Waterdeep by Richard Awlinson

Author:Richard Awlinson [Awlinson, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

* * * * *

The sword remained in his hand. Cyric knew that and no more. His thoughts drifted aimlessly through the fog that had become his mind.

He felt as though he had been beaten to death.

Fists. Fists as hard as stone. Bhaal, beating him senseless, smashing his jaw and ribs and nose, finally stopping and leaving the job undone. Then Cyric remembered rising to his feet, despite his serious injuries, and stabbing the Lord of Murder.

That had been his undoing. The avatar had turned white and flashed into oblivion. Cyric wondered where he himself was now. Probably the Realm of the Dead, he thought for an instant.

No, he was alive. His head hurt too much, and the agony in his ribs came only when he breathed. He felt as though he had been trampled.

The hawk-nosed man opened his eyes and found it was dark. He lay face down in snow, apparently in the middle of a road. Around him, three figures were rising to their feet.

"Where are we?" Adon asked, studying the snow-covered fields on both sides of the road. His vision had completely recovered.

"Farther up the road to Waterdeep, I hope," Midnight answered wearily. "That's where I was trying to take us, anyway." Her limbs felt heavy with fatigue. Her last incantation had been taxing on her body.

"How'd we get here?" Kelemvor muttered, rubbing his eyes. His vision had partially returned, but the fighter still saw spots of light dancing across the snowy landscape.

"I teleported us," the mage replied. "Don't ask me to explain how."

Cyric decided to remain motionless. He was outnumbered three-to-one and doubted that he could have moved even if he tried. With the return of full consciousness, his pain had grown worse.

Kelemvor chuckled, a bit nervously. "It's good to see you again!" he said, hugging Midnight. Back at Boareskyr Bridge, their initial greeting had been too hurried for his liking. "I can hardly believe you're alive!"

"Why should that surprise you?" Midnight asked, returning his hug warmly.

Assuming a stern tone, Adon grumbled, "After the way you ran off-"

"It's a good thing I did," Midnight interrupted, freeing herself from Kelemvor. She could not believe how quickly the cleric's condescending manner had set her nerves on edge. "Or you'd both be dead!"

"We'd be dead?" Adon exclaimed, stepping backward in frustration. "Bhaal didn't-"

Before the cleric finished, he tripped over Cyric and crashed to the ground. Only Adon's scream of astonishment kept the wounded thief's muffled groan from being heard. Cyric kept his eyes closed and did not move. His only hope was to convince his rivals that he was harmless.

Kelemvor came over and casually kicked Cyric's body. "Look what's lying here in the road like a dungheap!" the warrior growled. He felt the pulse in Cyric's neck. "And he's alive!"

The thief made sure he had a solid grip on his sword.

"Cyric!" Adon hissed, standing and turning to Midnight. "Why'd you bring him?"

"Believe me, it wasn't intentional," Midnight snapped, frowning at the thief's immobile body. "Besides, I thought you were working with him.

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