ld have used some idle time drifting through emporia like； for instance； Daelein Shimmerdark's Decanter with its astonishing collecnottion of wines； liquors； and； for those who knew how to ask； potions and poisons from all over the world。 Perhaps it would clear his head。
Or maybe it would only give him another enigma to ponder； for though there was still plenty to buy； it seemed to him the Bazaar as a whole was offering fewer goods than usual。 Why was that？ Could it possibly have anything to do with the runaway males？
And what about the demon spider that had materialized above him and Ryld on the plateau and proceeded to break into Arach…Tinilith？ Did that tie in； or was it simply a gambit in one of Menzoberranzan's innumerable secret feuds that had nothing at all to do with his concerns？
He had to grin。 He knew so little； and what little he had gleaned was scarcely a source of reassurance。
〃There it is；〃 said Ryld。
〃Indeed。〃
Carved from a long； relatively low protrusion of stone； the Jewel Box sat just inches beyond what custom decreed to be the limits of the Bazaar； where all traders were required to shift their stalls to a different spot every sixty…six days。 Despite its lack of a signboard or other external advertisenotment； the establishment had always attracted a steady trickle of shoppers and merchants； and when the two masters descended the stair that ran from street level to the limestone door； Pharaun could hear considerably more sounds of revelry that usual。 There was laughter； animated conversation； 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 fou