Bard Tales: Harps, Dragons, and Ruined Walls

Bard Tales: Harps, Dragons, and Ruined Walls

Prelude

Marpenoth 24 1369 DR, Year of the Gauntlet

The Harper Valliant Rowanmantle sighed as his eyes scanned through the empty lobby of the Old Skull Inn. The handsome young man, who had just turned twenty summers only days ago, ran his fingers across his smooth clean shaven head, then grabbed a white dish rag from behind the bar and began wiping down the Skull's smooth cherry wooden countertops.

"Say Val, have you seen Eyan around?" asked Val's friend Roland Heronious in his low, but soft voice. Roland, who stood a few inches taller than Val's six foot height, and who was also a few months older than his friend, was washing out the empty ale glasses from the back of the kitchen. Like Val and like his aunt Myrmeen Lhal (who just happened to be the Lady Lord of the city of Arabel) Roland Heronious was too a Harper.

Val shook his head and looked back, watching Roland put away the last glass. "Eyan's still not back from delivering ale to Elminster," he answered with a grin, suppressing the urge to laugh as soapy suds flew into Roland's thick head of jet black hair. "He probably got caught up in one of Old Beard's grand schemes to save the Realms."

Roland shook his head, muttering something about how it's always the unlikely folks who the old wizard chooses to save the world. As he removed the white cotton apron and tossed it onto a nearby chair, he said," Looks like Lady Silvermane going to need a new Ale Boy. I am just happy to have the next three days off from the Inn. Rumor has it that its going to be busy in the next few days."

As Roland went to grab his dark red cloak from the coat rack behind the bar, Val quickly finished wiping down the tables, then put away the chairs.

Just as he was about to grab the keys to lock up for the night, a loud wrapping came from the Skull's front door.

"Who in the devil would be arriving this late?" asked Roland as he walked over and opened the door. Standing in the doorway, was a tall, broad shouldered gentlemen with thick brown hair and amber colored eyes. He was dressed in chain mail armor and carried a stainless steel long sword on his belt. On the front of his armor, the man wore a white tabard that displayed the crest of the Purple Dragon, the symbol of the kingdom of Cormyr.

The man's thick mustache twitched as he looked over the two young Harpers. "I am Sir Stephen Sivill, servant to Cormyr. I would like a room for the evening. My servant is already in the stables, and surely there will be more Purple Dragons coming to Shadowdale in the days to come."

Stepping next to Roland, Val's baby blue eyes went to the man's sword, then back to the set of narrow amber orbs that lay inches above the knight's round nose. "My friend and I would like to help you sir, but we are closed for the evening," he said in a calm tome. "See, Lady Silvermane is in bed, sick with a terrible cold, so we've been taking care of the inn until she gets better. I'm sorry, but we just can't have any more visitors for the night."

The Purple Dragon's face stiffened at the young man's words. "Closed. This is an outrage. I'll have you know that I come bearing a letter from Tessaril Winter, Lord of Eveningstar." He handed Val a rolled up piece of parchment with a tiny miniature version of the Cormyrean symbol used for the wax seal.

Val opened the letter, read it, then tossed it back to Roland, who caught it with one hand.

"It says any Purple Dragons who come and stay at the Inn have a right to do so with the innkeeper's permission."

Roland's emerald eyes stared intently as he read the letter. He then ripped it and looked to the knight. "Aye it does, but as we said before Lady Silvermane is taken ill for the night, leaving us in charge. Neither my friend nor myself are going to her home and risk bodily harm as he try to rouse her. The last person who did that, found themself locked in the inn's basement."

"Barnabee was his name," Val began casually. "Very nice man he was." He turned back to Stephen and continued," Now if you want to come back tomorrow morning, I'm sure Lady Silvermane will be well enough to assist you."

Stephen's face flushed with anger. "You dare ignore an order from Lady Tessaril Winter, one of King Azoun's most trusted lords, who has been a friend to him for ages. Who in the nine hells do you think you are?"

"Oh no doubt Tessaril is friendly with Azoun," Val laughed as he stood face to face with the Purple Dragon. "Much like a common tavern whore is friendly with a wealthy merchant who buys her for the evening. As for who we are good sir, I am Valliant Rowanmantle, son of Brendan Rowanmantle."

The Purple Dragon's face darkened for a moment, then twisted in confusion. "As in related to the Cormyrean noble family?"

The blue eyed Harper nodded. "As in the nephew of Lady Shaeryl Rowanmantle Amcanthra."

Roland stepped next to Val and introduced himself. "And I am Roland Heronious, nephew of Lord Myrmeen Lhal."

This made Stephen let out a chuckle. "You want to talk about whores Sir Val-" The Purple Dragon gave a painful moan as Roland's right closed fist crushed the lower part of his jaw. The knight staggered for a moment, then fell unconscious to the floor.

Standing above the bruised Purple Dragon, Roland rubbed his hand, then looked at Val. "Looks like he won't have a problem finding a place to sleep."

"True," Val said as he watched the man's jaw begin to swell. "Good punch I must say, but why did you get to hit him and not I?"

"Because you're better than tying knots than I am Val."

"I'll grab the rope then, but what will Lady Silvermane say when she finds him tied up in the lobby?"

Roland grinned mischievously to his friend. "Who says we're going to leave him here in the Inn.

*******

Underneath the cloudy night sky, Val and Roland walked through the grassy fields of Shadowdale and arrived at a small hill. Looking past the hill, they saw a beautiful four story wooden farm house. The house sat near the boundary of twelve acres of farmland that belonged to the infamous Bard of Shadowdale and Senior Harper, Storm Silverhand. On each corner of the farm was a very tall and very beautiful sculpted lantern that illuminated the acres of farmland.

"You think Storm is still awake?" Roland asked as they proceeded towards the farmhouse.

"Why wouldn't Storm be awake," Val answered quietly. "She is a Chosen of Mystra, and she doesn't need to rest, save the occasional nap she takes once every eight days."

The two friends continued towards Storm's house, but stopped when they spotted the silver haired bard standing outside, wearing a long white shirt and leather breeches. She appeared to be talking to a middle aged, but very beautiful woman, who was dressed in similar leathers as the Bard of Shadowdale. Flanking her on both sides were two very strong looking Purple Dragon Knights.

"Tessaril," hissed Val as he and Roland made their way to the two women, their ears picking up bits of their conversation.

