Dragons I by Forgotten Realms

Author:Forgotten Realms [Realms, Forgotten]
Format: epub
Published: 2010-04-10T15:29:22.802000+00:00

He waited a few moments until it was clear that neither the cleric, studiously observing something in a small dish with a hand magnifying glass, nor his bustling novice herbalists had noticed his arrival. "Brother Phenotar," he said somewhat softly, not used to his normally eye-catching appearance going unnoticed. "Brother," he said again, more forcefully. White Willow's Brother Herbalist looked up in obvious surprise at his visitor, still holding the magnifying lens up to one eye. He gazed imperiously at the half-dragon, though the effect was somewhat mitigated by the cleric's abnormally enlarged eye peering from behind the glass. "Hmmm... hmmm..." came the herbalist's response. The alchemist snapped his fingers. At once, the young novices scurried out of the room, not making a single sound. "You have them well trained," Drakken said as the last white-robed boy left the workshop, closing the small door behind him. "Rascals all of them," Phenotar sniffed. "And not one of them with the brains necessary to tell the difference between purging buckthorn and celery, if you must know. "Still," he added with a crooked smile, "I've grown quite fond of them. But don't you be telling them that I said so! They'll be impossible to deal with." He turned back to the small dish in an obvious huff. "Brother Phenotar," Drakken said again, caught between amusement and a growing sense of frustration, "I've come to see if you can tell me anything more about Brother Arranoth's..." he stumbled over the word,"... murder." "Hmmm... hmmm..." the herbalist replied, and broke off from whatever it was that had caught his attention. "Murder... oh yes, Arranoth. Terrible thing that was," Phenotar put down the magnifying lens. "Brother Abbot asked me to examine the body." "Yes, I know," the half-dragon replied, the frustration finally creeping in to his voice. "That's why I've come. The abbot asked me to investigate the events surrounding the sub-prior's death." "Well, why didn't you say so in the first place?" the herbalist asked. Drakken stifled a thick-chested growl. The morning's newfound equilibrium vanished in a flash of anger. "What have you found?" was all the half-dragon managed between clenched teeth. "Something, to be sure," Phenotar replied, oblivious to Drakken's mounting rage, "but it's too soon to draw any conclusions. I need to verify a few things." "When will you have something definite?" Drakken asked. "Later this evening, perhaps..." the herbalist paused. "Tomorrow morning to be sure." The half-dragon turned to go, a curse on absent-minded clerics already coming to his lips. When the herbalist asked him if he had uncovered anything in his own investigations, Drakken nearly didn't stop. Something in the cleric's voice, however, held him there. Taking a deep breath, Drakken faced the inquisitive herbalist and relayed what he had discovered in Arranoth's room. He surprised himself, however, when he did not mention the mysterious note. The half-dragon's surprise deepened when Phenotar asked to see the wool swatch. The herbalist studied it for a moment and grabbed the magnifying lens. With

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