A great time is upon us, lady, for the People's redemption. We do not do this work for any mortal partisans. What we dare requires elves and others to work in accord to undo the damage of millennia past. I make the request in the names of Sehanine Moonbow and Corellon Larethian.

You know the vows they made when Ivossar's House strayed from the path of true tel'quessir. Hold the badge to your heart if you truly doubt me." Yaereene's face remained impassive, but she placed the gold badge over her heart, and immediately she whispered, "Faer'tel'miir?"

Khelben nodded solemnly and tears flowed over the elf woman's porcelain features. She replied, "Very well, akhelben. It shall be done. We shall be honored to share this burden with thee, ol ahnvae Sehanine." Setting the badge down on the table, Yaereene stood. Tsarra saw the disk also had the Ilbaereth seal on the other side-a pegasus rearing over six wands, a sun surrounding all from behind. From her studies of elven Houses, she recognized that the mark combined elements of the seals of Houses Ealoeth and Ildacer, suggesting a long-ago marriage created the Ilbaereth line; Tsarra bowed to her aunt as Khelben also rose. Yaereene took Tsarra by the shoulders. A growl resonated from above, but she ignored the tressym warning the elf away from his mistress. "A'su'nys, you are half-blood, and our family regrettably tolerates that less than some. Still, you walk beside an honored elf-friend. That alone tells me more than you know. I and others would know more of you in times to come. Malruthiia is sorely missed and I would know her daughter, regardless of my family's views on the matter." Tsarra tried to respond but only managed to nod after her throat swelled up. Tears flowed on both women's faces, and they embraced briefly. As Yaereene dipped her forehead toward Tsarra's in familiarity, Tsarra drew back and cleared her throat, startling Yaereene. "No disrespect intended, osi'nys," said the apprentice. "I wished you no harm from touching this." Tsarra pulled her hair back from her forehead to reveal the gem and tattoos there. Yaereene inhaled sharply. "The Blackstaff provides his apprentices with kiira as well? You must be special indeed, niece. I look forward to learning more about you soon. Even so, when next we meet, politics demand we not acknowledge each other openly. Do not be offended but rather realize that elven ways differ from those of your father." Tsarra nodded in response, guessing that the moments of closeness were only for private times, not public display. "We thank you for your aid, Lady Ilbaereth," Khelben said. "May our next meeting be even more harmonious." He drew his cloak back around his shoulders and donned the hood. They exited the Elfstone's front door out onto the Street of the Sword. They turned south to Waterdeep Way and headed north again.

Tsarra wondered why they went through so much trouble to cover their tracks. Anyone looking to follow the Blackstaff would hardly look at a much-scarred half-orc in a muddied wool cape and a female gnome in red leathers and a bright pink silk cape. Master? Tsarra sent as they dodged two pair-carts, their four drunken noble passengers racing them full tilt around the corner from Selduth Street and down the Street of Silver. What was that meeting all about? And are there any other family members you're going to spring on me? Nay, Tsarra. No more hidden family. Now pick up your pace. We're running from time even with three days to work. Khelben hurried his pace, and even with her half-elf's grace, Tsarra had a hard time keeping up with him. Can you at least tell me with whom we're meeting and why you're in such a hurry? The person's not going to die before we get there, is he?

Doubtful, lass. Khelben replied. She has been dead now for nearly seven score years.

