *facepalms* Because clearly a paranoid wizard can have two beautiful, nude women suddenly appear in his privy without his first thought being “assassins?” Somehow I doubt that! But while he’s distracted one of the Malaugrym sprouts a tentacle and wrenches his wand from his hand and tosses it aside, leaving him to belatedly shout that they’re rivals. *coldly* Certainly took you long enough. He shoots magic missiles at them, but the Malaugrym are tough enough to take the damage and pounce on him before he can cast anything else; they pin him to the ground and he can feel something fleshy shoving its way into his mouth, and by the Prince, Greenwood, enough is enough! But we cut to Lorgyn and learn he’s gagging Mortoth on one of his tentacles to keep him from spellcasting, and he and Bralatar decide to go ahead and conjure a portal here, apparently as part of some plan they’d decided on previously. Lorgyn chokes Mortoth unconscious and the two of them begin conjuring the portal, placing Mortoth at the base of it. The wizard comes to as Lorgyn withdraws his tentacle while they conjure magical bindings on him instead, but he can’t do anything before his mind is caught in a spell and he’s thrown into some sort of trance, while the portal, which will connect to the Castle of Shadows (surprising no one…) stabilizes.
To use the other end to come to Faerûn, a rival Shadowmaster would have to stand in exactly the right spot in the Castle of Shadows, and utter the secret word Bralatar had bound the casting with. There was a small chance that one of the blood of Malaug might be standing near when the gate formed—it did not become invisible until complete—but in the spot he’d chosen, in a place as large as the Castle of Shadows, it was unlikely.
Errezha: Hmmm; that still seems like a risk. Bralatar is also unwilling to test the portal too much, since they’re powering it with Mortoth’s life energy, and if they use it too often it will run him down faster, and if he dies they’ll have to get another wizard (I can make some recommendations, if you like). The two muse for a bit on how inconvenient it is that the elder Malaugrym rarely reveal the locations of permanent portals they’ve found to their inferiors, and that neither of them has a scrying portal like Dhalgrave’s to make finding one on their own any easier; if they did have one, this entire detour would be unnecessary. Bralatar does think that at least they’re using Mortoth for something, as opposed to all the Zhents and Sembians Lunquar has apparently been killing at the brothel he’s hiding out in (so, was that Lunquar who killed Thuldoum’s apprentice in that brothel a while back? I thought it was supposed to be Atari or Yinthrim; or did Greenwood just get mixed up?) though Lorgyn points out that Lunquar’s stolen a lot of valuable magic in the process. They wonder if there is anyone in Faerun left to challenge them, with Elminster dead, and think Lunquar only cautioned them to subtlety because he’s a loner and an eccentric, to the point of even having refused orders from Dhalgrave himself in the past (and he’s still alive? You disappoint me as well, Dhalgrave – there’s rather a lot of that going around, this chapter!) and is apparently as bad as Ahorga, whatever that means. The difference is that Ahorga apparently does know where permanent portals are, and so he can cross the planes whenever he wants without help, whereas Lunquar can’t. Meanwhile, Lorgyn and Bralatar have apparently trapped all the portals they know of, so no one can use them without their permission… except we were just told they don’t know of any portals between Faerun and Shadowhome, which is why they had to make one of their own just now… gah, Greenwood, be consistent for once! In any case, the scene ends here.
