Having a good-aligned great dragon settle in a city was an extraordinary honor and a sign of prestige. It meant the entire Material Plane recognized and took an interest in that city. For example, Lady Amandra Niladru lived in the City of Skilled Hands, while the North's most famous City of Splendor was home to at least three great dragons. Their presence as mighty champions kept the North's prosperous jewel safe from open invasion by evil beings from other planes. Such forces could only work in secret, using schemes to prop up agents and seize power.
Only a handful of powerful figures and a few high-ranking officials in the city-states knew about these unspoken rules. The hostile lords of the Material Plane had to find forces strong enough to match a city's protectors before daring to launch a true war of conquest against one of these famed cities. Lady Sunderland Starglim happened to be one of the few elites in Mirabar who had heard of these rules.
The next day, the Dark Elf Drizzt Do'Urden and the recovered King Bruenor, along with the rest of his group, bade farewell to Mirabar and continued their journey home. Before leaving, Drizzt sought out Chen Jinyang to say goodbye. His courteous manner greatly endeared the Elf to Chen, who promised that if Drizzt ever needed his help, he could come to Mirabar to find him. This time was an exception, of course; Chen still had family to settle.
The thrilling mercenary life and the years spent fleeing for his life in his previous world had left deep marks on Chen Jinyang's soul. After nearly half a year of adapting and recuperating, he had begun to long for the adventurer's life the mercenaries of this world described—especially now that he had a general plan for the two little ones' futures. Chen gazed wistfully at the Companions of the Mithral Hall as they rode off on fast horses. Their mutual trust made him deeply envious. Chen believed in strength, but he wasn't blindly devoted to it; a powerful, well-coordinated team was terrifying.
When he saw the giantess standing silently behind him, Chen couldn't help smiling with delight. At least I have a companion I can trust right now, even if her strength isn't all that impressive yet. After standing in silence for a long while, Chen turned to return to their new home. "Let's go back, Phinia!" At his words, Phinia followed close behind him, her greataxe on her back. That giant woman never went anywhere without her weapon.
The escort job was over for now, and the Companions of the Mithral Hall had left. All Chen had to do was wait for someone from the Habel Family to come and complete the rest of the deal. He had little else to do. Three more listeners had joined the two little ones who were studying Common writing with Lady Sunderland. "Knowledge is power"—a saying from his previous world that had been repeated to death, but was undeniably true. Mishaer was the only one attending lessons willingly. Alos and Phinia had been dragged there by Chen, while the last student was the Moon Elf girl Elf Xingye, who still hadn't given up on the so-called "dragon's hoard." The Elf, whose face had returned to its girlish appearance, had abandoned her former mercenary companions and latched onto Chen, becoming the little girl's "mortal enemy."
Though the languages of Faerun were numerous and ever-changing, its written scripts fell into six categories: Common, Elvish, Dwarvish (Giant), Draconic, Celestial, and Infernal. Take the most widespread one, Common. If its writing were like Chinese characters, then spoken Common would be like Mandarin, while regional languages such as Aglarondan, Eshartian, and Chondathan would be like dialects such as Sichuanese, Minnan, and Northeastern Chinese. As a result, adventurers traveling from place to place often encountered frustrating situations: a farmer in some remote region might understand their Common, while they couldn't make head or tail of the farmer's local language.
Learning this script, which was like a cipher made of letters, was a real headache. Chen and the others were struggling badly. After several days, he couldn't hold back any longer. "Your Excellency, this so-called Common script..."
The female magistrate, who had been frowning as she struggled to teach them, lightly brushed the hair from her forehead, revealing her charming face. She smiled seductively. "Mr. William, you're much too polite! Just call me little Sunderland! Hee-hee—" Chen felt awkward at the magistrate's almost flirtatious behavior. He glanced back at Phinia, who was squirming restlessly as she struggled with her writing lesson, and instinctively breathed a sigh of relief. What an innocent girl.
Chen continued his question distractedly. "Miss Sunderland, this script is so complicated to learn. Is there any special method to speed things up?"
The beautiful "teacher" smiled brightly. "Of course there is! Hehe!"
The few "poor students," Chen among them, were delighted and asked in unison, "What's the trick?" An extremely cocky laugh suddenly came from behind them. They turned to see the Elf girl gloating, and all gave her a dismissive look over their shoulders.
