Pool of Radiance - James M. Ward [39]
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Ren, too, was observing a ritual-that of a ranger-turned-thief. First he checked the sharpness of the two jewel-handled daggers in his boots, bittersweet reminders of Tempest. She had given him the daggers as a gift some years ago, and he had later had two ioun stones from the take for which she was killed concealed inside their jeweled hilts. Ren thought of the daggers as Right and Left, in keeping with his usual straightforward line of thinking. As always, the blades were keen enough to split a baby's hair. Ren went on to inspect his lockpicks, fire flask, hinge oil, climbing hooks, and door wedges. All seemed to be in perfect order. His nine throwing daggers and his two short swords, on the other hand, were dull and required sharpening. As a ranger, roaming the woodlands, Ren had preferred the longbow and long sword to short swords, but since he had turned to thieving in the streets of Waterdeep with Tempest, he preferred weapons that brought him up close and personal.
After checking his other basic supplies, Ren pulled out the small amber-inlaid chest he had carried with him from Waterdeep. He brushed a layer of dust from its surface and chided himself for not taking better care of the container that held the most important tool of his trade. After disarming the three traps designed to keep intruders from the box, Ren lifted the cover.
A sensation akin to an electrical charge coursed up Ren's spine as he touched the enchanted gauntlets. "It's been far too long since we were together," Ren whispered. Carefully he pulled on the jet-black gloves. As they warmed to the temperature of his skin, their color and texture changed to match his tanned skin perfectly. He held his hands up admiringly. No one would ever know he was wearing gloves. He fitted his favorite lock-pick into the palm of his right glove, and it disappeared into the perfectly camouflaged surface. Then he tucked a pouch of sneezing powder under the right glove. Where there should have been a bulge, there was only his wrist. The magical gloves not only protected his hands, but more than that, they also added a measure of speed and dexterity to his movements.
Ren joined his hands together, cracked his knuckles, and then reached for his black leather armor. He smiled wistfully as he lifted the durable featherweight vest. He could remember the day Tempest had stolen it for him-and how she'd taken it off him that same night. After checking the fastenings, Ren slipped into the armor. He caught sight of his reflection on the polished surface of a copper planter, and he let out a low whistle. It had been a long time since he looked that good. "This one's for you, Tempest," he said softly. "And when this is done, I'll get that bastard who killed you…"
With everything in place, he was ready for the final step in his ritual. He stood with his feet wide apart and began the first moves in a slow and complicated set of exercises. Shal Bal would have recognized them as a wizard's trance relaxation routine. Tarl would have called it a Dan muscle stimulation. Ren simply called it the last thing he had to do.
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Like Tarl, Shal had been up since before dawn, memorizing spells she thought she might need. The last she struggled with was one Ranthor had taught her in recent months, which was called Web of Entrapment. Dipping into the Cloth of Many Pockets, Shal easily found the necessary components for the spell. She smiled, aware once again of how well her master had provided for her. "I hope to make you proud, Ranthor," she whispered softly.
She donned the fine leathers she had bought yesterday and her cloak, as well. "This mission isn't what I had in mind, but it will be an adventure," Shal said aloud, talking half to herself, half to the spirit of her mentor. "My first adventure into the 'real' world. I don't suppose you packed 'adventure equipment' into this cloth, did you, Ranthor?" She repeated the words and then reached inside the cloth. Amazing! she thought as she pulled out item after