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es if not hundreds of them packed into the space； and the mingled stink of their unwashed bodies； each race malodorous in its own particular fashion； was sickening。 The loud gabbling in their various harsh and guttural languages was nearly as unnotpleasant。 It all but drowned out the rhythmic thuds that filtered through the ceiling； but of course the shaggy gnoll drummer on the roof wasn't playing for the folk already inside but to guide others still in transit。
To Ryld's surprise； a fair number of the creatures assembling there hailed from outside the Braeryn。 He observed plain but relatively clean and intact garments suggestive of Eastmyr； and even liveries； steel collars； shackles； whip marks； and brands…the stigmata of thralls who'd sneaked away from their mistresses' affluent households。 Obviously； those who'd e from beyond the district couldn't have heard the drum through the magical buffers。 Some runner must have carried word to them。
Still magically disguised as ores； though not the same ones who'd tricked the two bugbears； the masters of Tier Breche had squeezed into a corner to watch whatever would transpire。
Certain no one would hear him over the ambient din； Ryld leaned his head close to Pharaun's and said； 〃I think it's just a party。〃
〃Do you see them celebrating？〃 Pharaun replied。 His new porcine face had a broken nose and tusk。 〃No； not as such。 They'd be considerably more boisterous。 They're waiting for something； and eagerly； too。 Observe those female goblins chattering and passing their bottle back and forth。〃 Pharaun nodded toward a trio of filthy； bandy…legged creatures with flat faces and sloping brows。 〃They're aquiver with anticipation。 If they're still as giddy after the gathering breaks up； we may want to seek solace for our frustrations in their hairy； misshapen arms。〃
Certain his friend was joking； Ryld snorted 。 。 。 then realized he wasn't quite sure after all。
〃You'd have relations with a goblin！〃
〃A true scholar always seeks new experiences。 Besides； what's the point of being a dark elf； a lord of the Underdark； if you don't exploit the slave races to the utmost？〃
〃Hmm。 I admit they might be no worse than one of those priestesses who demand you grovel and do exactly as you're…〃
〃Hush！〃
The drum had stopped。
〃Something's happening；〃 Pharaun added。
Ryld saw that his friend was correct。 A stir ran through the crowd and they started to shout； 〃Prophet！ Prophet！ Prophet！〃
The master of Melee…Magthere didn't know what he expected to see next； but it certainly wasn't the figure in the nondescript cloak and hood whose upper body appeared above the heads of the crowd。 Perhaps he'd climbed up on a bench or table； or maybe he'd simply levitated； for this 〃Prophet；〃 plainly beloved of the lower orders； appeared to be a handsome drow male。
The Prophet let his followers chant and shout for a minute or so； then he raised his slender hands and gradually they subsided。 Pharaun leaned close to Ryld again。
〃It's possible the fellow's not really one of us；〃 the wizard said。 〃He's wrapped in a glamour somewhat like ours； but his spell makes e