Calassara: And so indeed we cut to The Castle of Shadows, Shadowhome, Flamerule 23 where we find Amdramnar listening in on Bralatar and Lorgyn’s conversation; he’d apparently had his scrying spells set to pick up any time Ahorga’s name was mentioned, but he ended up locating Bralatar and Lorgyn instead. And, indeed, he and Argast did, by coincidence, just happen to be in the right place to see Bralatar and Lorgyn’s new portal appear while they were walking down a corridor (and why did our intrepid pair set it to open in a public part of the castle instead of, say, one of their chambers?), and Amdramnar immediately went to work casting his scrying spells to figure out why. *applauds* Good job, Lorgyn and Bralatar! You’ve just done exactly what you were trying not to do and alerted some of your rivals to your activities! Argast confirms that they’ve now located four other Malaugrym active in Faerun – Ahorga and Lunquar, both operating independently, and now Lorgyn and Bralatar. They wonder whether to set a trap on the new portal or not, but Amdramnar thinks he can figure out Lorgyn’s password, and then they’ll be able to use it themselves whenever they want to. Argast asks if he wants to bring a mate… your lady of the sword back home with them (oh, stop) and Amdramnar just evades the question saying that with all of Faerun before him, he might not choose Sharantyr after all. But we learn that, of course, he’s lying – that Amdramnar does long for Sharantyr and no one else, while Argast has another plan. Apparently, his mother fled the Plane of Shadows long ago and made it to Faerun. She was pregnant at the time, so Argast might have relatives there – and if he does, he wants to find them and try to forge them into a rival dynasty of Shadowmasters to compete with and potentially supplant the main House of Malaug. But they’re keeping their plans separate from each other, and apparently no magic can pry into the mind of a Malaugrym (except whatever Elminster was doing to steal knowledge from their corpses, apparently…) so their secrets are safe. They decide to return to Amdramnar’s quarters while he prepares the spell he’ll need to identify Lorgyn’s password, and the scene ends.
Errezha: And so, we cut to Lorgyn himself, as he complains he doesn’t have the patience to go hunting down wizards for their magic, but at the same time they need to make sure Mortoth doesn’t have any apprentices who might rescue him. Once again, did neither of you scout his household first? For all you know, he’s the most popular wizard in Sembia and a dozen archmages are bearing down on you right now to rescue him and kill you! Bralatar thinks that if Mortoth’s apprentices find him helpless like this they’d be more likely to rob him than anything… have you really not considered they might be loyal to the man? Or at least think that whoever did this to him might be a threat to them, too? Lorgyn, meanwhile, starts wondering if old legends he’s apparently heard about Malaug having left some hidden magic somewhere in Faerun are true; apparently he ransacked Candlekeep (which I don’t think we heard about before this… Greenwood, why?) but found nothing new on the subject there. They wonder if someone may have gone out of their way to hoard all of Malaug’s writings for themselves… and immediately guess who that might be. Elminster, of course! They decide that such writings might be at Elminster’s tower, and with Elminster “dead,” there’s no one to stop them from taking them… and on that ominous(?) note, the chapter ends.
MG: This one was… short, and not terrible by Greenwood standards. We actually got to see the Malaugrym behaving like the eldritch shapeshifters specializing in deception and infiltration they’re supposed to be for once, though the abysmal stupidity of both our Malaugrym duo and Mortoth and his staff kind of lessens it, making it seem less like Lorgyn and Bralatar actually outsmarted him and more like they just luckily ended up being slightly less incompetent than he was. And, frankly, it’s rather late in both the trilogy in general and this book in particular to introduce plot elements like Argast’s missing relatives and his plans for a new Malaugrym dynasty, or Lorgyn hunting for Malaug’s lost writings, especially since, IIRC, neither of them end up mattering much. Still, things could be much worse. Anyway, next time we have more Malaugrym shenanigans as Amdramnar and Argast make their own way to Faerun and run afoul of a baddie faction we’ve not seen in a while, while we also get to peek in on what the “Rangers Three” *gag* have been up to since we saw them last. We’ll see you then!
Also, if you’ve not seen it yet, I have also made an announcement of a personal nature here on my own journal. I would appreciate if people take the time to read it. Thank you for being supportive and understanding!
Warning: This chapter contains violence against humans and animals.
MG: Well, everyone, it’s time to continue our journey through the world of Ed Greenwood’s All Shadows Fled! Last time, the defenders of Shadowdale had a ridiculous war meeting, Storm and Sylune triggered Sharantyr’s ptsd and somehow determined that she’s in love with both Belkram and Itharr, and Lorgyn and Bralatar acted like bloodthirsty idiots and got chewed out by another Malaugrym for it. Today, it’s time to check in with various of our surviving Shadowmasters and to see just what they’re up to and how much success they’re having in their various schemes. Yay. Joining us once again will be Errezha and Calassara!
