Bhaal. A god; the Lord of Murder, he was a death bringer; a scourge of the Earth. Some who still know of his story call him the reincarnation of evil. However, there are many others still, who have called his children, the Bhaalspawn, the true essence of all his evil. When the great god foresaw his own death he created children through the use of many—usually unsuspecting—mortal women, spreading his children throughout the world, so that they may be sacrificed once their power has been reached, to bring him back from his inevitable death.

One of the most famous of his children was a daughter. Her entire life, was, and has been, an amazing exploration screening her own self power, her friends, her enemies, and her well known exploits. However, her last most well known bound of what has helped fashion her notoriety was when she killed a powerful and sadistic mage-ling known to the public as 'Irenicus'. After the sinister man was destroyed, the word on the child of Bhaal's and her friend's actions were spread around, by the grateful people whom they saved, nearly instantly.

For a very short time, the Bhaalspawn and her companions that life would finally settle. They were wrong. They were thrust into yet another form of Hell when many children of Bhaal became known, and were in the midst of battling each other to gain power, and become the new, God of Murder. The righteous Bhaalspawn placed it in herself that she must destroy her dark siblings and stop them from allowing a new God of Murder. She was triumphant in her efforts; killing all her evil siblings and destroying the Throne of Bhaal. She was even thrust into battle with the essence of her father, and she was victorious in the fight, defeating him. However, before the final blow was struck, her father managed to use what power he had left to send her back to the Throne; currently falling apart from destruction. With no other alternative she and her companions ran from the throne. After the throne was fully demolished the victorious child of Bhaal, and two of her siblings, lost the dark essences of their father. And were pressed into the world of mortals' bodies.

Everything seemed well with the woman and her comrades for a time; the lovable oaf known as Minsc helped the young Avariel elf, Aerie, return to her homeland, with her newly acquired wings created by the Bhaalspawn before her loss of power. The half-elf Jaheira left to make a new life, and Cernd; a human shape-shifter whose connection to the wild is unfathomable; joined her in hopes of the two creating a grove for Druids. Nalia, a very young and amazingly compassionate girl, continued on with her life before, helping all those that she possibly could; venturing to many cities and regions to further her trials. A young—for being an elf—Drow named Viconia DeVir, broke from the group, fairly quickly after Irenicus's death, because of a very powerful dispute between herself and the child of Bhaal. As for the child of Bhaal, she left to travel all realms she possibly could, to find the remaining—unknown to nearly all—children of Bhall. Imoen, the famous child of Bhaal's best friend, and half-sister, traveled with her; wishing to help her as much as possible, and also, even if a little unwilling, wanting to learn of any more children of Bhaal. Sarevok; another child of Bhaal, followed along with the two, doing so both by his oath, and his new want to make up for his past sins. It has been over one hundred years since the child of Bhaal and all her companions, immediate or otherwise, split to find their new lives…

The Lingering Children of Bhaal

The sounds of much chatter filled most of the tavern; men arguing over nothing of importance, women resentfully speaking amongst each other about their drunken arguing husbands; goblets clashing softly and gold pieces jangling in satchels or clinking on the table from unknown bets. People moved loftily about the pub, drinks being ordered, hunks of meat practically being tossed about by hearty men; and in the middle of the festivities in this rather dank tavern filled with many drunken and apprehensive people, is an unusually large, both in height and robustness, blue-skinned masked man, wielding an enormous black axe, lifting the metal mouth-cover very slightly, only to sip from a bottle of wine. The colossal oddly tinted man grumbled quietly to himself, shifting exceptionally softly, the black and red armor covering his pants clanking loudly; the scars surrounding his shirtless torso practically glowing on his darkly dyed skin. He shuffled his shoulders and cracked his jaw; his shoulders and his spine were dawned with small, sharp, black bone-like spines protruding from his skin. The large man's head, mostly shaven, brandished a very short, thin black Mohawk; currently laying flat.

He leaned against the bar, laying his elbows on it, and sighed densely; the barmaid walked near to face him, her red hair bouncing and her smile wide and intense, "'Ello there big fella. I see yer almost out of wine thar. Can I get ye s'more?" The demonically frightening looking man lifted his head to her, then swirled the small amount of liquid within the bottle around and grunted.

