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/>[±¾ÕÂÍê]</p><p>Ê×ÏÈÒªËµ£¬¿ÉÁ¯µÄÁúÁú^^bbb ÎÞÊÓÄ³GÕóÓªËÄÈË×éÖÐ¡­¡­<br />ÀÏ¼ÖÍ¬Ñ§£¬ÄãÄãÄãÄÇ¾äÏòËûÖÂ¾´ÕæÊÇÉîµÃÎÒÐÄÑ½°¡°¡^^ ²»¹ý£¬ÀÏÈø£¬ÄÑµÀÊÇÎÒË¼ÏëÐ°¶ñ£¿ÎÒÔõÃ´¾õµÃÄãÒ»ÔÙµØ°µÊ¾¡­¡­= =/// ÎÒ²»³ÐÈÏÎÒ¾ø¶Ô²»³ÐÈÏ&amp;gt;&amp;lt;</p><p><br />Ô­ÎÄ£º</p><p><br />Chapter 25<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; THE LIGHT AT THE END<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; OF THE TUNNEL</p><p>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Hephaestus was an intelligent dragon, smart enough to <br />master many powerful spells, to speak the tongues of a dozen <br />races, to defeat all of the many, many foes who had come <br />against it. The dragon had lived for centuries, gaining <br />wisdom as dragons do, and in that depth of wisdom, <br />Hephaestus recognized that it should not be staring at the <br />brilliance of the Crystal Shard's released energy.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; But the dragon could not turn away from the brilliance, <br />from the sheerest and brightest, the purest power it had <br />ever seen.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The wyrm marveled as a skeletal shadow rolled out of the <br />brilliantly glowing object, then another, and a third, and <br />so on, until the specters of seven long-consumed liches <br />danced about the destroyed Crystal Shard, as they had danced <br />around the object during its dark creation.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Then, one by one, they dissipated into nothingness.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The dragon stared incredulously, feeling the honest <br />emotions as clearly as if it were empathically bound to the <br />next form that flowed out of the artifact, the shadow of a <br />man, hunched and broken with sadness. The stolen soul of the <br />long-dead sheik sat on the floor, staring at the stone <br />forlornly, an aura so devastated flowing out from the shadow <br />that Hephaestus the Merciless felt a twinge in its cold <br />heart.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; That last specter, too, thinned to nothingness, and, <br />finally, the light of the Crystal Shard dimmed.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Only then did Hephaestus recognize the depth of its <br />mistake. Only then did the ancient red dragon realize that <br />it was now totally blind, its eyes utterly destroyed by the <br />pureness of the power released.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The dragon roared-how it roared! The greatest scream of <br />anger, of rage, that ever-angry Hephaestus had ever issued. <br />In that roar, too, was a measure of fear, of regret, of the <br />realization that the wyrm could not dare go forth from its <br />lair to pursue the intruders who had brought this cursed <br />item before it, could not go out from the confines to the <br />open world where it would need its eyes as well as those <br />other keen senses to truly thrive, indeed to survive.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Hephaestus's olfactory senses told the wyrm that it had <br />at least destroyed the drow and the illithid that had been <br />standing in the corridor a few moments before. Taking that <br />satisfaction in the realization that it was likely the only <br />satisfaction Hephaestus could hope to find this day, the <br />wyrm retreated to the large chamber secretly and magically <br />concealed behind its main sleeping hall, the chamber where <br />there was only one possible entrance, and the one where the <br />dragon kept its piled hoard of gold, gems, jewels, and <br />trinkets.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; There the outraged but defeated wyrm curled up again, <br />desiring sleep, peaceful slumber among its hoarded riches, <br />hoping that the passing years would cure its burned eyes. It <br />would dream, yes it would, of consuming those intruders, and <br />it would set its great intelligent mind to work at solving <br />the problem of blindness if the slumber did not bring the <br />desired cure.</p><p>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; * * * * *</p><p>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Cadderly nearly leaped for joy when the form came <br />rushing out of the tunnels, but when he recognized the <br />running man for who he was, Artemis Entreri, and noted that <br />the woman slung across his shoulders was hardly moving and <br />was covered in blood, his heart sank fast.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;What'd ye do to her?&amp;quot; Ivan roared, starting forward, <br />but he found that he was moving slowly, as if in a dream. He <br />looked to Pikel and found that his brother, too, was moving <br />with unnatural sluggishness.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Be at ease,&amp;quot; Jarlaxle said to them. &amp;quot;Danica's wounds <br />are not of Entreri's doing.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;How can ye know?&amp;quot; Ivan demanded.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;He would have left her dead in the darkness,&amp;quot; the drow <br />reasoned, and the simple logic of it did indeed calm the <br />volatile brothers a bit.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Cadderly, though, ran on. As he was beyond the <br />parameters of Jarlaxle's spell when it was cast, he was not <br />slowed in the least. He rushed up to Entreri, who, upon <br />seeing his approach, had stopped and turned one shoulder <br />down, moving Danica to a standing, or at least leaning, <br />position.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Drow blade,&amp;quot; the assassin said as soon as Cadderly got <br />close enough to see the wound-and the feeble attempt at <br />tying it off the assassin had made.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The priest went to work at once, falling into the song <br />of Deneir, bringing forth all the healing energies he could <br />find. Indeed, he discovered to his absolute relief that his <br />love's wounds were not so critical, that she would certainly <br />mend and quickly enough.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; By the time he finished, the Bouldershoulders and <br />Jarlaxle had arrived. Cadderly looked up at the dwarves and <br />smiled and nodded, and turned a puzzled expression on the <br />assassin.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Her actions saved me in the tunnels,&amp;quot; Entreri said <br />sourly. &amp;quot;I do not enjoy being in anyone's debt.&amp;quot; That said, <br />he walked away, not once looking back.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Cadderly and his companions, including Danica, caught up <br />to Entreri and Jarlaxle later on that day, after it became <br />apparent, to everyone's relief, that Hephaestus would not be <br />coming out of its lair in pursuit.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;We are returning to the Spirit Soaring with the same <br />spell that brought us here,&amp;quot; the priest announced. &amp;quot;It would <br />be impolite, at least, if I did not offer you magical <br />transport for the journey back.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Jarlaxle looked at him curiously.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;No tricks,&amp;quot; Cadderly assured the cagey drow. &amp;quot;I hold no <br />trials over either of you, for your actions have been no <br />less than honorable since you came to my domain. I do warn <br />you both, however, that I will tolerate no-&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Why would we wish to return with you?&amp;quot; Artemis Entreri <br />cut him short. &amp;quot;What in your hole of falsehood is for our <br />gain?&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Cadderly started to respond-in many directions all at <br />once. He wanted to yell at the man, to coerce the man, to <br />convert the man, to destroy the man-anything he could do <br />against that sudden wall of negativism. In the end, he said <br />not a word, for indeed, what at the Spirit Soaring would be <br />for the benefit of these two?<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Much, he supposed, if they desired to mend their souls <br />and their ways. Entreri's actions with Danica did hint that <br />there might indeed be a possibility of that in the future. <br />On a whim, the priest entered Deneir's song and brought <br />forth a minor spell, one that revealed the general weal of <br />those he surveyed.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; A quick look at Entreri and Jarlaxle was all he needed <br />to confirm that the Spirit Soaring, Carradoon, Shilmista <br />Forest, and all the region about that section of the <br />Snowflake Mountains would be better off if these two went in <br />the opposite direction.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Farewell, then,&amp;quot; he said with a tip of his hat. &amp;quot;At <br />least you found the opportunity to do one noble act in your <br />wretched existence, Artemis Entreri.&amp;quot; He walked by the pair, <br />Ivan and Pikel in tow.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Danica took her time, though, eyeing Entreri with every <br />step. &amp;quot;I am not ungrateful for what you did when my wound <br />overcame me,&amp;quot; she admitted, &amp;quot;but neither would I shy from <br />finishing that which we started in the tunnels below <br />Hephaestus's lair.