28 Uktar, the Year of Lightning Storms (1374 DR) "Haulaurake, Damlath! Don't hand me that 'You knew everything you needed to know' garbage!" Raegar whispered at his companion. "That sword summoned lightning powerful enough to blast a hole through Blackstaff Tower! You didn't think a power like that was worth mentioning?" The two men turned off Swords Street and into Melody Mount Walk, the tunnel that led to the New Olamn barding college on the city's western cliffs. "Talk to me, Damlath!" "Quiet. I'm concentrating." Damlath said, dismissing his companion. The mage willed his flying carpet to hover closer to Raegar's horse. He'd brought the item back from the city of Llorbauth with him and had ever since refused to use horses for travel. The mare, recently purchased from Fetlock Court, shivered and shied away nervously until Raegar held her in check with leg and reins. Raegar seethed as he stared at his friend. What happened to him? he asked himself. Ever since he returned from Erlkazar in Mirtul, he's been dismissive and almost as mysterious as those we've stolen secrets from. Despite their differences as rogue and wizard, the two men had worked together for three years. The Holy Church of Oghma united them in purpose-both men worked furtively to break the hold some wizards had on secrets and to spread those same secrets by the will of the god of knowledge. Raegar had enjoyed the past few years, working with both the Font of Knowledge, Oghma's grand temple in Waterdeep's Castle Ward, and the dark-skinned wizard. Still, things had changed and their missions had grown more dangerous with each passing month. Damlath had originally come from the south, a small country called Erlkazar on the shores of the Deepwash east of Tethyr. The wizard was a pious devotee of Oghma from the Lore Halls in the city of Llorbauth. He ventured to Silverymoon twenty-four years ago with his wizardly master to work with Sandrew the Wise. When Sandrew began building the Font of Knowledge in Waterdeep, Damlath helped in the temple's building.

Damlath had an acerbic personality that few warmed to, but Raegar enjoyed the edge in his humor, and they worked well together. The younger Raegar had grown up in Waterdeep's South Ward as the son of a stone carver and a sailmaker. His parents died during the undead assault on Waterdeep in the Time of Troubles, and Raegar had been on his own since then. Surviving as a street thief and later a stone carver, Raegar grew bitter at the mages who infested the City of Splendors. He saw disaster after disaster brought down upon them by wizards who rarely bothered to explain to the people what had happened or why. His abilities as a thief-necessities when fighting to stay alive-came back into play as he began niching some scrolls and books from the homes of wizards and selling them. He did that infrequently enough that people never suspected the stone crafter who carved new gargoyles outside their windows was the culprit. When Raegar found work helping to finish the construction of the Font of Knowledge, he befriended some of the priests there. For the first time he found a voice that spoke to his heart in Oghma's teachings. They also confirmed that his mission in life was to honor Oghma in taking secrets from the hands of those who would abuse them and spread the knowledge. For six years, Raegar worked unofficially for Loremaster Gustyl "the Curious," a gnome priest whose knowledge of wizards of the North astounded the young man. The only wizards Raegar could not spy upon, by Gustyl's insistence, were Maaril the Dragonmage and any wizards directly associated with the Wands clan or Blackstaff Tower.

Recently, those rules had changed, and that made Raegar nervous. Three years ago, Gustyl died suddenly, and his responsibilities fell to his assistant Phanar Manthar, a devout priest and disowned lesser son of a Waterdhavian noble House. Phanar introduced Raegar to Damlath, insisting they all work together. Long used to working alone, neither man liked the idea, but together their surveillance and dispatching of Surkhas of Leilon kept the Arcane Brotherhood from claiming the High House of Thalivar and its secrets. By the end of that adventure, the two were fast friends, though Damlath was more than twice Raegar's age. The two were known devout lay members of Oghma's temple, though very few outside of the upper clergy knew the tasks they undertook in the Binder's name. Raegar's musing ended when Damlath cleared his throat and began muttering some incantations. Raegar's grip tightened on the reins. Damlath didn't tell him what he was casting, something that happened more often of late. When the wizard finished, he said, without turning back to Raegar, "Come along, boy. Must remain a few steps ahead of the Blackstaff. Stay close." "What are you talking about?" Raegar asked. He urged his horse forward, staying within a stride of the hovering mage who sat cross-legged on his magical carpet. Raegar's thoughts kept him from paying attention to the tunnel, its interior length lit by infrequent torches, until the tunnel disappeared entirely. Pain lanced through Raegar's head, and he slammed his eyes shut. When he opened them, Raegar saw he'd pulled his horse up short on a muddy track only partially paved with ruined stones. He and the mare stood just past an archway, the wall fallen to rubble on either side of it. Blue and purple sparkles hung in the air around them. "Blast you, Damlath! Never do that without warning me!"