She wants you to take her bait to see what you'll do. Don't give her the satisfaction. "Is our truce at an end so soon, Blackstaff? You surely don't intend to leave us to the mercies of an insulted child?

However shall we prevail against such a foe?" The man's smile reminded Tsarra of an overbold weasel. Speaking in Elvish, Khelben said,

"Neither. Your business here is with me and my pupil, who deserves only the blessings and none of the burdens of such elven gifts.

Tonight has proven more troublesome than expected. I thank you for your help, but hold from insulting each other in the interests of our tasks at hand." "My Elvish is a tad rusty, but I understood enough.

Our agreement stands as discussed, despite the altered circumstances, provided you intend to honor it. You have our word to meet two days' hence at Malavar's Grasp." To Tsarra, it seemed the man either had the greatest confidence in the Realms or he was a fool to talk down to Khelben. Actually neither, Tsarra, Khelben sent to her. Our helpmates here are formerly of the Zhentarim outpost of Darkhold, the mages Ashemmi and Sememmon.

29 Uktar, the Year of Lightning Storms (1374 DR) It took Raegar nearly an hour to work his way up the path to Stagsmere. The night was murky, clouds having covered up the moon.

Because of that, he'd missed the moss-covered and ruined Stagstone the first time he passed it, taking it to be the corner of a fallen stone cottage. Raegar scraped off enough moss to identify the sculpture as a stag's head, once he realized its antlers had long since worn away from weather or vandals. He turned his horse north up a long-unused trail that required him to dismount in places to slash away heavy undergrowth.

The moon broke through the clouds as Raegar approached the manor.

Like its marker stone, Stagsmere had seen better days. The central manor stood three stories tall, off of which sprang two two-story wings on east and west. The entire front corner and much of that part of the western wing's second story had collapsed into a pile of rubble. Raegar couldn't gauge the color of stone in the moonlight, but it was lighter overall, with dark stone forming surrounding porches, jutting balconies, and random details and decorations. On the battlements atop the roof's edge, Raegar noted that a stone stag reared at each corner save the fallen one. The manor house was grand, and its architecture reminded Raegar of some of the older buildings in North Ward, especially the Brossfeather villa off Simmikan Court. He'd have to check that stone shield over the main door, but he suspected he might find the same Brossfeather coat of arms there as well.

Raegar, long used to the sounds of a city at night, listened intently to the clamor around him. Even with winter coming on, many animals croaked, cried, trilled, or howled on the night air, and the rogue could hear other creatures scuttling away in the tall grass, reeds, and underbrush around him. Still, he was glad not to worry about how much noise the mare made in her approach. As he came within a hail's distance of the manor house, he heard shrill, unearthly screams and the sounds of spells in play. While the bulk of Stagsmere remained dark, lights crackled and flashed blue and gold in the eastern wing of the manor around the back.

Raegar urged the mare into a gallop along a gravel path leading around the building. The ground was unsteady on the long untended path, slowing his horse. Raegar drew the Diamondblade with his left hand and was glad to see it wasn't sparking for a change. For that, at least, he let out a sigh of relief as he readied himself for another battle. From the scabbard on his right leg, he pulled his second short sword, a nonmagical one but still a weapon, and he wanted every weapon he had ready. He listened as Damlath shouted out his spells and heard the roar of flames or the crackle of lightning bolts. What Raegar realized he didn't hear was Damlath's laughter-the wizard always cackled with glee between his spells, and Raegar hadn't heard him do that for tendays.

"Raegar, how did you manage not to notice that until now?" he asked himself. He gripped the pommels of his short swords all the tighter. He had to be careful or he might have more than one foe to fight right away instead of a time more to his liking.

The gravel path widened around the backside of the manor, allowing space for carriages and three-horse-wide teams. He didn't need that much room and urged his horse up the steps of the porch that spanned the back of the entire manor. Lights and noise erupted through the long-shattered floor to ceiling windows where the eastern wing met the central house. Raegar leaped off the horse, landing noiselessly, and lashed her reins to the stone railing on the porch. He slipped into the shadows among the window breaks to assess the situation before leaping into it.

Raegar looked into what was once a proud dining hall, but its splendor was long since ruined. Loads of animal scat was piled in various places in corners and along the walls, together with the detritus of leaves and dirt and other natural debris blown through the missing windows. A few rags clung to the walls and window rods, the tatters silently framing the scene within. A long table that might have once seated twenty lay splintered and askew at the long room's center, its chairs reduced to kindling. The cabinets that once lined the walls opposite Raegar to hold china and glassware still retained a few small panels of glass, but most of them had been shattered, their contents long ago looted. Blast marks along the walls and floors and the smoldering remnants of a large cabinet provided mute evidence of a spell battle only moments old.

The acrid reek of various spells and smoke drifting from the room was bearable but told Raegar that Damlath-or whatever he fought-had unleashed many more combat spells than usual. He knew the wizard memorized very few offensive spells unless he planned to be in an unavoidable fight. Usually, his repertoire consisted of many investigative spells and methods by which the pair of them stayed hidden from any potential opponents. But that day, Damlath-or whoever posed as him-seemed spoiling for a fight. Raegar looked through the broken windows and realized the battle had ventured beyond the dining room. The rogue stepped sideways and slipped inside easily, making his way to the nearest door through which he could see crackling golden energy.

He looked into an entry chamber with grand marble staircases rising over Raegar's head to the upper floors on both sides of the room. The chandelier had fallen long ago onto the hard marble floor, its metal construction twisted and broken in places but still holding a few now-dry oil lamps. Damlath stood within the massive round chandelier's center, weaving a blue-green sphere of energies upward into the domed room's center. Raegar had to move forward and through the small hallway formed by the stairs overhead to see Damlath's target.

What hovered in the room's center reflected the energy off its oily black hide, the eyes thick on its front closing to shield themselves from the bright lights. Its two massive limbs stretched apart, and the blue-green energy coruscating across its form collected around the ends of those limbs. At its base, where Raegar expected legs, he saw only a tail, as if the creature was a torso atop a teardrop shape. The creature's three heads all roared in pain and anger, its jaws distended and moving sideways or tipping the head fully back. Raegar shuddered and was glad he didn't have to fight the creature, whatever it was. Its skin moved and shifted, fingers, eyes, and mouths constantly forming and disappearing, keeping the aquamarine energy arcing across its form at all times.