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Entreri started to say, &amp;quot;To what end?&amp;quot; but changed his <br />mind before the first word had escaped his lips. He merely <br />shrugged, smiled, and let the woman pass.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;A new rival for Entreri?&amp;quot; Jarlaxle remarked when the <br />four had gone. &amp;quot;A replacement for Drizzt, perhaps?&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Hardly,&amp;quot; Entreri replied.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;She is not worthy, then?&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The assassin only shrugged, not caring enough to try to <br />determine whether she was or not.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Jarlaxle's laugh brought him from his contemplation.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Growth,&amp;quot; the drow remarked.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;I warn you that I'll tolerate little of your <br />judgments,&amp;quot; Entreri replied.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Jarlaxle laughed all the harder. &amp;quot;Then you plan to <br />remain with me.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Entreri looked at him hard, stealing the mirth, <br />considering a question that he could not immediately answer.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Very well, then,&amp;quot; Jarlaxle said lightheartedly, as if <br />he took the silence as confirmation. &amp;quot;But I warn you, if you <br />cross me, I will have to kill you.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;That will be difficult to do from beyond the grave,&amp;quot; <br />Entreri promised.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Jarlaxle laughed once more. &amp;quot;When I was young,&amp;quot; he <br />began, &amp;quot;a friend of mine, a weapon master whose ultimate <br />frustration was that he believed I was the better fighter- <br />though in truth, the one time I bested him was more good <br />fortune than superior skill-remarked to me that at last he <br />had found one who would grow to be at least my equal, and <br />perhaps my superior, a child, really, who showed more <br />promise as a warrior than any before.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;That weapon master's name was Zaknafein-you may have <br />heard of him,&amp;quot; Jarlaxle went on.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Entreri shook his head.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;The young warrior he spoke of was none other than <br />Drizzt Do'Urden,&amp;quot; Jarlaxle explained with a grin.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Entreri tried hard to show no emotion, but his inner <br />feelings at the surprise betrayed him a tiny bit, and <br />certainly enough for Jarlaxle to note it. &amp;quot;And did the <br />prophecy of Zaknafein come true?&amp;quot; Entreri asked.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;If it did, does that hold any revelation for Artemis <br />Entreri?&amp;quot; Jarlaxle asked slyly. &amp;quot;For would discovering the <br />relative strength of Drizzt and Jarlaxle tell Entreri <br />anything pertinent? How does Artemis Entreri believe he <br />measures up against Drizzt Do'Urden?&amp;quot; Then the critical <br />question: &amp;quot;Does Entreri believe he truly defeated Drizzt?&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Entreri looked at Jarlaxle long and hard, but as he <br />stared, his expression inevitably softened. &amp;quot;Does it <br />matter?&amp;quot; he answered, and that indeed was the answer that <br />Jarlaxle most wanted to hear from his new, and, to his way <br />of thinking, long-term companion.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;We are not yet done here,&amp;quot; Jarlaxle announced then, <br />changing the subject abruptly. &amp;quot;There is one group lingering <br />about, fearful and angry. Their leader has decided that he <br />cannot leave yet, not with things as they stand.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Entreri didn't ask, but just followed Jarlaxle as the <br />dark elf made his way around the outcroppings of mountain <br />stone. The assassin fell back a few steps when he saw the <br />group Jarlaxle had spoken of: four dark elves led by a <br />dangerous psionicist. Entreri put his hands immediately to <br />the hilt of his deadly dagger and sword. A short distance <br />away, Jarlaxle and Kimmuriel spoke in the drow tongue, but <br />Entreri could make out most of their words.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Do we battle now?&amp;quot; Kimmuriel Oblodra asked when <br />Jarlaxle neared.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Rai-guy is dead, the Crystal Shard destroyed,&amp;quot; Jarlaxle <br />replied. &amp;quot;What would be the purpose?&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Entreri noted that Kimmuriel did not wince at either <br />proclamation.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Ah, but I guess that you have tasted the sweetness of <br />power, yes?&amp;quot; Jarlaxle asked with a chuckle. &amp;quot;You are seated <br />at the head of Bregan D'aerthe now, it would seem, and you <br />suppose all by yourself. You have little desire to <br />relinquish your garnered position?&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Kimmuriel started to shake his head-it was obvious to <br />Entreri that he was about to try to make peace here with <br />Jarlaxle-but the surprising Jarlaxle cut short Kim-muriel's <br />response. &amp;quot;Very well then!&amp;quot; Jarlaxle said dramatically. &amp;quot;I <br />have little desire for yet another fight, Kimmuriel, and I <br />accept and understand that my actions of late have likely <br />earned me too many enemies within the ranks of Bregan <br />D'aerthe for my return as leader.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;You are surrendering?&amp;quot; Kimmuriel asked doubtfully, and <br />he seemed even more on his guard then, as did the foot-<br />soldiers standing behind him.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Hardly,&amp;quot; Jarlaxle replied with another chuckle. &amp;quot;And I <br />warn you, if you continue to do battle with me, or even to <br />pursue me and track my whereabouts, I will indeed challenge <br />you for the position you have rightly earned.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Entreri listened intently, shaking his head, certain <br />that he must be getting some of the words, at least, very <br />wrong.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Kimmuriel started to respond, but stuttered over a few <br />words, and just gave up with a great sigh.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Do well with Bregan D'aerthe,&amp;quot; Jarlaxle warned. &amp;quot;I will <br />rejoin you one day and will demand of you that we share the <br />leadership. I expect to find a band of mercenaries as strong <br />as the one I now willingly leave behind.&amp;quot; He looked to the <br />other three. &amp;quot;Serve him with honor.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Any reunion between us will not be in Calimport,&amp;quot; <br />Kimmuriel assured him, &amp;quot;nor anywhere else on the cursed <br />surface. I am bound for home, Jarlaxle, back to the caverns <br />that are our true domain.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Jarlaxle nodded, as did the three foot-soldiers.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;And you?&amp;quot; Kimmuriel asked.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The former mercenary leader only shrugged and smiled <br />again. &amp;quot;I cannot know where I most wish to be because I have <br />not seen all that there is.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Again, Kimmuriel could only stare at his former leader <br />curiously. In the end, he merely nodded and, with a snap of <br />his fingers and a thought, opened a dimensional portal <br />through which he and his three minions passed.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Why?&amp;quot; Entreri asked, moving up beside his unexpected <br />companion.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Why?&amp;quot; Jarlaxle echoed.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;You could have returned with them,&amp;quot; the assassin <br />clarified, &amp;quot;though I'd have never gone with you. You chose <br />not to go, not to resume control of your band. Why would you <br />give that up to remain out here, to remain beside me?&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Jarlaxle thought it over for a few moments. Then, using <br />words that Entreri himself had used before, he said with a <br />laugh, &amp;quot;Perhaps I hate drow more than I hate humans.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; In that instant, Artemis Entreri could have been blown <br />over by a gentle breeze. He didn't even want to know how <br />Jarlaxle had known to say that.<br /></p>]]></description> 
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<dc:date>2006-03-13T10:34:16Z</dc:date> 
