Elminster in Myth Drannor - Ed Greenwood [27]
"Anyone important?" one of the elves asked, as the sounds died and they stretched out their hands to drain the magekiller away to nothingness.
"No," another replied simply. "One who might have become a magelord of Athalantar, had their rule not been broken. His name was Heldebran. He knew nothing of interest."
"Was there not another intruder, fighting this hungry thing?" the third guardian asked.
"One of our folk; one who wore a lore-gem."
"And this human was hunting such a one, in our vale?" The spectral elf looked down, eyes sudden flames in the ever-present tree gloom, and said, "Call him back to life, that he can be slain again. More slowly."
"Elaethan," the stern elf said, in shocked reproof. "I shall do the reading spells next time. In touching the mind of this human, you become too much like him."
"It's something we all had to guard against, Norlorn, when first they came to the forests where I first saw the sun. Humans always corrupt us; that is their true danger to the People."
Then perhaps we should destroy any human who passes this way," Norlorn said, drawing himself up into a tower of cold white flame. "That other, who used a spell to escape the flames; he may have borne a lore-gem, but he was human, or seemed so."
"And that is the true danger of such beasts, to themselves," Elaethan said softly. "Many of them seem human, but never manage to become so."
* * * * *
He stood in front of the familiar root. The scepter was beneath it, invisible under the earth and its scattering of twigs, leaves, and clumps of moss he'd arranged so hastily. Elminster peered along the line of crags for nearby danger, found nothing, and used the powers of the lore-gem to check on his spell. Memories swirled briefly, but he wrestled them back from his mind and stood shaking his head to clear it.
He could come back here-or rather, to the scepter- twice more. Not that he wanted to… so how to avoid attacks that would drive him here?
The mysterious wizard, or any magekillers he chose to send would be bound to find a certain Chosen of Mystra stupid enough to follow the same route he'd originally taken from this place. So his way from here now would lie east along the crags, then south along the first creek he found heading in that general direction, until it strayed too far from where the trees grew tallest.
In the woods, the light tread and heightened senses of an elf outstripped those of a human, and any elven patrols he encountered would be less likely to attack Iymbryl Alastrarra than an intruding human… unless Iymbryl was some personal foe of theirs. Yet he'd seen no trace in the lore-memories, thus far, of Iymbryl being a particular foe of anyone.
It was the work of but a moment to slide into Iymbryl's shape, this time. Elminster thought briefly of the spellbook lost in his saddlebag, and sighed. He was going to have to get used to the lesser, often odd elven spells stored in the gem, which had evidently served the Alastrarran heir as a personal spellbook. He hadn't time to study them now; 'twas best to get well and promptly away from the scepter, in case his wizardly foe came seeking him here.
Elminster sighed again and set out. Would it be best to travel by night, in mist form, and use the daylight hours to study spells? Hmm… something to think on as he walked. It could be days before he saw Cormanthor. Did he have days to spend, or did this gem eat at the vitality or mind of its wearer?
If it was eating away at him… He smote his elven forehead. "Mystra defend me!" he groaned.
Of course. The unexpected voice in his mind sent him to his knees in thankful awe, but the goddess spoke only eight words more: The gem is safe. Get on with it.
After a moment of shocked silence and then a few more spent chuckling weakly, Elminster did so.
* * * * *
The strange purplish light of the musky grove of giant mushrooms gave way to rising ground at last, and Elminster trudged up it with a full load of spells and a weary heart. He'd been walking for days, and met with no one more exciting than a giant stag, with whom he'd been eyeball-to-eyeball