Sunderland chuckled smugly. "The special method is to learn Elvish first!" The laughter behind them grew even more obnoxious. What the hell! No wonder the little Elf was so pleased with herself. But what did learning Common have to do with Elvish?
Fortunately, Sunderland promptly answered their unspoken question. "Common script evolved from Elvish script. The relationship between them is a little like that between simplified and traditional Chinese, though the differences between these two scripts are far more complicated. You need to understand Elvish grammar to read Common properly. Compared with Common script, most people find Elvish script more convenient for keeping records. Only the officials of human nations and cities tend to use Common script, but that doesn't make Elvish script any less convenient. Only specially trained scribes can read and write Common with reasonable accuracy and fluency. There are even mysterious spells such as Comprehend Languages, Scribe, and Tongues that let an illiterate farmer read and write all kinds of advanced texts fluently. You should know more about these magical matters than I do, Mr. William!"
Like hell I do! How would I know anything about this mystical stuff? Chen glared at her and snapped, "If that's what you're saying, then we only need to learn Elvish script! So what have you been teaching us for the past few days? A bunch of nonsense? Are you messing with us?"
The female magistrate, accused and challenged, defended herself in a low voice. "You were the one who asked me to teach you the human language and writing! How is that my fault?" Of course, clever Lady Stagrim admitted to herself that she had also been taking a little revenge for Chen's intimidation when he entered the city. But only a tiny bit, really. (The woman indicated a very narrow gap with her slender fingers.)
"Then from now on, you only need to teach us Elvish script! And if there's anything else I don't know, I hope you'll remind me in time, beautiful Miss Sunderland!" Realizing he lacked common knowledge, Chen felt he might have been too hard on the magistrate and quickly changed to an apologetic expression.
Sunderland feigned nonchalance. "If you want to learn to read and write Elvish, Mr. William, you've come to the wrong person!" The wrong person? Following the magistrate's teasing gaze, they all turned with troubled expressions toward the Elf girl, who was laughing with outrageous smugness. "Wahahaha—!"
At that moment, in some corner of the North, a mysterious conversation was taking place:
"Have you found them?" asked an elegant, deep-voiced woman.
"We have. They had a misunderstanding with our family's grain convoy and were delayed in Mirabar for a few days," replied an elderly man.
"A misunderstanding? Why did they go to Mirabar?" the woman asked worriedly.
"Don't worry! The Glimmerstone Council won't realize they're a threat anytime soon. But this time, the Dwarf King was badly injured by a strange little fellow."
"A strange fellow?" The woman wondered which renowned young champions of the North could defeat the Dwarf King.
"Yeah! He used to be a fool, but suddenly turned into a powerful warrior. He could even kill a Fish-Eating Crocodile and a Hell Hound with his bare hands," the old man boasted carelessly.
"A Hell Hound? You said a Hell Hound?" The woman's voice rose sharply.
"No! Oh, gods above, strike this clever woman down with lightning! I said Troll! Not Hell Hound!" The man hastily tried to deny it.
"You said Hell Hound!"
"I said Troll, not Hell Hound!"
"Fine! Let's stop this pointless argument. How did your contacts go?" The woman dropped the subject and changed the topic.
"I've contacted Nesme and Yartar, but both refused. Waterdeep has also sent someone to talk to them, but I don't expect that to go well either. After all, no one has mentioned Mithral Hall for many years. Very few people even remember it." The old man sounded dejected.
"But this is the only way to break Mirabar's monopoly, and forces from the shadows have already begun infiltrating the North's mining centers. We must accelerate our plans!" the woman said firmly.
"I know, my lady. But Shadower is too powerful for ordinary people. Are you planning to face that Shadow Dragon yourself?"
"No! I can't persuade the others in the alliance to let me leave the city alone. This time, I'm going to seek help from afar. One of my sisters will come as soon as she can!"
"That's wonderful! But will the Dark Elves be able to find their way to Mithral Hall?"
"Don't worry! I've already asked the old dragon living in the Citadel of the Hermit. He agreed to provide directions when the time comes. After all, Old Night isn't fond of that evil neighbor, the Shadow Dragon, either. Oh, right! What did you do with the Hell Hound that strange little fellow killed?" The woman had been explaining, but casually changed the subject.
"We've already dealt with the Hell Hound—Oh, damn it! You tricked me? You sly woman! You shameless liar! There was no Hell Hound! No strange little fellow! Nothing at all! Damn it!" The old man, realizing he'd let something slip again, flew into a rage.
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