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/>¡ª¡ª´ÞË¹ÌØ&amp;#8226;¶ÅÛÑµÇ</p><p><br />[TBC]</p><p>ÔÙÒ»¸ö°ë³ÉÆ·£¬Ô­ÒòÍ¬Ç°£º±¾ÕÂÓà²¿Ã²ËÆ¶¼ÊÇ¿­µÂÁ¢ºÍÄ³Å®Ç×ÇÐ½»Ì¸ÖÐ¡­¡­T T<br />²»¹ý£¬Ð¡ºÚ¶Ô°¢¶÷µÄÄ³Ò»Ð©ÆÀ¼ÛÈÃÎÒºÜ¿ªÐÄà¸^o^</p><p><br />ÒÔÏÂÎªÔ­ÎÄ£º</p><p><br />Part 3</p><p>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; NOW WHAT?<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; <br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; There is a simple beauty in the absolute ugliness of <br />demons. There is no ambiguity there, no hesitation, no <br />misconception, about how one must deal with such creatures. <br />You do not parlay with demons. You do not hear their lies. <br />You cast them out, destroy them, rid the world of them-even <br />if the temptation is present to utilize their powers to save <br />what you perceive to be a little corner of goodness.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; This is a difficult concept for many to grasp and has <br />been the downfall of many wizards and priests who have <br />errantly summoned demons and allowed the creatures to move <br />beyond their initial purpose-the answering of a question, <br />perhaps-because they were tempted by the power offered by <br />the creature. Many of these doomed spellcasters thought they <br />would be doing good by forcing the demons to their side, by <br />bolstering their cause, their army, with demonic soldiers. <br />What ill, they supposed, if the end result proved to the <br />greater good? Would not a goodly king be well advised to add <br />&amp;quot;controlled&amp;quot; demons to his cause if goblins threatened his <br />lands?<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I think not, because if the preservation of goodness <br />relies upon the use of such obvious and irredeemable evil to <br />defeat evil, then there is nothing, truly, worth saving.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The sole use of demons, then, is to bring them forth <br />only in times when they must betray the cause of evil, and <br />only in a setting so controlled that there is no hope of <br />their escape. Cadderly has done this within the secure <br />summoning chamber of the Spirit Soaring, as have, I am sure, <br />countless priests and wizards. Such a summoning is not <br />without peril, though, even if the circle of protection is <br />perfectly formed, for there is always a temptation that goes <br />with the manipulation of powers such as a balor or a <br />nalfeshnie.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Within that temptation must always lie the realization <br />of irredeemable evil. Irredeemable. Without hope. That <br />concept, redemption, must be the crucial determinant in any <br />such dealings. Temper your blade when redemption is <br />possible, hold it when redemption is at hand, and strike <br />hard and without remorse when your opponent is beyond any <br />hope of redemption.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Where on that scale does Artemis Entreri lie, I wonder? <br />Is the man truly beyond help and hope?<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Yes, to the former, I believe, and no to the latter. <br />There is no help for Artemis Entreri because the man would <br />never accept any. His greatest flaw is his pride- not the <br />boasting pride of so many lesser warriors, but the pride of <br />absolute independence and unbending self-reliance. I could <br />tell him his errors, as could anyone who has come to know <br />him in any way, but he would not hear my words.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Yet perhaps there may be hope of some redemption for the <br />man. I know not the source of his anger, though it must have <br />been great. And yet I will not allow that the source, <br />however difficult and terrible it might have been, in any <br />way excuses the man from his actions. The blood on Entreri's <br />sword and trademark dagger is his own to wear.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He does not wear it well, I believe. It burns at his <br />skin as might the breath of a black dragon and gnaws at all <br />that is within him. I saw that during our last encounter, a <br />quiet and dull ache at the side of his dark eyes. I had him <br />beaten, could have killed him, and I believe that in many <br />ways he hoped I would finish the task and be done with it, <br />and end his mostly self-imposed suffering.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; That ache is what held my blade, that hope within me <br />that somewhere deep inside Artemis Entreri there is the <br />understanding that his path needs to change, that the road <br />he currently walks is one of emptiness and ultimate despair. <br />Many thoughts coursed my mind as I stood there, weapons in <br />hand, with him defenseless before me. How could I strike <br />when I saw that pain in his eyes and knew that such pain <br />might well be the precursor to redemption? And yet how could <br />I not, when I was well<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; aware that letting Artemis Entreri walk out of that <br />crystalline tower might spell the doom of others?<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Truly it was a dilemma, a crisis of conscience and of <br />balance. I found my answer in that critical moment in the <br />memory of my father, Zaknafein. To Entreri's thinking, I <br />know, he and Zaknafein are not so different, and there are <br />indeed similarities. Both existed in an environment hostile <br />and to their respective perceptions evil. Neither, to their <br />perceptions, did either go out of his way to kill anyone who <br />did not deserve it. Are the warriors and assassins who fight <br />for the wretched pashas of Calimport any better than the <br />soldiers of the drow houses? Thus, in many ways, the actions <br />of Zaknafein and those of Artemis Entreri are quite similar. <br />Both existed in a world of intrigue, danger, and evil. Both <br />survived their imprisonment through ruthless means. If <br />Entreri views his world, his prison, as full of wretchedness <br />as Zaknafein viewed Menzoberranzan, then is not Entreri as <br />entitled to his manner as was Zaknafein, the weapons master <br />who killed many, many dark elves in his tenure as patron of <br />House Do'Urden?<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; It is a comparison I realized when first I went to <br />Calimport, in pursuit of Entreri, who had taken Regis as <br />prisoner (and even that act had justification, I must <br />admit), and a comparison that truly troubled me. How close <br />are they, given their abilities with the blade and their <br />apparent willingness to kill? Was it, then, some inner <br />feelings for Zaknafein that stayed my blade when I could <br />have cut Entreri down?<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; No, I say, and I must believe, for Zaknafein was far <br />more discerning in whom he would kill or would not kill. I <br />know the truth of Zaknafein's heart. I know that Zaknafein <br />was possessed of the ability to love, and the reality of <br />Artemis Entreri simply cannot hold up against that.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Not in his present incarnation, at least, but is there <br />hope that the man will find a light beneath the murderous <br />form of the assassin?<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Perhaps, and I would be glad indeed to hear that the man <br />so embraced that light. In truth, though, I doubt that <br />anyone or anything will ever be able to pull that lost<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; flame of compassion through the thick and seemingly <br />impenetrable armor of dispassion that Artemis Entreri now <br />wears.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; -Drizzt Do'Urden<br /></p>]]></description> 
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<dc:date>2006-03-02T22:49:24Z</dc:date> 
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* * * * *</p><p>¡­¡­</p><p><br />[TBC]</p><p>Èç±êÌâ£¬ÕâÖ»ÊÇÒ»ÕÂµÄ1/4£¬ºóÃæÃ²ËÆ¶¼Ã»ÓÐ°¢¶÷µÄ·Ý£¬ÓÚÊÇº®¼ÙÀï¾ÍÊÇÔÚÕâÕÂÃ»ÁË¶¯Á¦^^bbb£¨ÅÔ£ºÎ¹Î¹£¬²»ÒªÕÒ¿Í¹Û½è¿Ú= =++£©<br />Ä¿Ç°TOB½øÐÐÖÐ£¬¿ÉÊÇ£¬µ±ºÜ¾Ã²»ÃþÕâ¸ö£¬²»¹ÜÐ¡×È¶ÔÐ¡ÒÀËµÁËÊ²Ã´£¬ÐÄÀïÖÕ¾¿»áÓÐµã¿Õ¡£ÏëÆðÄ³¸ö×ÜÊÇ³ÁÄ¬Ç±ÐÐµÄÉíÓ°¡­¡­</p><p><br />ÒÔÏÂÎªÔ­ÎÄ£º</p><p><br />Chapter 4<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; MANY ROADS TO MANY PLACES</p><p>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Entreri stood in the shadows of the doorway, listening <br />with great curiosity to the soliloquy taking place in the <br />room. He could only make out small pieces of the oration. <br />The speaker, Jarlaxle, was talking quickly and excitedly in <br />the drow tongue. Entreri, in addition to his limited Deep <br />Drow vocabulary, couldn't hear every word from this <br />distance.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;They will not stay ahead of us, because we move too <br />quickly,&amp;quot; the mercenary leader remarked. Entreri heard and <br />was able to translate every word of that line, for it seemed <br />as if Jarlaxle was cheering someone on. &amp;quot;Yes, street by <br />street they will fall. Who can stand against us joined?&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Us joined?