Rise of the Blade - Charles Moffat [48]
Chev's eyes had taken on a cold glint. "Perhaps," he said. Without another word he spun around and ran down the street.
Pierce wanted to follow and run the warrior through the back if murder was necessary but instead dropped to Khelben's side and cradled the archmage's head on his lap. Inspecting what his foresight told him was a broken jaw, he concluded that the mage wouldn't be using any verbal spells for a long time.
Darkness hid the Academy beneath its shroud and Pierce took to the gardens for a late night walk. This was one of the few places in Waterdeep where a person could walk without getting cold mud on their boots. While everyone else was freezing, the Academy was getting a warm rain that streaked down the Doctor's cheeks and hid the tears only he could see.
Only at times like this did he stop and contemplate his place in the world and what he learned didn't please him at all. "I'm an old man," he muttered to himself. "An old, weak man."
"You're still stronger than me human," rumbled a voice out of the mist. Long spider legs stepped into the light before Pierce and Rambertz stared down from his nine-foot height to meet the Doctor's gaze. "I may be a monster, but despite that you could still beat me in an arm wrestle."
Pierce nodded in consent although mentally he did not agree. "You will outlive me druid. I will be useless dirt before this century is done."
"Is that a prophesy?" Rambertz asked, head cocked to one side. He folded his legs much like a horse would and sat down on the well trimmed grass. "Or are you simply wallowing in self pity?"
Pierce didn't respond. Instead he looked away and tried to find an answer to his own thoughts.
"You are as much trapped in your form as I am in mine," the druid said at length. "When I was first transformed into the monster you know see, I feared I would never again see the surface and that the Morninglord would never shine his grace upon my horrid body." His handsome visage smiled. "Yet milord did something even greater. Where his servants are normally priests, he granted me the shapechanging abilities of a druid. Now instead of walking in the sun in this awkward form, I can walk, or fly, beneath his light. He blessed me twice that day. He removed my guilt about my form and accepted me despite my race."
"And me?" Pierce asked, looking skyward.
"You are blessed with a body and intellect most men would kill for. You may be about ten years past your prime but you still can hold your own. Did Chev not congratulate you? That's what I heard on the grapevine."
"He did. He said I was incredible for someone so old."
"A compliment. It is hard to find an opponent who takes the time to accurately evaluate you and find your strong points. I find it hard to believe that this Chev is totally evil."
Pierce nodded again. "He isn't evil at all. He simply wants vengeance." He paused and thought for a moment before turning back to the drider. "How do the drow define evil?"
Rambertz nearly laughed. "I don't know if we even have a word for it! All drow are evil, or at least most of us are. As for a definition? Untrustworthy might be its equivalent, which also applies to almost all drow."
"Okay," shrugged Pierce, sitting down crosslegged before the druid. "How would you define it?"
Rambertz frowned and pondered before replying. "Greed perhaps. That alone can explain everything." He jocked a finger towards the Academy walls in the direction of the merchant quarter. "We have a lot of evil all around us Pierce. Greed corrupts in the most profound way. There is no limit to what it can do."
"And why are people greedy? Even I must admit that I help myself to more than my fair share of sweets when it comes to my father's cooking."
"Now that we're getting into philosophy, perhaps its because people are generally insecure about themselves. If they see someone else with