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I wasn't planning on starting any new stories until I had finished "Deathwalker", but Lady T really wanted me to write this one and it is almost Christmas so Merry Christmas Kathy.


Unearthly gore and darkly gleaming chunks of metal were strewn over the floor of the large chamber. The domed roof had a faded mosaic of trees stretching emerald branches towards the sun in the center and the niches in the walls were occupied by worn statues of ancient heroes. With work, one could decipher the names on the plaques at their feet. Four corridors connected this room to the larger complex.

The lead elf slowly walked through the chamber, a sunrod in one had providing illumination and an enchanted sword in the other. He wore silvered scale armour over grey and dark blue clothes. A green-gray cloak hung from his back. "What did this?" he asked.

Another moon elf, as pale of skin and as dark of hair as the first, said nothing but began examining the floor. He wore dark greens and greys. The examined the carnage. "Devils," he said. "And a pair of machines. Warrior constructs of some sort."

"Who did this?" a blond sun elf asked. The whole party was now in the chamber, a half dozen elves armed with swords and spells.

"No tracks from this end," said the ranger. "The killer probably came in through another door."

"Take your time," said a dark haired sun elf female. "I suspect I already know the answer."

The eyes of the other elves darted to her momentarily and they then went back to their business. "Here," said the ranger. "Tracks that are neither devil nor machine."

"And?" the dark haired woman asked.

"Footprints right for a large human. And a short elf."

"D'Azurentien," said the elf with a sunrod, making the name a curse. "Again."

"I told you," said the dark haired woman. "He and his companions would not fear devils and he covets the wealth and lore of Myth Drannor. It's too close to his lair for him not to raid it."

"It is our heritage the dhaerow bastard steals," hissed the blond sun elf.

"Yes," she said, "although he doubtless considers this place fair game."

"This is intolerable," said the blond. "It must end."

"How?" asked the ranger. "Violence? Against that one? The drow in Cormanthyr are trouble enough. He would make things a thousand times worse."

"There are other ways," said the blond. He turned to the dark haired woman. "You've met him. Advise us."

"He will not lightly turn away from a prize he can grasp," she said. "And Legethes is right. Violence is likely to serve us poorly. There is a debt I can invoke, but he will view it as already paid in part."

"So he might demand concessions," said the moon elf warrior.

"Yes," she said.

"Then do it," said the blond. "Other options remain if negotiations fail."

"As you wish," replied Imizael.

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The cavern was illuminated by columns of crystals set high in the walls. A central column of worked stone, filled with magically excavated chambers, filled the height of the chamber. On the roof of the tower, five creatures gathered. Their bodies were segmented and worm-like, ending in one end with a fanged maw and three humanoid arms and at the other with a stinger tipped tail. Eyes were spread out around the periphery of the maw. Their hide was a dull orange in colour and their eyes were dark jewels. They ranged in size from that of a horse to that of an elephant.

Rasping gusts of wind served as their voices. Here, in this place, they would speak openly and not mind to mind. "The intruders push closer to our demense," spoke the eldest and largest."

"They are strong," said the fourth. "Direct confrontation with either group may prove costly."

"The drow is the greater concern," said the second. "He and his companions may kill more than our minions."

"Agreed," said the third. "He must be dealt with before he knows of our presence. He will desire our treasures and arm himself with magics that can dispatch us."

"His fortress-manse is too strong," said the first. "A preemptive strike at his place of power is not desirable."

"Then we must wait for a suitable opportunity to arrive," said the second. "We must be careful. Scrying is too easily discovered and then we will be undone. Discrete agents must watch him."

"I have suitable slaves," said the first. "It is agreed. Our servants will watch him and report any weakness. Then we will dispatch him." A rustling in the air signaled agreement among the phaerimm.

Imperial Overlord
Best Xmas gift ever!!

Nalifan leaned forward in the tub. "A little lower," he said.

"As you wish, my lord," replied Laerasis as her hands dropped off Nalifan's shoulders. "Better?"

"Yes," he hissed. Nalifan's manse contained more than a few elaborate bathing facilities. The drow was currently in a marble bath tub big enough to simultaneously drown a mid sized family. A pair of crystal sconces filled the room with what humans would consider dim lighting. For the drow it was more than enough. Laerasis was kneeling just outside the tub. She wore a thigh length, sleeveless tunic of dark brown satin and nothing else. "Gods," he said, "that's good, but I really need to get myself some new concubines."

"Hmm," she murmured. "Not a bad idea. You will let me have my way with any I can seduce?"

"I'll consider it," he replied with a grin.

"Do," she said. "Too bad the locals don't tend to go for that kind of thing. Might have to go far afield to find women with the right disposition."

"Truth," he said. "Calimshan or the Moonsea are both within easy reach."

"So is Sembia."

"Sembian whores are so-" a knock at the door interrupted him. "Enter," Nalifan commanded. Derel entered. The human averted his gaze, despite the fact that no naked flesh was in view.

"My lord, there is a visitor at your door of some importance."

"Yes?"

"A woman of your race. She has given her name as Elvarra Desanna."

"Desanna?" Nalifan said, turning his head swiftly. "Are you sure she said Desanna?"

"Quite clear my lord. The name was recognized by others as well. I thought-"

"You were quite correct," said Nalifan as he stood up in the bath. Derel backed away. Laerasis tossed him a towel.

"She could be a minor member of the family," Laerasis said.

"She isn't," said Nalifan.

"You know her?"

"No, of her. There was a lot of gossip about her in Sshameth when I was there. One of the middle daughters and an extremely talented sorceress."