Chapter Twelve: Whistling, the Wizard Met His End
Errezha: *icily* Unless the wizard in question is Elminster (who we all know isn’t really dead), I just. Don’t. Care anymore. I want this ordeal to end. Regardless, we open in Sembia, Flamerule 23 with this lovely little scene:
Birds called and fluttered in a wood where moss grew green on old, proud trees, untouched by a woodsman’s axe for three hundred years. A stone wall as high as six men kept errant axes out, for the wood was part of a private estate in the fair uplands of Sembia—an estate that saw few visitors, and even fewer uninvited ones.
Yet one can never be too careful, and trolls may lurk anywhere. So it was that the war dogs Warhorn and Bolder wandered the grounds diligently, carrying two hundred pounds of taut muscle each behind their spiked war collars. Their jaws closed often on squirrels, and they suffered nothing larger than that to live—except men they knew.
Errezha: I must wonder why Greenwood felt the need to specify that trolls specifically may lurk anywhere; they are not, in my experience, the most subtle of beasts, nor are they particularly relevant to this story. And so, we find ourselves in the dogs’ point of view as the catch a scent they don’t recognize – oh, what could it be! – and head off to investigate. Finally, the dogs track the scent to a great shadowtop tree – how symbolic! – big enough to hide four dogs behind, but when they go around it, they vanish. And Greenwood is, at least, good enough to spare us the sight of the dogs actually dying, though not the sound of something thudding into the ground. We then cut to a man in a bloody apron singing what seems to be a love song, badly, as he bangs a gong and calls for the dogs to come eat… but they’re late, and when the “dogs” appear they come running awkwardly, as if they’re not used to how their bodies work (almost as if they’re not actually dogs at all…). The man greets them warmly, wondering if they’ve gotten into some bad mushrooms – I sometimes wonder the same, about Greenwood himself – but as he reaches out to pat Warhorn, he briefly notices the “dog’s” golden eyes before tentacles shoot out and choke him. And once he’s dead, the “dog” quickly assumes his form. As the Malaugrym dresses himself in the servant’s clothes, while checking the body to make sure he gets all the little details to match, we learn that this is Bralatar. And, by the Prince, why have the Malaugrym suddenly started acting like this now, with the last book of the trilogy almost two-thirds done, when they should have been doing this all along?
Calassara: …because a character can be no smarter than their author, and, well…? And so, we cut to Lorgyn as he, still in dog form, crouches atop the dead man’s body, and his tentacles coiled and squeezed, trembling with sudden effort. *stunned* Savored Sting, Greenwood! Is Lorgyn doing what I think he’s doing… oh, no, he’s not, he’s just… somehow removing the bones from the corpse, for some reason? No, I don’t understand, but Lorgyn then takes what’s left and buries it behind one of the trees. Soon all traces of the murder were gone. Why this required the poor man be… filleted… is beyond me.
MG: It just makes me think of the kandra from the Mistborn books, who are shapeshifters who can’t create rigid skeletons of their own and thus have to use the skeletons of other creatures (or specially created artificial bones). Since it’s easier for them to copy a body’s exact appearance if they’ve eaten it, they usually just consume the flesh and use the original skeleton (kandra are, by nature and inclination, carrion eaters). But the Malaugrym… don’t need to do that, so I’m not sure what Lorgyn was doing here, unless he just likes the taste of human bones? *shrugs*
Calassara: …well. That’s rather horrid. But Bralatar, disguised as the servant, goes on his way with Lorgyn the “dog” at his heels, and we cut to another garden, full of quite lovely-sounding statues, where someone named Dorgan Sundyl is currently bored out of his mind. We learn that Dorgan is a guard for whoever owns this estate, that his muscles gleamed with oil and the vigor of his morning workout, oh my, and that he desperately wants an intruder to show up so he can fight and kill him and present the body to his master. Even a little man would do. *arches her eyebrow* But not a woman, I suppose? I don’t know whether to be offended by that or not… but I suppose such bloodlust should only be expected from a Greenwood character, even a minor one. Meanwhile, we’re told the gods are about to grant his wish, as it takes Bralatar several tries before he finds the right key to open the garden gate, and that makes Dorgan suspicious. He calls out to Areld, that seeming to be the name of the servant Bralatar is impersonating and then notices “Warhorn” with him and is all the more suspicious, since the dogs aren’t allowed in the garden. So, Bralatar… pretends to be sick and topples over, and Dorgan rushes to his side, asking what’s wrong. And that’s when something grabs him from behind and, predictably, chokes him to death.