&amp;quot; the assassin silently echoed, repeating the <br />drow word over and over to make sure that he was translating <br />it properly. Us? Jarlaxle could not be speaking of his <br />alliance with Entreri, or even with the remnants of the <br />Basadoni Guild. Compared to the strength of Bregan D'aerthe, <br />these were minor additions. Had Jarlaxle made some new deal, <br />then, without Entreri's knowledge? A deal with some pasha, <br />perhaps, or an even greater power?<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The assassin bent in closer, listening particularly for <br />any names of demons or devils-or of illithids, perhaps. He <br />shuddered at the thought of any of the three. Demons were <br />too unpredictable and too savage to serve any alliance. They <br />would do whatever served their specific needs at any <br />particular moment, without regard for the greater benefit to <br />the alliance. Devils were more predictable- were too <br />predictable. In their hierarchical view of the world, they <br />inevitably sat on top of the pile.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Still, compared to the third notion that had come to <br />him, that of the illithids, Entreri was almost hoping to <br />hear Jarlaxle utter the name of a mighty demon. Entreri had <br />been forced to deal with illithids during his stay in <br />Menzoberranzan-the mind flayers were an unavoidable side of <br />life in the drow city-and he had no desire to ever, ever, <br />see one of the squishy-headed, wretched creatures again.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He listened a bit longer, and Jarlaxle seemed to calm <br />down and to settle more comfortably into his seat. The <br />mercenary leader was still talking, just muttering to <br />himself about the impending downfall of the Rakers, when <br />Entreri strode into the room.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Alone?&amp;quot; the assassin asked innocently. &amp;quot;I thought I <br />heard voices.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He noted with some relief that Jarlaxle wasn't wearing <br />his magical, protective eye patch this day, which made it <br />unlikely that the drow had just encountered, or soon planned <br />to encounter, any illithids. The eye patch protected against <br />mind magic, and none in all the world were more proficient <br />at such things as the dreaded mind flayers.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Sorting things out,&amp;quot; Jarlaxle explained, and his ease <br />with the common tongue of the surface world seemed no less <br />fluent than that of his native language. &amp;quot;There is so much <br />afoot.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Danger, mostly,&amp;quot; Entreri replied.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;For some,&amp;quot; said Jarlaxle with a chuckle.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Entreri looked at him doubtfully.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Surely you do not believe that the Rakers can match our <br />power?&amp;quot; the mercenary leader asked incredulously.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Not in open battle,&amp;quot; Entreri answered, &amp;quot;but that is how <br />it has been with them for many years. They cannot match <br />many, blade to blade, and yet they have ever found a way to <br />survive.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Because they are fortunate.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Because they are intricately tied to greater powers,&amp;quot; <br />Entreri corrected. &amp;quot;A man need not be physically powerful if <br />he is guarded by a giant.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Unless the giant has more tightly befriended a rival,&amp;quot; <br />Jarlaxle interjected. &amp;quot;And giants are known to be <br />unreliable.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;You have arranged this with the greater lords of <br />Calimport?&amp;quot; Entreri asked, unconvinced. &amp;quot;With whom, and why <br />was I not involved in such a negotiation?&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Jarlaxle shrugged, offering not a clue.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Impossible,&amp;quot; Entreri decided. &amp;quot;Even if you threatened <br />one or more of them, the Rakers are too long-standing, too <br />entrenched in the power web of all Calimshan, for such <br />treachery against them to prosper. They have allies to <br />protect them against other allies. There is no way that even <br />Jarlaxle and Bregan D'aerthe could have cleared the <br />opposition to such a sudden and destabilizing shift in the <br />power structure of the region as the decimation of the <br />Rakers.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Perhaps I have allied with the most powerful being ever <br />to come to Calimport,&amp;quot; Jarlaxle said dramatically, and <br />typically, cryptically.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Entreri narrowed his dark eyes and stared at the <br />outrageous drow, looking for clues, any clues, as to what <br />this uncharacteristic behavior might herald. Jarlaxle was <br />often cryptic, always mysterious, and ever ready to grab at <br />an opportunity that would bring him greater power or <br />profits, and yet, something seemed out of place here. To <br />Entreri's thinking, the impending assault on the Rakers was <br />a blunder, which was something the legendary Jarlaxle never <br />did. It seemed obvious, then, that the cunning drow had <br />indeed made some powerful connection or ally, or was <br />possessed of some deeper understanding of the situation. <br />This Entreri doubted since he, not Jarlaxle, was the best <br />connected person on Calimport's streets.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Even given one of those possibilities, though, something <br />just didn't seem quite right to Entreri. Jarlaxle was cocky <br />and arrogant-of course he was!-but never before had he <br />seemed this self-assured, especially in a situation as <br />potentially explosive as this.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The situation seemed only more explosive if Entreri <br />looked beyond the inevitability of the downfall of the <br />Rakers. He knew well the murderous power of the dark elves <br />and held no doubt that Bregan D'aerthe would slaughter the <br />competing guild, but there were so many implications to that <br />victory-too many, certainly, for Jarlaxle to be so <br />comfortable.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Has your role in this been determined?&amp;quot; Jarlaxle asked.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;No role,&amp;quot; Entreri answered, and his tone left no doubt <br />that he was pleased by that fact. &amp;quot;Rai-guy and Kimmuriel <br />have all but cast me aside.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Jarlaxle laughed aloud, for the truth behind that <br />statement-that Entreri had been willingly cast aside- was <br />all too obvious.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Entreri stared at him and didn't crack a smile. Jarlaxle <br />had to know the dangers he had just walked into, a <br />potentially catastrophic situation that could send him and <br />Bregan D'aerthe fleeing back to the dark hole of <br />Menzoberranzan. Perhaps that was it, the assassin mused. <br />Perhaps Jarlaxle longed for home and was slyly facilitating <br />the move. The mere thought of that made Entreri wince. <br />Better that Jarlaxle kill him outright than drag him back <br />there.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Perhaps Entreri would be set up as an agent, as was <br />Morik in Luskan. No, the assassin decided, that would not <br />suffice. Calimport was more dangerous than Luskan, and if <br />the power of Bregan D'aerthe was forced away, he would not <br />take such a risk. Too many powerful enemies would be left <br />behind.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;It will begin soon, if it has not already,&amp;quot; Jarlaxle <br />remarked. &amp;quot;Thus, it will be over soon.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Sooner than you believe, Entreri thought, but he kept <br />silent. He was a man who survived through careful <br />calculation, by weighing scrupulously the consequences of <br />every step and every word. He knew Jarlaxle to be a kindred <br />spirit, but he could not reconcile that with the action that <br />was being undertaken this very night, which, in searching it <br />from any angle, seemed a tremendous and unnecessary gamble.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; What did Jarlaxle know that he did not?</p><p>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; * * * * *</p><p>¡­¡­</p>]]></description> 
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<dc:date>2006-03-02T22:44:17Z</dc:date> 