"Oh. This could-"

"Mean any number of things," Nalifan finished. He wrapped a towel around his waist and exited the bathroom. "See to it refreshments are set up and all the usually issues with hospitality. If I have to go to war against the Dread Queen Sheharith and all her holdings I want it to be over a deliberate insult and not a bungled formality."

"Your will, my lord." She broke away from him as Nalifan crossed the bearskin rug and reached his closet. He drew on small clothes and a pair of dark breeches. Enchanted robes of black silk and a brocade over vest worked with spells went over that. Weavebinder and Spellbreaker went on his wrists and elven boot on his feet. A few strokes with a comb straightened his hair and he was ready. He descended towards one of his reception rooms.

Derel guided him to the proper one. Inside was a pleasant room with several couches and chairs arranged around a central coffee table. A tray with two carafes of wine, one a golden surface world vintage and the other a translucent green Underdark wine distilled from fungi. Another tray held cheeses, olives, and sweet meats.

Leaning back in one of the couches was a full breasted drow female of stunning beauty. She wore a low cut tunic of cyan silk and black leather breaches with polished silver studs running up the sides. Golden eyes glittered in a heart shaped face and silver hair fell to her shoulders. He limbs were long and graceful and her build as a whole suggested athleticism. She radiated health and sensuality. A knowing smile danced on her lips. "Do you like what you see, arch-mage?"

Nalifan smiled back. "Couldn't you tell?" he said, sitting down. "You must be used to having that effect on men."

"Mmm," she purred. "Not just men. To be fair, you hid it better than most."

"Thank you. How much of that beauty is what you were born with?"

"Oh, a fair amount. When magical augmentation is within one's skills and budget, perfection is so much more obtainable." She hooded her eyes for a moment. "And how much of your not inconsiderable beauty is a product of magic?"

Nalifan smiled. "Physical perfection has been made somewhat obtainable," he replied. Magics had permanently enhanced him in body and mind. "Did you come here just for a social visit with a man you never met or did you have some other purpose in mind?"

"How pleasingly direct," she purred. "You are a practitioner of high magic, a part of the art that has almost been lost to our race. I have learned the great spells and mastered the high arcana. Only high magic is beyond me. I wish to learn its secrets."

"I'm not the only one who knows those secrets and my reputation must be that of someone who is at the least eccentric if not downright insane. The wizard lords of Sshameth come to mind."

"The wizards of Sshameth will not share their greatest and most powerful secrets with a member of a powerful dynasty that may one day try to take their city," she answered. "And those who aren't drow are even more reluctant to teach one."

"And my reputation?"

"Powerful. Insanely generous, but you do have fabulous wealth and power and do crush your enemies so you must be doing something right. Oh, and you're a genius."

"Thank you," said Nalifan.

"It's actually quite encouraging from my point of view. The master-apprentice relationship can be so . . . tense and I won't have to worry about treacherous impulses coming from you. It'll make things easier on both of us."

"That assumes there will be such a relationship. I have no such assurances of your intent and you have enough family muscle to delude yourself into thinking you could get away with it."

"Only so much backing or I lose face as needing too much help," she purred. "I'm sure I can make it worth your while."

"Are you so sure?" he asked.

"The family doesn't lack for money. Menzoberranzan is a backwater town compared to the Dread Queen's holdings."

"I have wealth. Vast amounts of it and the means to obtain more quickly and easily. Safer ways than taking a widow spider into my house and quicker than the amount of time I would have to take training an apprentice in high magic."

"Hmm," she replied. "Probably true. We have magics that we could share?"

"Unique magics that are equal in worth to high magic?" Nalifan replied skeptically. "Instruments of equal value that your house is willing to part with?"

"No," she replied. "What then will you take in exchange?"

"What price is the daughter of the Desanna willing to pay?" He leaned toward her.

Her lips parted. "I'm sure we can work something out," she whispered and then her mouth and hands were far too busy for words.

WooooooooHooooooooooo! Sex!

Sylvetria cracked opened her eyelids. The space behind her in bed was empty. That didn't surprise her, Trizkel needed even less rest than elves ordinarily did, but she missed his presence. She pulled the furs closer around her and luxuriated in the warmth.

A little later the door to her bedroom opened and Trizkel walked back in. He was holding a wooden tray in one hand. He placed it on the bed stand. The plate on the platter contained a sliced apple, fresh bread, butter, and scrambled eggs for her. Last, but not least, there was a a steaming mug of cider. "Now that's what I call love," she said.

"Well, I was up," Trizkel said with a shrug. "It was easy to do. No big deal."

"Uh huh," she said taking a sip of cider. "Still an act of mercy worthy of Ilmater.

The drow smiled. "If you say so."

"I do. Anything interesting happen?"

"Another one of your neighbors responded. The Halessons will be showing up to the wedding."

"Good," she said. "If I'm not marrying a local, showing off how powerful my husband is fulfills some of my obligations to my family."

"Right. If not marrying someone local, marry someone powerful. And here I thought you just liked me for my looks."

"You do have other assets," she said. "Gods, I guess we have to get the revised guest list to Nal. Although I'm still not convinced-"

Trizkel put a finger to her lips, silencing her. "Nal has a large staff. He can travel to other worlds to find people to help with everything. Big coffers. He's going to be fixing the weather on the day. Let him do it. He knows to keep it light and fun and he can get however many tents and heads of oxen are necessary."

"Alright, if you say so."

"I do. As your future lord and husband I command it."

"You'll need to practice that if you want it to be convincing," she giggled.

"I'll keep that in mind," he deadpanned.

"Good," she said mock seriously.

"I had thought," he said, "that after breakfast we might go riding. Pack a lunch, ride the bounds, see if anything needs handling."

