The Challenge of the Spheres

In the Moonstone Mask’s kitchen, chaos reigned.   Erwen ducked as a vine lashed out towards the cook, who deftly swung his butcher knife in a defensive arc, slicing the plant in two.   Lady Danas Winterpole beat a hasty retreat to the festhall as everyone’s backs were turned.   “This is getting way too out of hand!” the Halfling shouted.   “Oh, I agree, lad!” The burly cook shouted back.   There was a sound of shattering crockery as another vine knocked over a stack of serving plates.   Erwen eyed the closed door longingly and sighed, dropping the concentration spell.   The vines instantly shriveled away to nothing.   The cook turned to Erwen, meaty fists on his hips. “Now then, put an apron on, boy, because you’ve got a lot of cleaning up to do around here!”   Erwen took half a step back.   The cook pointed his meat cleaver at the druid. “If you think you’re getting out of here without fixing this mess you’ve made, you’ve got another think coming!”   Erwen picked up a broken pot, stew still leaking slowly out of it, and cast mending , repairing the crack. He placed the pot on the nearest countertop, going up on his tip-toes to ensure it made it into the safe zone.   The cook nodded and turned to salvage the meal’s next course.   Erwen fled the kitchen and joined the milling crowd of event attendees who were moving outside towards the balcony overlooking the city.   Outside, the Herald of Waukeen, resplendent in gold-threaded vestments, stepped onto the dais to bless the proceedings.   “As you know, each contestant has ten arrows with which to strike the crystal spheres and release their contents! And one of these spheres,” he said, indicating the floating orbs, “contains a consecrated Coin of Waukeen! May the Coinmaiden’s Favour fall on you, as your arrows strike true!”   “And now,” the Herald continued. “let us introduce this year’s Challengers!”   The Herald turned to the participants.   “He’s the hero of the Siege of Neverwinter and loyal member of the Neverwinter Guard. You know him, you love him! Sergeant ALPHONSE KNOX!”   The roar of the crowd below was deafening.   “You wanted him on the Wall, you needed him on that Wall. Champion of Scar Company, he is Captain DURHAM SHAW!”   A more tepid applause followed. Shaw set his jaw.   The Herald continued, pointing at Radegast. “She’s the archest archer of Silverymoon, a battle-hardened bookworm, and hero of Phandalin, Radegast DE’ATH!”   Radegast curtsied in the style of Silverymoon.   “From Far-Flung Lorelei beyond the Spine of the World, he’s the Champion of Phandalin, Paladin of Sune, Varien AETHER!”   Varien conjured his divine lightning bow, much to the crowd’s delight.   “She’s a leopardstyle bladesinger training the next generation of Evereskan defenders. The Lord Protector’s mistress not to be missed, it’s Mialee AMONODEL!”   Mialee smiled demurely and waved to the appreciative crowd. Dagult beamed as Mialee blew him a kiss.   The Herald indicated Alec. “ A mysterious, handsome traveler from the Unapproachable East, mercenary, adventurer, and hero of Phandalin, it’s ALEC TREVELYAN!”   Alec raised a clenched fist skyward in the tradition of Kirkwall.   Turning to Siegfried, the Herald continued. “He’s the Scion of House Thann, which means he’s better than! Does this noble man have noble aim? We’ll find out! He’s SIEGFRIED THANN!”   Siegfried cast Armor of the Dawn Titan , flames licking up and down his body, as he sketched a flourishing bow towards the onlookers and the crowd below.   “Hailing from the Mere of Dead Men. He took the High Road north, but can he find his way to victory? It’s adventurer Danan STARLING!”   The grim-faced contender raised his crossbow in salute.   “And last but not least,” the Herald said. “He’s the Lion of Neverwinter, our Lord Protector, who rebuilt this city from a shattered ruin. He who tamed the High Road and sealed the Chasm! It’s tonight’s most gracious and generous host, whose style is often imitated but never duplicated, it’s DAGULT NEVEREMBER!”   