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/>[´ËÕÂÍê]</p><p>Âþ³¤µÄÒ»ÕÂ£¬·­Òë¹ýÀ´½üÒ»Íò×Ö~ Èç¹ûËµÇ°1/3¿´µÃºÜÐË·Ü£¬ÄÇÃ´ºó1/3¾ÍÊÇÅ­ÁË¡­¡­<br />²»¶àËµÊ²Ã´ÁË£¬°¢¶÷£¬È¥ÄÃ¿¨Â¡Ö®×¦£¡ÄÃÁËËü£¬È»ºó½ÒÁËÄÇÁ½ÕÅ³ôºÚÆ¤£¡£¡= =||||||</p><p><br />ÒÔÏÂÎªÔ­ÎÄ£º</p><p><br />Chapter 3<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; A HUMBLING ENCOUNTER</p><p>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He had his old room back. He even had his name back. The <br />memories of the authorities in Luskan were not as long as <br />they claimed.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The previous year, Morik the Rogue had been accused of <br />attempting to murder the honorable Captain Deudermont of the <br />good ship Sea Sprite, a famous pirate hunter. Since in <br />Luskan accusation and conviction were pretty much the same <br />thing, Morik had faced the prospect of a horrible death in <br />the public spectacle of Prisoner's Carnival. He had actually <br />been in the process of realizing that ultimate torture when <br />Captain Deudermont, horrified by the gruesome scene, had <br />offered a pardon.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Pardoned or not, Morik had been forever banned from <br />Luskan on pain of death. He had returned anyway, of course, <br />the following year. At first he'd taken on an assumed <br />identity, but gradually he had regained his old trappings, <br />his true mannerisms, his connections on the streets, his <br />apartment, and, finally, his name and the reputation it <br />carried. The authorities knew it too, but having plenty of <br />other thugs to torture to death, they didn't seem to care.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Morik could look back on that awful day at Prisoner's <br />Carnival with a sense of humor now. He thought it perfectly <br />ironic that he had been tortured for a crime that he hadn't <br />even committed when there were so many crimes of which he <br />could be rightly convicted.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; It was all a memory now, the memory of a whirlwind of <br />intrigue and danger by the name of Wulfgar. He was Morik the <br />Rogue once more, and all was as it had once been ... almost.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; For now there was another element, an intriguing and <br />also terrifying element, that had come into Morik's life. He <br />walked up to the door of his room cautiously, glancing all <br />about the narrow hallway, studying the shadows. When he was <br />confident that he was alone, he walked up tight to the door, <br />shielding it from any magically prying eyes, and began the <br />process of undoing nearly a dozen deadly traps, top to <br />bottom along both sides of the jamb. That done, he took out <br />a ring of keys and undid the locks-one, two, three-then he <br />clicked open the door. He disarmed yet another trap-this one <br />explosive-then entered, closing and securing the door and <br />resetting all the traps. The complete process took him more <br />than ten minutes, yet he performed this ritual every time he <br />came home. The dark elves had come into Morik's life, <br />unannounced and uninvited. While they had promised him the <br />treasure of a king if he performed their tasks, they had <br />also promised him and had shown him the flip side of that <br />golden coin as well.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Morik checked the small pedestal at the side of the door <br />next. He nodded, satisfied to see that the orb was still in <br />place in the wide vase. The vessel was coated with contact <br />poison and maintained a sensitive pressure release trap. He <br />had paid dearly for that particular orb- an enormous amount <br />of gold that would take him a year of hard thievery to <br />retrieve-but in Morik's fearful eyes, the item was well <br />worth the price. It was enchanted with a powerful anti-magic <br />dweomer that would prevent dimensional doors from opening in <br />his room, that would prevent wizards from strolling in on <br />the other side of a teleportation spell.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Never again did Morik the Rogue wish to be awakened by a <br />dark elf standing at the side of his bed, looming over him.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; All of his locks were in place, his orb rested in its <br />protected vessel, and yet some subtle signal, an intangible <br />breeze, a tickling on the hairs at the back of his neck, <br />told Morik that something was out of place. He glanced all <br />around, from shadow to shadow, to the drapes that still hung <br />over the window he had long ago bricked up. He looked to his <br />bed, to the tightly tucked sheets, with no blankets hanging <br />below the edge. Bending just a bit, Morik saw right through <br />the bottom of the bed. There was no one hiding under there.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The drapes, then, he thought, and he moved in that <br />general direction but took a circuitous route so that he <br />wouldn't force any action from the intruder. A sudden shift <br />and quick-step brought him there, dagger revealed, and he <br />pulled the drapes aside and struck hard, catching only air. <br />Morik laughed in relief and at his own paranoia. How <br />different his world had become since the arrival of the dark <br />elves. Always now he was on the edge of his nerves. He had <br />seen the drow a total of only five times, including their <br />initial encounter way back when Wulfgar was new to the city <br />and they, for some reason that Morik still did not <br />completely understand, wanted him to keep an eye on the huge <br />barbarian.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He was always on his edge, always wary, but he reminded <br />himself of the potential gains his alliance with the drow <br />would bring. Part of the reason that he was Morik the Rogue <br />again, from what he had been able to deduce, had to do with <br />a visit to a particular authority by one of Jarlaxle's <br />henchmen.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He gave a sigh of relief and let the drapes swing back, <br />then froze in surprise and fear as a hand clamped over his <br />mouth and the fine edge of a dagger came tight against his <br />throat.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;You have the jewels?&amp;quot; a voice whispered in his ear, a <br />voice showing incredible strength and calm despite its quiet <br />tone. The hand slipped off of his mouth and up to his <br />forehead, forcing his head back just enough to remind him of <br />how vulnerable and open his throat was.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Morik didn't answer, his mind racing through many <br />possibilities-the least likely of which seeming to be his <br />potential escape, for that hand holding him revealed <br />frightening strength and the hand holding the dagger at his <br />throat was too, too steady. Whoever his attacker might be, <br />Morik understood immediately that he was overmatched.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;I ask one more time; then I end my frustration,&amp;quot; came <br />the whisper.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;You are not drow,&amp;quot; Morik replied, as much to buy some <br />time as to ensure that this man-and he knew that it was a <br />man and certainly no dark elf-would not act rashly.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Perhaps I am, though under the guise of a wizard's <br />spell,&amp;quot; the assailant replied. &amp;quot;But that could not be-or <br />could it?-since no magic will work in this room.&amp;quot; As he <br />finished, he roughly pushed Morik away, then grabbed his <br />shoulder to spin the frightened rogue around as he fell <br />back.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Morik didn't recognize the man, though he still <br />understood that he was in imminent danger. He glanced down <br />at his own dagger, and it seemed a pitiful thing indeed <br />against the magnificent, jewel-handled blade his opponent <br />carried-almost a reflection of the relative strengths of <br />their wielders, Morik recognized with a wince.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Morik the Rogue was as good a thief as roamed the <br />streets of Luskan, a city full of thieves. His reputation, <br />though bloated by bluff, had been well-earned across the <br />bowels of the city. This man before him, older than Morik by <br />a decade, perhaps, and standing so calm and so balanced . . <br />.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; This man had gotten into his apartment and had remained <br />there unobserved despite Morik's attempted scrutiny. Morik <br />noted then that the bed sheets were rumpled-but hadn't he <br />just looked at them, to see them perfectly smooth?<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;You are not drow,&amp;quot; Morik dared to say again.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Not all of Jarlaxle's agents are dark elves, are they, <br />Morik the Rogue?&amp;quot; the man replied.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Morik nodded and slipped his dagger into its sheath at <br />his belt, a move designed to alleviate the tension, <br />something that Morik desperately wanted to do.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;The jewels?&amp;quot; the man asked.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Morik could not hide the panic from his face.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;You should have purchased them from Telsburgher,&amp;quot; the <br />man remarked. &amp;quot;The way was clear and the assignment was not <br />difficult.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;The way would have been clear,&amp;quot; Morik corrected, &amp;quot;but <br />for a minor magistrate who holds old grudges.