Equipment Printing School Mage

The red wizards of Cyrene, the giants of Calimshan, and the drow of the underground world have become so notorious in Faerun that they are almost universally hated in most areas.

However, the Warlock's Tomb is an exception.

It is called a tomb, but in fact it is more like the ruins of a city.

Its foundation is made of countless broken rocks, but these inorganic materials have long been gradually smoothed by time over thousands of years. However, even though even the rocks have succumbed to the wear and tear of time, the inhabitants within them are still alive.

In other words, [immortality].

This is a city of undead creatures - skeletons, zombies, vampires. These creatures, which are very rare in the outside world, are the main residents of the city.

The leaders of these undead creatures are a group of liches.

Indeed, each lich is essentially a great wizard who has twisted his body and soul in exchange for immortality. Thus, even a single lich's devotion is enough to plunge a vast region or even an entire nation into despair. A lich can drag countless lives to their doom should he so desire.

The most despairing thing is that even if you defeat the lich, it will resurrect again in just a few days, making all your previous bloody fights in vain.

You can defeat a lich any number of times, but it only needs to defeat you once.

However, in the Tomb of the Warlock, the quantifier for lich is indeed group.

The middle and lower levels of the city are where low-level undead are housed, while the upper level is composed of countless spires that reach into the sky.

Perhaps hundreds, perhaps tens of thousands. These bizarre buildings were scattered almost without pattern across the city's upper reaches. Their decorative styles varied, as if they had come from different corners of time.

The master of each spire is a powerful lich. Generally speaking, each lich is enough to make ordinary people retreat.

Even the most nosy adventurers would never want to rush into the lich's lair unless they had a strong chance of winning and a compelling reason to fight - not fearing death and committing suicide in vain are two completely different concepts.

And such overlords gathered quietly in a city.

How many liches are there here? Perhaps dozens, perhaps hundreds, perhaps more.

This is a force that is truly powerful enough to shake the continent and mock the bloody battles boasted by the devils and demons as a fight between children.

But such a lich also respectfully - at least on the surface respectfully - obeys the same ruler.

In the largest tower, dozens of liches were gathered there, bowing humbly and reporting the latest detection status to the leader sitting on the throne.

"Sare's chief, Sazastan, is still gathering strength. There's no sign of him leaving Sare. And their enemy, Agrallond, doesn't seem to have any plans to counterattack."

Their master nodded. "A single instance of overreaching ambition can bring such tragic consequences. No matter how fiercely Thael flaunts his power, he cannot defeat Agralond without Himbu—that's all they are. So, any news on Himbu?"

The liches in charge of the nearby observation area exchanged a glance and lowered their heads. "No. We can only infer from Elminster's frequent appearances in that area that she still hasn't recovered."

The Lord sighed. "Mystra's chosen are so adept at hiding. She must not have recovered. With her vengeful temper, if she recovers from the effects of the Arcane Blight, she will surely make it known to the world."

After making some blunt comments about some of the world's most powerful mages, the leader turned to the other side and asked, "Are there any other lookouts that detected Elminster's movements?"

The liches present fell silent and did not respond.

At this moment, the Lord discovered the absence of a lich.

He said, "The Watcher from the Sharptooth Forest has not yet arrived. Have you received any contact from him?"

Absence without reason is a serious sin.

All the liches present shuddered, but no one could give an answer.

At this moment, a lich suddenly broke open the door and rushed over as if fleeing.

His shriveled body exuded a strong smell of preservatives, as if he had just come out of a coffin.

Even so, he fell to the ground in a state of extreme embarrassment beneath the throne of the Lord, while his colleagues silently made way for him.

The intruder shouted hoarsely, "Lord Larok, I'm deeply sorry. The Observer from the Sharptooth Forest is late for some reason."

The lich's leader is named Larloch - his clothing style is extremely rare in today's Faerun and should only appear in some scholars' research books and museums.

These garments were pristine, as if fresh from a tailor's hands, yet their owner had long since decayed, devoid of any flesh or blood. A complete mage's robes floated lightly over the skull. Where his eyes once stood were two blood-red balls of light, and dozens of ioun stones, each colored and inscribed with runes, floated above his skull.

Naturally, the owner of these costumes is also a haggard lich.

Larloch looked at his subordinate who had just barged in, raised his right hand holding the staff, and asked in a cold voice, "Singal, I was just asking why you were late."

"I've been destroyed!" The lich named Singal was almost impatient to give the most perfect excuse, fearing that he would be punished if he delayed even a little. "Elminster passed by my lookout and discovered me!"

As for why they would be destroyed if discovered by Elminster, there is no need to explain it anymore - liches may be extremely powerful wizards, but ordinary liches are far from strong enough to fight against Elminster.

This shocking news instantly shook the entire conference hall.

The Sharptooth Forest, Sinjar's lookout point, is only a few hundred kilometers away from their sorcerer's tomb.

For people of their level, this distance is already very close.

Amidst the discussion, Larroc shook his head: "—Silence."

The council hall fell silent for a moment.

Larloch then asked in a hoarse voice, "How did you meet Elminster? How did you get exposed? What was he doing at the time?"