Pandemonium erupted as fireworks shot from the Moonstone Mask’s upper ramparts to burst in multicoloured flashes over the city. Columns of light shot up from the Hall of Justice, the Lord Protector’s residence, and other landmarks within the Protector’s Enclave, to play across the façade of Castle Never before homing in on the balcony, illuminating the contest participants before centering on the Lord Protector.   Dagult nodded and raised both arms, basking in the crowd’s adoration.   “LET THE CHALLENGE OF THE SPHERES BEGIN!” The Herald shouted.   Danan Starling wasted no time switching out his crossbow for the longbow that had been provided at each contestant’s station. His first shot, however, reflected his rushed approach, and went wide of its target. Before the arrow could become a hazard to the crowd below, an enchantment caused it to disappear in a sprinkle of stardust.   Durham Shaw clucked his tongue in mock sympathy, nocked an arrow into his bow, and shot smartly at a golden globe, which obligingly burst into a shower of golden coins.   The crowd roared in appreciation.   Varien heard Sergeant Knox grumble, “don’t upstage the Lord Protector now, Captain…”   Alec pulled back on his bow and fired, his shot missing.   Dagult Neverember took an easy shot, striking a silver globe that rained silver coins down onto the crowd below. “And who says that nobles can’t redistribute wealth to the lower classes?” he chortled.   Mialee lined up a shot and struck a golden globe. Dagult winced ever so slightly, but smiled all the wider. “A perfect shot, love,” he called out to his mistress.   Now it was Radegast’s turn to wince. Flustered, she fumbled with her bow. “Now Varien, listen to me, you have to take the wind speed into account, plus the magical force keeping this earthmote aloft…”   She forgot to take her shot entirely.   Knox popped off a shot that struck a silver globe.   The paladin took Radegast’s advice to heart, aimed with his lightning bow, and sighted on a platinum globe that had already drifted far afield. He exhaled slowly and steadily, and snapped off a shot.   His arrow lanced out over the crowd and struck the platinum sphere squarely, causing it to disintegrate and rain a fortune in platinum coins down upon the crowd.   The crowd’s applause was like the crashing of the surf below.   “Well played, Aether!” Dagult said with forced cheerfulness.   Siegfried looked at his competitors, and then took a flying leap from his station over the edge of the balcony, his flaming armor trailing smoke and cinders as he snapped off a wild shot.   The crowd gasped as the half-orc twisted in mid-air, turned his fall into a dive.   “Show-off,” Durham Shaw said digustedly.   Danan lined up a second shot, but there was an out-of-tune twang as his bowstring snapped. He patiently waited for an attendant to provide replacement string.   Varien shook his head. “Southerners,” he said under his breath.   Alec missed his second shot.   “Hard luck, there!” Dagult said. Recognizing that he had to up his game, Neverember aimed at a golden globe that was dancing on the air currents over the harbour. The globe shattered with a ringing of coins. The crowd roared. “That’s more like it!” the Lord Protector guffawed.   Mialee matched the Lord Protector, gold for gold. She winked playfully at Varien, who was suddenly very uncomfortable.   Radegast noticed her mother’s wink and flubbed her shot.   Knox struck another silver, nodding to himself.   Varien’s next arrow missed. As Siegfried dove towards the waters of the harbour, he cast a sending spell to Fitzhugh Montgomery.   Narvos Heg carries a Necromatic tome bound in human skin. Search him and you have probable cause to investigate and seize his property lawfully.   He plunged into the waters of the harbour, the force of impact causing his ribs to creak. The waters extinguished his armor, and it took all his strength to swim to the surface.   “It’s an archery contest, not a diving contest!” some wag standing on the docks shouted down at Siegfried as he bobbed in the water.   “Did that hurt?” a small child called out in concern. “You fell so far so fast!”   Siegfried swam to the nearest pier and climbed a rough ladder made from lengths of barnacle-encrusted wood hammered into the pillar. Dripping wet, he painfully hauled himself onto the dock and stood to face the crowd, some of who were regarding him as if he were part of the show, while others kept their attention focused on snatching coins from the air.   “So, does that mean I’m not allowed to take my shot?” he called out theatrically. “What should I aim for next?” He took his bow and fired two arrows at the nearest bronze globes, which shattered and rained copper coins down onto the dockside. “Copper? Thanks for nothing!” a heckler called out.   Siegfried bowed and then misty stepped off the dock to land on the deck of a small, dilapidated cog lashed to the pier. He used his mask of many faces talent to change his appearance behind the ship’s mast into that of a drunken partygoer before crawling hand over hand up the mooring line and disappearing into the crowd, who had forgotten all about him. Danan Starling finally got onto the leaderboard with a strike on a silver globe. Durham Shaw missed and cursed under his breath, and the rest of the competitors began to feel the heat as the easy pickings disappeared, with Alec, Dagult, Mialee, Radegast, Knox, and Varien all missing their next shots.   The crowd of nobles, merchants, and other hangers-on on the balcony began to get rowdy as they placed their bets on the challengers, money exchanging hands and wine flowing just as loosely.   Erwen took advantage of the crowd’s distraction to sidle back inside the Moonstone Mask. He got down on all fours and crept beneath the table, looking for vermin.   Even in a place as posh as the Moonstone Mask, there were mice. He spied one, and sprang cat-like after it. The tiny creature squeaked and tried to slip into a crack in the floor, but the plucky Halfling managed to scoop him up with both hands.   The mouse bit Erwen’s thumb, drawing blood.   Erwen frowned, but held the creature securely as he cast speak with animals . He sat beneath the table out of sight and started to converse with his new acquaintance.   “Hello, friend,” he started optimistically.   “I’m not your friend,” squeaked the mouse.   “Listen to me, friend,” Erwen continued. “My name is Erwen, and you are?”   The mouse drew himself up haughtily in Erwen’s fist. “My name is Julius Cheeser, thank you very much! You will address me by my proper title, Cheeser.”   “That’s nice,” Erwen said. “I think I’ll call you Mickey.”   “That’s not my-” the mouse protested. Erwen squeezed his hand firmly. The mouse gasped. “Mickey it is, haha!”   “Listen, Mickey,” Erwen said, rooting around in his pockets. “D’you like cheese?”   “Do I!?” Cheeser said. “I’m a curd connoisseur! A partaker of provolone!”   Erwen came up with a hunk of cheese that was only starting to moulder. “Then let’s make a deal, Mickey. I need you to slip into the kitchen over yonder and tell me what you see in the second room on your left.”   Cheeser’s eyes didn’t leave the piece of cheese Erwen was holding. “Second…left….” The mouse repeated. “Got it!”   “All right, don’t make me turn into a cat and swallow you up now!” Erwen said, releasing the mouse, who gave the druid a jaunty salute before making a beeline towards the kitchen.   Danan hit a second silver sphere in a row, while Durham missed yet again. Alec struck gold, and Dagult kept pace with him, shattering another golden orb. There was a flash of light and suddenly an oversized golden coin was spinning in mid-air even as other gold coins rained down.   “The Coin of Waukeen!” the Herald shouted. “Three Cheers for the Lord Protector, who has found Favour with the Coinmaiden this Day! O holy day! O blessed coin!”   “Oh, thank Tyr,” Dagult said under his breath in a tone of great relief, loudly enough for Varien to hear. To the crowd he shouted. “Ha! I felt that one right in my coin purse!”   Mialee and Radegast missed their next shots, but Knox plunked a third silver sphere.   Varien aimed at another platinum sphere. He half turned to the Lord Protector.   “Say, Dagult, how many points you on?”   He let fly.   His arrow struck the platinum sphere, which exploded in a shower of coin.   The crowd roared with ravenous energy.   Dagult pursed his lips and then forced them into a smile.   “Good shot, there,” the Lord Protector said. “Clearly you must have spent a great deal of time practising against snowmen in the Frozenfar!”   “What, this?” Varien let arcane flames flicker along the length of his bow. “I don’t even find archery to be that useful a talent, truth be told.” "Er, quite," Neverember said, deflating somewhat.