"...and that's why Azoun and Vangerdahast have laid this charge to Eveningstar," Tessaril said as the two young Harpers approached where she and Storm Silverhand were talking. "With Castle Krag as a stronghold, Cormyr could help protect Shadowdale from Zhentarim forces, and other dangerous foes." Tessaril turned to regard Val and Roland. "And what are you doing here?" Shouldn't you both be drunk at the Inn, trying to bed some noble lasses? Like mother like son."

Up until the last few words, Val wasn't sure if Tessaril's comment was directed towards him or Roland, but upon hearing the last part of the Lord of Eveningstar's sentence, Val's voice exploded with anger as he yelled," That's rich, coming from a dirty whore who still beds a married man."

The taller of Tessaril's body guards stepped close and pushed Val. "You have no right talking to Lord Tessaril like that."

Val balled his fists and stared at the Purple Dragon who had just pushed him. "We're not in Cormyr, so her presence has little power here." That said, he sprang forth and tackled the Purple Dragon, pummeling the man's face with fast, but powerful punches.

Before the second of Tessaril's bodyguards could react, Roland grabbed the man by the chest and flipped him in a fast suplex. Pinning his foe to the ground, Roland began head butting and striking hard with his fists.

Tessaril looked at Storm, her face filled with concern for her men. "Aren't you going to stop this?"

Storm Silverhand sighed and muttered an elven curse as she plucked the two Harpers from off of the two Dragons.

After Storm took her hand off of his shoulder, Val smiled down at the knight he had taken down, counting the many imprints of tiny hammers that now decorated the knight's face and forehead, which had from the magical ring Val wore on his right hand.

Tessaril glared at the two younger Harpers, then looked at the Senior Harper. "We will discuss this later." As soon as her men rose from the ground, the Lord of Eveningstar walked away, her men in tow.

"It looks like you two made her mad," commented Storm as she patted both Harpers on the back, a thin smile on her lips.

Both Val and Roland shrugged it off, as if upsetting the Lord from Cormyr had meant nothing to them.

"So what did she mean by Cormyr wanting to make a stronghold from Castle Krag?" asked Val.

Storm shook her head, then headed back to the farm house. "Come on you two. I'll make you both some tea and we'll talk about it."

Chapter 1

Marpenoth 27 1369 DR, Year of the Gauntlet

Just as dawn's light was fading and the clear blue skies were appearing, the three travelers entered Shadowdale, garbed in the armor they wore in battle that hidden underneath their cloaks, walking along the Northern road that lead into the small town.

"We've arrived in time for breakfast," said one of the travelers in a gruff voice, a beefy blond bearded dwarf named Rouric Balderk as he pulled back the hood of his dark green cloak. He stroked the thick strands of his beard and looked around, sighting many Purple Dragon Knights running round. "Sure are a lot of Dragons in Shadowdale this morning."

The tallest of the travelers shook his head. The human assassin Artemis Entreri, who had only been to Shadowdale once in his life, had never seen this many Cormyrean knights gathered in one area.

"Is there always this many Purple Dragons in Shadowdale?" Entreri asked the shortest of the travelers, the halfling Bowie Butterball.

From underneath his dark blue cloak, Bowie's brown eyes went from the Purple Dragons to the assassin. Unlike Entreri or Rouric, Bowie had spent most of his life in Shadowdale. "I have never seen this many Purple Dragons either," he answered in his musical voice that sounded similar to a street evangelist. "Not even during the times when the royal family came to visit."

"Cormyr has sent said before," said the ghostly voice of Sylune Silverhand as her spectral form floated invisibly next to her halfling godson. "One might think that Shadowdale was in danger, but if that were true, Storm would have reached out to me through the Weave."

"The only danger I see is a hostile take over from a neighboring kingdom." Entreri murmured coldly , removing the hood of his cloak, exposing his gray tinted skin and raven black hair that went past his ears.

Ignoring the assassin's hard words (though part of him had to admit that there might be some truth to them) Bowie looked ahead and said," If Storm is at home, then I think we'll be able to get some answers."

"Couldn't one of you try a lore spell?" asked Entreri, looking at the dwarf and the halfling, who were members of the Harpers Organization.

Rouric laughed. "And risk having Vangerdahast and his War Wizards teleport in front of us and blow us to smithereens because we used Harper and bardic-type magic in the presence of the men from Cormyr. No thank you."

Bowie smiled and added. "Besides, something tells me we'll have to save our spells. Sylune, do you know if Storm is at home?"

Storm Silverhand was the younger sister of Sylune. After Sylune had sacrificed herself during the Flight of Dragons that had almost destroyed Shadowdale many years ago, Storm and her fellow Chosen (most of whom were also younger siblings of Sylune's) did everything in their power to keep the ghost of the Witch of Shadowdale in the world of the living.

After a moment of silence Sylune replied," She is leaving for the Twisted Tower, but she does have some guests over."

Hearing the ghostly woman's words, Entreri leaned close to Bowie. "Perhaps you will be using your spells much sooner than you think."

******

The three travelers arrived at Storm's farm house, wondering if they would find more Purple Dragons waiting inside. Known for being friendly to the residents of Shadowdale, both Rouric and Bowie wouldn't have been surprised if there were a legion of knights inside, sipping tea, lamenting on the Storm's beautiful singing voice.

As Bowie opened the door, two young men rushed at the front door, their swords; one was a bastard sword that had magical flames around the blade and another was a great sword that radiated an aura of freezing ice. Both magical swords were aimed right at the halfling's face.

Despite the feeling of freezing and burning that went through his face, the halfling's hand went to the handle of his short sword. Drawing his weapon, he deflected both with blinding speed, knocking both swords from the hands of their wielders. "You boys seem like you're ready for a fight," Bowie commented, sheathing his weapon.

Both young men smiled at the bard, then quickly went to retrieve their weapons. "Roland it's only Bowie," Val said as he picked up his great sword which he called Frostburn.

Roland grabbed his bastard sword Flamestrike and sheathed it. "Sorry Bowie, we thought you wee a group of pompous Purple Dragons looking to get another beating."

Rouric stepped inside walking over to greet the young men. He was followed by the assassin, whose gray eyes studied the interior. The wooden walls were decorated with simple paintings of heroes and Harpers long gone. Wooden chairs and tables were lined along the wall. The one thing that seemed out of place to the assassin was the many pieces of paper and maps that were scattered all over the floor.

