Swords of Dragonfire by Ed Greenwood

Author:Ed Greenwood
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fantasy
ISBN: 9781435267251
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast
Published: 2007-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Some wizards delight in enspelling all foes

Bringing down the nastiest dooms they can hatch

Twisting men into monsters in agonized throes.

But wise bards and sages turn away, grim

From such gloating; for the unfolding past tells

The high price of such entertainment a-glim.

Ambauree of Calimport

The Vizier and the Satrap:

Twenty Tales of Foible

published in the Year of the Highmantle

Many a shocked and staring eye in Halfhap saw the great black whorl erupt out of the walls of the Oldcoats Inn. Spitting black lightning, it spun slowly, like a gigantic drain of black swamp water being emptied, carrying the upper floors of the inn atop itself like a great cracked cap before it started to spin faster and faster, tightening in on itself until …

It vanished, the upper floors of the inn crashing down upon the ravaged ground floor, so that all collapsed into tumbling, smoking rubble.

The very air above Halfhap tingled, winking with half-seen sparks and shadows that echoed the turning of the vanished whorl for a few long, silent breaths ere fading.

Leaving the town gaping in stunned silence at the heaped rubble that had been the Oldcoats Inn, a great cloud of dust hanging thickly above it.

They did not have to regard unadorned rubble and slowly drifting dust for long.

There came a flash of white light, a winking that left in its wake a stout, bearded man who bore a great gem-headed staff. His robes were black, with a great baldric of interlaced purple dragons, and his face was grim and terrible.

Vangerdahast stood in the heart of the rubble and turned slowly, peering all around. Then he laid the fingers of one hand over the dragontail ring he wore on the other and called, “Laspeera? Laspeera!”

Silence fell; he cloaked himself in it and awaited an answer.

That did not come.

After a long and silent time the Royal Magician of Cormyr shook his head sadly and said to the empty air, “I fear we’ve lost her, Beldos. She’s under half a building, right in front of me, and not moving or answering.”

He threw back his head, and the watching folk of Halfhap could see that his face was wet with tears.

Suddenly someone else appeared, standing in the street in front of the Oldcoats front arch, on cobbles that had been empty a moment earlier.

The few Zhentilar who’d been standing uncertainly around a wrecked coach stepped hastily back, straightening to attention with terror on their faces. Ignoring them, the tall, darkly handsome wizard impatiently waved a hand and murmured something—banishing the cloud of dust in an instant.

Vangerdahast whirled around, black robes swirling, and the staff he raised glowed with threatening magical fire. “Begone!” he thundered. “This is Cormyr. You shall not prevail here! Get you hence, Lord of the Zhentarim!”

Manshoon merely sneered at him, causing some of the Zhentilar to chuckle—but their lord went abruptly expressionless when a long arm sent Vangerdahast staggering aside, and the owner of that arm stepped forward.

Few in Halfhap had ever seen Khelben ‘Blackstaff’ Arunsun, but there was little doubt as

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