Julius Cheeser was gone just long enough for Erwen to wonder if the cook hadn’t stomped on him, but suddenly the mouse reappeared beneath the table.   “Well?” Erwen said. “Well what?” Cheeser said. “Gimme the gouda! Make with the mozza!”   “What did you see in the pantry?” Erwen said, dangling the cheese above the mouse.   “Oh, that!” Cheeser said. “There’s a guy in there, bigger than you, but down on all fours looking at something on the floor.”   “What?” Erwen said.   “I saw what I saw, all right?” Cheeser said. “Now hand over the Havarti!”   “What was he looking at?” “Something small and furry, but not alive like you or me!” the mouse said. “Now don’t draw me any further into your humanoid games, okay? I’ve had enough of courtesans locked in their bedchambers who charm mice and birds to do her laundry and mending, you understand? And singing princesses? Forget about it! And furthermore-”   Erwen jammed the piece of cheese into Cheeser’s mouth to shut him up.   Danan struck another silver, Durham shot one of the last golden globes out of the sky, while Alec picked up a silver sphere. Dagult, Mialee, and Radegast shot nothing but air, while Sergeant Knox hit a silver globe.   Kavatos Stormeye cocked his head, as though listening to something only he could hear. He frowned, and nodded towards Zephyris Brightmantle.   Kavatos slipped behind the Lord Protector and whispered something into his ear.   Dagult nodded.   Kavatos spun on his heel and departed, the Lord Enforcer Zephyris following closely behind.   Varien aimed at the last platinum sphere and fired.   There was another blast of coins.   “Back to back platinum spheres!” Dagult exclaimed, turned to slap Varien on the back with enough force to stagger the paladin. “Where were you when Neverwinter needed archers to pick off the undead as they shambled across the plains?”   “You are too kind, Lord Protector,” Varien said magnanimously, knowing that none of the other competitors could catch up to his score now.   Radegast shook her head in amusement as Dagult gave Varien a playful knock on the shoulder. Then she stopped, cold.   Something was wrong.   Behind the Lord Protector and Varien, the contestant Danan Starling had picked up his last arrow, nocked it into his bow, and just as smart as you please had pivoted from aiming out over the docks to aiming his bow directly at Dagult Neverember’s broad-shouldered back.   Radegast felt the wheels of time slow down.   “Lord Protector, duck!” she shouted, pointing at Danan, who was obviously surprised to see that anyone had caught his maneuver. “Death to the Tyrant Lord Pretender!” Danan shouted at the top of his lungs as he let his arrow fly.   Varien pivoted on one boot and shielded the Lord Protector as best he could. He felt the arrow crease hotly across his mailed shoulder as it missed Lord Neverember.   There were assorted screams and shouts of disbelief from the assembly on the balcony at the brazen attack.   Danan cursed, threw his bow aside, and drew a wicked-looking dagger from a forearm sheath. He leapt across the balcony and slashed desperately at the Lord Protector, who did not deign to duck or shy away from the attack.   Danan looked wildly about for an exit, and dove towards a break in the crowd.     Erwen heard a sudden commotion from out on the balcony and blinked as several well-heeled patrons scrambled towards the exits, screeching in fear. “Murder! Murder!” a woman shouted as her consort fairly dragged her by her corset across the festhall floor.   The doors to the kitchen banged open and the kitchen staff, led by the burly cook, rushed into danger, armed with their butcher’s cleavers.   Erwen knew an opportunity when he smelled one, and darted into the empty kitchen, fiddling with the door of the pantry until he could force it open.   A man was indeed crouched in front of what looked like a small music box – a wind-up monkey dressed like a bellboy with smart gold epaulets, who was playing a concertina.   “Geez,” Erwen said, revolted by the creature’s horrible visage, its bulging eyes and too-wide smile.   