D&D - Forgotten Realms - Harpers by The Veiled Dragon # Troy Denning

Author:The Veiled Dragon # Troy Denning
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Ten

The dungeon beneath the Ginger Palace was unlike any of those dank, deep, dark places from which the Harpers had taught Ruha to escape. Instead of mildew and offal, it smelled of cedar and lamp oil, and the sound that filled its corridors was not the wail of tortured prisoners, but the silken swishing of Shou robes. The doors hung on brass hinges rather than leather straps, and they were made of red-lacquered mahogany instead of rusty iron—a construction that would make them no less sturdy once they were barred shut. The stone walls were smooth-plastered, washed with white lime, and a foot thick; the ceiling, nearly fifteen feet above, was formed by the exposed underside of the floor planks above, and therein lay the only weakness Ruha could find.

The long procession of guards reached an intersection and, when Wei Dao attempted to turn right, came to a sudden halt. The leader of the soldiers spoke to the princess in Shou. She replied sharply and pointed at Ruha. The witch had again been gagged with her own veil, her arms were pinned behind her by two separate men, and she was surrounded by a ring of warriors holding naked sword blades within inches of her throat.

Though the lasal haze had already faded from her mind, Ruha’s escort had been too attentive to allow her to cast any spells, so she could not understand the conversation. Nevertheless, she had explored the dungeon during her initial search for Yanseldara’s staff and could imagine what they were discussing. Down the left corridor lay the palace’s tidy prison cells; down the right lay the gruesome chambers of torture and death, where there were certainly enough shackles, fetters, and jaw clamps to keep even a wu-jen from escaping.

Wei Dao prevailed over the commander and led the column to the right. Ruha brought a two-syllable sun spell to mind and, as the clumsy ensemble around her struggled to turn the corner, pretended to stumble. The ring of swordsmen jerked their blades back—Prince Tang had been most emphatic in saying he expected the prisoner alive when he returned—and that was all the room the witch needed.

Slipping her gag as she had once before, Ruha picked her feet off the brick floor and kicked them both backward. Only one of her heels landed on target, smashing the knee of one of the guards holding her arms. The other missed its mark and slipped between the fellow’s legs. As she pitched forward, the witch brought her foot up, catching the soldier squarely in the groin. Both men screamed and released her arms, then landed beside her on the floor.

At once, Ruha rolled onto her side, looked toward one of the oil lamps hanging on the wall, then closed her eyes, covered her ears, and uttered her spell. There was an ear-splitting boom and a flash of light so brilliant it pained the witch’s eyes even through their closed lids.

The next thing Ruha knew, she was lying beneath a heap of writhing Shou guards.

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