I Read What?!

So last time, we started to see the curse have an effect. So far, it's fairly lowkey, but it seems likely to escalate soon enough, and there's a nice building dread to the whole thing.



We start this chapter off with Aballister and Dorigen. Dorigen is, if I remember correctly, a female underling of Aballister. She's been monitoring Barjin and is reporting that he's preparing to open a gate.

We get an interesting exchange here:

“Do you really believe it’s necessary to send the imp?”

“Do you trust Barjin?” Aballister answered.

“Talona would not have allowed him to take the elixir if he was not loyal to the cause,” Dorigen replied.

“Don’t presume that the goddess is so directly interested in our cause,” warned Aballister, rising from and walking nervously around his chair. “The Time of Troubles has passed and much has changed. Talona’s avatar was pleased to bring me into her dark fold, but I am not her only concern, and I do not presume to be her chief concern. She directed me to Druzil, and he provided the chaos curse. Its fate is in my … in our hands now.”

So the Time of Troubles is kind of a big setting event in the Forgotten Realms. I'll try to summarize it roughly: the overgod AO gets pissed about something and turns all the gods mortal. They roam around for awhile and things get really chaotic. Some of them end up dead for good*, some mortals (i.e. Cyric, Kelemvor and the new Mystra) get elevated to godhood.

Needless to say many of the gods who are dead "for good" end up still causing a great deal of trouble, as can be seen in the earlier Baldur's Gate games and Mask of the Betrayer.

At some point, I might actually read the Avatar series for this blog, but as a warning, it starts off terribly - you realize reading it why Salvatore started taking over the novel side of D&D, as he's actually capable of telling a coherent story. It concludes with the single best D&D book I've ever read. Crucible: the Trial of Cyric the Mad is fucking amazing, and I'll die on that hill.

Anyway, what's interesting about this, to me, is how the wizards, Aballister and Dorigen, both seem to have far more genuine faith in their deity than the literal priest does. Barjin has the powers of a cleric, because Talona finds him useful, NOT because of any sincere faith.

We get a bit of a description for Dorigen here:

Aballister considered Dorigen for a long moment, surprised that she was as fearful as he about Barjin. She was a middle-aged wizard, thin and drawn, with darting eyes and a tangle of graying black hair that she never bothered to brush.

It's a little thing but I actually appreciate that Dorigen gets to be a middle-aged woman here, as opposed to some young ingenue or sexy femme fatale. It's a far cry from the Crystal Shard days when the only women we see were Catti-brie and some nameless sex slaves.

Anyway, Aballister's perspective on their struggle is interesting. He does believe that Barjin is a member of Talona's clergy, but also admits that if Barjin murdered him, Talona would be displeased, but she wouldn't seek vengeance. Noting that's the price of serving a goddess such as theirs.

Which leads me to a question that I always have, with regards to the Forgotten Realms. Why on Earth would anyone serve a goddess like that?

It makes sense that most drow follow Lolth, because drow society is damn near monotheistic. They know other gods exist, but those other gods are either the powerful figures who cast drow out to begin with and thus there's no real hope that they'd bother helping them (i.e. Corellon or the Seldarine), or they're gods who are weaker and subordinate to Lolth (Vhaerun, Kiaransalee...whose spelling I know I botched. Arguably even Eilistraee falls into this category, at least from the point of view of an average drow.) Secret worship happens, but there's no real hope that these lesser gods can ever protect you from Lolth.

But surface people know of OTHER gods. Gods that don't torment and abandon their followers! I get why folks of, shall we say, a darker persuasion wouldn't really want to follow Lathander or that ilk. But there are plenty of neutral gods who don't live off their followers' misery. Why not follow THEM?

What is the appeal of following Talona? You get a goddess who will cheerfully watch your demise, then torture you in one of the outer planes for all eternity. At least if you worship Kelemvor, you'll just drift along in limbo for eternity. You won't get tortured!

Anyway, Aballister continues to explain the dynamics of priests and wizards. They're always vying for power, and had been since the beginning of Castle Trinity. He acknowledges that Barjin has the upper hand, but he's not conceded yet. He orders Dorigen to go talk to her under-plane contacts and report in on any movements.