Entreri crossed his arms as Sylune's ghostly voice whispered in his ear," You expected the house of Storm Silverhand to be decorated like a king's palace? I assure you my sister has simple tastes."

"So I've noticed," the assassin said. His eyes went to Val and Roland, sizing them both intently as they were engaged in a deep conversation with Bowie and Rouric.

:Storm is at the Twisted Tower with Tessaril," Bowie said as he reached down and picked up a few pieces of paper from the wooden floor. "And you are sure Azoun sent Tessaril Winter here to explore Castle Krag. It seems odd that they had gotten so many Purple Dragons from Eveningstar."

Val's eyes glanced back at the assassin, whose arms were folded across his chest. Mimicking the assassin (who wasn't the kind of person who liked being mimicked), the clean shaven Harper replied," From what we've gathered, Tessaril has gained Dragons from other cities and other areas in Cormyr. Though Roland has just heard from Myrmeen that no Purple Dragon from Arabel were sent to Shadowdale.

"Tessaril claims King Azoun wants to make a fortress out of Castle Krag that will help protect Shadowdale," Roland remarked, shaking his head. "Auntie Mym seems to think it was Vangerdahast's idea."

"We'll see," the halfling said as he turned to the door. "Meanwhile, I'm going to the Twisted Tower to talk meet up with Storm."

"You are already leaving and you haven't once said hello to me Bowie Butterball," said a sly, but feminine voice from up the stairs.

Everyone's eyes looked over, seeing a beautiful halfling with long auburn locks walking down the stairs. She wore tight skin brown leathers and carried a short sword and three daggers, one on her belt and one in each boot.

The halfling female, who was a few inches shorter than Bowie, walked over to the halfling bard. Her hazel eyes looked deeply into his as she said," It's been a long time Bowie."

Bowie sighed and nodded. "It has Olive. But is good to see you. Did you also come with Tessaril?"

Olive Ruskettle, one of the Harpers' most active agents in the regions of Cormyr and Westgate, shook her head at Bowie's question. "Actually I came here to speak with Storm." She kissed his cheek and walked over to join Rouric, Val ,and Roland. Together, the four Harpers ventured into the kitchen, with Val and Roland declaring that the cupboards would be empty before Storm Silverhand returned.

Watching Olive, Bowie felt the assassin's black, red-stitched gauntlet grip his shoulder. "An old friend of yours?"

Bowie closed his eyes. He didn't have to look to see the grin on the assassin's face. "She is..." The halfling opened his eyes and looked back to the door, hearing the door creak slowly as Storm Silverhand entered her home.

"I knew I would find more people here when I came back from the Tower," she said as she looked at the mess of papers on her floor. "But I must admit, I expected to find more women, and with much less clothing on."

The Bard of Shadowdale's words ceased when she spotted Artemis Entreri. Her beautiful eyes stared at him, as if he was an acquaintance she hadn't seen quite sometime.

Entreri, who was used to glares and odd looks coming from those who had never met him but had known him by reputation, was surprised at Storm's reaction to his presence. Yet he raised an eyebrow when he noticed a look of frustration on her face.

Bowie could also see the look that crossed the woman's face, but he knew it had nothing to do with the sheer presence of the assassin. "I take it Mourngrym is going to let Tessaril and her Dragons explore Castle Krag."

"We have little choice," Storm responded in a calm voice. He doesn't want to offend Cormyr, but he believes, like I do, that Tessaril is wasting her time. Castle Krag is a ruin that would take many days to clean out and many months to rebuild. Besides Shadowdale has always been able to defend herself from threats."

Her eyes went to the assassin once more. "Artemis Entreri. Your deeds and exploits have reached my ears. Your name has spread from the great deserts of Calimport to the mountains from Vassa."

Entreri's eyes perked up, his left hand going for the jeweled dagger on his belt. Truly he did not desire a fight with one as powerful and as well connected as Storm Silverhand (though the aspect of such a challenge sent a warm fire through his insides) but if she did challenge him, he would not back down.

"You are not on trial here Artemis," Storm continued, as if she was reading his thoughts. "I merely wanted to say that it's an honor to have you here in my home. I do hope you are comfortable here in Shadowdale."

The Bard of Shadowdale rose from her chair and walked towards the kitchen. "Gentlemen, if you excuse me, I have to go explain to a couple of young Harpers about the dangers and consequences of tying up Purple Dragons and sending letters to the Lord of Eveningstar that are marked with the words 'Shrew' and 'Whore.'"

After Storm Silverhand rose from her chair and walked out of sight, Entreri turned to Bowie. "Interesting woman. Both her and your friend Olive. Are all Harper women like that?"

"Most of them. We get a lot of different characters who join our ranks."

Entreri stretched his arms. "And here I thought the Harpers were merely a guild of bards and rangers who meddled in affairs."

"Who says we're not," Bowie said as he reached into his pocket and drew forth a small silver pin that was molded in the shape of a six stringed harp. "Which reminds me Artemis, there is something I would like to discuss with you."

Chapter 2

Marpenoth 27 1369 DR, Year of the Gauntlet

An hour before midday, Tessaril Winter and her force of Purple Dragons waited on the rocky cliff tops, right outside the ruins of Castle Krag. After taking a beautiful view that overlooked the small town below, the Lord of Eveningstar turned her eyes to the large, but very worn and faded stone structure that was Castle Krag.

Tessaril sighed. Though her eyes couldn't see over the top of this once ancient drow tower, reports from her scouts said that much of the tower's roof was caved in. She quietly noted the lop-sided windows and thick strands of moss growing on Krag's outer walls.

"It seems your building skills were as bad as your ruling Jyordhan," she said quietly, referring to Jyordhan The False Ruler, a former lord of Shadowdale who ruled on behalf of the evil Zhentarim. According to lore, The False Ruler was finally killed by Khelben Arunsun of Waterdeep, who then gave lordship to Doust Soulwood, a priest and also a Knight of Myth Drannor.

"Milady, we are ready to enter when you are," said the knight Stephen Sivill as he approached Tessaril.

Tessaril looked at the knight, glad to see him in a better mood after being tied up and left in the towns square two days before. "I am glad to hear it Stephen. Make sure and tell the rest of your men to clean the whole castle of all creatures and monsters. I don't want any disturbances when Nefaria and I make the portal."

"Right milady. I will make sure my men know their orders."