The lich almost subconsciously wanted to swallow, but unfortunately the relevant organs had almost turned into a mass of stiff flesh and blood.

He replied, "Elminster was casting a spell in the western part of Sharptooth Forest, seemingly targeting a small group. I didn't realize it was Elminster at the time, and wanted to further verify his identity, but unfortunately, he discovered me... and I couldn't leave in time."

There is no need to say more about what happened next.

Larloch frowned. "So, you've been mending your body in your phylactery these days?"

The lich replied, "Indeed. I have no idea what has happened in the Sharptooth Forest in the past few days."

"Never mind. Just a few days." Larloch waved his hand. "Elminster's intense activity has been going on for a long time. Sadly, with the hundredth year approaching, Mystra's return remains a distant prospect. Perhaps he's the only one who thinks he's working to resurrect the goddess."

Even though Elminster was stronger than almost everyone present, it did not affect the sound of the wind in countless empty mouths, like laughter.

At that moment, another lich also hurriedly rushed into the meeting place and prostrated himself before Larloch in an almost identical posture. "Lord Larloch—Apodel Adrian—somehow broke through the natural barrier of my lookout. He has been inactive for almost ten years, so I felt it necessary to return here to report."

A lich chuckled and said, "Obviously, they are afraid of the Son of Bhaal, so they turned around and ran away. They put it so nicely."

This statement was obviously also the view of most liches, and bursts of laughter were heard in the venue.

Larloch didn't stop the taunting this time. Instead, he asked, "As I recall, your lookout is near Baldur's Gate."

"Yes."

Now, the liches couldn't laugh anymore.

The Sharptooth Forest is still several hundred kilometers away from the Warlock's Tomb, and the distance between Baldur's Gate and them is about to be cut in half.

A lich asked, "Lord Larloch, should we prepare for war?"

"...The strongest Chosen, the strongest Mystra paladins. They've all gathered here... Is this a coincidence?"

Larloch thought for a moment and asked his newly arrived subordinate, "What's going on in Baldur's Gate recently?"

***********************

"If I had to use one word to describe Baldur's Gate lately, it would be 'busy'."

Apodel took out the dagger he carried with him and carved on the granite.

It is said that steel is not as hard as granite, but Apodel's dagger is full of strange magical aura, and it is obviously not an ordinary short weapon used for self-defense.

The Son of Bhaal briefly sketched the surrounding terrain and explained, "The greatest threat to Baldur's Gate right now is Elturgard to the east. Like Baldur's Gate, Elturgard was unaffected by the Spellscalding. In recent years, a miracle known as the Companion Sun has occurred in Elturgard's capital for unknown reasons, resulting in the city being illuminated by two suns. This has led to Elturgard's rapid expansion, and the nearest settlements to the east have become part of it, making it unrivaled in its prestige."

"Baldur's Gate has certainly grown rapidly. Over the years, it has struggled to absorb refugees from all directions and embezzled vast amounts of wealth. But the future is worrying—to the north lies the troll-infested no-man's land, to the south lies Candlekeep and Belgost, and further south lies Amn. There's virtually no room for expansion in any direction. In fact, Baldur's Gate's path to development has reached its end."

"So, the friction between Elturgard and Baldur's Gate has long been escalating. In fact, even without the territorial dispute, Elturgard has always looked down on Baldur's Gate, a city known for its filth and corruption. If given an excuse, Elturgard would certainly not mind giving Baldur's Gate a beating."

Apodel pointed in the direction of Rivington, south of Baldur's Gate. "Just at this very moment, when the Elturgard envoys were visiting Baldur's Gate, a group of Hell Knights from Elturgard died near Rivington—the location and timing were both extremely sensitive. If this wasn't an accident, then the mastermind clearly intended to cause war between the two countries. As for the deeper purpose, we still don't know."

"Even more fatally, the Flaming Fist, Baldur's Gate's primary military force, has lost its supreme commander. I don't think this is a coincidence. In fact, the situation during my Baldur's Gate crisis was quite similar."

"However, I still don't see how these things have any direct connection with me. Are they hoping that I will discover this dangerous trend and intervene so that they can use this opportunity to frame me?"

By this time, Emiya and Yin had already returned to their temporary camp. However, Yin, a magic enthusiast, was not interested in analyzing the situation and only began to nod his head as he listened.

Apodel frowned and asked his student, "Mars, have you been active in Eltoril?"

Mars said seriously, "Yes. Honestly, those times were pretty good. However, the bad news is that Eltoril possesses a subtle... willingness to sacrifice his life for justice. If the plotters can fabricate evidence proving that Baldur's Gate is using massacres as a provocation, Elturgard might rise up in arms without hesitation."

Just as Emiya was about to speak, Yin's body leaned to the side and fell into his arms, fast asleep.

He sighed and continued, "We met with the emissary from Elturgard. He doesn't seem like someone who would be easily provoked. Nor does he seem belligerent."

"This is the only good news during this period." Apodel sighed. "She was the one complaining about the dangers lurking in Baldur's Gate, and then I came to Baldur's Gate to help, and now she suddenly stopped contacting me."

