Lord of Spells from Faerûn

Dark, damp.

This is the only feeling at midnight.

Midnight was tied up and gagged to prevent her from casting spells. She hadn't showered in days, causing her body to smell sour, and there was the sound of squeaking rats crawling in the corners.

Midnight felt a sense of fear and despair in her heart. She didn't know why she had fallen into this situation.

A few days ago, when the storm brought the villagers from the valley to the temple, what they saw were the ruins that had long been engulfed in the blue-white flame storm, and Midnight lying alone at the door of the temple.

Storm firmly believed that Midnight murdered Elminster, even though he repeatedly claimed that it was Bane who pushed the sage into the unknowable rift.

Midnight was imprisoned, and the disappeared Imrik became the wanted object in Shadow Valley. Storm, whose mind had been blinded by grief and hatred, could only vent his anger on Midnight. At the angry request of the townspeople, a murderous investigation was launched to investigate the murder of Imric. The trial for the Erminster charges is about to begin.

Suddenly, she heard a noise at the door, the click of a keychain, and then the heavy door opened, and the strong light of the torch forced Midnight to close her eyes.

"Bring her out," said a deep, sonorous voice, with a hint of melancholy, "and be careful."

Two hands were placed on Midnight's body, and she was forced to open her eyes. The guards grabbed her from both sides. A tall man stood at the door, holding a torch in one hand and a cane decorated with silver dragon bones in the other.

They led Midnight to the door, her legs dragging on the ground, and the old and mottled face of the soldier in front of the door gradually came into view. She didn't recognize the old man, but she immediately noticed his sharp blue eyes, which frowned slightly as the midnight passed.

She was taken into a room.

"Take the thing out of her mouth," the old man said, helping the guard to place Midnight on the chair.

"But she is a powerful mage! You know, she killed Elminster single-handedly!" A short blond guard stood in front of Midnight, and the other guards reached for their weapons.

The old man's face darkened, and his blue eyes were full of anger. "Has she eaten? Did she drink water?"

"No," the blond guard whispered, "that's dangerous."

"I'll take the risk," growled the old man, stepping out from behind his chair and looking into the brunette's eyes. "She knew I was helping her."

The guards exchanged suspicious glances.

"Go now!" the old man shouted, and the sudden increase in volume made him cough uncontrollably, and he could only hold on to the back of the chair tightly. Despite his strong physique, the old man had apparently just recovered from a serious illness.

The guard took out the strip of cloth from Midnight's mouth. She opened her mouth wide and breathed in air desperately. "Water...please give me water." Her voice was hoarse and she could only force out the sound from her dry throat. The old man nodded, and the guard fetched her a ladle of cold water.

"I am Sebal, the guard captain of Shadow Valley." The old man said.

"Listen carefully to every word I say. In less than an hour these men will lead you through the Craggy Tower to Lord Morglin's audience chamber. You will be imprisoned for killing Elminster. Accept the trial. You must tell me as much as possible about what happened, and I must know everything before I can defend you."

Sebal clutched the keel of his staff as he spoke of Elminster, as if enduring grief.

"Why do you want to help us?" Midnight asked doubtfully.

"I was injured during the mission at Zhentil Keep, and I have been lying on the hospital bed during your visit to the valley. Because of this, Moglin believes that I can handle this matter fairly and equitably."

Sebal said with a trace of sadness in his eyes. When he was tortured by Manson when he was discovered to be a spy, it was Elminster who cast a powerful spell to forcibly rescue him, but he was not satisfied with the death of his benefactor. Nothing can be done.

"But Elminster is your friend," Midnight said.

"Elminster is not only a friend to me," Thrabal replied, "he is a friend to all the people of the Vale and all those who believe in knowledge and freedom in Faerûn. Anyone who knows him will be willing to vouch for him. It’s very bad for you. Time is short and you must tell me what happened as soon as possible.”

Over the next hour, Midnight gave a full account of what had happened.

"Very good." Sebal stood up from the table and nodded to the guard behind the caster. Before Midnight could protest, the gag was back in her mouth.

"I'm sorry," Sebal said, "but I have my responsibilities. The townspeople fear your spells, and Lord Morglin will prevent the possibility of your spells causing chaos in the courtroom."

At midnight, she was led up the stairs of the rugged tower. She passed through the arch and waited in the corridor in the center of the tower with sore legs, waiting for Sebal who went to negotiate with the guards. The corridor is very spacious, accounting for two-thirds of the tower, and is large enough for five people to walk side by side.

The door to Morglin's audience room suddenly opened, and angry protests and shouts erupted inside.

The prisoners were pushed through the auditorium, their rough treatment met with cheers from the audience in the makeshift courtroom. The stone walls of the building are extremely thick, but the voices of the villagers outside the tower can still be heard, catalyzing the chaos in the room, and the order on the scene is almost on the verge of collapse.

There was a high platform at one end of the room, and Morglin stood in the middle. In front of him was a lectern, and the nobles of the valley sat around behind him.

Storm Silverhand walked out of the crowd and came to Moglin's right side. The dim light from the window and the few torches around the room reflected on her long silver hair, and her blue-grey eyes flashed with hatred.

