In The Cards

Wizard of Coin - This card represents magic, often of a mercenary nature, coupled with powerful ambition. It may also represent ambition itself, the urge to excel no matter what the cost, to self or others. Interestingly enough, under certain rare circumstances it may also mean unwavering loyalty, a reminder to the interpreter to be careful in his or her foretelling.

The Rogue - Apart from its natural function of representing thieves, murderers and scoundrels of all kinds, this card also means darkness, cunning, subtlety, schemes and secrets. Usually a solitary card, when coupled with another the connection will be extremely strong.

Excerpt from The Chaltar Deck of Cards - An Introduction

To the north, in the woods near the monastery of Candlekeep where scholar monks peacefully went about their business collecting rare books, a half-elven girl was crying silently. In her mind's eye she saw her foster father cut down before her eyes again and again by an armored figure that seemed inhuman in its determination. This was going to be one of the longest nights of her life.

Further to the south, in the border town of Nashkel across the Amnian border, the innkeeper Turl Odipas was having a very long night of his own. It had started earlier that evening, with the arrival of the first two strangers. The elegant dark-skinned woman in her rich purple robes and with the quietly commanding voice had seemed the ideal customer at first. Quiet, orderly, probably wealthy. Her companion, a huge man with a hideous purple tattoo across his face was another matter. Obviously a powerful warrior, Turl had thought. Possibly a trouble maker. He had made sure to provide the pair with his best room lest the giant find reason to forcibly complain. What he hadn't been prepared for was the warrior walking up to him, less than two hours later, shoving a small furry hamster into his face and then demanding a different room because 'Boo thinks this one is too dark and gloomy, and pretty Dynaheir agrees.' Turl didn't know whether 'pretty Dynaheir' was a reference to the woman or the hamster that glared so ferociously at him, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

So he had gone to see the lady and been shocked to find her calmly reading a spellbook by a floating globe of magic light. A mage! The innkeeper shuddered at the thought. He should have stayed in Athkatla. The Cowled Wizards there made sure no decent man needed harbor…that kind of people beneath his roof very often. But here, so near the northern border… There were plenty of strange folk coming through these days. Had he dared to he would have asked the woman to leave, but the warrior's bulging muscles and large sword made him decide against that. He had simply offered her a different room. She had declined politely, saying that she had decided that she and her companion would go and stay with somebody else instead.

When he pointed out that his was the only inn in Nashkel the woman just smiled. After the strange pair left, little Karul, the errand boy, had reported seeing them admitted inside the Mayor's Manor House. Not just a mage then, but one with connections. He had thought himself lucky to be rid of her, unaware that his troubles were just about to start.

By now the dark blue-black clouds that had been gathering all evening had drawn together into a formidable thunder storm. Jagged lightning flashed across the sky, followed by near deafening rolls of thunder, and the wind was howling like a pack of rabid Dire Wolves. Most of the Inn's guests had retired to their rooms, but some remained in the Common Room, drinking. There was a certain lack of rowdiness though, probably because of the weather. When the door crashed open with a loud bang Turl was startled out of his reverie. Thinking that the door had been blown open by the wind he moved to close it, then froze in mid motion at the sight of the two new arrivals.

Not another bloody wizard! What did I do to deserve this? The innkeeper felt something akin to despair. That one of the two new strangers was a wizard was obvious, even to a man with as little acquaintance with magic as Turl Odipas. This fellow didn't even have the common decency to try to keep his…condition…secret. Dressed in mage robes the color of fresh blood, with bags of spell components hanging from his belt, he rather seemed to want to advertise the fact. He pulled the cowl of his robe back and walked up to the counter where the innkeeper was standing. Turl was surprised to see that the man was rather younger than one would have guessed from the arrogant way he carried himself. He couldn't be older than in his mid-to-late-twenties, but he gave the inn and the other guests a cold sneer as haughty as any belonging on the face on an ancient Archmage. Dark eyes bored into Turl and the sneer increased a little as if the wizard wasn't particularly impressed with what he saw.

"You! Innkeeper!" the mage said. "My companion and I will rent your best room over an extended period of time. (And in this filthy hovel that probably means the room with less than three different species of bugs, but I suppose we have no alternative)" His voice was accented, and Turl couldn't place it. A traveler from far away, it seemed. The innkeeper wiped his face with his handkerchief. Nervous he might be, but would try his best to avoid having another wizard under his room. And he had a good excuse too.

