Blackstaff

Raegar's head throbbed, and immediately he regretted yelling. "Don't just stand there. Some magic lingers about, and we don't need to find out its meaning. We need to make haste to get to the i

After that, we can rest at a manor east of the village overnight. A friend of mine owns Stagsmere and insists someone check on it before winter. If we get separated, it's nine miles east of Rassalantar's pond. Just follow the creek, rather than the road, and turn off when you see the Stagstone. The manor's a mile to the northeast with a trail that's a bit overgrown." As Damlath fell silent, they broke from the trees and onto a muddy trail between two farms. The nearly full moon and the Tears of Selune behind it lit a downward slope and the tiny little cluster of buildings and farms around a pond. Raegar enjoyed the crystal clear night sky and all the stars not easily visible from inside Waterdeep's walls. He'd been through Rassalantar before, but not in a while. Raegar wondered how many others knew of that portal that saved them nearly two days of hard travel. A short while later, Raegar slowed his horse to a trot when they crossed a small wooden bridge over the eastern edge of the pond. He dismounted, loosened the saddle's girth, and walked the mare cool before leaving her to drink and rest. Meanwhile, Damlath only had to step off his carpet, roll it up, and slide it inside his cloak's magical pockets.

Damlath said in a loud whisper, "We're to meet someone who wishes to remain anonymous. You keep an eye out and distract anyone who takes any notice of my meeting." Raegar nodded, and left his mare to graze.

The two men moved toward the i

He also noticed chimneys on both the eastern and western walls, the former chimney wafting cooking smells aloft. Complete with the usual stables and privies, the Sleeping Dragon I

To the casual eye, they seemed nothing more than late-season travelers heading home from or to Waterdeep before winter. From his viewpoint, Raegar could only see the profile and left arm of the brown-cloaked companion, and he squinted to be sure he saw correctly. Between her half-hidden features and the shape and length of her hand, Raegar guessed she was a female elf with dark blond hair. The blue-garbed man to her right was good at subterfuge. He stabbed his left hand onto the table as if to punctuate a point. To any other than a trained thief, the wand in the sleeve beneath that hand was u