******

With Storm Silverhand in the lead, the company of Harpers trekked along the quiet cliff trail Though she had walked several feet ahead of her companions, Storm's words of frustration could be heard clear to the back of the group where Bowie and Val walked next to the assassin.

"Indeed I agree with Storm that Lady Tessaril sometimes loses her head when it comes to working for her dragon," Val said to Bowie and Entreri, a tone of bitterness in his voice. "Who knows, maybe she'll learn a lesson after she becomes tortured by the ghouls and demons who dwell in Krag." Finishing his suggestion, Val walked up to join Roland, Olive, and Rouric.

"I don't remember Storm saying that," Entreri said to the halfling as they watched Val and Roland begin a discussion about Cormyr's finest cheeses and wine. "He seems to hold a lot of disdain for Lord Tessaril Winter."

Bowie shook his head. "It is no secret that Tessaril Winter and King Azoun are more than just friends, even in the days before he married Queen Filfaeril. Yet before Azoun had even met Tessaril, he was in love with a woman named Molliandra Cuthbert, who is Val's mother. According to Storm, they were lovers for many years, but overtime they decided to remain just friends. Azoun ended up marrying Filfaeril. Molliandra gave birth to her daughter Virgo, whose father remains unknown. Then she married Brendan Rowanmantle and had Val." He paused, seeing the assassin's impatient look, then continued," To answer your question, Val and Roland said they had walked in on an argument between Tessaril and Molliandra that ended with Tessaril calling Val's mother and sister, wanton whores, and his father Brendan a disgrace to the Purple Dragon knighthood and that Val would never amount to anything."

Entreri nodded. "So Val's father was a knight. You think he would have followed in his father's footsteps."

"Val's father was mainly a warrior of Tyr," Bowie quickly added. "Joining the Purple Dragons was more of a favor to Azoun. But I will say this. According to Myrmeen Lhal and Molliandra, Val is truly his father's son, for there was never a more well known prankster in Cormyr than Sir Brendan Rowanmantle."

Satisfied with the halfling's detailed, though very lengthy answer, Entreri continued to listen as the bard quietly sang a song about knights, mages, and a cockatrice. When the group approached the footsteps of Castle Krag. it was no surprise to Entreri, or any of the other Harpers, that the door was already wide open. With their weapons drawn (all but Bowie and Rouric turned their heads as the assassin pulled out his jeweled dagger and his red bladed long sword Charon's Claw), the companions stepped into the ruins.

"You think Lord Mourngrym is going to do anything about Tessaril?" Roland asked Rouric and Storm. Both elder Harpers were about to give their own answers when Olive's scream filled the tower's entrance hall.

All eyes looked to the middle of the hall where torn blue banners lay sprawled on the floor, illuminated by a small beam of sunlight that had penetrated through the broken ceiling. Next to the banners were three corpses, all with gashes and deep scratches in their sides and faces. All of them dressed in Purple Dragon armor.

Entreri, Bowie, and Storm walked over to the bodies while the other Harpers scanned through the hall, peering around the eroded statues and dark corners. As the assassin examined the corpses more closely, his ears picked up something that sounded like moving stone.

Bowie and Storm looked up, seeing two large gargoyles flying down, their eyes focused on the assassin.

The Bard of Shadowdale threw herself on top of the assassin, getting him out of the way just as a pair of strong claws were about to grab him.

Wasting no time, Bowie drove the sharp point of his sword Vithril through one gargoyle's head, then began singing an elvish ballad as he withdrew the weapon.

Another gargoyle raked his claws at Bowie's arm, ripping through the halfling's elven chair armor and the flesh underneath.

Despite the increasing pain and the flow of blood that came from his arm, the halfling continued his singing as Entreri and Storm rose to their feet and attacked the gargoyles with their own blades. Storm drove her magical Luck Blade long sword through the gargoyle that had wounded her student, while Entreri stabbed Charon's Claw through the other stoned creature's shoulder blades, then finished it with a thrust of his dagger.

Bowie drew back his sword and blood stained arm as the two gargoyles fell lifeless to the dirty floor. Hearing the sound of metal beating against stone, Bowie repeated the ballad's chorus as he turned to the other side of the hall, seeing a somewhat scratched up Rouric cleave off a gargoyle's head with his great axe. Next to him, Roland thrust his flaming bastard sword through the body of a one armed gargoyle.

Two feet away from Roland, Val swung Frostburn at a flying gargoyle whose face appeared to have been melted away. The gargoyle slashed his claws at the young man's Rhino Hide armor as he flew past, but Val ducked his head and parried the attack.

Olive Ruskettle, who had just defeated a shorter, but fatter gargoyle, climbed onto Val's shoulders and leapt into the air, grabbing onto the faceless gargoyle.

Despite its best efforts to throw her off, Olive continued to cling onto the stone creature, her hands working in quick movements to draw her daggers from her boot and drove them in the gargoyle's chest. The faceless gargoyle let out a scream as Olive drove her short sword deeply into its gullet. She let out a triumphant yell, but the yell turned into a scream when she realized the dieing gargoyle was about to come crashing down on the floor.

The others watched as Olive fell to the floor, landing on top of the Purple Dragon corpses. Bowie and Entreri were the first to reach the female halfling, who despite the cuts and dirt on her face, let out a beautiful smile.

As Bowie helped Olive to her feet, Entreri watched Storm and the other Harpers examine the several sets of faint footprints that led deeper into the ruins.

The assassin stared at the Bard of Shadowdale. Despite the small of butterflies in his stomach, he guessed that she had to be thinking the same thing he was about the situation. How many more Purple Dragon corpses would they find and would Tessaril Winter be among them?

Chapter 3

Marpenoth 27 1369 DR, Year of the Gauntlet

Willow Kacandra had been a Purple Dragon for only six months when she had been ordered to accompany Lord Tessaril Winter and her company to Shadowdale. She was a thin young half-elf around fifty summers. Her straight red hair that went to the bottom of her shoulders and like her fellow Purple Dragons, she wore shining armor that displayed Cormyr's Purple Dragon on the front.

She stood in an empty rectangular room with two of her fellow Dragons; the bulky half-orc Illiend Manadrows and the one-eyed human Bastal Lourse.

"My friends, I believe we have been separated from the others for too long," Illiend stated in his deep voice. The half-orc drew his two-handed sword and paced slowly around the room.