Errezha: And so, we cut to “Dorgan” and “Areld” as they dispose of the real Dorgan’s body, musing as they do that they’ll doubtless have more bodies to hide before they’re through, what with wizards being fond of servants, guards and such. Beg pardon, but did they not even spy out this place first before invading, to determine how many servants and guards they’d have to deal with? Did they just… wander in, hoping for the best? *shakes her head* I am disappointed! They then make their way back to the main door of the place, which is shaped like a snarling human face, with two outstretched hands beneath it to serve as handles for some unholy reason. “Dorgan” guesses it’s warded and “Areld” agrees but shows how they can flatten themselves to fit in around the edge of the doorframe. Which does not set off any wards; once again, so disappointing.
They stood in a high, vaulted hall whose open bronze doors showed another, loftier hall, with a gallery at its far end, and many doors opening off it here, there, and everywhere. To the left, and nearby (by the smell) was the kitchen; the location of other features they could only guess at.
Errezha: The Malaugrym slip back into the forms of the war dogs (why? Weren’t we just told the dogs weren’t allowed in the garden – surely they’re not allowed in the house itself!) and go prowling through the building, heading upstairs since the theorize that wizards like to be up high so as to better lord it over those who are (literally) beneath them. Hmmm; Elminster also lives in a tower, so this theory might have merit. My own experiences in the matter are… inconclusive. Finally, however, the “dogs” reach a window where they spot the actual wizard’s tower, which is elsewhere in the estate.
The tower was ringed by a moat over which tiny lightnings of amethyst hue flickered from time to time—some warding magic, no doubt. The moat in turn was surrounded by a strip of lawn. Flagstone paths led to the edge of the moat, but there was no sign of any drawbridge, and the paths also ran in a great arc in both directions, around the tower and out of view, flanking the walls of a gigantic building … the one in which they stood. “Rich indeed, this wizard,” Bolder growled. “Look: this house goes all the way around.”
Calassara: *blankly* Why is the narration now referring to the Malaugrym with the names of the dogs they’re only pretending to be? Is Greenwood trying to be clever? But they’re left wondering what the best way to cross the massive estate and get to the tower is, and then they spot a man and, of all things, a two-headed panther enter the inner garden, and decide this is their opportunity. Heading in that general direction, they run into two maids – who are, as it happens, confused by how the dogs got in here, so well spotted, Errezha. The maids, however, don’t think to raise any alarm about this, and the “dogs” head out into the inner garden entirely unopposed. *she sighs* Errezha, I’m also starting to share your opinion of the competence – or lack thereof – of everyone involved here. The two of them find what looks like a privy chute *she shudders* leading into the tower, but before they can go up it one of the nearby benches stands up, revealing itself to be a golem; Bralatar, already in the water, finds himself under attack from eels. Bralatar, as one might imagine, just shapeshifts into something with lots of claws and fangs and starts tearing eels apart, before turning into an eel himself and heading up the chute, leaving Lorgyn to fight the golem alone. Not much of a team player, is he? As he moves ahead, he hears a distant voice singing an old bawdy song, badly, and tries to head towards it, but is interrupted as an artificial female voice tells him to turn back as the shaft begins to glow around him.
Bralatar, as one might expect, does not turn back and manages to turn himself into some sort of squid-thing and throws himself out of the chute and onto the floor of what I can only assume to be the privy, with Lorgyn coming in a moment later. *beat* What, we didn’t even get to see how the golem fight ended?! Again, disappointing! They hear a voice asking who’s there, and realize it must be the wizard. Lorgyn laid a tentacle on Bralatar’s shoulder and hissed, “Distract him—those two women in the green tapestry room at the brothel; unclad, holding hands, and amazed at somehow ending up here.…” *rolls her eyes* Oh, yes, because that won’t be suspicious at all… gods, Greenwood really does have a one-track mind sometimes, doesn’t he? But they get into character just as the wizard bursts in, and of course he’s completely taken aback as they start feigning helplessness and wondering where they are. The wizard dragged his eyes up from the ivory curves of her bare body, swallowed, and blinked. “You’re in my tower—the Tower of Mortoth,” he said gruffly. “Er, that’s me.” He took a step into the room. “Perhaps you’ve heard of me?” *facepalms again* Really, now?
