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the room, howling madly, their white teeth gleaming in stark contrast against the
blackness of them.
Entreri fell into a crouch, ready to spring aside, but Jarlaxle took matters
under control, tossing out before the dogs the same portable hole he had used to
enter the room.
With howls turning to yelps, the beasts disappeared through the floor,
tumbling to the room below. Jarlaxle bent immediately and scooped up the hole,
sealing the floor above them.
"I have to get one of those," Entreri remarked.
"If you do, don't jump into mine with it," said Jarlaxle.
Entreri fixed him with a puzzled expression.
"Rift .. . astral . . . you don't want to know," Jarlaxle assured him.
"Right. Now, where does that leave us?" the assassin
"It leaves you with an enemy you do not understand!" the dark man replied.
He laughed and moved to the side, disappearing so quickly, so completely
into the shadows that it seemed a trick of the eyes to Entreri. Still, the assassin
did manage to flick his fingers and knew his tiny missile had struck home when
he heard a slight chirp from the man.
"You favor the darkness, drow?" the dark man asked, and as he finished, the
room went perfectly black.
"I do!" Jarlaxle responded, and he blew on the whistle again: a short burst, a
long one, and another short one. Entreri heard the door slam.
It was all happening quickly, and purely on instinct, the assassin drew out his
sword and his jeweled dagger and moved protectively back against the bed. He
tipped his cap again, though he understood this to be magical darkness,
impenetrable even by those who had the ability to see in the dark. It was
fortunate he did, though, for right after the chill enshrouded his body, he felt the
sudden intense heat of a fireball filling the room.
He was down and under the bed in an instant, then came out the other side
as the burning mattress collapsed. "Caster!" he yelled.
"Seriously?" came Jarlaxle's sarcastic reply. "Seriously," came the dark
man's cry. "And I fear not your little stings!"
"Really?" Entreri asked him, and he was moving as he spoke, trying hard not
to give the dark man any definitive target. "Even from the needle off your own
window tr-?"
His last word was cut short, though, as complete silence engulfed the room.
Profound, magical silence that quieted even the yelping and howling dogs below.
Entreri knew that it was Jarlaxle's doing, the drow's standard opening salvo
against dangerous magic-users. Without the ability to use verbal components, a
wizard's repertoire was severely limited.
But now Entreri had to worry about himself, for his magical sword began a
sudden assault upon his sensibilities, compelling him to turn the blade back on
himself and take his own life. He had already fought this struggle of wills with the
stubborn weapon, but with an apparent representative of its creators nearby, the
sword seemed even angrier.
The assassin wore the gauntlet, which minimized the effect the sword could
have on him, and he was able to hold the upper hand-somewhat. For he also had
to keep exact track of where he was in the room. He had one good shot because
of his previous actions and words, he knew, and to miss the opportunity would
make this situation even more dangerous.
He aligned himself with the heat emanating from the bed, turned in the
direction he guessed to be perfectly perpendicular to the window, then took three
definitive strides across the room, finally sheathing the stubborn sword as he
went.
He struck once, he struck fast, and he struck true, right into the back of the
dark man, his vampiric, life-stealing jeweled dagger diving in deep.
A strange feeling engulfed Entreri as the dagger pumped forth the life-force
of the dying man, dizzying and disorienting. He fell back, then stumbled silently to
the floor, and lay there for a long while.
Soon after, he heard the dogs barking again from below.
"It's over," he announced, fearing that Jarlaxle would drop another silence on
the room.
A moment later, the darkness lifted as well. Lying on the floor, Entreri looked
straight up to see his dark elf companion similarly lying on the ceiling, hands
tucked comfortably behind his head. Entreri also noticed that the scarring on the
walls and ceiling ended in a bubble about the drow, as if he had enacted some
shield that magic, or the fireball at least, could not affect.
The assassin wasn't surprised.
"Well done," Jarlaxle congratulated, floating down gently to the floor, as
Entreri stood and brushed himself off. "Without sight or hearing, how did you
know he was there?"
Entreri looked over at the dead man. He had pulled out the top drawer of the
dresser as he'd slumped to the floor, its contents spilled about him.
"I told him I had hit him with the needle from the window," the assassin
explained. "I guessed that one of those bottles contained the antidote. He wanted
to use the cover of the darkness and the silence to take care of that little detail."
"Well done!" said Jarlaxle. "I knew there was a reason I kept you around."
Entreri shook his head. "He wasn't lying about the sword," he said. "It held
an affinity to him. I felt it clearly, for it even tried to turn against me."
"A Netherese blade...." Jarlaxle mused. He looked at Entreri, and his eyes
widened for just a moment, then a smile spread across his face. "Tell me, how
does your sword feel about you now?"