He cleared his throat, the very sound boisterous on its own, and spoke in a chillingly deep and gruff voice, "No thank you Madame. I believe as soon as I finish my… swill, I will be leaving this tavern. I have much commerce to attend to within this village." The redheaded barmaid tilted her head, trying to force her eyes not to widen at this startling man's astoundingly calm and sophisticated accent lathered in a proper use of elocution.

"Erm… of course. If there is anythin' ye need. Just holler for Emma and I'll come down," She cleared her throat and smiled dimly, feeling fairly self conscious at her own frail use of rhetoric. She spun on her heel and walked to the end of the bar to speak to another patron; the large man lifted the mouth-cover and finished the bottle. Popping his jaw once again he gently set the bottle down and strode down the tavern, his steps loud and surprisingly polished.

His movements stopped dead when he picked up the sound of a short muffled cry across the tavern; picking that single sound through all the thunderous others. His head bolted in the direction of the cry; seven heavily reinforced and fairly large men crowded around a small, dreadfully terrified young woman. He growled low and shook his head, moving his steps down towards the men. A few of them chuckled darkly, poking at the girl and throwing harsh threats to her.

The large man stopped right behind the men and growled massively, forcing all of them to turn sharply, their expressions brash and aggressive. The tallest and largest of the men raised a thick brow and flipped long bangs out of his face, "Can we 'elp ya?" The blue man cracked his neck and crossed bulging arms that looked as though they shouldn't have the ability to bend as such.

"Yes; actually. I believe you hellions are harassing this young lady here. And I am telling you to leave her alone and to exit this tavern calmly," The man bent forward somewhat and narrowed his eyes behind thin slits on the helmet, growling evenly again. Despite the blue man's staggering size and gruesome voice, the leader of the crew seemed unmoved.

The leader, though tall and large himself, yet obviously smaller than the gargantuan blue man, but seemed to have no fear whatsoever towards him; snorted and looked back to his comrades, "Oh really? 'Ow precious. Listen mate; this is none of ya business. Yer a big man, but ya don' look dumb. I suggest that ya just turn 'round, and back off. Ya may be big, but yer outnumbered. An' this lil girly got nothin' ta do with ya," He chuckled darkly and smirked piercingly at the girl, who at the moment was practically curled into a standing ball, "She's ours."

"Is that so?" The blue man cracked his neck and laid his arms to his sides, "True. This justly is none of my business. However, this young maiden looks as though she could barely lift a sword, let alone defend herself against a brooding group of hollow irresponsible louts. And I cannot simply stand by and allow such a vulgar display of misplaced self indulgence on a defenseless girl because of your pitiful inferiority complex." The blue man raised an unseen brow; most of the ne'er-do-wells tilted their heads and stared in confusion at the man's lexicon that was obviously far beyond them, however, the leader steamed understanding his apposite string of words fully.

With a heavy sneer the leader unsheathed a large broadsword and aimed the tip of the blade at the blue man's chest, "Now listen 'ere ya blimey…" Without indecision the blue man gripped the blade securely by the edge with his right hand, and no struggling from the leader could pull it away.

Blue leaned in closer and glared darkly; his eyes beginning to glow a dark red, "That was a poor decision on your part you fetid ruffian. You have no idea whom it is that you face. Or rather… what it is that you face." With a callous tug, Blue pulled the sword from the leader's grasp and tossed it so fiercely, it stuck into the stocky stone ceiling above. In a few short moments the leader took an ineffective step back, Blue grabbed him by his throat and tossed him forcefully to the wall ahead of him; knocking a couple of the thugs over in the process. The leader smashed against the wall, creating a crack within the stone and dropped to the ground unconscious.

The other thugs helped the fallen ones and readied themselves with threatening weapons. The woman behind the men shuffled away from the comatose leader staring in shock at the feats ahead of her. Blue raised himself higher and puffed his large chest; dark red sparks of electricity flickered around his body, as his eyes glowed even brighter.

"Fools. You actually prepare your weapons to face me. I will give you onechance to remove your arms from your palms and sheathe them, and to leave this young one alone," Blue rumbled to them darkly. The eyes of the thugs that could be seen widened in shock and fear; this oversized creature obviously far beyond this simple band of delinquents.

A thug at the very right end of the circle—clearly the smallest of the crew—shook his head and whined softly, "That is it! I'm not about to die over something as idiotic as distressing some woman! Forget this, I am gone!" He quickly veiled his sword and ran towards the exit, darting between people and chairs.

