The blind swordsman stood up from his chair and approached the veranda's edge. As always, he wished to absorb every sensation possible as the day drew to a close. Behind him wafted the sweet aroma of the meal to come, and in front of him the clean scent of the deserted countryside. Behind him was the cacophony of pots and pans as Hotspur, Poins, and Hal prepared the table, and in front of him the gentle sweeping brush of the wind relocating granules of the road outside of his home.

Honor took a step farther out. An unaccustomed observer might have feared that the blind man might fall off the veranda's edge, but those who knew "old blind Honor" would entertain no such worry. Honor had long ago memorized the number of steps between his chair and the edge, and his exacting remaining senses could feel the textural difference that indicated the edge was there. As always, Honor merely wished to feel the breeze that was obscured and deflected by the villa's wall.

He felt the cool caress of the wind on his left cheek, and turned his head to face it.

"A storm's coming," he said out loud to no one in particular. "It will probably reach us by the second course."

An almost nonexistent noise was picked up by his right ear when he turned his head to catch the wind.

"Two horses are approaching," he reported, "both bearing riders. I guess that guests are like the storm. It never rains but often pours."

"Chesslyn, what a wonderful surprise!" Fullstaff hailed from the villa's gate. "And just in time for dinner, too!"

"Of course," Chesslyn replied good-naturedly as her steed approached the blind swordmaster. "Why else do you think I'm stopping by now? Surely it's not to renew acquaintances with an old friend."

"Of course not," Fullstaff replied. "And who's your young friend? By the click of his heels against his stirrups and the unusual flapping of his cape, I would say that he's not from around here."

Volo reined his steed closer to Chesslyn and whispered, "I thought you said he was blind."

Chesslyn went to hush her traveling companion as the blind swordmaster boomed, "Blind I am, though not deaf!"

Volo immediately went on the defensive and tried to apologize for his thoughtlessness.

"I'm sorry sir, I-"

"Didn't realize that a living legend such as yourself would have such acute senses to compensate for your blindness, nor that you would look so young and virile. That's what you were going to say, right?" Fullstaff said, finishing the gazetteer's sentence with words of his own choosing.

"Of course, sir," Volo said with a smile, now set at ease in the presence of the blind swordmaster.

"Thought so," Fullstaff replied, "and it's not 'sir', it's Honor. Now, Chesslyn, come and give a dirty old man a hug."

The Harper agent quickly dismounted with a facility that belied the fatigues of a long day in the saddle, and ran up to the broad old swordmaster, giving him a kiss full upon the lips, which he returned with great zeal and an accompanying bear hug. Their lips unlocked, she slid against him and turning around so that she comfortably rested her back against his chest, the hilt of her long sword barely missing the chin of her former teacher.

"Is that a long sword," Fullstaff asked, "or are you just happy to see me?"

"Both," Chesslyn purred.

How original, Volo thought to himself sarcastically as he dismounted, then strode over to the embracing couple.

Chesslyn disentangled herself from the arms of her former teacher.

"Honor," she said, "I'd like you to meet a new acquaintance of mine, Volothamp Geddarm."

"I knew you weren't from around here," Fullstaff asserted, vigorously clasping the master gazetteer's hand in his muscular paw and pumping it vigorously. "It's not often that we host a famous author in these parts."

"Oh, you've heard of me," Volo said in mock modesty.

"Who hasn't heard of the master traveler of all Toril, and author of Faerun's best selling travel guide series," said the master swordsman releasing the author's hand before his writer's arm had been overtaxed too much.

"Have you read…" Volo started to ask, then thought better of it given the blindness of his host, and tried to change the subject, "… I mean…"

"Read any of your books?" Fullstaff jumped right in. "Afraid not. I prefer potboilers and cookbooks."

"Oh," the master traveler answered, not quite sure as to whether to take the bear that walked like a man seriously.

"You don't do yourself justice, Honor," Chesslyn corrected, then turned to Volo and explained. "Honor has one of his aides read to him every night. He's read all of the major authors of the Realms."

Except me, Volo thought to himself.

"Well, time's a'wastin', and dinner should be on the table right about now. Hotspur has prepared something from this new Underdark cookbook that everyone is talking about," Fullstaff announced. His arm once again around the lovely Harper agent, they headed off toward the villa's entrance.

The blind swordmaster stopped for a moment, then turned back to face the quite confused master traveler.

"You're more than welcome to join us," Fullstaff offered. "And to answer the pertinent questions that are on your mind, so as not to delay dinner any longer: I recognized the gait of Chesslyn's mount and the scent of the soap that she uses on her saddle. As to knowing that you were not from these parts, I failed to recognize your cologne, and I am fairly familiar with the likes of such things that are available in these parts. Finally, no you don't have to worry about me. Chesslyn is one of my favorite former students, and she is like a daughter to me, and I am more than aware of her discreet assignations. The fact that this is an unplanned visit leads me to believe that she was purposely taking the back roads back to Mulmaster so as not to run into anyone. Ergo, discretion is required, so discretion will be maintained. So without further ado, let's eat."

With that, the master swordsman resumed his beeline to the dining room, Chesslyn still on his arm, and the master traveler following close behind.

The table was set for a feast, which had he not known better, Volo would have taken for a banquet party for ten.

Fullstaff took his place at the head of the table, with Chesslyn at his right hand. The master of the villa motioned that Volo should take the seat on his left. They had no sooner sat down than places were set for them by the omnipresent Poins and Hal, who were well accustomed to accommodating new arrivals at their master's table with little or no notice.

"Poins and Hal will prepare rooms for you after we dine," Fullstaff explained. "Make any wishes known to then and they will do their best to accommodate you."

The master swordsman was about to say something else when he cocked his head to the side as if listening for something. This was followed by the now audible sound of footsteps entering the room.

"How rude of me!" the gregarious host said in a self-deprecating tone. "In my enthusiasm for Chesslyn's unexpected visit, I have neglected my other guest for the evening. What a terrible host I am! Please forgive me."

Fullstaff stood up, and gestured to the other end of the table where a new visitor was approaching the table.

"Chesslyn, Volo, I'd like you to meet an old friend of mine, Mason McKern of Mulmaster," the gracious host boomed.

Volo and Chesslyn turned in the direction their host indicated. Both of the discreet travelers held their breath in sudden shock and surprise as the illumination from the table's candelabra revealed the face of their fellow guest at their host's evening meal.

Volo recognized him as the sour old geezer whose appointment he had usurped on his way to checking in with Thurndan Tallwand.