Errezha: Yes, really. The other Malaugrym assures Mortoth that pleasing great men is our business – and our pleasure! While showing off “her” nude body… and of course, he’s left completely speechless. *facepalms* Because clearly a paranoid wizard can have two beautiful, nude women suddenly appear in his privy without his first thought being “assassins?” Somehow I doubt that! But while he’s distracted one of the Malaugrym sprouts a tentacle and wrenches his wand from his hand and tosses it aside, leaving him to belatedly shout that they’re rivals. *coldly* Certainly took you long enough. He shoots magic missiles at them, but the Malaugrym are tough enough to take the damage and pounce on him before he can cast anything else; they pin him to the ground and he can feel something fleshy shoving its way into his mouth, and by the Prince, Greenwood, enough is enough! But we cut to Lorgyn and learn he’s gagging Mortoth on one of his tentacles to keep him from spellcasting, and he and Bralatar decide to go ahead and conjure a portal here, apparently as part of some plan they’d decided on previously. Lorgyn chokes Mortoth unconscious and the two of them begin conjuring the portal, placing Mortoth at the base of it. The wizard comes to as Lorgyn withdraws his tentacle while they conjure magical bindings on him instead, but he can’t do anything before his mind is caught in a spell and he’s thrown into some sort of trance, while the portal, which will connect to the Castle of Shadows (surprising no one…) stabilizes.
To use the other end to come to Faerûn, a rival Shadowmaster would have to stand in exactly the right spot in the Castle of Shadows, and utter the secret word Bralatar had bound the casting with. There was a small chance that one of the blood of Malaug might be standing near when the gate formed—it did not become invisible until complete—but in the spot he’d chosen, in a place as large as the Castle of Shadows, it was unlikely.
Errezha: Hmmm; that still seems like a risk. Bralatar is also unwilling to test the portal too much, since they’re powering it with Mortoth’s life energy, and if they use it too often it will run him down faster, and if he dies they’ll have to get another wizard (I can make some recommendations, if you like). The two muse for a bit on how inconvenient it is that the elder Malaugrym rarely reveal the locations of permanent portals they’ve found to their inferiors, and that neither of them has a scrying portal like Dhalgrave’s to make finding one on their own any easier; if they did have one, this entire detour would be unnecessary. Bralatar does think that at least they’re using Mortoth for something, as opposed to all the Zhents and Sembians Lunquar has apparently been killing at the brothel he’s hiding out in (so, was that Lunquar who killed Thuldoum’s apprentice in that brothel a while back? I thought it was supposed to be Atari or Yinthrim; or did Greenwood just get mixed up?) though Lorgyn points out that Lunquar’s stolen a lot of valuable magic in the process. They wonder if there is anyone in Faerun left to challenge them, with Elminster dead, and think Lunquar only cautioned them to subtlety because he’s a loner and an eccentric, to the point of even having refused orders from Dhalgrave himself in the past (and he’s still alive? You disappoint me as well, Dhalgrave – there’s rather a lot of that going around, this chapter!) and is apparently as bad as Ahorga, whatever that means. The difference is that Ahorga apparently does know where permanent portals are, and so he can cross the planes whenever he wants without help, whereas Lunquar can’t. Meanwhile, Lorgyn and Bralatar have apparently trapped all the portals they know of, so no one can use them without their permission… except we were just told they don’t know of any portals between Faerun and Shadowhome, which is why they had to make one of their own just now… gah, Greenwood, be consistent for once! In any case, the scene ends here.