"I…I am sorry, good sir", he said. "But all the rooms are already taken. I cannot help you." Then he cringed as the wizard took a step closer.

"You dare contradict me?" the mage spat, hands drifting closer to his spell components. "We have come a long way tonight, we need our rest and we will have it. Comply, or I'll see you sizzle like bacon over an open fire!" Another crash of thunder accompanied these words, and Turl closed his eyes, fully expecting to die.

"Now, now", another voice said. This one was smooth and very calm, and with no trace of accent at all. It was almost as if the speaker had deliberately obliterated all such hints of his origin. "I am sure there will be no need for violence. We are all reasonable men, after all."

Turl dared open his eyes at that and then immediately wished that he hadn't. So transfixed had he been by the sight of the mage that he had hardly paid any attention at all to his companion. This second man was older than the wizard, probably in his late forties or early fifties, though the lupine grace with which he moved made it difficult to determine. Dressed all in black as he was he made Turl think uncomfortable thoughts about wraiths and specters, particularly since he realized that he hadn't heard the sound of footsteps as the man approached. Beneath the black hood Terl couldn't see more than faint glimpses of a sharp-featured face with a long nose, mostly hidden by shadows. The fact that there were no obvious weapons to be seen did nothing to reassure the innkeeper. The travelers who felt no need to show their weapons were the ones you really had to worry about.

"As my young friend said, we will require your best room", the man said, as if patiently explaining something to a very young and very dull-witted child. "You will make certain that this is arranged."

"But…"

"Because if you don't, then I suppose I shall have to help you in creating a vacancy. Surely it would be better if you handled such matters yourself?" There was the faintest hint of a smile. "I wouldn't want to intrude on another man's turf, after all."

Turl felt the sweat trickling down his back. There had been no obvious threat, and still there was no weapon in sight. And yet he had the feeling that he was a heartbeat away from death. "I…," he began. "I…"

"Yes?" Nothing but polite inquisitiveness in that voice, and yet Turl was reminded of the door of a tomb slamming shut.

"I…I suddenly remembered that the room in question has recently been vacated," Turl said. "T-two guests who were in a hurry. Of course you shall have it."

"Excellent. See what a pleasant place the world can be when we all try to help each other?"

As the two strangers followed Turl to the room the wizard spoke up again. "If you gossip about our presence here you will not live long enough to regret it"; he said. "Now bring us some dinner, and not the slop you serve your regular customers either. We prefer food that actually tastes of something, and by 'something' I don't mean lard. And don't make the mistake of confusing salt with spices. Salt should be used in moderation. Spices should not be neglected, unlike what you barbarians seem to think."

The black-cloaked man nodded approvingly. "Just so," he said. "And tomorrow we will require your presence. We are in need of information, and as you are an innkeeper I am certain there are all sorts of interesting things you will be able to share with us. I hope you like to share."

Turl shuddered. There was no way anybody could be having a worse night than he was. Hoping to change the topic of the conversation he pulled the door of his best room open with a flourish. "H-here we are," he said. "I hope it will be satisfactory. I dare say it is a little dark and gloomy." His hopes of making these guests as dissatisfied as the previous ones were cruelly dashed.

"It will do," the wizard curtly said. "As long as the maid keeps her nose out of it unless specifically invited. We do not want to be disturbed."

"Dark and gloomy will be just fine," the other man agreed. "And you had better warn the maid. My young friend is fond of…research. A disturbance could have unfortunate consequences. For all involved. As for me, I am a light sleeper, and likely to be very disagreeable if disturbed. We don't want any accidents, do we?"

"Oh dear," Turl said, feeling his legs tremble violently. "The…the maid. She hasn't cleaned this room yet. Those two others, the foreign lady wizard and her large bodyguard with the tattoo, they left so hurriedly…" He caught himself just in time to see the long look that passed between his two new guests. Outside the rain was beginning to fall, violently hammering against the roof.

"Other two?" the wizard asked, stroking his short beard. "Lady wizard? Now isn't that interesting? Sounds strangely familiar too."

"Yes," the tall man in black agreed, his voice suddenly very cold. "Extremely familiar." Turl felt a strong grip on his collar as he was forcibly dragged inside the darkness of the Nashkel Inn's best room. "I do believe," the black-cloaked man said, "that we will have that little conversation right now. Take your time in answering our questions. We have all night."