Realms of Magic - Brian Thomsen King [15]
The panther growled, but it was not an angry sound, and she began a slow, limping pace, melting away into gray mist.
"That is the joy of magic," Anders said. "The mystery of it all. Why, even the greatest wizards could not explain this, I should guess. Perhaps all of my preparation, per-naps the magic of the hole-ah, yes, my dear, lost hole!– perhaps the combination of all these things.
"The joy of the mysteries," he finished. "Very well, then, give it to me." And he held out his hand for the figurine, but Josidiah clutched it all the tighter.
"Never," the elf said with a smile, and Anders smiled, as well.
"Indeed," said the mage, hardly surprised. "But you will pay for my lost hole, and for my time and effort."
"Gladly," said the elf, and he knew, holding that statuette, holding the key to the wondrous black panther, to Guenhwyvar, whom Josidiah realized would be his most loyal companion and friend for all the rest of his days, that it would be the most worthwhile gold he ever spent.
SMOKE POWDER AND MIRRORS
Jeff Grubb
On reflection, Jehan Wands realized why most adventures begin in taverns. It takes a combination of noise, bustle, the late hour, wrong-headed opinions, and ale, all in specific amounts, to convince otherwise rational people to do stupid things like go on quests and slay dragons. And only a tavern could bring all this together in one spot.
The tavern in question was the Grinning Lion, located in the northern, well-monied reaches of Waterdeep, gem of the north, City of Splendors, and great jewel of the Shining Sea. The Lion was no wharf-side dock or adventurer's dive in the lower quarters of the city, but a clean, softly lit watering hole frequented by locals and the most recent generation of the city's noble families. Here, individuals who would flee in terror from the common room of the Bloody Fist or Selune's Smile farther down the city could quaff a few with others of similar social station and disposition.
There were no dusty Dalesmen here, no Red Wizards in mufti, and no axe-wielding dwarves. Most of the crowd were local, young, and in varying degrees of inebriation, their numbers mixed with a smattering of the wealthy merchants who catered to the wealthier families. A boisterous game of darts dominated one corner, a high-stakes Talis game another, and a third had been commandeered by a wag of middling years telling "Volo stories" to a crowd of younger sports.
The fourth corner held a quiet table of three young apprentice wizards. These were new mages, just trained in their first cantrips, whose lives were still filled with the inglorious grunt work of wizards' assistants-cleaning kettles, running errands, fetching spell components, sweeping the summoning room floor, and other odious tasks their mentors assigned. Like employees of every stripe, regardless of profession, they were taking this opportunity of temporary freedom to complain about the masters they had just left behind.
"Familiars get treated better than we do," said Jehan Wands. He was the tallest of the three, a youth with dark hair gathered in a ponytail behind a golden earring (the latter worn only when he was away from his magical master-his granduncle, Maskar Wands).
His friend Anton, a russet-headed youth, grunted an agreement. "I've seen spell components that were better handled than apprentice wizards. Don't these old husks remember when they were young?"
"They probably do," said Gerald, a gangly blond boy with short hair and a scowling demeanor, "and they want to treat their apprentices just as badly as they themselves were treated." Gerald was supposedly Anton's friend, but Jehan had drunk with him only a handful of times in the past few months.
"And I have it doubly bad," said Jehan, "for I'm working for the family patriarch himself. He's so old we call him Maskar the Mummy. Practically embalmed, and as stiff-necked as they come. If I make the slightest mistake, he pays a 'social call' on my father, and I get one of the Tour mother and I are very disappointed in you' talks. I hear he used to change