Calassara: And so indeed we cut to The Castle of Shadows, Shadowhome, Flamerule 23 where we find Amdramnar listening in on Bralatar and Lorgyn’s conversation; he’d apparently had his scrying spells set to pick up any time Ahorga’s name was mentioned, but he ended up locating Bralatar and Lorgyn instead. And, indeed, he and Argast did, by coincidence, just happen to be in the right place to see Bralatar and Lorgyn’s new portal appear while they were walking down a corridor (and why did our intrepid pair set it to open in a public part of the castle instead of, say, one of their chambers?), and Amdramnar immediately went to work casting his scrying spells to figure out why. *applauds* Good job, Lorgyn and Bralatar! You’ve just done exactly what you were trying not to do and alerted some of your rivals to your activities! Argast confirms that they’ve now located four other Malaugrym active in Faerun – Ahorga and Lunquar, both operating independently, and now Lorgyn and Bralatar. They wonder whether to set a trap on the new portal or not, but Amdramnar thinks he can figure out Lorgyn’s password, and then they’ll be able to use it themselves whenever they want to. Argast asks if he wants to bring a mate… your lady of the sword back home with them (oh, stop) and Amdramnar just evades the question saying that with all of Faerun before him, he might not choose Sharantyr after all. But we learn that, of course, he’s lying – that Amdramnar does long for Sharantyr and no one else, while Argast has another plan. Apparently, his mother fled the Plane of Shadows long ago and made it to Faerun. She was pregnant at the time, so Argast might have relatives there – and if he does, he wants to find them and try to forge them into a rival dynasty of Shadowmasters to compete with and potentially supplant the main House of Malaug. But they’re keeping their plans separate from each other, and apparently no magic can pry into the mind of a Malaugrym (except whatever Elminster was doing to steal knowledge from their corpses, apparently…) so their secrets are safe. They decide to return to Amdramnar’s quarters while he prepares the spell he’ll need to identify Lorgyn’s password, and the scene ends.
Errezha: And so, we cut to Lorgyn himself, as he complains he doesn’t have the patience to go hunting down wizards for their magic, but at the same time they need to make sure Mortoth doesn’t have any apprentices who might rescue him. Once again, did neither of you scout his household first? For all you know, he’s the most popular wizard in Sembia and a dozen archmages are bearing down on you right now to rescue him and kill you! Bralatar thinks that if Mortoth’s apprentices find him helpless like this they’d be more likely to rob him than anything… have you really not considered they might be loyal to the man? Or at least think that whoever did this to him might be a threat to them, too? Lorgyn, meanwhile, starts wondering if old legends he’s apparently heard about Malaug having left some hidden magic somewhere in Faerun are true; apparently he ransacked Candlekeep (which I don’t think we heard about before this… Greenwood, why?) but found nothing new on the subject there. They wonder if someone may have gone out of their way to hoard all of Malaug’s writings for themselves… and immediately guess who that might be. Elminster, of course! They decide that such writings might be at Elminster’s tower, and with Elminster “dead,” there’s no one to stop them from taking them… and on that ominous(?) note, the chapter ends.
MG: This one was… short, and not terrible by Greenwood standards. We actually got to see the Malaugrym behaving like the eldritch shapeshifters specializing in deception and infiltration they’re supposed to be for once, though the abysmal stupidity of both our Malaugrym duo and Mortoth and his staff kind of lessens it, making it seem less like Lorgyn and Bralatar actually outsmarted him and more like they just luckily ended up being slightly less incompetent than he was. And, frankly, it’s rather late in both the trilogy in general and this book in particular to introduce plot elements like Argast’s missing relatives and his plans for a new Malaugrym dynasty, or Lorgyn hunting for Malaug’s lost writings, especially since, IIRC, neither of them end up mattering much. Still, things could be much worse. Anyway, next time we have more Malaugrym shenanigans as Amdramnar and Argast make their own way to Faerun and run afoul of a baddie faction we’ve not seen in a while, while we also get to peek in on what the “Rangers Three” *gag* have been up to since we saw them last. We’ll see you then!
Also, if you’ve not seen it yet, I have also made an announcement of a personal nature here on my own journal. I would appreciate if people take the time to read it. Thank you for being supportive and understanding!
