Forgotten Realms Fiction
Lord of the Darkways
By Ed Greenwood
A tall, slender, darkly handsome man sat alone at the head of a long, polished table, his fingers clasped together under his chin. He was thinking, behind the faint half smile on his face that betrayed nothing.
In order to truly rule Zhentil Keep—not just lord it over the council—it would be necessary to break the power of the richest and most inf luential city merchants. Not to mention the hired wizards working for them.
The nobles he had already conquered, or could destroy at will. He just needed them to refrain from mustering arms against him and banding together while he dealt with the merchants.
The waylords. The sixteen men who could sway or cow all the other merchants and shopkeepers of the keep. Sixteen citizens who could quietly bring armies into the city without having to fight past the city walls or disembark at the docks. They threatened the rule of anyone who sat on a throne in Zhentil Keep by their very existence. So they must die, and soon.
Talk about this Dragon
Fiction from the Forgotten Realms