Aballister considers scrying Barjin himself to confirm things, but he doesn't want Barjin to detect it. Druzil seems impressed that Barjin is daring enough to open a gate so close to his enemies. He also thinks that the gate must mean that the curse has begun.

So they're going with the plan of intercepting the gate and having Druzil pretend to be a visitor from the lower planes. We get this nice exchange about Aballister's mixed motives:

“I am not as confident of Barjin’s powers as he appears to be,” Aballister replied. “If he summons too many denizens of the lower planes, even minor ones to serve him, his control will be sorely taxed. No doubt he’s raising undead to serve him as well. That type of army could be beyond him when the priests of the Edificant Library strike back. Barjin may be reaching too far. I fear it all could crumble around him.”

“Fear?” Druzil asked slyly. “Or hope?”

Aballister’s hollowed eyes narrowed. “Examine the situation from another point of view, my dear Druzil,” he purred. “From your own. Do you wish to find competitors from your filthy home at Barjin’s side? Might not another imp, or a midge perhaps, know you and know that you have been in service to me?”

The wizard enjoyed the way the imp’s features suddenly seemed to droop.

“Barjin would know you as my agent then,” Aballister went on. “If you were fortunate, he would only banish you.”

I really do find Aballister interesting as a villain protagonist. I like how he thinks things through and doesn't rise to bait.

So anyway, he gives Druzil some last instructions including some powders that will open and close Barjin's gate as needed. Druzil, for his part, is aware of Aballister's jealousy and fear, but his only concern is the curse. So he may end up working on his own behalf.

-

We scene shift to Cadderly, who wakes up from a terrible nightmare. Unfortunately, he still doesn't remember those dreams. And when he looks at his "clocking measurements" he realizes that he was asleep for fifteen hours!

That could be bad.

Percival's around, eating an acorn.

Cadderly's wondering now how much of what he remembered from the day before had really happened, or just been a product of his own fear. He admits Danica can be stubborn, and the dwarves can be unpredictable.

But even as he's thinking this, he gets a guest: the Headmaster Avery. And Avery's definitely acting strange!

“Cadderly!” Avery cried, rushing to him. “Are you all right, my boy?”

“It is nothing,” Cadderly replied, keeping out of Avery’s reaching hands. “I just fell out of bed.”

Avery’s distress did not diminish. “That is terrible!” the headmaster cried. “We cannot have that, oh, no!” Avery’s eyes darted about frantically then he snapped his fingers and smiled widely. “We will get the dwarves to put up a railing. Yes, that’s it! We cannot have you falling out of bed and injuring yourself. You’re much too valuable an asset to the Order of Deneir for us to allow such potential tragedy!”

“It’s nothing,” a timid Cadderly replied.

“Oh, yes,” Avery spouted, “you would say that. Such a fine lad! Never concerned for your own safety!” Avery’s exuberant pat on the back hurt Cadderly more than the fall.

Cadderly is perplexed, and hilariously thinks that he likes Avery better when he's yelling at him. Avery is totally the Mr. Belding to Cadderly's Zack Morris. And while I recognize that this reference dates me, I must point out that "Saved By the Bell" would have been on the air when this book came out. Just sayin'.

(I know Danica's Cadderly's love interest, but I kind of feel like she's more of a Jessie than a Kelly.)

Anyway, Cadderly asks about his tasks, and Avery gushes about how they don't want to busy one of Cadderly's potential. And that he doesn't need a reason to look in on his most prized acolytes. And this is actually really sweet:

Avery, his eyes misted, put him out at arm’s length. “I knew when first you came to us you would grow to be a fine lad,” he said.

Okay, so I kind of love this. It's quite a clever bit of comic relief. The curse enhances what's already there after all. And clearly that applies to positive as well as negative emotion. That said, there's something rather interesting here:

“We feared you would end up like your father—he was an intelligent one, just like you. But he had no guidance, you see.” Avery’s laughter erupted straight from his belly. “I called him a Gondsman!” the priest roared, slapping Cadderly’s shoulder.

Cadderly failed to see the humor, but he was truly intrigued to hear about his father. That subject had always been avoided at the library, and Cadderly, with no recollections at all before his arrival, had never pressed it seriously.