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The intruder continued to stare, showing neither <br />intrigue nor anger, telling Morik nothing at all about <br />whether or not he was even interested in any excuses.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Telsburgher is ready to sell them to me,&amp;quot; Morik quickly <br />added, &amp;quot;at the agreed price. His hesitation is only a matter <br />of his fear that there will be retribution from Magistrate <br />Jharkheld. The evil man holds an old grudge. He knows that I <br />am back in town and wishes to drag me back to his Prisoner's <br />Carnival, but he cannot, by word of his superiors, I am <br />told. Thank Jarlaxle for me.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;You thank Jarlaxle by performing as instructed,&amp;quot; the <br />man replied, and Morik nervously shifted from foot to foot. <br />&amp;quot;He helps you to fill his purse, not to fill his heart with <br />good feelings.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Morik nodded. &amp;quot;I fear to go after Jharkheld,&amp;quot; he <br />explained. &amp;quot;How high might I strike without incurring the <br />wrath of the greater powers of Luskan, thus ultimately <br />wounding Jarlaxle's purse?&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Jharkheld is not a concern,&amp;quot; the man answered with a <br />tone so assured that Morik found that he believed every <br />word. &amp;quot;Complete the transaction.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;But...&amp;quot; Morik started to reply.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;This night,&amp;quot; came the answer, and the man turned away <br />and started for the door.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; His hands worked in amazing circles right before Morik's <br />eyes as trap after trap after lock fell open. It had taken <br />Morik several minutes to get through that door, and that <br />with an intricate knowledge of every trap-which he had set-<br />and with the keys for the three supposedly difficult locks, <br />and yet, within the span of two minutes, the door now swung <br />open wide.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The man glanced back and tossed something to the floor <br />at Morik's feet.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; A wire.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;The one on your bottom trap had stretched beyond <br />usefulness,&amp;quot; the man explained. &amp;quot;I repaired it for you.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He went out then and closed the door, and Morik heard <br />the clicks and sliding panels as all the locks and traps <br />were efficiently reset.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Morik went to his bed cautiously and pulled the bed <br />sheets aside. A hole had been cut into his mattress, <br />perfectly sized to hold the intruder. Morik gave a helpless <br />laugh, his respect for Jarlaxle's band multiplying. He <br />didn't even have to go over to his trapped vase to know that <br />the orb now within it was a fake and that the real one had <br />just walked out his door.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Entreri blinked as he walked out into the late afternoon <br />Luskan sun. He dropped a hand into his pocket, to feel the <br />enchanted device he had just taken from Morik. This small <br />orb had frustrated Rai-guy. It defeated his magic when he'd <br />tried to visit Morik himself, as it was likely doing now. <br />That thought alone pleased Entreri greatly. It had taken <br />Bregan D'aerthe nearly a ten day to discern the source of <br />Morik's sudden distance, how the man had made his room <br />inaccessible to the prying eyes of the wizards. Thus, <br />Entreri had been sent. He held no illusions that his trip <br />had to do with his thieving prowess, but rather, it was <br />simply because the dark elves weren't certain of how <br />resistant Morik might be and simply hadn't wished to risk <br />any of their brethren in the exploration. Certainly Jarlaxle <br />wouldn't have been pleased to learn that Rai-guy and <br />Kimmuriel had forced Entreri to go, but the pair knew that <br />Entreri wouldn't go to Jarlaxle with the information.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; So Entreri had played message boy for the two <br />formidable, hated dark elves.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; His instructions upon taking the orb and finishing his <br />business with Morik had been explicit and precise. He was to <br />place the orb aside and use the magical signal whistle Rai-<br />guy had given him to call to the dark elves in faraway <br />Calimport, but he wasn't in any hurry.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He knew that he should have killed Morik, both for the <br />man's impertinence in trying to shield himself and for <br />failing to produce the required jewels. Rai-guy and <br />Kimmuriel would demand such punishment, of course. Now he'd <br />have to justify his actions, to protect Morik somewhat.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He knew Luskan fairly well, having been through the city <br />several times, including an extended visit only a few days <br />before, when he, along with several other drow agents, had <br />learned the truth of Morik's magic-blocking device. <br />Wandering the streets, he soon heard the shouts and cheers <br />of the vicious Prisoner's Carnival. He entered the back of <br />the open square just as some poor fool was having his <br />intestines pulled out like a great length of rope. Entreri <br />hardly noticed the spectacle, concentrating instead on the <br />sharp-featured, diminutive, robed figure presiding over the <br />torture.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The man screamed at the writhing victim, telling him to <br />surrender his associates, there and then, before it was too <br />late. &amp;quot;Secure a chance for a more pleasant afterlife!&amp;quot; the <br />magistrate screeched, his voice as sharp as his angry, <br />angular features. &amp;quot;Now! Before you die!&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The man only wailed. It seemed to Entreri as if he was <br />far beyond any point of even comprehending the magistrate's <br />words.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He died soon enough and the show was over. The people <br />began filtering out of the square, most nodding their heads <br />and smiling, speaking excitedly of Jharkheld's fine show <br />this day.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; That was all Entreri needed to hear.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He moved shadow to shadow, following the magistrate down <br />the short walk from the back of the square to the tower that <br />housed the quarters of the officials of Prisoner's Carnival <br />as well as the dungeons holding those who would soon face <br />the public tortures.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He mused at his own good fortune in carrying Morik's <br />orb, for it gave him some measure of protection from any <br />wizard hired to further secure the tower. That left only <br />sentries and mechanical traps in his way.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Artemis Entreri feared neither.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He went into the tower as the sun disappeared in the <br />west.</p><p>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; * * * * *</p><p>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;They have too many allies,&amp;quot; Rai-guy insisted.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;They would be gone without a trace,&amp;quot; Jarlaxle replied <br />with a wide smile. &amp;quot;Simply gone.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Rai-guy groaned and shook his head, and Kimmuriel, <br />across the room and sitting comfortably in a plush chair, <br />one leg thrown over the cushioning arm, looked up at the <br />ceiling and rolled his eyes.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;You continue to doubt me?&amp;quot; Jarlaxle asked, his tone <br />light and innocent, not threatening. &amp;quot;Consider all that we <br />have already accomplished here in Calimport and across the <br />surface. We have agents in several major cities, including <br />Waterdeep.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;We are exploring agents in other cities,&amp;quot; Rai-guy <br />corrected. &amp;quot;We have but one currently working, the little <br />rogue in Luskan.&amp;quot; He paused and glanced over at his <br />psionicist counterpart and smiled. &amp;quot;Perhaps.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Kimmuriel chuckled as he considered their second agent <br />now working in Luskan, the one Jarlaxle did not know had <br />left Calimport.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The others are preliminary,&amp;quot; Rai-guy went on. &amp;quot;Some are <br />promising, others not so, but none are worthy of the title <br />of agent at this time.