"All that boring stuff you hate?" she teased.

"Not so boring with you around."

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The grey skinned gnome picked up an apple. "How much for this one?" she asked.

"A copper," the street vendor replied. She was a dark haired woman, slender and approaching middle age. She couldn't keep the haggard tone out of her voice.

Kuuni picked up another apple, slightly smaller. "And this one?"

"A copper. They're all a copper," said the woman in an exasperated tone.

Kuuni shrugged and tossed the street vendor a pair of coppers and walked down the streets, happily munching on an apple. Her head was only about waist level for most of the crowd, which was primarily composed of humans, but she was able to move through easily due to attention granted to the extreme eccentricity of her dress.

Her silver hair was long and hung down her back. She wore a black and silver tunic and hose, with a pointed hat tipped with a silver bell. Smoked lenses protected her eyes. She wore snug black boots and a large dagger was sheathed in her belt. Even for Waterdeep, the teeming port city known as the City of Splendors, her appearance was unusual.

She bounced up a set of white marble stairs, tossing the apple core behind her. The pair of guards waiting at the top of the steps looked down in disdain. They wore breastplates and helms of enchanted mithril over sky-blue robes. Swords were belted at their sides and ivory staves bound with gold were held in their hands.

"Hi," said Kuuni as she waved at the guards. "I'm here to see a friend." She darted passed them, a blur of motion. The interior of the temple was more white marble, the a roof painted to resemble a star filled night sky. The moon Selune was at the center of the design, surrounded by her Tears. A small number of benches ended before a font and a raised altar space. Niches along the side were filled with the statues of benevolent arch-mages from the recent and the ancient past. "Oh Kaeryn!" she called out. "Kaeryn!"

The temple was mostly empty, being mid day. A young acolyte in a blue robe approached Kuuni. "Please keep your voice down in the House of Mysteries."

"I'm sorry," said Kuuni in a slightly lower tone. "I'm looking for my friend Kaeryn."

"Lady Kaeryn isn't in the city at the moment," the acolyte replied. "I can get a message to her, if you want to write a letter."

"No thanks," said Kuuni. "I'll find her on my own."

Imperial Overlord wrote:I wasn't planning on starting any new stories until I had finished "Deathwalker", but Lady T really wanted me to write this one and it is almost Christmas so Merry Christmas Kathy.

Should I pester you for a conclusion to your Iron Kingdoms and Arcana Unearthed-inspired fanfics?
Anyway nice persuasion job, Lady T

The Nomad wrote:

Imperial Overlord wrote:I wasn't planning on starting any new stories until I had finished "Deathwalker", but Lady T really wanted me to write this one and it is almost Christmas so Merry Christmas Kathy.

Should I pester you for a conclusion to your Iron Kingdoms and Arcana Unearthed-inspired fanfics?
Anyway nice persuasion job, Lady T

The IK ones are finished, although there is room for more sequels. The Arcana Unearthed ones will probably get some attention soon. Both "Mayhem & Marriage" and "The Face of My Enemy" will be comparatively short and fast to write and after that Nal will probably rest for a long while.

I hadn't understood that "Sins of Commission" was over The ending wasn't clear enough to me
Not that I complain about having more Nalifics, keep up the good work

Kaeryn's so screwed... he set Kuuni after her.

Elvarra was sprawled on her side on top of the bed. She ran her hand over Nalifan's sweat slicked chest. "Not bad," she said.

"Only not bad?" he replied with a raised eyebrow.

"Actually, very very good," she said. She propped her self up with an elbow and looked down at him. "I really wasn't expecting so much endurance."

"But you were expecting the sex," Nalifan replied.

"The possibility had crossed my mind. What does one get the arch-mage who has everything? The one thing he doesn't have."

"I will admit it was very . . . . pleasant," said Nalifan with a smile.

"Liar," she replied, "I'm the best you've ever had."

"One of the best, certainly," Nalifan replied. "I am a little surprised that a daughter of Desanna would employ this particular method to secure my aid."

"I wasn't exactly a hardship," said Elvarra. "And I do want what you can offer me. Having you by my side would be an additional bonus. I'll do what I have to to win." She leaned down and kissed him lightly. "Do you appreciate the magnitude of my sacrifice?" she teased.

"Mmmh," Nalifan murmured. "I might need study the situation, extensively. Immerse my self so I can fully appreciate it."

Elvarra burst out laughing. "I must say you have a most unusual sense of humour."

"It's the surface world," said Nalifan. "Humans are so very different in so many ways. You want to see something funny, you should watch them squirm when someone starts reciting a murder-ballad."

"Really?" she said.

"Really," he replied. "You start talking torture or amusing deaths and most of them will start getting a little green."

"That's a pity," she replied. She ran her index finger over his chest. "So," she said, "why don't you start filling me in on the basics of high magic?"

"You don't waste any time, do you?"

"Why should I?"

He sat up in bed. "A fair point. Unfortunately, I do have some other business that takes priority."

"What?!"

He smiled. "My dear, the teaching happens according to the master's schedule, not the apprentices. And while really good sex with an interesting companion is most definitely appreciated, it is not nearly as hard to come by as masters of high magic. We'll get to it soon enough, but the rest of my life didn't stop just because you entered it."

She scowled, but nodded. "Don't look so glum," he said. "You'll get everything you want soon enough."

"As you say, . . . . master."

"Good. Now put on some clothes."

"I left mine several rooms away, remember?"

"Point," Nalifan acknowledged as he crossed the room. He tossed her a robe of crimson silk embroidered with golden dragons.

"And we could both use a bath."

"That's also true."

