Emerald eyes framed by long, flowing silver hair, the limbs below half-seen through a gown of fine silk worn over thigh-high boots, the gown itself covered by a tight-waisted stomacher adorned with flowing, sapphire-studded elven traceries of silverstar-thread. The Lady Mage of Water-deep strode forward to face the gaping merchant, who stood silent, teetering with the half-empty decanter in his hand and his mouth hanging open where he'd broken off in mid-bellow.

"Old Wolf," Laeral said crisply, "we have to talk." There was the faintest of sounds-and cold steel pressed against the Lady Mage's throat from behind.

"After," Asper said softly into Laeral's ear, from just behind the knife, "you identify yourself. I suspect you're the Lady Mage of Waterdeep, but we've been having a little trouble lately with shapeshifters."

Mirt made a half-amazed, half-delighted rumble deep in his throat. Like a striking snake, his leather-clad lady had swung down from the plant-filled skylight in the ceiling and now hung upside down above the Lady Mage, dangling from one foot caught in one of the rope loops used by those watering the plants.

Laeral calmly pushed the knife aside, turned around without stepping out of Asper's reach, and replied with a wry smile, "Most of the time I suspect I'm the Lady Mage of Waterdeep, too. Please accept my apologies for this overbold intrusion; 'tis not my habit nor to my liking, but-Asper, what shapeshifters?"

"Two I was forced to slay," Asper said, just as calmly, dropping barefoot and catlike to the floor with the knife still raised in her hand and ready to throw, "and one-"

"Who regrettably fell off yon balcony," Mirt rumbled with an airy wave of his hand, "when discussing the finer points of existence with me: my existence, to be more particular, and its chances of continuing."

"Malaugrym," Laeral muttered, "even here!" Mirt made a dramatic show of sighing. "Even in the best neighborhoods…"