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Soon, then,&amp;quot; said Jarlaxle, coming forward in his own <br />comfortable chair. &amp;quot;Soon! They will become profitable <br />partners or we will find others-not so difficult a thing to <br />do among the greedy humans. The situation here in <br />Calimport... look around you. Can you doubt our wisdom in <br />coming here? The gems and jewels are flowing fast, a direct <br />line to a drow population eager to expand their possessions <br />beyond the limited wealth of Menzoberranzan.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Fortunate are we if the houses of Ched Nasad determine <br />that we are undercutting their economy,&amp;quot; Rai-guy, who hailed <br />from that other drow city, remarked sarcastically.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Jarlaxle scoffed at the notion.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;I cannot deny the profitability of Calimport,&amp;quot; the <br />wizard lieutenant went on, &amp;quot;yet when we first planned our <br />journey to the surface, we all agreed that it would show <br />immediate and strong returns. As we all agreed it would <br />likely be a short tenure, and that, after the initial <br />profits, we would do well to reconsider our position and <br />perhaps retreat to our own land, leaving only the best of <br />the trading connections and agents in place.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;So we should reconsider, and so I have,&amp;quot; said Jarlaxle. <br />&amp;quot;It seems obvious to me that we underestimated the potential <br />of our surface operations. Expand! Expand, I say.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Again came the disheartened expressions. Kimmuriel was <br />still staring at the ceiling, as if in abject denial of what <br />Jarlaxle was proposing.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;The Rakers desire that we limit our trade to this one <br />section,&amp;quot; Jarlaxle reminded, &amp;quot;yet many of the craftsmen of <br />the more exotic goods-merchandise that would likely prove <br />most attractive in Menzoberranzan-are outside of that <br />region.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Then we cut a deal with the Rakers, let them in on the <br />take for this new and profitable market to which they have <br />no access,&amp;quot; said Rai-guy, a perfectly reasonable suggestion <br />in light of the history of Bregan D'aerthe, a mercenary and <br />opportunistic band that always tried to use the words <br />&amp;quot;mutually beneficial&amp;quot; as their business credo.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;They are pimples,&amp;quot; Jarlaxle replied, extending his <br />thumb and index finger in the air before him and pressing <br />them together as if he was squeezing away an unwanted <br />blemish. &amp;quot;They will simply disappear.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Not as easy a task as you seem to believe,&amp;quot; came a <br />feminine voice from the doorway, and the three glanced over <br />to see Sharlotta Vespers gliding into the room, dressed in a <br />long gown slit high enough to reveal one very shapely leg. <br />&amp;quot;The Rakers pride themselves on spreading their <br />organizational lines far and wide. You could destroy all of <br />their houses and all of their known agents, even all of the <br />people dealing with all of their agents, and still leave <br />many witnesses.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Who would do what?&amp;quot; Jarlaxle asked, but he was still <br />smiling, even patting his chair for Sharlotta to go over and <br />sit with him, which she did, curling about him familiarly. <br />The sight of it made Rai-guy glance again at Kimmuriel. Both <br />knew that Jarlaxle was bedding the human woman, the most <br />powerful remnant-along with Entreri- of the old Basadoni <br />Guild, and neither of them liked the idea. Sharlotta was a <br />sly one, as humans go, almost sly enough to be accepted <br />among the society of drow. She had even mastered the <br />language of the drow and was now working on the intricate <br />hand signals of the dark elven silent code. Rai-guy found <br />her perfectly repulsive, and Kimmuriel, though seeing her as <br />exotic, did not like the idea of having her whispering <br />dangerous suggestions into Jarlaxle's ear.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; In this particular matter, though, it seemed to both of <br />them that Sharlotta was on their side, so they didn't try to <br />interrupt her as they usually did.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Witnesses who would tell every remaining guild,&amp;quot; <br />Sharlotta explained, &amp;quot;and who would inform the greater <br />powers of Calimshan. The destruction of the Rakers Guild <br />would imply that a truly great power had secretly come to <br />Calimport.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;One has,&amp;quot; Jarlaxle said with a grin.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;One whose greatest strength lies in remaining secret,&amp;quot; <br />Sharlotta replied.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Jarlaxle pushed her from his lap, right off the chair, <br />so that she had to move quickly to get her shapely legs <br />under her in time to prevent falling unceremoniously on her <br />rump.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The mercenary leader then rose as well, pushing right <br />past Sharlotta as if her opinion mattered not at all, and <br />moving closer to his more important lieutenants. &amp;quot;I once <br />envisioned Bregan D'aerthe's role on the surface as that of <br />importer and exporter,&amp;quot; he explained. &amp;quot;This we have easily <br />achieved. Now I see the truth of the human dominated <br />societies, and that is a truth of weakness. We can go <br />further- we must go further.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Conquest?&amp;quot; Rai-guy asked sourly, sarcastically.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Not as Baenre attempted with Mithral Hall,&amp;quot; Jarlaxle <br />eagerly explained. &amp;quot;More a matter of absorption.&amp;quot; Again came <br />that wicked smile. &amp;quot;For those who will play.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;And those who will not simply disappear?&amp;quot; Rai-guy <br />asked, but his sarcasm seemed lost on Jarlaxle, who only <br />smiled all the wider.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Did you not execute a Raker spy only the other day?&amp;quot; <br />Jarlaxle asked.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;There is a profound difference in defending our privacy <br />and trying to expand our borders,&amp;quot; the wizard replied.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Semantics,&amp;quot; Jarlaxle said with a laugh. &amp;quot;Simply <br />semantics.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Behind him, Sharlotta Vespers bit her lip and shook her <br />head, fearing that her newfound benefactors might be about <br />to make a tremendous and very dangerous blunder.</p><p>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; * * * * *</p><p>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; From an alley not so far away, Entreri listened to the <br />shouts and confusion coming from the tower. When he had <br />entered, he'd gone downstairs first, to find a particularly <br />unpleasant prisoner to free. Once he had ushered the man to <br />relative safety, to the open tunnels at the back of the <br />dungeons, he had gone upstairs to the first floor, then up <br />again, moving quietly and deliberately along the shadowy, <br />torch-lit corridors.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Finding Jharkheld's room proved easy enough.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The door hadn't even been locked.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Had he not just witnessed the magistrate's work at <br />Prisoner's Carnival, Artemis Entreri might have reasoned <br />with him concerning Morik. Now the way was clear for Morik <br />to complete his task and proffer the jewels.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Entreri wondered if the escaped prisoner, the obvious <br />murderer of poor Jharkheld, had been found in the maze of <br />tunnels yet. What misery the man would face. A wry grin <br />found its way onto Entreri's face, for he hardly felt any <br />guilt about using the wretch for his own gain. The idiot <br />should have known better, after all. Why would someone come <br />in unannounced and at obvious great personal risk to save <br />him? Why hadn't he even questioned Entreri while the <br />assassin was releasing him from the shackles? Why, if he was <br />smart enough to deserve his life, hadn't he tried to capture <br />Entreri in his place, to put this unasked-for and unknown <br />savior up in the shackles in his stead, to face the <br />executioner? So many prisoners came through these dungeons <br />that the gaolers likely wouldn't even have been aware of the <br />change.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; So, his fate was the thug's own to accept, and in <br />Entreri's thinking, of his own doing. Of course, the thug <br />would claim that someone else had helped him to escape, had <br />set it all up to make it look like it was his doing. <br />Prisoner's Carnival hardly cared for such excuses. Nor did <br />Artemis Entreri.