Rise of the Blade - Charles Moffat [43]
"Obviously," Pierce muttered under his breath. Concentrating on shutting out other people's thoughts in a situation like this was excruciatingly timestaking, but it had to be done or else he might mistake someone's thought for actual words and respond to it before they say it, which would prove to be a difficult thing to explain. Thus, Pierce tended to stay away from the conversation and sat beside Khelben, Waterdeep's resident archmage.
The mage knew of Pierce's extraordinary power but had long ago been sworn to secrecy. They had both agreed that certain things were better left in the closet and it was a mutual agreement for Pierce could just as easily say a thing or two about the archmage that wouldn't be that well received in public.
Khelben snorted and took a quick drink of Durnan's prized ale. "The fourth Harper found was just behind this wall in the alley," the mage whispered under Asefen's shouting. "He was carrying knowledge of the whereabouts of a secret cache of drow artillery in Undermountain. Dark elf heavy ballista is widely regarded for its ability to punch through even magical defenses. Even your vaunted bronze armour would be crushed in such an impact but what about castle walls? Selling those things to the Zhentilar could turn a huge profit for the drow and drastically slim the chances of some of our agents. We had hoped to intercept that transaction but now we don't even know where it is."
"Couldn't we use a Speak With Dead spell to determine who killed him?"
"Forbidden," Khelben grimaced at the thought. "Some time ago somebody decided that it would be much better if we respected the dead some more."
Pierce turned to face him. "You don't actually have to cast it. Simply start to cast it, and I will do the rest."
Khelben smiled at the thought and he enjoyed the philosophical errors that had just been overstepped. "Not a bad idea Pierce! We'll have to that later tonight however. Right now I want to get out of this place for a breath of fresh air!"
Looking around at the badly ventilated cellar filled with a score of sweating, drinking and arguing Harpers, Pierce was quick to follow the archmage up the stairs. He passed Martinez at the door, who had been assigned as a guard not because the bald man was a good fighter, but because Durnan didn't want him in the wine cellar sampling everything.
Pausing in the alley way, Pierce stopped at the blood stains and breathed in the autumn air. "If it wasn't for the times we live in, I'd probably be at the Academy helping my father brew lifesyrup right now." Which wasn't exactly true. With Nicole there, that would have been the last thing on his list.
"Ah yes!" Khelben cried a bit too loudly. "Made from maple syrup? I love that stuff! Can't get enough of it, it seems!"
"Grow a orchard of maples around that black tower of yours and Marque Draque will gladly give you the recipe, for a price of course."
"I already have a copy of his Lifetree spell. I was one of the first to buy his Nekrolog when it first came out but I simply don't have the time to grow such an orchard. The process is quite time consuming, albeit delicious."
Pierce's stomach growled as he thought of the ambrosia-like liquid that Marque Draque brewed with his father's help. The magical food strengthened the consumer on top of satisfying their belly. The cost of making the boiling room needed for boiling the excess water out of the maple sap in order to purify it had drained the Academy's funds tremendously because the boiler had to made of purest silver and the same went for all the buckets to collect the syrup. It had been worth it however with the high level of injuries at the school when considering the lifesyrup's ability to heal small wounds.
"Where is Draque anyway?"
The Doctor turned to the archmage and glanced around. "When Chev was released from his statue he left behind the two halves of his broken sword. Draque has since repaired it