Solam was trouble personified.
This was not slander from others, but a fact. This guy was a walking disaster—wherever he went, something was bound to happen. Even Solam himself could not deny it. Sometimes, he even mocked himself, wondering if he had been cursed somehow.
After thinking it over, Solam decided to pin the blame on Beshaba. In his view, ever since he had gotten intimate with Beshaba, he had been afflicted with this troublesome curse. He completely ignored the fact that he had been a magnet for trouble long before he ever met Beshaba.
But this time, Solam had truly not caused any trouble. He had kept such a low profile that he could not possibly have been any more discreet. As far as Solam was concerned, he was merely out traveling, with no purpose whatsoever, and he would not even be staying in Candlekeep for long. So he had no idea why the knowledge monks had come looking for him.
Before long, the monk stood before Solam and the others.
"May I ask if you are Lord Solam?"
He was very polite and humble. Though he was not particularly handsome—his hairline had practically receded to the back of his head—he possessed a natural friendliness that made people feel comfortable just looking at him. His smile, in particular, always gave people the impression that he was a genuinely kind old fellow.
"If there isn't another person named Solam, then I'm the one you're looking for. Honored Proclaimer, what can I do for you?"
The monks of the Monastery of Knowledge generally called themselves Proclaimers. Beyond studying and safeguarding knowledge, their greatest duty was to spread it. Most monks of the Monastery of Knowledge came from among Oghma's followers, and Oghma's greatest wish—or at least his greatest wish at present—was