Willow shook her head at the half-orc's obvious assessment. She had entered Castle Krag with Lord Winter and forty-two other Purple Dragons (among them her best friend Fey), along with the War Wizard Nefaria and Stephen's minotaur slave Sanborn . With each room they had explored, at least one or two of her comrades had fallen to the ruin’s monsters.

"We are exploring the ruins and killing the beasts that dwell here," she said harshly as she pulled herself away from her thoughts," just as Lord Tessaril had ordered us to do."

Bastal looked at the half-orc and patted him on the shoulder. "No worries Illiend, we'll get back to the Skull in time for some supper."

Illiend smiled, but then his round green eyes caught sight of three displacer beasts; panther-like beasts that had just materialized in the room. Thin tentacles protruded from each of their backs as their eyes were filled with blood lust.

Willow and Bastal drew their swords while Illiend charged the beasts.

******

In the throne room that was six rooms down from where the three Purple Dragons were engaged in a life or death battle against the displacer beasts, Tessaril Winter, the Purple Dragon Stephen, and the beautiful dark haired elven wizard Nefaria were discussing their plan on opening the portal that lay one floor below.

Also in the throne room were Feyvara Roxanna and Sanborn. Sanborn was a seven-foot brown haired minotaur who was sold to Stephen during a trip to Calimshan. Feyvara; or Fey as she was known to her friend Willow, was a short and slender young woman in her early twenties, with long blond hair that she kept in a tight ponytail. Together, she and Sanborn were investigating a small area near a wall that bore faded yellow banners. Each banner had a large black Z stitched in the middle.

Leaning close to the minotaur, Fey noticed the worried expression on his face. "I know you're worried about Willow and the others," she said as she scratched his arm. "I'm worried about them too." Fey and Willow had been best friends since the half-elf moved to Eveningstar. Despite the vast age gap, they had spent years together, battling imaginary foes, eventually joining the knighthood together.

The minotaur looked at Fey, about to say something when tiny pebbles rained on his head.

"More gargoyles," Stephen shouted from the middle of the room as he drew his blade. "Is Krag a breeding ground for these things?"

"Maybe or they are one of Krag's defenses," Nefaria said as she and Tessaril ran to the room's entrance.

Sanborn tried to run to his master, as he threw large hands into the air, grabbing a passing gargoyle. The gargoyle beat his wings and clawed at the minotaur, trying to escape. Sanborn's strength prevailed and the minotaur threw the creature right into a smaller gargoyle that was flying in Fey's direction. The young Purple Dragon grabbed her shield from the ground and held it in front of her as both stone creatures collided and their bodies shattered upon impact.

Stephen's eyes looked up, seeing ten more gargoyles descending from the hallow ceiling, immediately attacking the minotaur.

Sanborn let out a scream as three pairs of sharp claws ripped at his face. Letting out a scream filled with anger and pain, the minotaur threw sloppy punch after sloppy punch. He managed to shatter the head of one gargoyle, but he quickly felt the fatigue flowing through his body.

Four feet from the minotaur, Fey swiped her long sword in a high arc, and shattered the head and shoulders of the gargoyle she was fighting. She looked to the door, watching Stephen walk away from the room.

"Coward!" she spat as she ran to help the minotaur. Praying to the Broken god Illmater, Fey aimed her weapon and swung fiercely, cleaving another gargoyle in half.

"Better do die fighting beside a slave, then to flee in battle," she said thrust her shield into the face and chest of a gargoyle that was digging its claws into the minotaur's skin.

From the doorway, Sir Stephen Sivill smiled. The young knight's words had no affect on him.

Closing his eyes, he turned to join Tessaril and Nefaria, who had already begun making their way to Krag's basement.

******

Upon reaching bottom of the stairwell, the Harpers continued through a large hallway. Along the path, Val and Roland counted six bodies; two that had their insides ripped out, and four that appeared to have been turned to stone. All of them were Purple Dragons.

"Do you think we should check the rooms?" Roland asked Val, indicating the several open doors on both sides of the hallway.

"We're likely to find more corpses than knights," Val answered in a loud voice, which drew everyone else's attention to him. He gave a chuckle as they shook their heads, but then raised Frostburn as a loud scream came from down the hallway.

Wasting no time, the Harpers raced down the hall, entering a room where a wounded female Purple Dragon was attempting to fight off two displacer beasts.

Roland and Val threw themselves in front of the woman while Entreri and Bowie moved around the beasts.

The assassin swung Charon's Claw in a low sweep, severing one beast's tentacles. Before the wounded displacer beast could react, Entreri stabbed Charon's Claw once more, covering both creatures in a thick cloud of ash.

Just as the assassin was completing his movements, Bowie came in fast, slashing his short sword through the thick cloud. He could hear a growl of anguish as his blade ripped through the beast's flesh. He gave another quick thrust of his sword, then pulled back.

When the ash cloud dissipated, the halfling smiled as the displacer beast's corpse lay still on the floor.

"Where did the other one go?" Val asked, watching as the Purple Dragon and Roland were locking eyes with one another.

Olive Ruskettle, who was about scold Roland about saving the loving for later, let out a painful scream as barbed tentacles sliced the skin from her calves. She tumbled forward, getting herself away from the beast, then turned around and lunged at the beast, slicing her dagger and short sword-only to find nothing there.

The displacer beast appeared behind Olive once more, its tentacles ready to strike. The auburn haired halfling quickly turned around in-time, stabbing both her weapons through the beast's eyes throat.

Rouric stepped next to Olive and drove his axe through the back of the displacer beast while Val and Storm drove their respected weapons through the beast's spinal column.

Storm Silverhand looked at the Purple Dragon, whose yellow-green eyes were now staring wide-eyed at the dead bodies of her comrades. "Lady knight, I know this must be difficult, but I most know, are there anymore survivors in the rooms."

"Is Tessaril Winter still alive?" Rouric added.

"I'm not sure," young knight said with a shiver in her voice. "You could check the other rooms...they might be in another level of the castle, but the beholders might have gotten them."

The Harpers exchanged glances, with Storm and Rouric muttering," Beholders?"

The halfling closed his eyes, hearing Sylune's voice. "There is a secret to the lower levels. There are also beholders some of the rooms, as well as more gargoyles. Yet I never knew Castle Krag to be a place where one could find beholders" Once Sylune was done speaking to him, Bowie quickly relayed the information to everyone.

"Not that anyone would want to go looking for one," Val remarked as he examined the bodies of the other two knights.

