Blackstaff (The Wizards) by Steven E. Schend

Author:Steven E. Schend [Schend, Steven E.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780786964208
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast Publishing
Published: 2012-11-13T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

29 Uktar, the Year of Lightning Storms

(1374 DR)

Raegar woke abruptly as the slap tore him from an exhausted slumber. What kept him conscious was the flesh-chilling cold from the lich’s touch, the marble floor, and the many other pains across his body. The stunning effect had long worn off, but the beatings and lack of sleep were having a cumulative effect on him. The late afternoon sun lit the upper dome of the Stagsmere entry chamber through its shattered skylight, but the rays were intermittent as clouds still gathered overhead, as they had all through the night and morning. While Raegar enjoyed the fleeting warmth of it, the afternoon sun in his eyes had lulled him to sleep for a time.

Raegar hated feeling helpless, but he could only turn his head from left to right. The night before, the lich had summoned and morphed a trio of skeletons into a bone cage that anchored him spread-eagled on the floor. Turning his head away from the lich, he could see his broken short sword, two of his daggers, and his magical rings in a clump against one wall, tossed aside when the lich’s spells overwhelmed and disarmed him. He couldn’t see where the lich had taken the Diamondblade, but he was glad he didn’t need to dodge any lightning because of it.

“I realize you’re not genteel, Raegar, but you must stop falling unconscious when I’m talking.” The creature’s skull loomed close to his face, its soulless features even more disturbing up close. “You’re young, but Waterdhavians were made of sterner stuff in my day.”

Raegar spat a stream of invectives at the lich foul enough to make a Dock Ward sailor blanch. To his chagrin, no sound came from his throat due to a magic placed on him a few hours before. Raegar had been hurt many times by people and circumstances in the past. Never once had he ever felt so helpless. He pushed against the bone cage, but his efforts were less effective than they had been hours before. He was weak from exhaustion, but his hatred for his situation and his captor burned bright. The thief entertained methods of revenge and stored them away for more appropriate times to exact them.

“Yes, this is better … much easier with you incapable of interrupting me,” the lich gloated. “Besides, don’t you wish to learn more for those little scribes of the Font of Knowledge? Laughable, that they think themselves worthy to take for themselves the secrets wizardry has wrested from the cosmos. At least this venture has proven fruitful with a number of new pawns and Rhaelnar’s Legacy itself within my grasp.” The lich paced around the chamber, sprinkling an area with powders and herbs, gesturing mystically at various points, and obviously focusing on a major work of magic while simultaneously torturing the captive Raegar.

The lich had spent the past eighteen hours magically building something in this chamber and torturing Raegar for more information on Khelben and modern-day Waterdeep. The

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