war of the spider queen 1 dissolution-第20部分

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ation；　and　a　longhorn；　yarting；　and　hand…drum　trio　playing　a　lively　tune。　The　third　string　of　the　yarting　was　a　little　flat。
Ryld　knocked　with　the　brass　knocker；　whereupon　a　little　panel　slid　open　in　the　center　of　the　door。　A　pair　of　eyes　peered　out；　then　disappeared。　The　portal　swung　open。
Pharaun　grinned。　In　all　his　visits　there；　he　had　never　seen　anyone　turned　away；　and　he　suspected　the　business　with　the　peephole　was　just　an　agreenotable　bit　of　nonsense　intended　to　make　a　visit　to　the　Jewel　Box　seem　even　more　piquantly　criminal。　Perhaps　the　doorman　actually　would　attempt　to　dissuade　a　female　if　one　had　sought　admittance。
The　low…ceilinged　room　beyond　the　threshold　smelled　of　a　sweet　and　mildly　intoxicating　incense。　The　three　musicians　had　crowded　themselves　onto　a　tiny　platform　against　the　west　wall。　A　few　of　the　patrons　were　atnottending　to　the　performance；　but　most　had　elected　to　focus　on　other　pleasnotures。　At　one　table；　half　a　dozen　disheveled　fellows　tossed　back　their　liquor　simultaneously　in　what　appeared　to　be　a　drinking　contest。　Other　males　threw　daggers　at　the　target　on　the　wall　with　a　blithe　disregard　for　the　safety　of　those　standing　in　the　immediate　vicinity　of　their　mark。　Dice　clattered；　cards　rustled　and　slapped；　and　coins　scraped　across　tabletops　as　the　lucknotier　gamblers　raked　in　their　winnings。
Ryld　studied　his　surroundings　with　his　customary　unobtrusive　viginotlance；　surreptitiously　cataloging　every　potential　threat。　Still；　Pharaun　was　amused　to　see　that　his　friend's　eyes　lingered　on　the　web…shaped　sava　boards　for　an　instant；　which　was　likely　all　the　time　he　required　to　analyze　the　four　contests　in　progress。
Sava　was　an　intricate　game　representing　a　war　between　two　noble　Houses…at　least　that　was　what　it　currently　represented。　Pharaun　had　seen　an　antique　set　that　recapitulated　in　miniature　the　drow's　eternal　struggle　with　another　race；　but　such　pieces　had　gone　out　of　fashion　long　before　his　birth；　probably　because　no　player　had　wanted　to　be　the　dwarves。
With　its　grid　like　board　regulating　movement　and　its　playing　pieces　of　varying　capacities；　sava　resembled　games　devised　by　many　cultures；　but　celebrating　the　chaos　in　their　blood　the　drow　had　found　a　way　to　intronotduce　an　element　of　randomness　into　what　would　otherwise　unfold　with　a　mechanical　precision。　Once　per　game；　each　player　could　forgo　his　normal　move　to　throw　the　sava　dice。　If　the　spider　came　up　on　each；　he　could　move　one　of　his　opponent's　pieces　to　eliminate　any　man　of　its　own　color　within　its　normal　reach；　a　rule　that　acknowledged　the　dark　elves'　propensity　for　doing　down　their　kin　even　in　the　face　of　a　serious　external　threat。
Pharaun；　who　privately　considered　himself　cleverer　than　Ryld；　had　always　been　a　little　chagrinned　that　he　couldn't　defeat　the　weapons　master　at　sava；　but　alas；　his　friend　wielded　mother；　priestess；　wizard；　warrior；　orc　slave　soldier；　and　dice　as　brilliantly　as　he　did　a　sword。　Indeed；　he　claimed　that　fighting　and　sava　were　the　same　thing；　though　Pharaun　had　never　quite　understood　what　the　assertion　meant。
The　wizard　clapped　Ryld　on　the　shoulder　and　said；　〃Play。　Amuse　yournotself。　Win　their　gold。　Just　remember　to　make　conversation　while　you're　at　it。　See　what　you　can　learn。　Meanwhile；　I'll　try　my　luck　in　the　cellar。〃
Ryld　nodded。
Pharaun　navigated　his　way　across　the　crowded　room　to　the　bar。　Behind　it　on　a　stool　sat　wizened；　one…legged　Nym；　an　elderly　male　who　for　sheer　surly；　unwavering　misanthropy　rivaled　any　demon　the　Master　of　Sorcere　had　ever　conjured。　The　old　retired　battle　mage　was　happily　engaged　in　snarling　threats；　obscenities；　and　orders　at　the　goblin　thralls　pouring　drinks；　but　he　grudgingly　suspended　the　harassment　long　enough　to　accept　a　handful　of　gold。　In　return；　he　tendered　a　worn；　numbered　leather　tab　with　several　keys　attached。
Thus　equipped；　Pharaun　walked　through　the　arch　beside　the　bar　and　down　another　flight　of　steps。　At　the　bottom　waited　the　real　business　of　the　Jewel　Box　and　the　reason　Nym　had　not　seen　fit　to　hang　a　placard　outside。
In　Menzoberranzan；　where　a　goddess　and　her　priestesses　reigned　supreme；　few　female　dark　elves　ever　found　it　necessary　to　sell　their　bodies。　Only　a　handful　of　the　sick　and　infirm；　dwelling　in　the　most　abject　need；　had　ever　stooped　to　such　a　degradation。　Accordingly；　one　might　assume　that　any　male　wishing　to　purchase　intimate　panionship　would　find　his　choice　limited　to　these　rare　unappealing　specimens　or　the　females　of　one　of　the　inferior　species。
But　that　wasn't　quite　the　case；　at　least　not　if　a　male　had　a　heavy　purse。　The　reason　was　that；　while　they　generally　devoted　their　military　efforts　to　fighting　cloakers；　svirfneblin；　and　other　peting　civilizations　of　the　Underdark；　drow　cities　on　rare　occasions　waged　war　on　one　another。　Once　in　a　while；　such　conflicts　yielded　female　prisoners。
The　prudent；　legitimate　thing　to　do　with　such　potentially　dangerous　captives　was　interrogate；　torture；　and　kill　them。　That　fact　notwithstanding；　Nym　had　on　several　occasions　managed　to　bribe　officers　to　give　him　their　prisoners；　whom　he　then　smuggled　into　Menzoberranzan　and　down　to　the　cellar　of　the　Jewel　Box。
Nym　had　gone　to