"Why don't you, Entreri, and Rouric follow Sylune," Storm said as she glanced at Entreri. "We will look for other survivors. And do be careful."

As Storm walked away, Bowie, Entreri, and Rouric left the room.

Catching up, the dwarf gave Entreri a gentle nudge with his shoulder and said," Looks like you have an admirer."

Normally a gesture like the one Rouric had just done would provoke a threat from the assassin's lips, but Entreri merely reflected on the dwarf's words.

******

Tessaril Winter looked around the vast basement of Castle Krag. Just as with the other rooms, banners and tapestries depicting the symbol of the Zhentarim were scattered all over the wall. At the opposite end of the room, a large mirror was propped up against the wall. Etched along the mirror's golden frame were runes and sigils.

"This mirror," she said quietly," has it always been here?"

Stephen glanced at Nefaria, who wore a wicked grin on her face. "It was said that Jyordhan had this mirror put in moments after Castle Krag's construction was complete," Nefaria answered in a quiet voice. "It was going to be a portal for the Zhentarim to invade Shadowdale."

Tessaril nodded. "And now it will be used to bring Dragons from Cormyr-" The Lord of Eveningstar found her limbs and joints frozen at her sides.

Stephen laughed as he circled Tessaril. "Actually Lady Winter, this portal will be used as Jyordhan intended it to be used. Soldiers will come from Zhentil Keep to invade Shadowdale." He laughed as Nefaria finished weaving the spell that kept the Lord of Eveningstar in place.

The elf shook her head as she stood back and looked at the portal. "I must commend you Stephen. Putting our soldiers and spies among the knighthood sounded difficult, but you managed to pull it off."

"I'm surprised Old Thunderspells hasn't learned of it. Probably too busy chasing apprentice's," Stephen said as he stroked Tessaril Winter's cheek. "What was more surprising was how easily the real Purple Dragons fell to our forces, though they did have some help from the creatures that dwell in this castle.

Nefaria walked over to the mirror. "Preparations for the portal will be made soon."

Chapter 4

Marpenoth 27 1369 DR, Year of the Gauntlet

Shouting another painful cry to her god from her bleeding lips, Fey gave one final swing of her sword, finishing off another gargoyle. She then looked at the minotaur, who was struggling to throw off the eight remaining gargoyles. "I have to-" she stopped, realizing she had lost so much blood from the wounds on her chest and shoulders.

Feyvara took two steps forward, dropped her shield and sword, then slumped to a knee, her vision becoming blurry and distorted. Her ears perked up as the sound of voices filling the room.

She never learned who had entered the room, for as soon as she took three steps back, she felt a pair of sharp claws rip through the back of her throat.

******

The moment he had entered the room, Val saw the Purple Dragon fall to the floor, the gargoyle on her back shouting in victory.

Val drew Frostburn and swung in a high arc, batting the gargoyle off of the dead Purple Dragon. The stone creature snarled and charged Val, but the young Harper met the creature's charge with a vertical slash, cutting the gargoyle though the middle.

With the gargoyle's split corpse falling at his feet, Val looked over at the young knight's face, enchanted by her beautiful blue eyes. He watched as Willow walk over and hold her comerade's body close to her.

"Don't worry Val, she's in good hands," Roland shouted as he slashed Flamestrike across one gargoyle's jaw line, then stepped closer to another gargoyle, driving his flaming sword through its midsection.

Seeing Fey's body laying helpless in Willow's arms, Sanborn let out a scream of rage. Using what strength he could gather and three off gargoyles, then grabbed two more gargoyles and crushed their heads together.

As Sanborn was gaining his second wind against his foes, a misshapen gargoyle landed in front of Val. The Harper grinned as he quickly moved his sword to block the claws, then followed through with a might thrust to the gargoyle's chest. His blade ripped deeply through the stone creature's hard flesh.

******

Olive Ruskettle and Storm Silverhand entered a large dark room cluttered with stone statues and dead bodies

"I think we found the room with the beholders," Olive said to Storm as they passed a corpse that was ripped in half.

The Bard of Shadowdale sighed, but then felt a pulse of fear go through her. "I think there is something else in this room," she said as he looked into the shadows ahead.

From the darkness stepped a very old and very large dragon. Its night blue scales blended well with the shadows, while its reptilian eyes stared down, focusing on the human and the halfling in her presence.

"It seems the famous Storm Silverhand has come into the domain of Andeinbluez, and with a delicious looking halfling," the dragon purred in a seductive voice. "Has she some here to avenge the knights who had fallen to the Zhentarim soldiers and beholders?"

"Did you kill all of these men great Andeinbluez?" asked Olive, who was no stranger in dealing with dragons. As memories of her days when she was held captive by the red dragon Mist flooded into her mind.

The dragon closed her eyes and chanted a spell. Storm and Olive were expecting to the dragon to shower them with lightning, but instead, Andeinbluez chanting produced a large blue glowing orb that illuminated the room. As the light continued to brighten the area, both Harpers noticed that many of the Purple Dragons who were lying dead on the floor, appeared to have been engaged in combat with one another. At the back of the room was vast pile of large bulgy corpses that looked like they were ripped to pieces.

"I was actually killing the beholders who had followed the knights into the room," Andeyinbluez finally answered as she lifted her legs, exposing the many dents and cuts that ruined some of her scales. "As for the slain bodies on the floor, it turns out that some of the knights were said to have been working for the Black Network. After watching the betrayal, I could not just keep myself back as weaker 'Dragons' were being slaughtered."

"You say you make your home here?" asked Storm Silverhand.

Andeyinbluez stiffened at these words. "Within these walls, I have made my nests for many years. Perhaps after my eggs are hatched and grow into maturity, I will leave and not return until I come to lay new eggs. If you see that my home is left alone, then I will not have any reason to make myself known." Storm looked at Olive, neither of them saying anything of the dragon's threat.

As Andeyinbluez descended back into the shadows, Storm and Olive left the room and went in search for their companions.

******

Her body still paralyzed, Tessaril watched as Nefaria and Stephen stood next to the mirror, discussing their ideas of what power they would gain once the Zhentarim took over Shadowdale.

"Our forces will easily invade this pitiful town," Nefaria said in a quiet voice. "Lord Fzoul should have the men ready." The elf looked over, seeing two large beholders enter the room, their eye stocks moving back and forth as they joined the two Zhentarim.

"Nefaria and Stephen, you've arrived just as planned," said a deep voice from around the room.