Entreri shrugged and gingerly drew the blade. He felt a definite closeness to [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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the room, howling madly, their white teeth gleaming in stark contrast against the
blackness of them.
Entreri fell into a crouch, ready to spring aside, but Jarlaxle took matters
under control, tossing out before the dogs the same portable hole he had used to
enter the room.
With howls turning to yelps, the beasts disappeared through the floor,
tumbling to the room below. Jarlaxle bent immediately and scooped up the hole,
sealing the floor above them.
"I have to get one of those," Entreri remarked.
"If you do, don't jump into mine with it," said Jarlaxle.
Entreri fixed him with a puzzled expression.
"Rift .. . astral . . . you don't want to know," Jarlaxle assured him.
"Right. Now, where does that leave us?" the assassin
"It leaves you with an enemy you do not understand!" the dark man replied.
He laughed and moved to the side, disappearing so quickly, so completely
into the shadows that it seemed a trick of the eyes to Entreri. Still, the assassin
did manage to flick his fingers and knew his tiny missile had struck home when
he heard a slight chirp from the man.
"You favor the darkness, drow?" the dark man asked, and as he finished, the
room went perfectly black.
"I do!" Jarlaxle responded, and he blew on the whistle again: a short burst, a
long one, and another short one. Entreri heard the door slam.
It was all happening quickly, and purely on instinct, the assassin drew out his
sword and his jeweled dagger and moved protectively back against the bed. He
tipped his cap again, though he understood this to be magical darkness,
impenetrable even by those who had the ability to see in the dark. It was
fortunate he did, though, for right after the chill enshrouded his body, he felt the
sudden intense heat of a fireball filling the room.
He was down and under the bed in an instant, then came out the other side
as the burning mattress collapsed. "Caster!" he yelled.
"Seriously?" came Jarlaxle's sarcastic reply. "Seriously," came the dark
man's cry. "And I fear not your little stings!"
"Really?" Entreri asked him, and he was moving as he spoke, trying hard not
to give the dark man any definitive target. "Even from the needle off your own
window tr-?"
His last word was cut short, though, as complete silence engulfed the room.
Profound, magical silence that quieted even the yelping and howling dogs below.
Entreri knew that it was Jarlaxle's doing, the drow's standard opening salvo
against dangerous magic-users. Without the ability to use verbal components, a
wizard's repertoire was severely limited.
But now Entreri had to worry about himself, for his magical sword began a
sudden assault upon his sensibilities, compelling him to turn the blade back on
himself and take his own life. He had already fought this struggle of wills with the
stubborn weapon, but with an apparent representative of its creators nearby, the
sword seemed even angrier.
The assassin wore the gauntlet, which minimized the effect the sword could
have on him, and he was able to hold the upper hand-somewhat. For he also had
to keep exact track of where he was in the room. He had one good shot because
of his previous actions and words, he knew, and to miss the opportunity would
make this situation even more dangerous.
He aligned himself with the heat emanating from the bed, turned in the
direction he guessed to be perfectly perpendicular to the window, then took three
definitive strides across the room, finally sheathing the stubborn sword as he
went.
He struck once, he struck fast, and he struck true, right into the back of the
dark man, his vampiric, life-stealing jeweled dagger diving in deep.
A strange feeling engulfed Entreri as the dagger pumped forth the life-force
of the dying man, dizzying and disorienting. He fell back, then stumbled silently to
the floor, and lay there for a long while.
Soon after, he heard the dogs barking again from below.
"It's over," he announced, fearing that Jarlaxle would drop another silence on
the room.
A moment later, the darkness lifted as well. Lying on the floor, Entreri looked
straight up to see his dark elf companion similarly lying on the ceiling, hands
tucked comfortably behind his head. Entreri also noticed that the scarring on the
walls and ceiling ended in a bubble about the drow, as if he had enacted some
shield that magic, or the fireball at least, could not affect.
The assassin wasn't surprised.
"Well done," Jarlaxle congratulated, floating down gently to the floor, as
Entreri stood and brushed himself off. "Without sight or hearing, how did you
know he was there?"
Entreri looked over at the dead man. He had pulled out the top drawer of the
dresser as he'd slumped to the floor, its contents spilled about him.
"I told him I had hit him with the needle from the window," the assassin
explained. "I guessed that one of those bottles contained the antidote. He wanted
to use the cover of the darkness and the silence to take care of that little detail."
"Well done!" said Jarlaxle. "I knew there was a reason I kept you around."
Entreri shook his head. "He wasn't lying about the sword," he said. "It held
an affinity to him. I felt it clearly, for it even tried to turn against me."
"A Netherese blade...." Jarlaxle mused. He looked at Entreri, and his eyes
widened for just a moment, then a smile spread across his face. "Tell me, how
does your sword feel about you now?"
Entreri shrugged and gingerly drew the blade. He felt a definite closeness to [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]