No music was emanating from the music box, but the monkey’s legs were kicking jauntily as its arms moved the concertina back and forth.   “Don’t you hear it?” the man asked in a raspy, faraway voice, his eyes transfixed. “Don’t you hear it?”   Erwen drew his spear and made as if to throw it, but suddenly he could hear music – the tinny, wheezy tone of a concertina playing a disjointed sea chanty as the instrument bellowed back and forth.   Erwen felt all his energy drain from his body for a moment.   “Cheeser,” he slurred. “Help me…”   Now the wind-up monkey was staring straight at him, dancing his little dance.     There was a ringing sound of metal on metal as Dagult pulled his magnificent longsword and slashed at the escaping assassin, drawing blood.   The assassin shuddered to a halt as first one, then two, then three arrows found their mark.   Durham Shaw stood with his feet wide apart in an attacker’s stance, lowering the bow as he glowered at the bleeding assassin. “Looks like I’ve still got it when it counts,” he growled.   Alec drew the Sword of Trevelyan and rushed at the assassin, slashing him twice.   Dagult gave the assassin a contemptuous glance. “Now then, where do you think you’re going?” he said in a  commanding  tone.   A look of disbelief spread over the assassin’s face as he couldn’t stop himself from lurching towards the Lord Protector.   “That, my boy, is more like it!” Dagult said, thrusting his longsword deftly through the man’s ribcage in two short strokes.   There was a battle cry as Mialee, elven bladesinger of Evereska, whirled like a dervish armed with two shortswords, carving the assassin up as she danced a deadly dance around the defenceless man.   The fight and the life began to drain out of Danan, who staggered under the flurry of blade strikes, but refused to fall to his knees before the Lord Protector. His knife slipped from his mauled fingers to clatter on the floor.   The assassin sagged forward, and Dagult deftly grabbed him up before he could fall.   “Lord Protector, no!” Sergeant Knox said, hefting his battleaxe. “He could still harm-”   “Oh, I don’t think so,” Dagult purred. He caught Danan by the throat and effortlessly lifted the bleeding man off the ground, moving swiftly to the balcony’s edge.   Radegast was frozen in shock at the sudden turn of events, but her investigator’s mind was in high gear.   Something’s not right about this , she thought.  This smells like a setup. The Lord Protector’s top wizard and head of security are both called away just before this assassination attempt occurs? Not bloody likely.   “Now then, you’ve attempted to make some sort of statement here tonight,” Neverember said to Starling. “Why don’t you speak your piece?”   “What do you call someone who takes over a city for his own profit?” the assassin croaked. “Who floods the streets with mercenaries and fills the coffers of the crooked? Who lies about his claim to the throne? Who crushes protest, and who sends the sick off to die? You'd never call that man Lord of your city! You are no Lord of Neverwinter!” He rasped.   Neverember shook his head and smiled. “And yet, here I am,” he said.   Radegast walked up to the Lord Protector. “My lord,” she said quietly, but forcefully enough to catch the Lord Protector’s ear. “If you were to let this assassin live, you might find his story impossible to verify.”   “Oh, of that I have no doubt, beautiful lady,” Neverember murmured. He held the injured man by his collar and called out in a thunderous voice.  “This misguided young man’s choices have led him to fall from grace this day,” Neverember bellowed, holding the wounded assassin’s body out over the edge of the parapet. “Shall I let him fall further?” The crowd below roared its approval.     Siegfried was making his way through the crowd, intent on reaching the House of a Thousand Faces. It was slow-going – it looked like the entire population of Neverwinter had crowded the streets in celebration of the end of Waukeentide.   Suddenly there was a commotion as onlookers gasped and pointed at the Moonstone Mask. “What’s happening?” someone called. “Some sort of fight!” someone shouted. “Is the Lord Protector okay?”   