One of the thugs yelled, "Coward!" at the escaping one and jumped to the front of the group, "You do not frighten me! I care not your size or whatever magics you hold! If I have to fight you alone then I shall!" He pointed his sword in Blue's direction, "Have at you!" Blue shook his head slowly muttering 'fool' and sighed softly. He casually seizes the thick handle of the black axe dwelling upon his back and swings it ferociously. The massive head of the axe smashes into the floorboards a couple feet in front of the thug. An extreme force of the red magic resembling electricity flies from the axe and collides into the thug; sending him flying into the wall behind him, right next to the fallen leader. He stays attached onto the wall; his body shaking and convulsing from the dark magic. The others that jumped out of the way of their flying comrade got the hint after glancing at him and split apart, running out of the tavern as fast as possible.

Blue easily pulled the axe from the busted floorboards and slung it back onto its holster, then he lifts his right hand and the sparks disperse from the thug's body, dropping him to the ground; twitching softly. The young woman stayed along the wall, gawking at Blue, her face draped shock.

Blue straightened himself and glanced lazily around the bar; all the patrons stared at him in either shock or abhorrent expressions. He blankly ignored them and looked to the young woman; she finally stood straight, but kept her blue eyes on him. He slowly stepped forward towards her and she leaned back against the wall slightly. He stopped ahead of her and bowed his head somewhat, "I hope that those clods did not harm you; are you well?" She continued to stare at him, but her expression dropped to relief and she let out a few soft, nervous laughs.

"Y-yes… yes I am fine… I suppose… they did not harm me. It was good that you came along when you did… the others within this… this hole would not help me. They just… just ignored it! If you didn't help me, Helm only knows what they would have done. T-thank you… you have no idea how much I thank you." She pulled away from the wall and took a step near Blue; looking him up and down a few times.

She crossed her hands and nodded her head slightly, "My name is Athea Amine." Athea gave the man a kind, nervous smile. He looked at her for a moment, silent.

Finally he took a short breath in and replied, "Hello young one, my name is Baldeer. I am pleased that you have come out unharmed," Baldeer took one more momentary look around the tavern and curled his nose behind the helmet, "Hmm… Athea, would you like me to accompany you for awhile once away from this wretched tavern? I do not like the looks of the tavern alone; and the area around is less than reputable." He returned his gaze back to Athea, who was smiling a bit wider.

She flashed her white teeth and responded, "Yes, thank you. That would be most helpful Baldeer." She smiled fully this time and he nodded to her.

"Well then, let us leave this place before we draw any more attention to ourselves," Baldeer turned slowly and waited for Athea to move by his side; once she had they made their way down the now unvoiced tavern.

Baldeer turned his head towards the barmaid and tossed a small bag of coins onto the bar top, "I apologize for the disarray. But I suggest that you keep a better eye on some of your more troublesome clientele; lest this entire hovel be collapsed within the weight of a detrimental battle. I can only assume that you would not want that… would you?" His tone was callous and serrated, with a hint of cynicism. Athea lifted her head to look to him as they walked off; it was obvious to her that this recent occurrence incensed him greatly.

As they walked through the large heavy wooden door; presently held open by Baldeer to let Athea through, she said cheerfully, "Thank you Baldeer for walking with me for a ways… as you said; this is not the safest area within this town," Baldeer moved next to her and they continued down away from the pub; moving through the thin dirt roads of the town moving past old decrepit buildings, "I simply don't know how I'm going to repay you! I owe you my life… and considering those fetid men, perhaps more."

Baldeer quietly shook his head and replied, "There is no need young one. I could not stand by and allow something like that to happen. You owe me nothing, I assure you." Athea raised a brow and squinted her eyes a bit.

"I am not that young Baldeer," She replied hotly. He looked down to her; her height was obviously smaller than even an average sized man. Her short brown wavy hair accented her wide blue eyes and her very slender body. Her cheekbones practically popping out of her face.

"I find that hard to believe miss…"

"How so?" She said through pursed lips and narrowed eyes. Despite Baldeer's large size and his apparent battle wounds; he seemed slightly alarmed by her boorish expression.

He cleared his throat and struggled to find the proper words that would not cause her to grow even more agitated; or to possibly leap at him and attack, "Yes… well… Your size, for one."

"And just what is wrong with my size!?" She practically growled, cutting him off. Baldeer's eyes opened wide in astonish at this seemingly small and utterly kind girl who was just curling up against a wall in fear; managing a jagged and startling tone and expression that made him glad looks could not kill for he would be lying lifeless on the ground by this point.

