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The Wizardwar :: Каннингем Элейн
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"Those who examined the ruins of the mint saw only the charred bones of a young dragon," Dhamari said without preamble. "It did not occur to them to inquire what color the dead dragon might have been."
"I fail to see the point."
"The dragon was shapeshifted from red to green. This detail will not be in any report you might read."
Procopio leaned back, beginning to see where this was going and, for the first time, truly interested in the little wizard's words.
"The raw ore came from an area with heavy mineral deposits. When the dragon was changed from red to green in mid exhalation, its fiery breath changed to gas. This mingled with the gases rising from the vat and formed a poisonous and extremely volatile miasma. I imagine the dwarves working over the kettle dropped like stones."
"You have a disturbing imagination," Procopio murmured. "Yes, I can envision the scene. The kettle knocked over, and the heat from the molten ore set the place afire. The gas incapacitated the workers, cutting off their spells and their escape. A grim but effective ploy, yet it has one rather large and glaring fault. Assuming you're right, the magic that would transmute red dragon to green would have to be a necromancer's spell of enormous power. Who could have done this?"
Dhamari spread his hands modestly. "As you may know, the Exchelsor family owns much of Halruaa's mining lands. Since I supplied the ore, getting a magical device into the mint was easy enough."
A burst of incredulous laughter escaped Procopio. "You were responsible for this spell?"
"If you will not believe me, will you listen to the only survivor? Like all members of the Council of Elders, Rhodea Firehair has a ring that will teleport her to Zalathorm's court in times of need. Her last, heroic deed was to hurl the ring at her daughter. She could not know that a rather similar magical device had been prepared to intercept any who might try to escape. Shall we hear what the little red-haired wench has to say on this subject?"
"By all means!"
Dhamari drew a small red globe from, the folds of his robe and threw it to the floor. The crystal shattered, and a disheveled young woman staggered into the room.
She looked wildly around. Relief suffused her face when she recognized the lord mayor.
"Lord Procopio! Mystra be praised! You must summon help, and quickly! The mint is burning!"
Procopio rose and led the girl to a chair. "It has been already seen to, my dear. Please, tell me what happened."
He listened as Thalia Firehair told her story, which matched Dhamari's in most particulars.
"Those who examined the ruins of the mint saw only the charred bones of a young dragon," Dhamari said without preamble. "It did not occur to them to inquire what color the dead dragon might have been."
"I fail to see the point."
"The dragon was shapeshifted from red to green. This detail will not be in any report you might read."
Procopio leaned back, beginning to see where this was going and, for the first time, truly interested in the little wizard's words.
"The raw ore came from an area with heavy mineral deposits. When the dragon was changed from red to green in mid exhalation, its fiery breath changed to gas. This mingled with the gases rising from the vat and formed a poisonous and extremely volatile miasma. I imagine the dwarves working over the kettle dropped like stones."
"You have a disturbing imagination," Procopio murmured. "Yes, I can envision the scene. The kettle knocked over, and the heat from the molten ore set the place afire. The gas incapacitated the workers, cutting off their spells and their escape. A grim but effective ploy, yet it has one rather large and glaring fault. Assuming you're right, the magic that would transmute red dragon to green would have to be a necromancer's spell of enormous power. Who could have done this?"
Dhamari spread his hands modestly. "As you may know, the Exchelsor family owns much of Halruaa's mining lands. Since I supplied the ore, getting a magical device into the mint was easy enough."
A burst of incredulous laughter escaped Procopio. "You were responsible for this spell?"
"If you will not believe me, will you listen to the only survivor? Like all members of the Council of Elders, Rhodea Firehair has a ring that will teleport her to Zalathorm's court in times of need. Her last, heroic deed was to hurl the ring at her daughter. She could not know that a rather similar magical device had been prepared to intercept any who might try to escape. Shall we hear what the little red-haired wench has to say on this subject?"
"By all means!"
Dhamari drew a small red globe from, the folds of his robe and threw it to the floor. The crystal shattered, and a disheveled young woman staggered into the room.
She looked wildly around. Relief suffused her face when she recognized the lord mayor.
"Lord Procopio! Mystra be praised! You must summon help, and quickly! The mint is burning!"
Procopio rose and led the girl to a chair. "It has been already seen to, my dear. Please, tell me what happened."
He listened as Thalia Firehair told her story, which matched Dhamari's in most particulars.