"So what are we doing that's so important? Robbing a lost tomb? Plundering a castle that returns to Faerun only one day every hundred years?"

"Organizing a wedding."

"A wedding?" she said incredulously. "One of the greatest drow arch-mages alive today is spending his time organizing a wedding? Don't you have lackeys for that?"

"Yes, but I want to do it."

"Who could possibly be this important?"

"Trizkel. Not that I dislike Sylvetria, but she hasn't yanked me back from the other side of death."

"Yes, I've heard the name before. One of you partners in slaughter for profit?"

"More than just that, but yes," Nalifan answered. He wrapped a black robe around himself. "Coming?"

"To the bath or your wedding trip?"

"Both."

"Depends. How big is the bath?"

"It was built to allow a seven and a half foot tall half dragon to bathe with luxurious amounts of space."

Elvarra's eyes lit up. "Nice. There has to be a story behind that."

"Yes. The short version is that I killed him and stole his manse."

"Very traditional. I approve."

"Thank you," he said. "And with pleasant company on the rest of the errands, I may be in a garrulous mood. There's no telling what I might decide to talk about."

"You know," she said, "if any other male said things like that I could have him flayed. Or just burn his skin off my self."

"Probably true, but that kind of kills my desire to talk."

"You just have to have it your way," she said.

"Yes, I do," he replied. "Now you know how it is for males."

She made a face. "I'm the daughter of House Desanna and an arch-sorcerer."

"Yes," said Nalifan. "And I was an excessively talented princeling. Didn't matter. One of the reasons I live up top despite the awful light. Are you coming?"

She put on the robe. "The bath better be as good as you say it is."

It is like christmas day again!

(Yes, I like your fanfics )

Kaeryn rocked back on her heels, shuddering in the aftermath of having so much power flood through her body. On the blanket in front of her, the child trembled as the stump of his left arm grew. The lump of flesh expanded and developed detail, five stubby bits protruding from the end. It bent and the stubs grew longer. Flesh shifted. The boy gawked in amazement as he opened and closed his new left hand.

"Thank you," said his mother weeping. "Thank you thank you thank you." She embraced her child. Tears rolled down her husband's face and into his beard.

Kaeryn regained her feet. "You're welcome," she said warmly. "I'm glad I was able to help."

The high priestess of Mystra was in a barn, not a church, but that didn't really matter. The Lady of Mysteries touched everyone, everywhere. The straw was clean and she was able to work, that's what mattered. There were a lot of people who needed healing in the Silver Marches. Wounds and diseases left permanent marks on many they did not kill. Too many enfeebled, maimed, or crippled. Those that she could reach in time she could save and restore. It had been a busy month for her.

"Next," she called out. There was a small line of people waiting for her. The next group approached. They were the nobles and they had not attempted to use their status to force their way to the front of the group. In Kaeryn's experience, the warrior-nobles of the Silver Marches were among they few that deserved the title.

Their four men at arms stayed back at the entrance of the barn. The two women helped a man swaddled in bandages forward. A cloaked child walked just behind them. One of the women was dark haired, short, and slim. She was somewhere in early middle age, but wore it well. The other was tall, athletic, and blond. Both women wore practical clothing of thick wool and leather, but the blond wore mail and had a sword belted around her waist. Kaeryn got a good look at her hands as she helped lay the swaddled man down. The blond had swordsman's callouses on her fingers.

Kaeryn began to gently unwrap the swaddled man. "What are his injuries?" she asked.

"He was burned," said the blond. "Sorcerous acid."

Kaeryn winced. Such injuries tended to be horrible. She had seen Trizkel inflict enough of them. "He may very well be in my power to restore," she said.

"Please," said the brunette. "He's a faithful retainer and an old friend." Kaeryn nodded and continued unwrapping. It was bad. The wounds had been treated both magically and surgically, but the damage was still appalling.

"Mother Mystra," she whispered. She turned to the women. "I can help him."

"Thank you," said the blond. "He is the only one of my husband's men who survived. Enhol got him most of the way back home from Westgate, but a gnoll raider put an arrow in his gut before he made it. He died three hours after he came home."

"Gods, Westgate," Kaeryn murmured as she begun the healing chants. So many memories of that city and too many of them grim. Nalifan had laid waste to half of it in order to deny the Nightmasks their power base, precipitating bloody infighting with his allies of convenience over the carnage. She had broken from him there, over too many things.

"Yes," said the blond. "They rode there for revenge and died, accomplishing nothing."

"I did not ask my brother to go," said the brunette bitterly. "I begged him not to."

"Enough Sheana," said the blond. "There is no point in this. Ydrek did what he did. Neither of us wanted it. Now we have to live without him."

One part of Kaeryn's mind followed the conversation between the two women. The other concentrated on the spell casting. It was easy enough to do compared to casting while trying to parry a hobgoblin's morning star. Her chant reached the crescendo.

Skin puss poured out of pits of flesh. New skin covered the ghastly wounds and tissue filled them in. His features became smooth and regular. Pools of fluid filled his ocular cavities and gelled into new eyes. In moments, he was a healthy young man with blond hair. He sucked in a ragged breath.

His hand grabbed her forearm. "Anything I have is yours."

"Do good in this world," Kaeryn said back with a smile.

"I will," he gasped.

"Thank you," said both women, almost simultaneously.

"You're welcome," said Kaeryn. "I was in Westgate when the fire happened. I know how terrible it was."

"Thank you," said the brunette. "There is someone else who needs help. My daughter." She gestured for the child to come forward. "She has fainting spells."

"Let me take a look," said Kaeryn. "Honey, can you put down your cowl?" she said to the girl.

