Alias had to cover her mouth to keep her laughter in. Several other Night Masks laughed, but one, apparently their leader, hissed, "Silence," and they all shut up instantly.

"We're in," the leader called up to the roof. Someone above cut loose the rope ladders and slid the hatch doors back over the skylight. He'll keep lookout from up there, Alias realized. She made a mental note to collect him from the roof when they'd taken the others.

The leader pointed to three men, saying, "You open the wagon door and take care of the watchman out there. The rest of you start shifting the wine." Alias put two fingers to her tongue and whistled.

At that signal, twenty halflings pulled back the shutters on their lanterns, bathing the Night Masks in- a bright yellow glow. The Night Masks all jumped in surprise, but lost no time drawing their weapons and turning outward in a defensive circle.

Alias stepped out from behind the crates and into the light. She held her sword at the ready. "If you put down your weapons and surrender, you won't be harmed," she said.

"It's that common she-dog the Dhostars hired," the Night Mask with the sword shouted, advancing on Alias with his blade. "Kill her now and our names are made!"

All around the warehouse, the restraining locks on the halflings' crossbows clicked off. The swordsman halted in his tracks.

The Night Mask leader, a tall, well-muscled, fair-skinned woman, pulled the man back by his shirt. "Lei's be reasonable," she said, addressing the halflings in the loft rather than Alias. Her accent screamed Zhentil Keep, and Alias instantly detested her. "There is more than enough here for all. What say you arrived late, chased us off, and managed to save only, mmm, a third of the shipment? Yes, a third would be reasonable. Or we can arrange to move that amount for you, privately, if you wish to tell Lady Nettel you lost everything."

"You seem to forget," Alias said, stepping forward until she was directly in front of the tall woman, "that we have you surrounded."

The Zhentish woman grinned wolfishly at Alias. "You forget, we have your precious wine hostage." She motioned swiftly with her hand, and, before any of the halflings could react, one of her men slammed his heavy dwarven hammer into the base of the nearest wine barrel, smashing the wood to splinters.

Instead of wine gushing to the floor, only dry bits of wood clattered about the hammerer's feet. In a fury, he smashed at a second barrel. Without warning, the lid of a third barrel popped open, and a slightly rattled Olive Ruskettle rolled out, shouting, "Surrender or die!"

The hammerer aimed a blow at the halfling, who yelped and dived for cover as half a dozen crossbow bolts pierced her would-b* attacker. The hammerer fell to the floor and remained still.

About half the Night Masks threw down their weapons, but the rest dived for the cover of the crates. Six were hit by more crossbow bolts and joined their comrade on the floor. Three of those remaining began making for the halflings in the loft. The first one up the ladder to the loft caught a crossbow bolt and a halfling foot in his face. He fell back, landing with muffled thump.

Alias chased the Zhentish Night Mask leader and the clownish sword-wielder down an aisle of crates. She cornered the pair against the warehouse wall. The Night Mask leader gave the sword-wielder a slap on the shoulder, and he stepped forward to challenge Alias with his blade. He adopted a first-year swordsman's training position.

Alias snarled with annoyance that she would have to deal with this fool while the Night Mask leader was climbing a wall of crates to the loft.

"Now you will die for challenging the true rulers of Westgate," the swordsman announced dramatically.

Alias snorted derisively, but resisted the temptation to run him through. She feinted high with her sword, and when the Night Mask caught her blade on his own she closed in on him and delivered a punch to his belly. Assured that the man wore no armor, she slugged him twice more before he collapsed in a groaning heap at her feet.

Free from distractions, the swordswoman began climbing the crates, following the Night Mask leader.

The Zhentish woman had leaped from the top of the pile of crates into the loft. She was bending over a lantern when Alias came up on her. Alias poked her sword in the woman's back. The Night Mask whirled around, holding a tube of metal with a burning can-dlewick hanging from one end.

Alias froze. She'd never seen the device the woman held, but she'd heard about it. It was some magical explosive made with smoke powder, so simple that even a thief could use one. It could be deadlier than a wizard's fireball. The Night Mask leader backed away until she stood in the section of the loft above the cribs of wine barrels. '

"Kiss your wine good-bye, Dhostar lackey," the Night Mask said with a laugh.

"The wine's not in those barrels," Alias replied with a smirk. "It's hidden behind the crates on the other end of the warehouse."

The Zhentish woman glared at her opponent. She glanced back down at the warehouse floor, where two halflings stood guard over the Night Masks who had surrendered. They'd made the Night Masks lie with their faces to the floor. The Night Mask leader scowled down at her former troops who had surrendered so easily. She dropped the explosive tube down on their backs.

"No!" Alias screamed. "Get behind the crates!" she shouted at the people below. One of the halflings looked up at her with a confused look on his face.

The tube exploded with a flash and a great boom, which rocked the empty wine barrels and the crates in the loft overhead. Smoke poured up from the floor of the warehouse.

As Alias turned around to confront the Night Mask leader, the Zhentish woman smacked her on the side of the head with her hammer. The swordswoman reeled backward and lost her grip on her weapon. Her attacker lunged toward her, dagger drawn. Alias lashed out with a kick, catching the Night Mask squarely in the chest. The Zhentish woman toppled over the low loft railing, landing with a sickening, deadly thud on the stone floor below.

Through the clearing smoke Alias could see Drag-onbait examining the bloody carnage of bodies below. Intent on a prayer to heal a bleeding halfling, the paladin was oblivious to the recovered Night Mask swordsman, who was now sneaking up behind the saurial. Juet as Alias cried out in Saurial, Olive Ruskettle dashed out from behind a pile of crates and smashed the Night Mask on the knee with a hammer pillaged from one of his compatriots. He crashed to the ground, swearing profusely. Dragonbait continued praying over the halfling.

With their leader dead, and most of their party killed- eight of those torn apart by the explosive device wielded by their own leaderr-the remaining Night Masks were easily rounded up and convinced to surrender.

The second halfling caught in the explosion was beyond help from even Dragonbait's prayers. The other halflings glared at their remaining eight prisoners, muttering angrily. Olive had the sense to send the two halflings who muttered the loudest out for the watch, and two more to fetch down the Night Mask on the roof.

Despite the hostility of his captors, the Night Mask swordsman could not resist taunting Alias. "You'll only live long enough to regret your interference in this matter," he declared.

Alias tried to ignore him as she watched the halflings cover the face of their fallen companion.

"You don't know who or what you're dealing with." The swordsman sneered.

Alias whirled around and closed on the arrogant captive. The halflings standing guard over him with loaded crossbows all held their breath, half anxious, half eager for her to hit him.

Alias snatched off the swordsman's domino mask. "I don't care who you are, because I know what you are. An ugly brute who'll stand accused as the accomplice of a dead murderess. Fortunately, I don't have to deal with you. That's Durgar's job." The Night Mask snorted. "Durgar. That old relic can't touch me."