Both the Zhentarim spies and beholders turned to the mirror, where a tall man clad in thick black robes appeared inside the mirror, beside their reflections. His face was covered by a black gorget, which appeared similar to a hideously looking rubber mask.

"Lord Manshoon," Stephen said as he bowed to the High Lord of the Zhentarim. "Your...arrival is most unexpected."

"Save the pleasantries Stephen, you know that I never approved of this mission." Manshoon turned to regard the wizard. "Fzoul may hold power over his petty cult of Xvimites, but I am in command of the entire organization. Which is why I must tell you that there will be no army coming to Shadowdale." For a moment, the wizard remained silent, as if he was waiting for someone to enter the room. He then turned his attention back to Steven and smiled. "The Zhentarim have no room for cowardice Stephen." With that the High Lord raised his left hand, and Stephen screamed as black flames engulfed his body.

"You dare interfere with Lord Fzoul's plan," spat the elven wizard as Stephen vanished before her very eyes. "You should know-" she froze in fear as the transparent form of a beautiful woman hovered over her. "You're Sylune of Shadowdale."

The ghost smiled, then motioned for Nefaria to look to the other side of the room where Bowie, Entreri, and Rouric had entered.

The elf spat once more, then turned to Sylune, ready to unleash a spell upon the Witch of Shadowdale. Yet her vision was distorted as a wave of silver fire sprouted from Sylune's fingertips.

Chapter 5

Marpenoth 27 1369 DR, Year of the Gauntlet

It had taken all of Bowie Butterball's willpower to prevent him from going over to the mirror and smashing it to pieces. Bowie, I know what you're thinking, Sylune said to him as he inched his way over to one of the beholders. Just stay near Rouric and Artemis.

The halfling moved to one of the beholders and slashed Vithril, cutting off two of the eyestalks. The beholder floated back and fired a purple beam at the bard, but Bowie's quickness helped him dodge the beam that would have disintegrated his body. Bowie smiled as he watched Entreri move behind the beholder and scrape the edge of Charon's claw across the monster's back. The beholder screamed as dark black lines went all over its body. A faint yellow smoke flew from the beholder's wound as it slowly fell to the ground.

Next to him, Rouric had charged the other beholder, driving his axe across his foe's left side. The beholder snapped its jaw at the dwarf's face, but Rouric stepped right to avoid the attack, then plunged the blade of his axe through the beholder's center eye. Just as Rouric was pulling his weapon free, Entreri and Bowie walked over, the assassin stabbing his dagger into the beholder's gaping wound while Bowie finished it off with a slash across the area above the jaw.

As the beholder fell lifeless, Bowie and Entreri looked over, seeing Sylune unleash two strong lightning bolts that repeatedly went through Nefaria's body.

"Magelings," Manshoon whispered as Nefaria fell to the floor, her eyes melted away from the ghost's chain lightning.

"Aren't you going to destroy the mirror?" Tessaril shouted, her body now free from the paralysis that held her before.

Sylune Silverhand turned to the mirror as Bowie walked to join her. The halfling stared deeply into the mirror, his eyes filled with a mixture of hatred and agony at the man on the other side.

"We should get Tessaril out of here," Bowie said to Rouric and Entreri, his eyes never leaving Manshoon. The assassin stood in the same spot while Rouric quickly led Tessaril out of the room.

"I've been looking forward to meeting you Bowie," Manshoon began in a voice that sounded like it was filled with a deep sadness. "Yet greater powers have made it so our paths would likely never cross," he nodded towards Sylune, who floated by Bowie's side.

"Indeed you are Shayna's son," the High Lord of the Zhentarim continued. "You have her fighting spirit, her learning ability, her killer instinct. Storm Silverhand has taught you well. Yet your eyes are just like Shayna's as well."

"We've met before Manshoon," Bowie said in a calm voice, raising Vithril as the sword's tip touched the mirror. "You murdered my mother and father before my very eyes. Remember, I took this sword-my mother's sword-and cut your eye. So I shall again. I will finish you, even if it takes me a thousand tries."

Manshoon was silent as he stared at the halfling.

"I have failed my king at the cost of many lives," Tessaril said from other side of the room.

"Maybe Cormyr will learn to leave the protection of the Dale to the people of the Dales," Rouric said, shaking his head. His words received a gold glare from the Lord of Eveningstar, but he merely shrugged his shoulders.

Entreri watched as Sylune and Bowie, continued to stare into the mirror.

Bowie then let out an angry scream as he stabbed Vithril into the mirror at the reflection of Manshoon. Several splits and cracks emerged all over the mirror before it finally shattered.

Outside of the ruins of Castle Krag, the group of Harpers, along with Sanborn and Willow, kept close to the large campfire. As Olive talked to Roland, Willow, and Sanborn about their encounter with the dragon, Val continued to keep watch over Fey's body.

"I'll pay for her to be resurrected," Val said as Storm approached him, but walked away, leaving the young man to his loss.

The Bard of Shadowdale nodded and looked to the entrance of the ruins, seeing Bowie, Entreri, Rouric, and Tessaril walking towards them. Storm noticed the somber look on the face of the halfling. She didn't have to ask what was wrong. She knew Bowie had met Manshoon in the basement of Castle Krag, for she heard the Zhentarim wizard call her name.

With a sigh, the Bard of Shadowdale called to everyone, telling them it was time to go back.

******

Val, Roland, and Willow sat quietly in the lobby of Morningdawn Hall, Shadowdale's temple to the sun god Lathander. Val quietly noted the many brightly colored paintings of sunrises and sunsets that filled the temple's walls.

"Do you think she was able to get resurrected?" Willow asked Roland as three of the temple's acolytes passed them.

Roland leaned close, his hand on hers. "Tracelynn Wiseman is one of the Morninglord's more powerful priests. A resurrection spell should be no problem for him."

As if on cue, a tall, round bellied priest with short black hair and a goatee, emerged from within the chamber where Fey's body lay.

"She almost didn't come back," Tracelynn said as he placed his hands in the pockets of his golden colored vestments. "It seems Illmater has plans for her."

Stepping from within the room, Fey was dressed in her armor, but in place of the standard tabard that bore the Purple Dragon, she now wore a tabard that bore the image of two wrists joined together by a red cord.

"A champion of Illmater," Roland commented as he noticed the many scars on Fey's arms and face.

