Kyria is the ranger/assassin with whom I played through the original campaign. I think this role suits her far better than that of hero of Neverwinter. All characters aside from Kyria are the property of Obsidian. I based this story in one of the "gaps" in the main campaign-- few well told stories of great length fill in every minute of the time they span-- so what do all of the PC's companions do in the gaps? And honestly, it didn't seem like Luskan tried hard enough at killing off that pesky Harborman to be believable, if she was such a threat. I had to fix that. I also edited this section when I realized I'd need a chapter title (having written another installment) and took the suggestion Anesor mentioned in a review.
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Chapter 1: Gamble
"Let's just say I have unfinished business with your ranger friend," Kyria's lips pulled themselves into a sly twist of a smile.
"I do not like the implications of this, for our leader's sake... and for my own," Casavir's gaze left the assassin, and floated upward toward the warehouse's ceiling.
"Oh come now, paladin. He's an evil man. Both you and I know it. Really, how hard can it be to say yes? I'll even do it for half price."
"I will not pay to end a man's life, even if he is..."
"Your rival? Say it, you know it's true."
Casavir's face contorted in anguish, and his eyes squeezed shut as though the pain were more than the pangs of jealousy.
"Casavir," she continued, taking on the semblance of concern, "there is a real danger here. Stop and think about it. She's fallen prey to his charms-- it's obvious. And insofar as that, she is at least somewhat subject to his whims. He has his claws in her heart-- he'll twist. You remember poor Malin at Port Llast, don't you? Did she ever tell you what Bishop manipulated her into doing?" This is too easy, she thought. He's so... trusting. Believing. Paladins. Ha.
Casavir's lip trembled, and his eyes locked with the assassin's. "Surely she... wouldn't..." he trailed off.
"Bishop's good. He... I do have a code, standards, whether you believe it or not," she drew to her mind the memory of her panther's death in order to feign the tears appropriate to the moment, as her glance shot down to the floor. "Bishop convinced me... to... to betray my family. He manipulated me into believing they... It's painful to talk about. He lied to me, and then laughed at my tears!"
Casavir reached out for Kyria's shoulder. Oh, he'd bought it hook, line and sinker.
"I just fear he'll do the same to her," she finished, and looked up to fully gauge the paladin's response.
"I fear as well."
"Just know that your decision here tonight may prevent a great evil."
"I..." the paladin faltered.
"You love her, don't you?" she prompted.
Casavir did not respond at first.
"Don't you want to protect her, keep her safe?" That barb found its mark-- Casavir's face contorted. Really, this was going to turn out to be an easy assignment. Garius would be pleased. Where her compatriots had failed, she would succeed. Torio was too in love with politics and public games to have won through, and Lorne, well, Lorne was too in love with blood. No, the way to accomplish the task was to splinter them, break them into factions, petty, bickering and distrustful of each other. Then she would strike at their leader's heart. But first, she simply had to find the weak points in their cohesion. Every group had such fault lines.
"Yes." Casavir hung his head.
"Don't worry. You made the right decision." She stood, and began to saunter to door. "If you wish, you can simply leave the payment with the captain of The Siren's Kiss."
Casavir's head snapped up. Damn it, that was not a good sign.
"I cannot. I will not. No," there was a hint of steel in his voice.
She shouldn't have mentioned payment, she realized. Damn it all. "And what will you do about Bishop's grasp on your companion?"
"I will speak to her myself."
"It may already be too late... will she even believe you?" She was losing ground; the paladin was shaking his head.
Her earlier approach of Qara had surprisingly yielded no results-- could she risk losing the foothold that this rivalry granted her? No... no, this was too great of an opportunity. But she had already made certain Bishop wasn't with his companions, that she might strike at him alone... She would take this gamble.
"Are you certain?"
"Yes, I am certain," the paladin responded, and moved as if to leave.
"Bad answer," Kyria drew her knives. She would ensure that Bishop took the fall for Casavir's death, and recriminations would ensue, splitting up their little band. Not as elegant as her initial idea, but hells, it would have to do.
Casavir wasn't as slow as she had anticipated. His blade rasped free of its sheath less than a second after hers. Damn, she'd have to watch for a lapse in his guard, and he had reach on her. She circled him for a moment, taking in his stance. Then she let one of her knives fly, a mere distraction. Casavir moved to block it, and she seized the opportunity to get in under his guard...
She was stopped by a change in the air currents. She hadn't heard it, but the there was a shift the air's movement, as though someone had opened a door. Instinctively, she dove and rolled away, just as an arrow whizzed by her face. She chanced a look at the warehouse door, and the archer who stood there. How ironic that it would be Bishop who came to the paladin's rescue, she smirked. This wasn't going to end well if she didn't get out of there, though.
Her movements would have to be erratic, as Bishop was leading his target with deadly precision... perhaps? She slipped in close to Casavir, under a swing angled to strike down through her shoulder and into her chest, turning sideways at the last moment, to strike once in an upward thrust under his pauldron. The paladin was now between her and the ranger. As she had hoped, Bishop held his fire. Using Casavir's tall frame as a shield, she danced backward as the paladin redirected his momentum into an upward cut that just missed her. She sprang suddenly to her right, into a crate, which she pushed off of to change direction. The tactic worked-- Bishop's next arrow harmlessly embedded itself in another wooden crate just behind her, and she took cover behind a large stack.
"Damn it all to the Nine Hells! Move your armored ass, paladin!" Bishop roared.
Casavir bolted after her, but Kyria was already weaving in between the piles of casks and barrels toward the warehouse's back door, the only other egress. Having staked out the site before hand, she had the advantage. She could hear the ranger and paladin struggling through the maze of stored goods. A parting gift, she heaved on a tower of barrels and listened as they knocked into other cases and crates, crashing like dominoes.
"Bishop, hold!" she heard the paladin shout amid the clatter before she darted from the building. Instead of seeking an alleyway, she leapt atop a rain barrel, grabbed the eave of the building, and hauled herself up. Flattening herself against the roof, she stilled her breathing to listen.
"You idiot!" she heard the ranger fume. "You got in the way of my shot!"
"Peace, ranger. The assassin cannot have gotten far. I must thank you, though. I underestimated you-- you came to my aid."
"Take your aid and choke on it. That bitch had been trailing me earlier. She smacks of Luskan."
"I see," Casavir's tone hardened. "Come, then." She heard the sound of retreating plate mail. She couldn't risk looking to see if Bishop had followed, but chanced a guess that he had. She'd guessed right, and so she set off across the roof in the opposite direction.
Well, she'd fared better than Lorne at least. But she knew the price of failure. Either time to find another way to kill that reeking whore of a Harborman, or put some distance between herself and Garius.