Midnight was forced to kneel in front of Moglin, and the audience began to clamor again. Nearly all the surviving residents of Shadowdale came to hear the trial, and the audience hall and Craggy Tower were filled with angry people who cursed loudly into the middle of the night, and it became increasingly difficult for the guards to maintain the situation.

Kelemvor stood among the spectators in the front row, watching his crush kneel helplessly before Morgryn. The lord's expression was cold and serious, and Kelanvor understood now why his request for a private conversation the night before had been denied. Moglin is visibly angry at the loss of his friend, but he is trying to put aside any personal feelings and handle the case fairly.

Moglin raised his hand and the room fell silent. "You have gathered here today for a solemn mission. Do not bark like hungry wild dogs at night. Let us proceed with due etiquette. Elminster requires no more of us."

There were a few murmurs in the audience, then died down, leaving only a low laugh that continued.

Kelemvor elbowed Cyric hard on the left. "Shut up, you idiot!" the warrior whispered.

Cyric looked at the warrior with a sneer and shook his head: "Wait until the trial is over, Kai. Then we will see what you think of the justice of the people in the valley."

The thin thief looked at the kneeling man, with a hint of worry and determination hidden under his cynical expression.

"At midnight in the Deep Valley, you are accused of murdering the sage Elminster," said Morglin.

"Today we will get justice," Moglin said, "I swear!"

Cheers broke out, and Morglin waited until they were quiet again before continuing to speak. "This is a court-martial," he declared, "so there will be no jury. As Lord of Shadowdale, I will render the final verdict."

"Due to the instability of magic, we will not explore the defendant's thoughts. Only evidence can influence this trial." The lord waved to the silver-haired lady aside, "Please tell the plaintiff the facts of the case."

Storm Silverhand took a step forward, "There are two undeniable pieces of evidence. First, we found a corpse in the Temple of Lathander. It is true that the corpse was beyond recognition. But the place where it was found was in Elminster. Beside the fragments of robes and books," the bard turned to face the crowd, "there was no sign of our sage, who had evidently been murdered."

She then turned around and pointed at midnight, "Secondly, witnesses pointed out that the suspect and the missing wanted object - Imric escaped from the temple seconds before it was razed to the ground by magic, but he escaped unscathed. Hurt." The crowd screamed and threatened.

Unlike Morglin, the storm did not wait for them to become quiet again. "Obviously, it was these two people who killed our old friends!" Her voice rang out over the noise of the audience. Midnight, who was gagged, tried to protest, but to no avail.

"Quiet!" Sebal scolded. He knocked on his cane and then turned to look at Moglin. "We must not convict them like this. We are here to determine the truth of the matter, not to lynch them! "

The interrogation continued, but the balance of death was gradually approaching midnight. The storm summoned a large number of witnesses, and each of them was conclusive about the possibility of killing Elminster at midnight. They had no doubts about the man who had saved the Valley of Shadows. The savior was now filled with unexplainable hatred.

Cyric, who was sitting on the bench, smoothed his brown hair. We risked our lives for this, the thief thought, we saved these fools so that they could judge us here.

"I've seen what it takes to get a conviction," Moglin stepped out from behind the podium to address the court.

"I decree that at dawn tomorrow, in the courtyard of the Craggy Tower, at midnight in the Deep Valley, people will be executed for killing the sage Elminster, and Imrik of Waterdeep will also be wanted as the most important criminal. I Envoys will be sent to speak to the Blackstaff and ask him to hand over the criminals. Guards, take the prisoners down." Morglin stood up and the guards took control of Midnight, and the crowd burst into cheers.

Sebal rushed forward and grabbed Moglin and shouted loudly: "Are you crazy? We can't be sure whether Midnight is the murderer at all, let alone you want a legendary mage! Don't you know that the other party is in this war? How much credit have you done? Can’t you see that earth-shattering explosion?!”

Storm came over, coldly knocked Sebal's hand off, looked into his eyes and said: "Sebal, aren't you heartbroken that your friend died? Midnight and Imrik are the murderers, we must Revenge, as for Imrik’s contribution, I do not deny it, but he must pay the price for the crimes he committed.”

Cyric, who was overwhelmed by the crowd, hid behind them. When he heard what Storm said, he couldn't help but feel ridiculous. If the other party was not the chosen one of the goddess of magic, did he really doubt that someone had controlled their minds?

Cyric pushed his way past the remaining guards, the words of the ruler of Shadowdale echoing in his mind. As he drew closer to the lord, Cyric wondered how quickly he could draw the knife and slit Morglin's throat.

Moglin Ankatri felt a breeze behind him. He turned around to see what was going on, but only saw the thin back of a brown-haired man disappearing into the crowd.

Cyric was once again lost in the excitement of the crowd. He thought about why he changed his mind at the last moment and spared the life of the guy who sentenced Midnight to death; maybe there was a better way to repay his debt to Midnight and make those despicable bastards pay. And the crowd would tear him to pieces, and he wasn't ready to die.

On the contrary, the thief thought that he had a better way to save Midnight and kill those who slandered her.