Mars suddenly said, "Perhaps because the situation in Baldur's Gate is complicated right now, she would rather you not come here."

"That's not up to her. As long as she doesn't leave, I can't leave either." Apodale clenched his fists. "If the next starting points are these few."

"First, try to contact Imoen. If we can find her again, she will probably not force you and me to leave."

"Second, try to prevent friction between Baldur's Gate and Elturgard. The former leader of the Flaming Fist is most likely not retired, but seriously injured or even dead. The chaos that arises at this time is an ideal opportunity for other forces to fill the power vacuum. I believe this is definitely related to Grand Duke Valakon. There are only three seats on the Council of Four now. The Silver Shield family is a veteran of the Council of Four, presiding over the Church of Gond, and the current patriarch is even a Grand Master of Gond. The remaining two seats are held by Grand Duchess Violet, who owns the Witchcraft Grocery Store, and Grand Duke Valakon, who effectively controls the entire Outer City."

"The Silver Shield family and the Flaming Fist don't actually have a particularly deep connection. The owner of the Witch Grocery Store may be a powerful wizard, but he's a businessman after all. In this situation, the one most likely to step forward is Grand Duke Valakon."

Emiya was silent for a moment, then said, "--Recently, Grand Duke Valakan seems to have hired a Red Moon Group. It's possible that all of its members are werewolves."

"...Then, the Red Moon's mid-level and lower-level combat power is likely even stronger than the Flaming Fist. At least if a civil war breaks out, werewolves who are not afraid of ordinary swords and can spread the disease of lycanthropy could easily turn Baldur's Gate into a sea of ​​blood and corpses."

"Third, if there's a chance, try to find out how the conspirators' plans relate to me. How did they find the identities of the other Baal bloodlines? I'm still clueless about that."

Aimia was silent for a moment, then replied, "I think this commotion might be caused by the same people and the same thing."

Apodale nodded, then shook his head. "--very likely. But as far as I know, no established organization operates in this way. Such organizations often have the shadow of an evil god behind them, and they carry the responsibility of promoting evil when they act. But I still have no idea who is behind this."

At this moment, Apodale suddenly stood up.

They camped below the clouds, from where they could see the entire Baldur's Gate.

On this dim night, the gate of Baldur's Gate, which should have been closed long ago, began to creak.

A light cavalry rushed out of the city gate and headed south along the Bay Avenue.

The Son of Bhaal frowned and pulled a telescope from the bag at his waist.

The rider on the horse was wearing a loose robe.

At this time, the bridges on both sides of Feilong Rock had already been raised, and it was no longer possible to cross Feilong Bridge by land.

At this moment, the rider hummed a few times on the horse, and with the figure of his mount, they appeared at the other end of the bridge.

"...Anywhere Door...?"

By this time, Flame Fist had already discovered this uninvited guest, and the entire Feilong Rock had been mobilized. But even so, it was still too slow to catch up with a well-prepared mage.

Before the Flame Fist began to unleash a rain of steel, the mage had already crossed the bridge of Feilong Rock and entered the other end of the Feilong Bridge.

The Flame Fist's jurisdiction in the outer city area only extended to the area around Feilong Rock. By this time, the mage had already escaped.

And his ultimate goal was actually the Eltoril Emissary Camp south of Baldur's Gate.

Emiya sighed: "Our opponents have already started to take the next step."

If it really just involves delivering a message, a wizard has countless ways to do it.

However, he still chose to force his way through under the eyes of countless people.

If the wizard wasn't a complete idiot, then he was doing it on purpose.

Apodel sighed deeply: "The turmoil in Baldur's Gate has probably just begun."

Outside the Twenty-Two Flying Dragon Rock

First there was a tiny glimmer of fire, and then this small flame quickly multiplied in the Eltoril messenger camp.

The clanging sound of armored steel broke the silent night. The horses that were still resting were woken up, and torches soaked in fuel were lit one by one, pouring light into the darkness.

Eltoril's emissaries lit their torches and began to march into battle.

They only carried the personal belongings they needed for battle, held up torches, mounted their war horses, and rushed towards Feilong Rock.

Seeing the torches forming a red river rushing towards the Dragon Rock, Emilia tentatively sent a message to Lady Adrian again—perhaps she should be called Imoen at this moment.

Eltoril and Baldur's Gate already had a strained relationship, and any further conflict at this point could exacerbate the situation. Regardless, he felt compelled to inform this person, who held close ties to all parties.

However, Imoen was clearly very resolute. Although the short message spell could theoretically reach anyone in the material plane, he encountered a wall when trying to send a message to this fellow Son of Bhaal.

The feedback given by the spell is different if the other party receives it but refuses to respond and if the other party does not exist in the material plane.

If we use the earth as an analogy, the former means that the other party answered the call but did not reply, while the latter simply means that the other party is out of service area.

Emilia sighed and looked behind her, "There's a liar in the outer city... a bard who seems to have a connection with Miss Imoen. It seems that the bard has always been responsible for bringing people to meet Miss Imoen. She is the only clue at the moment."

Mars shrugged. "We don't have a choice."