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Five men marched silently to the main door of the Lord's Keep and were shown through immediately. The strangers were a common enough sight in Llorkh, but even if they hadn't been, few guards would have dared question them. Their features were worn and battered, and though they were fairly young, they looked as if they had lived many lifetimes of danger and strain in their years. The Lord's Men opened the great iron doors and nodded to them as they passed. They climbed several flights of stairs, finding their way to Geildarr's purple-curtained audience chamber, where they were greeted by a person they'd come to appreciate much in the last year.

"Welcome back," said Ardeth, embracing each of the Antiquarians in turn-Bessick, Vonelh, Gunton, Nithinial, and Royce Hundar.

"I can't tell you how glad we are to see you again, Ardeth," said Royce, their de facto leader, and the most handsome and dynamic of the bunch. His ready smile was disarming but weary. "We're puzzled about the reason Geildarr pulled us back. We think we were close to something big in Highstar Lake."

"Have no fear," said Ardeth. "Highstar Lake is child's play compared to where you men are going. You're all about to be sent on the mission of missions."

"Well, what are you waiting for?" asked Vonelh, the company's wizard. "Tell us about it."

"And spoil the suspense?" Ardeth grinned. "Don't worry. Geildarr will explain everything soon. We first need a few more people to arrive for this briefing. You'll have companions on this mission."

"Gods, no!" protested the heavyset warrior Bessick. He wore his usual maniacal grin and toyed with his favorite weapon-a heavy spiked chain. "Not more of those damned Lord's Men! Doesn't Geildarr remember what happened last time?"

"I promise," said Ardeth. "No Lord's Men. You'll have more interesting companions." On that note, she vanished through a door and left the Antiquarians wondering just who would be joining them. A short time later, the answer arrived. Their eyes grew wide with disbelief and they dropped their heads.

Mythkar Leng nodded in vague satisfaction at their display of supplication.

"I trust you can explain what I'm doing here," Leng said.

"Forgive us, Strifeleader Leng," said Royce, "but we are wondering the same. We would be honored if you were to accompany us on this mission."

"What?" demanded Leng. "What mission?"

"We don't know," Royce told him. "Geildarr has just recalled us for some important new mission."

"Ardeth said that we're waiting for somebody who'll come with us on this mission," said Nithinial. "We're honored if that's you." He was a half-elf, lean and small-boned, though most folk he met learned quickly never to bring up his elf heritage. His companions still told the story of a man who hurled an ethnic slur at Nithinial from across the Ten Bells tavern and found his hand nailed to the wall by Nithinial's expertly-thrown dagger.

"What?" Leng hissed. "Geildarr summoned me to a meeting. He said it was a matter of critical importance to the Zhentarim. He wouldn't dare send me on one of his fool's errands!"

"Indeed I wouldn't," said Geildarr, walking through the door with Ardeth beside him. Behind them came an armor-clad hobgoblin, so tall he had to duck to pass through the doorway. In his hands he held a massive axe and he walked deliberately, as if he invested each step with momentous reverence. The effect was hilarious, and the Antiquarians had to hold back laughter.

"You'd better have a good explanation, Geildarr," said Leng.

"Trust me, I do," the mayor answered. "Gan, if you'd like to put that down." The hobgoblin laid the axe on a table in the audience chamber's center and backed off to a corner where he stood as still as a statue. "Welcome back, men. Gunton, perhaps you'd like to look at this."

Heavily-bearded Gunton walked forward to look over the axe. "Dwarven," he said, and looked up at Geildarr. "That much is obvious. Could it be Delzounian?"

Geildarr patted his