Read Online Escape from Undermountain by Mark Anthony - Free Book Online
Authors: Mark Anthony
Tags: General Interest
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of something I've been saving just for a special occasion like this."
Artek hesitated, glancing at the tattoo on his forearm. By the position of the sun in relation to the arrow, several hours had passed. However, he supposed a few moments of rest would do more good than harm. Besides, he was curious to hear the wizard's story.
"Lead the way, Beckla Shadesar," he said with a gracious gesture.
Artek followed the wizard through a door in the far end of the hall into a dusty corridor beyond. As they turned a corner, Beckla suddenly cried out in alarm.
"Artek, look out! It's on you!"
The wizard reached out her hands and shouted a word of magic. Blue energy crackled from her fingertips, striking Artek's side. He let out a howl of pain, dancing around in a circle, swatting at his hindquarters.
"That's not a snake," he gritted through clenched teeth. "That's the scabbard for my sword!"
The wizard affected a sheepish look. "Oops."
Artek glared at her. "You nearly set my rump on fire, and all you can say is oops?"
She crossed her arms. "Well, I'm sorry," she countered petulantly. "Sometimes I make mistakes. I'm only human, you know. I suppose you're not?"
Artek grunted. She couldn't know how close to the mark her question had hit. "I think I definitely need that drink now," he muttered.
It wasn't far. At the end of a dim corridor was an iron door. Beckla waved her staff, and the door glowed briefly, then swung open of its own volition.
"It's not much," Beckla said cheerfully, "but I call it home."
She wasn't joking. Beyond the door was a cramped and dingy stone chamber. It was decorated with flotsam and jetsam scavenged from the ancient tunnels and halls: worm-eaten furniture, threadbare tapestries, and dusty shelves overflowing with moldering books and scrolls. Beckla motioned for Artek to enter and then followed, closing the door behind them. She waved her staff, and the portal locked with an audible click.
"It keeps the wandering creatures out," she explained. "Otherwise, I'd never get a wink of sleep."
They sat on a pile of musty cushions, and Beckla rummaged in a nearby chest. "I have some food, if you want it," she said. "It isn't great stuff, but considering that it's conjured out of thin air with a spell, I really can't complain." Then she held aloft a purple glass bottle. "Now this is the real thing. Dwarven firebrandy. I found it on some dead adventurers a while back. I think we'll get more use out of it than they did."
Beckla grabbed two clay cups, blew the dust and spiders out, and filled them with the clear firebrandy. She handed one to Artek. They clanked the cups together, and the wizard downed her drink in one gulp. With a bemused smile, Artek followed suit. Instantly a delicious warmth spread outward from his stomach. Until now, his magically restored body had still felt slightly strange and alien, as if it weren't really his own. But the firebrandy melted his tense muscles, leaving him feeling extremely comfortable. Beckla refilled their cups.
"So are you ever going to tell me what you're doing down here?" he asked amiably. He sipped his firebrandy. Suddenly, his mission did not seem quite so urgent.
Beckla giggled, slurping from her own cup. "Actually, there isn't that much to tell. It isn't all that easy to make a living as a wizard these days. And I've taken some jobs I'm not proud of to make ends meet." She sighed deeply, leaning back on the grubby cushions. "I have dreams, of course. Someday I want to have my own tower, and a personal laboratory so I can perform experiments, and devise amazing new spells that no one has ever seen before. I'd be one of the most famous wizards in all of Faerun." She shook her head ruefully. "But a tower and a laboratory cost gold-lots of it. And, unfortunately, that's one thing I haven't figured out how to conjure yet."
The wizard sloshed more firebrandy into their cups as she went on. "A year ago, I took a job working for a moneylender in the South Ward of
Artek hesitated, glancing at the tattoo on his forearm. By the position of the sun in relation to the arrow, several hours had passed. However, he supposed a few moments of rest would do more good than harm. Besides, he was curious to hear the wizard's story.
"Lead the way, Beckla Shadesar," he said with a gracious gesture.
Artek followed the wizard through a door in the far end of the hall into a dusty corridor beyond. As they turned a corner, Beckla suddenly cried out in alarm.
"Artek, look out! It's on you!"
The wizard reached out her hands and shouted a word of magic. Blue energy crackled from her fingertips, striking Artek's side. He let out a howl of pain, dancing around in a circle, swatting at his hindquarters.
"That's not a snake," he gritted through clenched teeth. "That's the scabbard for my sword!"
The wizard affected a sheepish look. "Oops."
Artek glared at her. "You nearly set my rump on fire, and all you can say is oops?"
She crossed her arms. "Well, I'm sorry," she countered petulantly. "Sometimes I make mistakes. I'm only human, you know. I suppose you're not?"
Artek grunted. She couldn't know how close to the mark her question had hit. "I think I definitely need that drink now," he muttered.
It wasn't far. At the end of a dim corridor was an iron door. Beckla waved her staff, and the door glowed briefly, then swung open of its own volition.
"It's not much," Beckla said cheerfully, "but I call it home."
She wasn't joking. Beyond the door was a cramped and dingy stone chamber. It was decorated with flotsam and jetsam scavenged from the ancient tunnels and halls: worm-eaten furniture, threadbare tapestries, and dusty shelves overflowing with moldering books and scrolls. Beckla motioned for Artek to enter and then followed, closing the door behind them. She waved her staff, and the portal locked with an audible click.
"It keeps the wandering creatures out," she explained. "Otherwise, I'd never get a wink of sleep."
They sat on a pile of musty cushions, and Beckla rummaged in a nearby chest. "I have some food, if you want it," she said. "It isn't great stuff, but considering that it's conjured out of thin air with a spell, I really can't complain." Then she held aloft a purple glass bottle. "Now this is the real thing. Dwarven firebrandy. I found it on some dead adventurers a while back. I think we'll get more use out of it than they did."
Beckla grabbed two clay cups, blew the dust and spiders out, and filled them with the clear firebrandy. She handed one to Artek. They clanked the cups together, and the wizard downed her drink in one gulp. With a bemused smile, Artek followed suit. Instantly a delicious warmth spread outward from his stomach. Until now, his magically restored body had still felt slightly strange and alien, as if it weren't really his own. But the firebrandy melted his tense muscles, leaving him feeling extremely comfortable. Beckla refilled their cups.
"So are you ever going to tell me what you're doing down here?" he asked amiably. He sipped his firebrandy. Suddenly, his mission did not seem quite so urgent.
Beckla giggled, slurping from her own cup. "Actually, there isn't that much to tell. It isn't all that easy to make a living as a wizard these days. And I've taken some jobs I'm not proud of to make ends meet." She sighed deeply, leaning back on the grubby cushions. "I have dreams, of course. Someday I want to have my own tower, and a personal laboratory so I can perform experiments, and devise amazing new spells that no one has ever seen before. I'd be one of the most famous wizards in all of Faerun." She shook her head ruefully. "But a tower and a laboratory cost gold-lots of it. And, unfortunately, that's one thing I haven't figured out how to conjure yet."
The wizard sloshed more firebrandy into their cups as she went on. "A year ago, I took a job working for a moneylender in the South Ward of
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