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Waterdeep. His name was Vermik. He was vile-tongued and foul-tempered, but he paid well, so I put up with him. Vermik came up with a clever scheme. He had me ensorcell all the coins that passed through his shop to seem slightly heavier than they really were. That way he could shave gold dust from them, and no scale would reveal the trick. Though he took only a little from each coin, a great many went through his business every day, and he was making a killing. Until…" Her words trailed off.
    "Until what?" Artek asked.
    Beckla swallowed hard. "Until I transmogrified him into a green slime."
    Artek choked on his firebrandy. "You what?"
    "It was an accident," the wizard huffed defensively. "I didn't mean for the spell to go awry. He had a bad headache, and I was trying to help."
    "Like you were trying to help me when you thought my sword was a snake?" Artek replied smartly.
    She shot him an annoyed look but otherwise ignored the offending comment. "Anyway, I couldn't figure out how to change Vermik back. Personally, I think it simply brought his physical appearance in accord with the nature of his soul. Needless to say, his henchmen didn't appreciate the finer points of irony. In revenge, they came after my head. Because I'm rather partial to it myself, I decided it would be a good idea to look for a hiding place. I planned to lurk for a while in the sewers beneath Waterdeep. Then I stumbled on a way into Undermountain, and I figured there couldn't be a better hiding place." She held her arms out in a final gesture. "And here I am. I can't say that I like living in this pit. But at least I am living."
    "A year is a long time," Artek noted. "I imagine Vermik has given up the chase by now. You could probably return to the surface."
    "I would if I could," the wizard replied mournfully. "What I wouldn't give to breathe real air again-not this wet, moldy stuff that passes for air down here. I've heard there's a well a few levels up that leads to a tavern, but I've never been able to find the way there. Of course, the nobles have their own entrances into this hole, but they're well hidden. Besides, they only open if your blood is bluer than sapphires. Then there are the sewers. According to the rumors, the city's sewers lead all the way down here. Maybe they do, but once I spent five days slogging through sludge, only to end up right back where I started."
    She let out a forlorn sigh. "But that's the problem with Undermountain. It's a whole lot easier to get in than it is to get out, as you're bound to discover yourself."
    Artek reached into his pocket, fidgeting with the small gold box Melthis had given him.
    "I suppose now it's my turn to tell you what I'm doing here," he said jovially.
    Dimly, he noticed that his words were rather slurred.
    His tongue seemed oddly thick. He took a deep swig of his firebrandy, hoping that would improve things, then began his story. By the time he finished, Beckla gripped her cup, staring at him in astonishment.
    "You were locked in the Pit?" she said incredulously. After a second she burst into a fit of wild laughter. "That must have been terrible!"
    "It was absolutely awful," Artek agreed, snorting with mirth. He tried to bring his cup to his lips, but his hand wouldn't seem to behave properly. "They served us gruel with live maggots. And that was on good days!"
    Beckla let out a howl of glee. She tried to refill Artek's cup from the purple bottle but missed altogether, spilling dwarven firebrandy on the floor. The volatile liquid quickly evaporated.
    "So how are you supposed to find this missing nobleman anyway?" Beckla managed to gasp.
    "With this." Artek pulled out the heart jewel and tossed it to the wizard. She fumbled with the glowing stone and finally managed to clutch it. "But he could be almost anywhere in this labyrinth. Even with the jewel, it could take weeks to find him." He thrust out his arm, pointing to the magical tattoo, grinning broadly. "And if I don't get back out in two days,