The girl raised gloved hands and pulled back the hood. She possessed delicate features and slate grey skin. Her pure white hair was shoulder length and pulled back. Her eyes were dark and almond shaped.

Kaeryn's mind raced. Revenge. Westgate. A half-drow bastard child. Acid burns. Mother Mystra. She tried to keep calm, tried not to think about whether it had been Triz or Nal that had done this. "Honey," she said calmly, "is it bright out when you feel faint?"

"Yes," the child said softly.

"Always?"

"Yes."

Kaeryn nodded and let the child go. Sheana darted forward and embraced her daughter. "It's the sun," said Kaeryn. "She'll get aclimatized to it eventually, but her drow heritage makes it uncomfortable. Keeper out of the bright sun for the next couple of years, but expose her to it when its cloudy or overcast so she gets used to it. She should be fine."

"Thank you," said Sheana.

"If I may ask," said Kaeryn, "what of the father?"

"Alive and in Westgate, last I heard," said Sheana. "He owned me, before I escaped. He burned the Westgate and my brother, from what I have heard. He doesn't know about me. About her either, I don't think."

"I'll see what I can do," said Kaeryn.

The woman gripped her arm like an iron vice. "Don't do anything to attract his attention. Please. Not if he has so much power. Don't bring him down upon us again."

Kaeryn looked into the desperate woman's eyes. "I will do nothing that will bring harm to you and your family." Oh gods Nal, what have you done?

As I said on LibArc; I think you had Kaeryn make yet another promise she won't be able to keep.

Ooooh that promises to be an eventful marriage ceremony

*imagines pissed-off Sylvetria in her wedding dress, magicking her warhammer and whacking demons left and right*

Mikos was turning the joint on the spit when the door opened behind him. "Hi dad," he said without turning around.

"Huh," his father muttered as he wiped his boots off before stepping inside. The one room cabin was quite comfortable and well appointed, all things considered. A large sturdy bed, a fireplace, table, chairs, cupboards, and shelves.

"The rest of the deer is in the smoke house," said Mikos. "How was hunting?"

"Wasn't hunting. Went into town." Which meant Shadowdale village, half a days walk from here.

"Oh."

"Picked up some things." He laid down a heavy pack. "Saw your mother."

Mikos's parents had dissolved their marriage about the time he had started out on his own. They hadn't been happy for years before that, but they had made it work. "How was she?"

"Good. Don't much like her new husband." Mikos avoided commenting on that. His father tended to divide men into 'real men' and 'softies'. His mother's new husband fell into the latter category. Mikos was a little more broad minded, having gone out and seen more of the world.

"And?"

"She wanted you to stop by."

"I will."

"Good," he grunted and sat took off his boots and traveling cloak. "Almost done?"

"Just a few more minutes. Dad, I'll be leaving tomorrow."

"Huh," Theros said, sitting down. "What's the hurry?"

Besides the fact that I'm no longer sixteen? Mikos bit back. "Wedding. I have to hit the road."

"Well, pay a visit to your mother soon."

"I will."

"Now, why don't you slice me off a bit of that meat."

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A small orange sun floated in a silver sky. Below it, an island of earth approximately two miles in diameter floated in an airborne archipelago that stretched as far as the eye could see. Elvarra looked over the side and saw nothing but more air, clouds, and floating islands. "Hmmm," she said. "Must be close to the Elemental Plane of Air."

She shrugged and turned back to where Nalifan was arguing with a portly human. Most of the island was grazing land that hosted a variety of large herbivores. "These," said Nalifan, sweeping his arm at a clutch of pygmy bison, "are not rothe. I ordered rothe. Do you understand why I am not happy?"

"Nonsense," said the man. "These are Janganese Plains Rothe."

"I didn't order freak, surface dwelling pseudo-bison," said Nalifan. "I ordered rothe. Completely different diet you bumbling human fool. Different taste. They aren't what my cook has had experience preparing and after three hundred years, he's pretty good at what he does."

"Does that mean you're defaulting on payment?" the man asked, his voice dropping into a sinister growl.

"I'm not paying for what I didn't order," said Nalifan.

"I make a lot of deliveries to Union," said the man. "I have a number of good customers. Know a lot of people. You so sure about that?" He twisted a gold ring set with onyx on his left hand.

"Clearly customer satisfaction is not part of your business model," said Nalifan. "Not really that surprising considering your cornered your part of the business through racketeering. And as for your friends in Union, tell them to get back to me after they've killed a demi-lich. Now, are you going to get me some nice subterranean surface rothe, complete with magical abilities and a moss and fungi heavy diet or is this going to get nasty?" Azure lightning flashed around the fingers of his right hand. "I'm a drow arch-necromancer. I can do nasty."

The man considered the proposition and then said, "perhaps we can come to an agreement."

"Perhaps," said Nalifan. "I'm listening. And if you fuck me, there isn't a corner of the multiverse you can from me. Just to be clear about that." He smiled, showing very white teeth. "Trust me on that. Or find out for yourself. Either way, I'll get some sort of satisfaction."

And I thought getting my wedding catered was hard .......

The couple themselves has it easy. All they had to do was ask Nal.

White Haven wrote:The couple themselves has it easy. All they had to do was ask Nal.

As I recall, you were supposed to get the CD of music to the wedding......

Kaeryn leaned against the side of the barn. Mother Mystra, she was tired. She hadn't been able to treat everyone, there was only so much power should could channel through her flesh, but she had helped nearly a score of people. The rest would have to wait for tomorrow, but that wasn't what haunted her.

Oh gods Nal, she though. What in Baator's name was she going to do about this mess? The daughter, she thought. The daughter comes first. If she wants to know her father when she's older, that's her right. Right now she has a family that can take care of her until then. And introducing Nal to the situation could just make everything worse.