“And indeed he was,” Avery continued, becoming calm and grim. “Or worse, I fear. He could not remain here, you see. We could not allow him to take our knowledge and put it to destructive practice.”

We'd never really gotten any reference to Cadderly's parents before. He asks Avery where his father went, and Avery doesn't know. They only saw him once more: when he left his son with Dean Thobicus. Avery explains that this is why he's so strict with Cadderly, because he doesn't want Cadderly to go astray like his father did.

I'm not sure if we're supposed to figure this out yet or not. I'm pretty sure I know who Cadderly's father is, because he appeared in one of the Artemis Entreri trilogy books and he had a last name. One we've actually heard before in this book. I'm assuming that we'll get a suitably dramatic reveal eventually.

Anyway, Cadderly would love to learn more while Avery's so talkative, but he's a good kid at heart and doesn't want to take advantage of the fact that Avery's out of sorts. Aw. He decides he wants to check on the dwarves, as well as Rufo - and make sure the latter has no further designs against Danica.

But he also has another notion: to visit the druids. He doesn't think they're the cause of this, but thinks they might have insight.

Not so much.

The room was a mess, the work of an obviously agitated brown bear. The creature squatted on the bed, which had broken under its great weight, and was casually tearing apart a down-filled pillow. Shuffling slowly across the floor in front of it was a huge tortoise.

The bear seemed to pay little attention to him, so Cadderly opened the door a bit wider. Newander sat on the windowsill, staring with despair at the distant mountains, his blond hair hanging limply about his shoulders.

“Arcite and Cleo,” the druid remarked offhandedly. “Arcite is the bear.”

Cadderly's heard of shapechanging before, but it seems clear this is beyond that. Arcite growls when Cadderly tries to approach, and Newander admits that he can't talk to him. He knows it's Arcite because he's seen the bear before. But there's no response.

Cadderly asks why Newander is still human. It's apparently an insensitive question, and Cadderly feels bad for making Newander feel worse. He quickly leaves.

-

We switch to Newander briefly, who realizes something had happened while he was gone. He fears for his comrades and envies them. His own issue is that he's in a place of "tempting civilization" and he's afraid of losing his way without his friends' guidance. Aw.

So back to Cadderly. He's found the dwarves, who are fighting again. He shouts, and the "desperation in his voice" actually calls a halt to the fight. This time, Ivan's mad about Pikul trying to druid up the soup by adding roots and leaves and grass. I'm on Ivan's side here, that sounds disgusting.

Cadderly breaks in by advising that now isn't the time to be druidic, as the druids are out of sorts. He notes that he's never seen them fight before and don't they think this has gotten out of hand. (Indeed, the kitchen is a disaster, we're told. Their spice rack is smashed, spices lost, and their oven, designed by Pikel, is damaged beyond repair. Aw.)

The dwarves cry. Cadderly is bewildered. And horrified when his speculation outloud lead the dwarves to admit to having set up the block for Danica again.

Oh brother.

So yeah.

He knew in his heart what he would find.

Danica lay on her back in the center of the floor, her forehead covered in blood. The stone block was not broken, but her pounding had moved the sawhorses back a few feet. Like Danica, the block was caked in blood in several places, indicating that the monk had slammed it repeatedly, even after splitting open her head.

“Danica,” Cadderly breathed, moving to her. He tilted her head back and stroked her face, still delicate beneath her swollen and battered forehead.

Convenient that she's still pretty even after beating herself into a coma.

Newander chooses this moment to show up. At first he thinks Cadderly hurt her, but both men are reasonable at the moment, so they clear that up. Newander says that he thinks the place is cursed, he'd sensed it on his return.

Unfortunately, Newander's still in his crisis of conscience, so when Cadderly says they have to find out the how and why of the curse, Newander says that he (meaning Newander) is a failure and Cadderly will have to find the answer.

Newander is at least able to help Danica, whose wounds are miraculously not too serious. Brain damage doesn't mean much when you're an idiot, I suppose?

Cadderly notes that despite Newander's self-pity, he's the most rational person at the Library, and trusts Danica to him while he goes to find some answers.

The chapter ends here.