Willow, whose eyes were dripping with salty tears, was about to welcome back her friend into the world of the living with a deep hug, when Val quickly rose from his seat, grabbed Fey, and pressed his lips passionately with hers.

******

"So Val and Roland are going with the two Purple Dragons and the minotaur back to Eveningstar?" Olive Ruskettle asked Bowie as she stood outside under the midnight sky.

Bowie smiled. He was now in a much better mood than he was hours ago when he had his brief confrontation in the ruins of Castle Krag. "Both Storm and Mourngrym insisted she have a strong escort to take her back to Suzail, where she will report to Azoun about the failure of the mission and the spies the Zhentarim might have planted in the Purple Dragons." He sighed as he Entreri and Rouric walked over to them.

"Storm should have the teleportation spell ready," the dwarf said in a cheerful voice. I'm glad you're going with us to Calimport Olive. I couldn't think of a better traveling companion, except for Florin Falconhand of course."

Olive and Bowie laughed while Entreri rolled his eyes. As the female halfling and the dwarf walked away, Entreri looked at Bowie. "You seem in high spirits. I would think that you wanted to storm off to Zhentil Keep and deal with Manshoon."

Bowie smirked. "Who says I didn't, but remember what I told you before. We're taking you back to Calimport and talking with Dwahvel."

"How could I forget," Entreri smiled as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the small pin Bowie had given him before. The assassin quickly fastened it to the front of his cloak. "Does this mean you would me to establish a Harper base in Calimport? Perhaps gain all the information on the different pashas and guild of the city"

Bowie raised an eyebrow, surprised at the assassin's words. He then shook his head. "I figured Artemis Entreri would know everything about Calimport's guilds and rulers. No, we have plenty of members in Calimport, though I'm sure your new found membership will surprise many."

Entreri's eyes grew cold. "They would expect such an honor to go Drizzt DoUrden, or even Regis Rumblebelly."

"I'd piss on Regis Rumblebelly, and then make him dance," he said with a snort.

This brought a maniacal laugh from the assassin's as he pictured Bowie striking Regis with his sword, causing the halfling who he had once captured, to dance as he slowly bled to death.

In an effort to change the subject, the assassin asked," Do you still think Manshoon killed your mother and father."

Bowie smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "We shall see my friend. We shall see."

Epilogue

Marpenoth 28 1369 DR, Year of the Gauntlet

In a blinding flash of light, Bowie Butterball, Olive Ruskettle, Artemis Entreri, and Rouric Balderk found themselves standing in a thick grassy area, surrounded by dozens trees.

"Since when did Calimport grow all of these trees and grass?" asked Rouric as he scanned the area.

"This is not Calimport," Entreri said with a hiss. He glared at Olive, who was closely examining the area around them.

"Storm's teleportation spell should have worked," she said, looking at the assassin as she crossed her arms. "The only thing I can think of is that Mystra, or some other god, intervened and sent us here for a reason."

Entreri shook his head. "Maybe we should have traveled with Florin Falconhand," he muttered as he walked away.

Ignoring the female halfling's assessment and the assassin's comment, Bowie closed his eyes, humming a short ballad as he released a Lore spell.

When the spell was complete, he opened his eyes and said with a worried expression on his face," We're somewhere in the middle of the Western Heartlands."

Rouric was about to ask where they were in the Heartlands, when an echo of screams, followed by roars filled their ears.

"Most likely we're in the Forest of Wyrms," Artemis Entreri said, drawing Charon's Claw as thundering footsteps came towards him.

For Doro and Jill

Author's Notes:

I admit that I have quite of explaining to do. So before you begin your discussion on "What should be done with this Blackstaff" I'll try and clear the air.

For those who thought the fight scenes were too quick, remember there are a group of 7 characters going up against gargoyles and a couple of beholders (not to mention all of those characters possess powerful magical items...its like Undermountain all over again).

First, I know the whole, Val/Fey and Roland/Willow seemed kind of quick and spur of the moment, but remember they're all pretty young and naive (especially the two male Harpers) In all retrospect, the character of Val was based off of a character my friend Tom played, and let me just say that Val Cycloveer (Tom's character) had plenty of love interests since the age of twelve. As far as Val's animosity towards Tessaril...when I personally learned that Azoun was notorious for sleeping around, I wasn't mad or appalled, but I was surprised to find that no one seemed too traumatized by it. Rest assured that Val (and Roland for that matter) have all the respect in the world for Cormyr and it's king...they just like being rebellious and sharing their feelings.

Next there's the whole thing about Artemis Entreri being a Harper. Yes he is a member, though he more and likely won't be given a full blown ceremony like others. His "induction" was actually similar to Olive's when she was given the pin by Finder Wyrvenspur. Although it may seem that Entreri would be unfitting to be a Harper, I'll just say that after reading his entry in the Forgotten Realms Campaign Setting, I believe that he has all the makings of a Harper, save the fact that he doesn't like playing musical instruments. This doesn't mean that he'll end up being a good guy, or that Bowie will try and turn him good. That decision is left up to Artemis Entreri. I'm also leaving the tension between him and Storm up in the air…This is kind of going with that whole Drizzt and Artemis being equal again, but compared to Drizzt's meeting with Alustriel, Entreri's meeting with the Bard of Shadowdale was much much different.

Also, for those who might be upset about Bowie's remark that he would "piss" on Regis Rumblebelly, I'll try and do what I can to defend myself. Part of Bowie's statement was to humor the assassin (which it most certainly did) but Bowie meant what he said. When I write fan fiction, I never try and have my characters be stronger or have an edge over infamous Realms characters unless it's for a good reason, nor do I try and belittle famous heroes of the Forgotten Realms (except for characters like Mirt the Moneylender and Vangerdahast...they're just too fun to pick on sometimes). If anyone thinks that Bowie is along the lines of a Mary Sue, then that wasn't my intent. Bowie Butterball bleeds like everyone else and has his obsessions like any other man. He will admit that his revenge for Manshoon is a driving force in his life, but that being a Harper and a teacher has also given him new meaning...which is part of the reason Bowie invited Entreri to join the Harpers. If Bowie was the perfect example of a Harper, he wouldn't have invited Entreri into the organization, nor defied the authority like his pupils Roland and Val. I will say that the actions of bringing an "evil" character like Artemis Entreri into the Harpers will come back and bite Bowie on the ass, as well as the actions of his fellow students.

So yes in a fight, Bowie would whoop Regis, but that doesn't mean I'll ever write such a scene.