It was a well reasoned solution. Morally correct. Why did it hurt so much to contemplate? Because Nal thinks you betrayed him and you're not sure your decision back in Westgate was the right one, she thought. If you had stayed by his side you might have convinced him to use less destructive methods. And now you're keeping more secrets from him. It's the right thing to do, but I'm siding against him. Again.

"Kaeryn?" said a voice from off to the side. She turned to see a golden skinned sun elf with long black hair walking towards her. She wore white breeches and a blue and silver tunic under a dark green cloak. Kaeryn straightened.

"Imizael?" said Kaeryn in surprise. The two women embraced. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," said the high mage. "Can we talk?"

"Sure," said Kaeryn. "Let's go for a walk in the field." Imizael matched Kaeryn's stride as they moved away from the farmstead, towards the grazing land. It was a warm summer day and a cool wind stirred the long grass. "What is it?"

"It's about Nalifan."

"Oh merciful gods," said Kaeryn. Imizael stared at her. "He's been on my mind. Continue."

"Alright. I am involved in an effort to retake Myth Drannor and combat the drow in Comanthor. We're enjoying a lot more success than we expected in Myth Drannor. Fewer devils, monsters, and traps than we expected."

"Let me guess," said Kaeryn. "Many of the treasures seem to have been recently looted."

"Yes. There's plenty of evidence regarding the identity of the freelance raiders. It's Nalifan."

"It doesn't sound that bad," said Kaeryn. "He's reducing the price you'll have to pay in blood to reclaim Myth Drannor."

Imizael scowled. "At the price of losing priceless artifacts of Cormanthyr to his hands. Some of the them," she paused, "some of them cannot be allowed to fall into any unworthy hands." Her eyes blazed.

"He already has the power to cause a lot of damage if he so wishes," said Kaeryn. "There's not much that can make him more of a threat than he already is."

"That is true of most things," Imizael agreed without enthusiasm, "but not everything. There are things I cannot speak of, but yes they would make him much, much worse."

"What do you want from me?"

"Your knowledge. I need a way to approach him so that he'll be receptive to my proposal."

Kaeryn furrowed her brow. "You just want to talk with him?"

"Violence is unlikely to produce the desired results, even if we win. So yes, talk. You know him better than anyone else I can call upon."

"Let me think about it," said Kaeryn. "I'll contact you when I have a good idea."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

The high mage whispered a view words and vanished in a flash of light followed by a dull boom, leaving Kaeryn standing alone in the field. "Mother Mystra, give me wisdom," the high priestess whispered.

Kaeryn's gonna need a Wis Boost, Detect Traps, and Clarvoyance just to get through this mess

A chill wind swept through the high grass of the meadow before rebounding as if it had hit an invisible wall. A keen eyed observer would be able to make out a heat shimmer about the size of a house where the wind rebounded. A leg in red enameled plate stepped through and then the rest of the warrior followed. More warriors followed.

Their armour was red, although the decorations differed. The leader's armour bore snarling lion heads on knees, elbows, chest, and roundels. His helm was formed in imitation of a lion's head. The one behind him wore armour marked in such a fashion to resemble the scales of dragon hide. Red boars, red wolves, and more cats followed in their wake. In their hands, hanging from their belts, and upon their backs they bore a variety of weapons, not all of them recognizable as such.

The portal faded after the last warrior came through, leaving five score fighting men standing in the tall grass. Sylvetria rode to their leader. He saluted her, gauntlet slamming against his breastplate. "Lady Sylvetria Targonese, I am Rolthar, Captain of the Red Sky Company. My sworn brothers and I have been contracted to take service with you by Nalifan D'Azurentien."

She slid off her horse. "Welcome to the lands of my house," she replied. She gestured to the rider beside her as she stepped forward. "This is my husband to be Trizkel."

"My lord," said Rolthar, inclining his head respectfully. "My lady, my sworn brothers are at your disposal. We were informed that we were to help keep the peace and protect a wedding party."

"That is indeed the case captain," she replied. "There are a few old quarrels amongst my guests. Most of them have fallen to the wayside, but some fool will surely drink too much and they might resurface."

"I understand my lady."

"Also this land is not free of peril and the wedding party will be taking place here. It will be somewhat exposed. I do not think we will be attacked, but strong guards who are sober would be better than not."

"I understand my lady. On all the worlds I have traveled and all the lands of men I have served on, weddings are sacred but there is nothing so sacred that none will think of violating it. We serve for coin, my lady, but there are enough wars in the multiverse that we can particular about who we work for."

"And that includes drow arch-mages?"

"He has a reputation and paid upfront. If he was lying about guarding a wedding, we could walk away with the coin and our honor intact."

Trizkel smiled and slid off his horse. "Sounds like Nal."

"Really?" said Sylvetria. "What if they had taken his coin and never shown up."

"They're still alive aren't they?" said Trizkel. "Besides, these guys have a reputation to protect."

"Indeed," said Rolthar. "Our swords are for sale, not our honor. Not at any price."

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The blond gnome nodded and continued moving a gold coin over the fingers of his left hand. Subtle magics kept the din of the crowds out of the tent as the he entertained the pair of drow. "We can do what you ask, but you'll have to provide the transportation. And it will cost you."

Nalifan looked across the table at the smooth tongued mage. The gnome was wore a dark brown long coat of wyvern hide over a red silk shirt and worn black breeches. Gold rings glittered on his fingers and silver pierced his ears. Ivory beads were threaded on a gold wire hanging from his neck and a dagger with a foot long blade and a aquamarine studded hilt hung from his waist. "The first," said Nalifan, "is easy. The second is a matter of discussion."