Siegfried turned in time to see a body plummet from the Moonstone Mask’s balcony.   He grit his teeth in a sudden fury. “Oh, those idiots…” He spun about, pushing the townspeople aside roughly as he fought to get to his destination.     “Do you hear that?” Neverember leaned in to the assassin’s ear and whispered. “The people of Neverwinter cry out in support of their lord, all the louder in response to your treachery.”   “You will never wear the Crown of Neverwinter!” the assassin hissed.   “You may be proven right,” Neverember said. “But if the people of Neverwinter will not suffer a king, they will suffer a Lord Protector to guard the throne. My position is secure, but yours, well…”   He let go of the assassin’s collar. Danan Starling fell to the docks far, far below. The crowd roared its approval in waves of applause and shouts.   “Now then, let’s not let this incident ruin tonight’s festivities!” Dagult said, attempting to restore order. “More drink! More food! We have a Champion of the Spheres to celebrate this evening!” He indicated Varien. “A champion who has shown himself to be a true Friend of Neverwinter this day!”   Neverember put his arm around Varien’s shoulder and presented him to the crowd.   Varien looked down.   In Dagult Neverember’s free hand was a bloody Harper pin.   “Did that belong to Danan?” Varien asked.   Neverember slipped the pin into his belt. “Did what belong to Danan, my good man?”   Varien took half a step away from the Lord Protector, whose strong arm continued to hold him.   Varien knew a bargaining chip when he saw one.   “Lord Protector,” Varien said. “I will fight for you, but I won’t lie for you.”   “Varien my boy,” Neverember said. “I would never ask you to lie for me, in fact it is your forthrightness that I find to be your greatest asset as you serve Neverwinter.”   “Should we retrieve the assassin’s body?” Varien asked, looking out over the edge of the balcony. Starling’s corpse floated in the harbour’s rough waters.   “If you are able to get him before the scavengers do, I would be surprised,” Dagult said. “The harbour’s full of strange creatures these days.”   “Well then,” Varien said. He held out a hand to the Lord Protector. “Good game.”   Neverember's grip was like iron as the two shook hands.       Siegfried kicked open the doors of the House of a Thousand Faces.   “Which one of you incompetent buffoons was responsible for that half-baked travesty I just witnessed?”   The half-orc’s rage was reflected a hundredfold by the many mirrors hanging in the parlour.   From behind the bar, Theryis blinked quizzically. “What are you talking about?” Siegfried pointed in the direction of the Moonstone Mask. “Did we not just undertake an assassination attempt? Because I would be pleased if we didn't!” Theryis’s eyes narrowed. “You should probably ask Absalon.”   Siegfried exhaled sharply. “You know, I’m fairly certain there are plenty of sanitation openings in Waterdeep so that Absalon can clean up his shitty performance.” He shook his head, still furious. “Wasting a good assassin, I swear…” He threw up his hands in frustration. “If you want a Lord Protector dead, you don’t pull a weapon on him in front of a thousand witnesses! Why not use a little finesse, a little backhand payoff to his kitchen staff, a little poison in the drinking cup… this is basic, primary school strategy! What imbecility have I been asked to deal with here?”   Theryis silently poured Siegfried a stiff drink.     Erwen summoned all his inner strength and broke the spell that the wind-up monkey had cast over him. The weird, pulsating music faded away from the Halfling’s ears, and his clouded vision cleared.   Erwen threw his spear at the tiny construct, striking it squarely and sending it skittering across the floor of the pantry where it flipped and flopped half-heartedly, gears and cogs spilling from a rent in its stuffed body. With a final shudder, the wind-up monkey’s concertina stopped moving.   The crouching man fell forward on his hands and knees, gasping. “How did I get in here?” He said as he looked around with bleary, unfocused eyes. “Gods, where am I?”   “More importantly,” Erwen said. “Who are you?”   “Oh, right,” the man said. “My name is Danan Starling.”