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Lady Nalia D’Arnise was awakened from a sound slumber by pounding on her door. Woozily, for she had a slight headache, the results of yestereve’s celebrations, she unbarred it to see an excited Imoen standing there, her possessions hanging all over her, shifting impatiently from foot to foot. “Immy, dear,” she began rather crossly , but her friend cut her off.
“No time to talk, Nal,” she cried, “I’ve got to be off. I’m going to Baldur’s Gate. Attalus is there, and he needs me. You, too, I expect.” She shoved the message scroll into Nalia’s unwilling hands. It read:
My dear sister, I hope that this finds you as well as it leaves me. I hate to interrupt your studies (Attalus thought that she was still at Candlekeep) but something has come up. The drow, for some reason, are attacking Baldur’s Gate, and they have asked me to head up the defense. Needless to say, I would like you by my side. After all, there haven’t been many battles that we have not been comrades in, have there? So, come and meet me at Baldur’s Gate, to thrash the drow that were so cruel to your new sister-in-law, who will also be there. If you see any of our old friends, tell them of my urgent desire that they join us here, too. Your brother, Attalus.
Nalia looked up sharply at her guest. “Did you not see, Immy,” she asked crossly, “that your brother is asking me, too? Did you think I would say nay, after all we have done together. Sit down or get some breakfast while I pack. I’m going with you.”
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