"There are expenses," said the gnome. "And time involved. Arrival, set up, performances, take down, and departure. We should not forget the issue of supplies nor that you are asking us to depart for the other side of Faerun. A strange, cold-"

"It won't be cold," said Nalifan. "It's summer and I'll be seeing to the weather."

"-foreign, dangerous region," continued the gnome as if he hadn't be corrected, "with strange gods, barberous customs and language."

"They speak Common," said Nalifan. "Some of them speak it better than you do. Don't try to drive the price up."

"Can't blame a man for trying to make an honest living."

"Since when have you tried to make an honest living?" Nalifan asked.

Elvarra laughed. "He's got you there, little man."

"You wound me, my lord. I am an honest tradesmen, trying to scratch out a living while paying the wages of honest entertainers. Coins slip through my fingers and leave my purse empty. I am not a high born lady or dread arch-mage, to command the obedience of others with merely a word."

"If that were true," said Nalifan, "you wouldn't wear a prince's ransom."

"Clever fakes, my lord. Trickster's tricks."

Nalifan smiled. "I know better. They are real. Now I don't expect you to be cheap, but I'm annoyed by this false pleading of poverty. It makes me think you think I'm a fool Lymasen."

"Ahh, we wouldn't want that," said the gnome. "It would be discourteous. Shall we say a hundred weight in platinum for my entire troupe, our tents and gear, and every trick in my arsenal?"

"Agreed," said Nalifan. He counted out coins. "Payment in advance. I'll see you around."

"Transportation?" asked Lymasen.

"Will be taken care of," said Nalifan standing up. "Good day sir." He exited the tent, Elvarra keeping pace with him. The fair grounds were teaming with humans barely gave the drow a second look. On this day they had seen things much more fearsome and exotic.

"You paid him upfront?"

"People don't trust drow, even those with good references. Besides, he cheats me and I can hunt him down and kill him. That's the flip side. And everything costs more." A caged manticore growled at the drow as they passed. Neither of them paid it any attention.

"I noticed. You throw money around like a drunken rake with a platinum mine and twenty four hours to live."

"It's only money," said Nalifan with a shrug. "I can always kill another dragon." Nearby a beastmaster commanded a rust red, five headed hydra to exhale rings of flame into the sky for the entertainment of the gathered crowd. Children screeched in delight. Copper and silver coins were tossed at his feet.

"That can get you killed."

"I have a few tricks."

"Tricks are nice," she said. "Brute force is better."

"That so?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied. She punched the sky with her fist and shouted. A torrent of azure flame poured forth, stabbing at the sky. Faces of demons could be seen screaming in the flames and scarlet lightning girded the column of fire. Thunder boomed, almost deafening the onlookers. Beasts roared in dismay. The fires died. "Always carry the biggest stick."

"Then why come to me?" he said with a smile while inwardly his guts were turning. He could not have matched that display of power, short of high magic. The rumors did not do her strength justice. She was stronger than he was. "Why bother with my tricks?"

"Because high magic gives you the biggest stick of all."

Nalifan smiled and crossed his arms, ringing out a tone as Weavebinder smacked against Spellbreaker. "The thing about brute strength," Nalifan said, "is that you don't always have the most. With enough skill and cunning, you only need just enough strength to see it through."

"That reeks of weakness."

"We are elves," Nalifan said. "Our bodies do not have the strength of ogres or giants or the build of orcs or dwarves and yet we are their superiors. Brute strength has its place, but strength married to skill and intellect is far superior." He slipped his arm into hers. "Let me tell you the story of how I came to possess high magic and you can give me your opinions afterwards."

The phaerimm gathered again in a chamber of rough natural stone. A pool of frozen mercury on the floor acted as a mirror. The third eldest spoke with a voice of rustling wind. "He has left his stronghold, but moves quickly. Continuing to track him has proven difficult."

"It does not matter," said the eldest. "We know where he will be. His associates are gathering far from his stronghold. He will inevitably join them."

"And we can eliminate all of them in one stroke," said the second youngest.

"Yes," said the second eldest, "but they are not easy prey." He pointed at the image in the mirror. "His companions are not alone."

"The guards are merely humanoids," said the second youngest.

"So is he," said the second eldest. "Not all humanoids are weak." Unspoken was the ancient history of their race. Their race's true origin lay in the frothing, primeval chaos of the birth of the multiverse, but not all the phaerimm were descended from those ancient ancestors. Magi defeated by ancient Netheril had worked torturous spells to make themselves into phaerimm in order of secure their revenge against those who had destroyed their nation and the artificer-lords of lost Imaskar had created phaerimm in their labs for their own purposes. The eldest phaerimm remembered that a few humanoids could rival or exceed their strength. Ones like Nalifan D'Azurentien.

"We will gather powerful servants," said the eldest, ending discussion. "They will slaughter his guards, his companions, and strain his defences without us casting a single spell. Then, when much of his strength is spent, we will crack him like an egg."

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Kaeryn felt a sharp tug on her cloak. She turned around to see Kuuni, wearing something that resembled a fool's motley. "Hi Kaeryn," said the deep gnome shyly.

"Hello Kuuni," said Kaeryn cautiously. The svirfneblin was an erratic and impulsive trickster, a trouble magnet unrivaled by anyone she had ever met. "How did you find me?"

"Oh, this and that," said Kuuni. She shifted from foot to foo, squirming uncomfortably. "I need to ask you a favor."

"What?" Kaeryn asked cautiously. Oh gods, she thought, how much trouble is she in? Demons? Dragons? Half the masked Lords of Waterdeep?

