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Danilo Thann joins forces with a deadly enemy to discover who is causing the ancient ballads--the rich memory of noble quests and heroic deeds preserved by the Harper bards--to be forgotten or changed throughout Faerun. Original. 75,000 first printing.
drawn by the heat of the elf’s glare. “The terrain about a league to the northwest suggests the presence of caves,” Vartain said mildly, pointing toward the rock-strewn hills beyond the village. “Considering the proximity of potential lairs, prudence demands that we have earplugs available.” Elaith stared at the riddlemaster for a moment, waiting for the man to come to the point. Vartain, however, seldom explained what seemed obvious to him unless he was asked direct, specific questions. It was
entered the clearing his scales took on the brilliant, gemlike shades of emerald, jade, and malachite. Crown jewels, Danilo noted, and the analogy fit the regal creature. When Grimnoshtadrano was fully in the clearing, he began to circle the three adventurers like a wolf closing in, studying them all the while. His eyes were golden green, slashed by vertical pupils and bright with a cold, alien intelligence. “Well?” the dragon inquired. His voice was a deep, inhuman rumble that reminded Danilo
weapons in their own defense. These incidents seem to fall along a path between Berdusk and Waterdeep.” The riddlemaster paused and considered. “For that matter, the failure of crops around Waterdeep has been profound this year, and unmatched elsewhere in the Northlands but for that one area in the Moonshaes.” “Marvelous,” Danilo muttered. “And what happened at Canaith?” “The caster regained the power to influence crowds through song. Once a common type of bardic magic, it fell dormant during
accept this purse; the gold within should cover your lost business.” The next instant, he was gone. “Well, I never,” Ginalee huffed in mock indignation, her voice slightly unsteady but her sense of fun fully intact. “He just upped and disappeared! No flash of light, no puffs of colored smoke, not even a whiff of brimstone! They’ve got more interesting wizards over in Thay, or so I hear.” “Ginalee,” Imzeel said in a weary voice, “why don’t you take the rest of the night off.” Ten Danilo
traditional conundrum required. Sure enough, she gave the same intelligent and incorrect answer that Vartain had given the dragon. Vartain smiled broadly, vastly increasing his resemblance to a buzzard. “The answer to the question, ‘Why was King Khalzol buried in a copper coffin?’ is far simpler that you would make it, and I regret that it has nothing to do with the site of his grave. They buried him because he was dead.” Garnet snatched up the harp. She struck a single ringing note and flung a