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He dismissed all thoughts of those problems, glanced <br />around to ensure that he was alone, and placed the magic <br />dispelling orb along the side of the alley. He walked across <br />the way and blew his whistle. He wondered then how this <br />might work. Magic would be needed, after all, to get him <br />back to Calimport, but how might that work if he had to take <br />the orb along? Wouldn't the orb's dweomer simply dispel the <br />attempted teleportation?<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; A blue screen of light appeared beside him. It was a <br />magical doorway, he knew, and not one of Rai-guy's, but <br />rather the doing of Kimmuriel Oblodra. So that was it, he <br />mused. Perhaps the orb wouldn't work against psionics.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Or perhaps it would, and that thought unsettled the <br />normally unshakable Entreri profoundly as he moved to <br />collect the item. What would happen if the orb somehow did <br />affect Kimmuriel's dimension warp? Might he wind up in the <br />wrong place-even in another plane of existence, perhaps?<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Entreri shook that thought away as well. Life was risky <br />when dealing with drow, magical orbs or not. He took care to <br />pocket the orb slyly, so that any prying eyes would have a <br />difficult time making out the movement in the dark alley, <br />then strode quickly up to the portal, and with a single deep <br />breath, stepped through.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He came out di, fighting hard to hold his balance, in <br />the guild hall's private sorcery chambers back in Calimport, <br />hundreds and hundreds of miles away.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; There stood Kimmuriel and Rai-guy, staring at him hard.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;The jewels?&amp;quot; Rai-guy asked in the drow language, which <br />Entreri understood, though not well.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Soon,&amp;quot; the assassin replied in his shaky command of <br />Deep Drow. &amp;quot;There was a problem,&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Both dark elves lifted their white eyebrows in surprise.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Was,&amp;quot; Entreri emphasized. &amp;quot;Morik will have the jewels <br />presently.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Then Morik lives,&amp;quot; Kimmuriel remarked pointedly. &amp;quot;What <br />of his attempts to hide from us?&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;More the attempts of local magistrates to seal him off <br />from any outside influences,&amp;quot; Entreri lied. &amp;quot;One local <br />magistrate,&amp;quot; he quickly corrected, seeing their faces sour. <br />&amp;quot;The issue has been remedied.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Neither drow seemed pleased, but neither openly <br />complained.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;And this local magistrate had magically sealed off <br />Morik's room from outside, prying eyes?&amp;quot; Rai-guy asked.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;And all other magic,&amp;quot; Entreri answered. &amp;quot;It has been <br />corrected.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;With the orb?&amp;quot; Kimmuriel added.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Morik proffered the orb,&amp;quot; Rai-guy remarked, narrowing <br />his eyes.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;He apparently did not know what he was buying,&amp;quot; Entreri <br />said calmly, not getting alarmed, for he recognized that his <br />ploys had worked.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Rai-guy and Kimmuriel would hold their suspicions that <br />it had been Morik's work, and not that of any minor <br />official, of course. They would suspect that Entreri had <br />bent the truth to suit his own needs, but the assassin knew <br />that he hadn't given them anything overt enough for them to <br />act upon-at least, not without raising the ire of Jarlaxle.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Again, the realization that his security was almost <br />wholly based on the mercenary leader did not sit well with <br />Entreri. He didn't like being dependent, equating the word <br />with weakness.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He had to turn the situation around.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;You have the orb,&amp;quot; Rai-guy remarked, holding out his <br />slender, deceivingly delicate hand.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Better for me than for you,&amp;quot; the assassin dared to <br />reply, and that declaration set the two dark elves back on <br />their heels.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Even as he finished speaking, though, Entreri felt the <br />tingling in his pocket. He dropped a hand to the orb, and <br />his sensitive fingers felt a subtle vibration coming from <br />deep within the enchanted item. Entreri's gaze focused on <br />Kimmuriel. The drow was standing with his eyes closed, deep <br />in concentration.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Then he understood. The orb's enchantment would do <br />nothing against any of Kimmuriel's formidable mind powers, <br />and Entreri had seen this psionic trick before. Kimmuriel <br />was reaching into the latent energy within the orb and was <br />exciting that energy to explosive levels.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Entreri toyed with the idea of waiting until the last <br />moment then throwing the orb into Kimmuriel's face. How he <br />would enjoy the sight of that wretched drow caught in one of <br />his own tricks!<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; With a wave of his hand, Kimmuriel opened a dimensional <br />portal, from the room to the nearly deserted dusty street <br />outside. It was a portal large enough for the orb, but that <br />would not allow Entreri to step through.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Entreri felt the energy building, building ... the <br />vibrations were not so subtle any longer. Still he held <br />back, staring at Kimmuriel-just staring and waiting, letting <br />the drow know that he was not afraid.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; In truth this was no contest of wills. Entreri had a <br />mounting explosion in his pocket, and Kimmuriel was far <br />enough away so that he would feel little effect from it <br />other than the splattering of Entreri's blood. Again the <br />assassin considered throwing the orb into Kimmuriel's face, <br />but again he realized the futility of such a course.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Kimmuriel would simply stop exciting the latent energy <br />within the orb, would shut off the explosion as completely <br />as dipping a torch into water snuffed out its flame. Entreri <br />would have given Rai-guy and Kimmuriel all the justification <br />they needed to utterly destroy him. Jarlaxle might be angry, <br />but he couldn't and wouldn't deny them their right to defend <br />themselves.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Artemis Entreri wasn't ready for such a fight.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Not yet.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He tossed the orb out through the open door and watched, <br />a split second later, as it exploded into dust.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The magical door went away.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;You play dangerous games,&amp;quot; Rai-guy remarked.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Your drow friend is the one who brought on the <br />explosion,&amp;quot; Entreri casually replied.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;I speak not of that,&amp;quot; the wizard retorted. &amp;quot;There is a <br />common saying among your people that it is foolhardy to send <br />a child to do a man's work. We have a similar saying, that <br />it is foolhardy to send a human to do a drow's work.&amp;quot;<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Entreri stared at him hard, having no response. This <br />whole situation was starting to feel like those days when he <br />had been trapped down in Menzoberranzan, when he had known <br />that, in a city of twenty thousand dark elves, no matter how <br />good he got, no matter how perfect his craft, he would never <br />be considered any higher in society's rankings than twenty <br />thousand and one.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Rai-guy and Kimmuriel tossed out a few phrases between <br />themselves, insults mostly, some crude, some subtle, all <br />aimed at Entreri.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He took them, every one, and said nothing, because he <br />could say nothing. He kept thinking of Dallabad Oasis and a <br />particular sword and gauntlet combination.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He accepted their demeaning words, because he had to.<br />&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; For now.</p>]]></description> 
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<dc:date>2006-01-25T23:40:17Z</dc:date> 
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