Kuuni squirmed some more. "Um. . . . . well. . . . . it's sorta . . . . uh . . . . . Ineedsomehelpchoosingapresent," she said in a rush.

"Can you repeat that?" Kaeryn asked. "Slower."

Kuuni whispered. "I need some help choosing a present. For the wedding." She looked down miserably. "I . . . I . . . don't know what to get."

Kaeryn nodded. Kuuni was an inveterate pack rat and magpie. She loved collecting things that interested her, from shiny pieces of base metal to star rubies. "Of course I'll help you," said Kaeryn. The amount of damage Kuuni could do without a minder almost made her shudder to contemplate. "Shall we go to Waterdeep? Or would you prefer Sigil?"

Kuuni made a face. "I hate Sigil."

"Waterdeep it is," said Kaeryn. "Just let me say my goodbyes to these good people and I'll take us there. Wait here for me."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes," said Kaeryn.

"Alright."

"Promise."

"Fine," she let out a sigh. "I promise." Kaeryn rushed back to the barn to let everyone know that she was going, but would be back soon. Kuuni's promise was probably good for a couple of minutes. Maybe.

Kuuni is a character to fall in love with*giggle*

A hot wind blew out the gate as it opened onto the grassy plain. Eyes turned towards the portal as Kaeryn and Kuuni stepped out of it, leaving behind a crowd of travelers. Two soldiers in crimson plate advanced, a blond woman and a man with skin the colour of teak. "You are?" the woman inquired politely.

"Kaeryn and Kuuni," said the priestess of Mystra. "We are invited." She looked around at the crowd. A dozen pavilions had been erected and long tables and benches set up in the open. Entertainers of a a half dozen species wove illusions, juggled torches, or performed acts of acrobatic grace. A small army of wedding guests wearing formal clothes ranging from grizzled elders to bright eyed children took in the sights.

The blond consulted a list. "Ahh yes. Please be welcome."

"Thank you," Kaeryn said. "Where are the gifts being left?"

"The central pavilion," said the dark man pointing. "The bride's mother is taking charge."

"What? Nalifan isn't running everything with an iron fist?" Kaeryn said with a smile.

"Only most things," said the woman with a smile. "He's running around like a hummingbird making things are running smoothly and that woman's trailing in his wake. He's managed to delegate a few things. Otherwise his sanity would have cracked at least an hour ago."

"How can you tell that it hasn't?" the man joked.

"Thanks," said Kaeryn as she and Kuuni went passed them. She swatted Kuuni's hand as it reached towards the man's belt. The svirfneblin looked up at her with big liquid eyes. "No," said Kaeryn. "And don't even try that shit with me."

Kuuni looked down at her feet as they made their way through the crowd. The tables held plates of appetizers and pitchers of cold juice and light ale. The sun was shining and the day was pleasantly warm, just as Nalifan had promised. Kaeryn stopped and closed her eyes. A wave of magic washed over her, but none of it weather related. Scryings and wardings for danger. Nalifan hadn't needed to force the weather to be obedient, but he was keeping an eye open for gate crashers.

She sidestepped a clutch of racing children on her way to the central pavilion, a huge sky blue affair. A huge, horned, blue skinned ogre magi wearing baroque armour of crimson and gold stopped cold and made a gesture for Kaeryn to proceed. Kaeryn inclined her head to the giant. "Come along Kuuni," she said, grabbing the gnome by her wrist and walking past the ogre-magi. "Thank you, good sir."

"You're welcome madam," rumbled the creature from behind its tusks. It waited until Kaeryn had passed and then continued on its way.

"Kaeryn!" said a dark haired woman with olive skin. She wore a robe of samite and gold that would have cost a fortune even without the magics woven into it. "And Kuuni as well." She embraced the priestess of Mystra and kissed her on both cheeks.

"Fadima?" said Kaeryn. "You're looking well."

"And you. You too Kuuni."

"Thanks," said the svirfneblin. "What did you get?"

"Nosy aren't you?" said the high mage.

Kaeryn rolled her eyes. "You have no idea."

"You'll find out soon enough," said Fadima.

"Seen Nal around?" Kaeryn asked.

"To the north, with the fire eaters, last I saw. I thought you two . . ."

"Yeah, it didn't end well. But I do have to talk with him."

"Well, he'll be civil. He'll flay anyone who does anything to screw up this wedding, which means he has to play nice. Seen his new 'apprentice'?"

"Apprentice? Nal? What could possibly make him decide to invest that amount of time . . . . she's gorgeous isn't she?" Fadima nodded. "And she's got to be a wildcat in bed. Men."

"Tell me about it. She's a sorceress and a powerful one."

"It's never simple with Nal," she sighed. "Thanks."

"Anytime. Have you seen the dessert table? Save room for them or you'll never forgive yourself."

"Alright," said Kaeryn. "I'll talk to you later. Goodbye."

"Alright. We'll talk later." She waved goodbye. Kaeryn returned the gesture and entered the huge tent. A long table was two-thirds covered with gifts. She reached into her satchel and pulled out a pair of improbably large boxes. She placed both boxes on the table.

"No touching Kuuni."

"I wouldn't," said the svirfneblin in a sulky tone of voice.

"I mean it," she said.

"I said I wouldn't."

"Alright," said Kaeryn. She sighed. Shopping had been . . . . strenuous enough, but now the really hard part started. She had to talk to Nal.

Talking to Kuuni sounds like talking to my 6yr old nephew LOL

You did well with Kaeryn and Fadima's lines... after Kaeryn helps save the wedding guests from the phaerim et al, she'll have to sit down and have a long chat with Fadima later.