"Faen?" Naoni gasped. "Are you-?"

Her words were lost in the sudden roaring charge of a man who came out of the darkness behind her, slashing at her with one long, furry arm that had the claws of a great bear.

Naoni and Faendra screamed as Korvaun slashed furiously from his knees, forcing the bear-man into a twisting sideways hop just as Lark sprang past, dagger flashing.

Throat laid open, the bear-man gurgled, staggered, raked the wall vainly with his claws… and died.

Fresh screams erupted down the tunnel, and someone far off shouted the name of a noble house like a battle-cry.

Then Korvaun roared in pain, steel clanged on steel very close by, and Naoni flung herself away and rolled in blood and apples, to come up facing Roldo Thongolir and Lark, furiously stabbing a man who looked like any back alley sneak-thief-except that rows of fanged mouths adorned both his bared forearms.

"All right back there?" Taeros called.

Lark turned with thief-blood all over her face, stepping back to let the dying man fall, and panted, "We'll live, Lord Hawkwinter. How fare you?"

"We've got Baraezym, but he's hurt. Starragar saw Karrak Lhamphur, alone and running that way."

"That" way was unknowable in the ill-lit gloom, of course, and Naoni found Faendra and clung to her as Korvaun and Taeros met and clasped hands, both breathing hard.

"All well?" Starragar inquired, half-carrying a stumbling Baraezym.

"Fighting is brisk," Phandelopae Melshimber replied almost proudly. "Any sign of Master Dyre? Or of any end to this foolishness?"

Her only answer was the approaching wail of a red-faced, portly noble, running for all he was worth. Four men in the dark breeches and jackcoats of Purple Silks servants were chasing him, long knives in their hands.

Another noble stumbled out of a side-passage with his own dark-coated pursuers close behind. The first lord burst right through the Gemcloaks, sobbing in despair-and Korvaun and Taeros closed together in his wake to meet the darkcoats with ready swords.

The next few breaths were frantic and bloody, with Taeros shouting in pain from sliced knuckles, a jackcoat sobbing as Korvaun ran him through, and steel striking against steel savagely enough to send sparks flying.

A jackcoat fell and rolled in under Taeros, seeking to topple him for easy stabbing. The Hawkwinter came down hard, but Lark jumped onto the thief's knife-wrist, and it was Taeros who struck first.

The man convulsed and sagged, dead or dying, and Roldo Thongolir bounded over him at the next jackcoat, whose blade was reaching for Taeros. The man struck aside Roldo's arm and blade with one hand and stabbed at Roldo's face with the other, slashing mainly hair and scalp as Roldo twisted desperately, knowing he was doomed to take the backslash.

Lark hurled herself feet-first into the jackcoat's chest, spinning him away. As she fell on Roldo, Taeros surged up to stand over them and drive back the next jackcoat.

Just behind them, Naoni screamed as a dagger slashed viciously through her sleeve. Her attacker had slipped around the fray, and was now stumbling helplessly forward as Faendra rolled hard into his shins. He grabbed Naoni's shoulder and dragged her down with him, hard, and then stabbed Nothing, as Delopae's knife caught his and held it, quavering, for just long enough as the noblewoman landed on him, for Lark to come scrambling over apples back to the man and sink her knife into his left eye.

Quite suddenly, jackcoats were fleeing into the gloom and there was no one left to fight. The Gemcloaks and their four revel-dates gasped and panted in the gloom, staring at each other.

"Well," Korvaun gasped, finding breath, "that was… impressive. Lark, remind me never to stand against you in battle."

"Aye," Starragar agreed, "Well done, Lark and all of you. Quite the warriors… we all are, coming to that. How many-"

"We can count the dead later," Faendra told him fiercely. "I want to find my father and get him safely out of all this. Is anyone hurt?"

"If someone'll bind my ready-cloth around my fingers," Taeros panted, "I'm good to go on."

Baraezym screamed suddenly. Roldo and Starragar cursed and flung themselves toward him-in time for Varandros Dyre's last apprentice to bounce limply at their feet and his slayers stalk forward over his body, advancing to attack.

There were two of them, misshapen nightmares of horns, jaws and great bone-hook talons, far more monsters than men. Roldo's sword broke in his first angry slash, and a talon tore open his tunic and sent him reeling. Both beasts reached for Starragar, and Taeros and Korvaun sprang hastily forward, swords flashing, only to fall in unison as a snakelike tail lashed across their ankles.

One beast sprang over them, pouncing on the lantern Naoni was trying to re-light, and as she screamed and talons lashed at her face, Lark Evenmoon leaped in to hack them aside.

The creature squalled in rage and pain, stabbing down with its great bone-hook at Lark's unprotected side.

A tall, dark-gowned figure flung herself out of the gloom to shield Lark, taking that fearsome thrust through her own flank with a groan.

Writhing in agony, Phandelopae Melshimber struck at her slayer with her dagger-wild slashes that sliced only air.

Two swords, thrust with all the snarling strength Korvaun and Taeros could put behind them, burst through the monster's shaggy breast and struck sparks when they clashed together. Lantern-oil that had spilled on Baraezym's body flared into dancing life and Roldo and Starragar could see to hack the other beast down.

Starragar let out a scream of his own as he saw the bloody bone-hook drawn out of Delopae and flung down his blade in wild and clawing haste to get to her. "I-are-"

Phandelopae Melshimber struggled to speak, her eyes fierce, but all that came out of her lips was blood. She lifted a hand, trying to clasp Starragar as he cradled her and sobbed, "I should never have asked you here this night! Delopae! I should never…"

Quite suddenly, the light in her eyes went out and her wavering hand fell back.

Starragar Jardeth burst into tears-and horrified glances were exchanged above him as their black-clad friend sobbed over a corpse-by the light of another one, now burning in earnest.

Beldar Roaringhorn was tired of hearing death-screams and heartily sick of fighting down the urge that raged in him, telling him to run, to save himself for greater things.

He strode through the gloom, heading back up to the winecellars. Bodies were everywhere, fallen torches flickering among sprawled, silent men.

He had to end this. He had to stop the insane Golskyn and his beastmen, yet he dared not use his beholder eye-its whispering hold over him was growing stronger. Eyepatch firmly in place, he stalked on, his sword sharp, ready, and in his hand.

The world seemed to shift, just a little, and the voice he'd been struggling to ignore rose in strength. This way. Just a few paces more. THIS way.

Overhead, with thunderous tread, the Walking Statues of Waterdeep took a few more steps, rearranging themselves just so, at the bidding of… of Golskyn, presumably, speaking through him!

"A man I really must find and slay," Beldar Roaringhorn whispered grimly, as he came up through puddles of wine and shattered glass into ever-brighter light.

Someone had been at work conjuring light in the shattered Purple Silks and banishing the dust, revealing a great webwork of cracks running from the huge hole in the ceiling to great gaps in the walls. Most of the tapestries had fallen, and the leaded panes of the windows behind them, too. As Beldar trudged across rubble to join the silently staring people in the feasting hall, he could see what they were staring at through those gaps.