"Uuuhhh…" He struggled very hard to find the perfect words for his explanation, "Well… you are… you are not as tall as many others…" He watched her face carefully, waiting to see her expression. It hadn't changed, "Eh… you are very slim. And your facial features are quite large… that tends to be connecting to someone of a… younger… age…" He held his breath.

Her eyes narrowed further and he could feel his very armor getting hot, "I'll just have you know that I am twenty-three! I am no child! So I believe that there is no needtocontinuetocallmeyoungoneortotreatmeasthough—" She began speaking so fast that all her words strung together and she stopped to a halt, continuing to sputter out even more words, becoming incomprehensible. Baldeer slowed to a stop and raised his brows as a blue glow resonated around her head.

"Athea please! Calm down! I meant no insult, I assure you! You are beginning to blaze with magic!" He leaned back growing more staggered every moment. The moment he stated that she shut her mouth and darted her sight to her glowing hands.

"Oh… you are correct… I suppose that I still need to learn more control over my recent bouts of magic…" As her voice calmed with her, the magic's quintessence slowly dispersed. She looked back up to him and smiled, "I am sorry Baldeer; I overreacted. I have just had to endure much bigotry because of my youthful appearance." Baldeer smiled behind the mask; mostly because she had finally composed herself and his fear of being assaulted by tiny woman had ceased.

"You have the ability of magic. To be honest I did not expect this," He declared; his voice able to 'show' his smile behind the metal. Athea shot a wide smile right back at him and rolled back on her heels, then turned and began walking again with him following.

Her stride widened and she skipped slightly; this action making her look even younger, "Yes sir I do. I found out recently from my mother that magic runs within our family. Apparently one of my ancestors traded her voice for magical power." Baldeer quickened and easily caught up with her pace; his stride almost doubling hers.

"And exactly what was it she completed this… 'transaction' to?" He idly asked her; feeling oddly at ease speaking with her.

"A Goddess. Y'see, this powerful succubus goddess named Pl'tall heard my ancestor singing, and she sought her voice. So she goaded my ancestor into wanting the power of magic. The succubus gave half her magical essence to my ancestor for her voice. And it has been passed down from the generations. I had no idea of it for my mother has never told me. The magic moves from my father's lineage and… well my father is no longer with us," Athea told her short story happily, continuing her giddy walk. Baldeer's first reaction was to give condolences for the loss of her father, but he quickly decided against it.

As she spun around to face him she stumbled over herself and dropped to the ground. With inhuman speed Baldeer bolted to the ground, slung her into his arms, and jumped back to his feet. She looked up to his face with wide eyes and a gawking mouth.

"I trust you are alright?" He asked with a smile in his voice.

"Y-yes… thank you," She returned, her pale peach skin beginning to blush, "I am not the most… nimble person around." She giggled somewhat and snorted, halting her giggling and forcing her eyes wider with her entire face burning with a bright red hue. Baldeer smirked beneath the mask and subdued a laugh of his own. Athea struggled and he let go of her carefully as she jumped out of his arms; stumbling momentarily before collecting herself. She straightened her sullied blue dress and cleared her throat.

"Well… let's continue shall we?" She said throatily. Baldeer shook his head still smirking and followed behind her quickening pace.

Athea took a few glances back at him while moving swiftly prompting him to ask, "Is there something the matter?"

She looked back once again and glared ardently, "No!" She hastily turned her head around with a loud 'humph' and sped up; her body beginning to sway widely from her extreme stride. Baldeer tilted his head and leered weakly, not fully understanding exactly why she was mad.

He took a deep breath and said, "It was nothing of importance Athea. You simply faltered in your step." She looked back with pursed lips and narrowed eyes; her death-glare.

"I know that! That didn't matter! UGH! You just do not understand. You're probably too old. Considering you called me young one. What are you anyway? You're huge, blue, and glow with red sparks of magic, and black needles bulging from your skin," her words and sharp and speedy. She turned back around to resume her angry-walk followed by another 'humph'.

He shuffled his shoulders and rolled his head around, answering with a blatant tone, "Yes. I am old. Very old. But I am a human, well half a human."She turned her head once again with a raised brow and her expression no longer laced with daggers, but filled with interest.

"Half? Well, considering your blue skin I can only assume that you are half Drow as well, aye?" She asked furtively.

He shook his head, "No, I am no elf."

Her brows furrowed and she tilted her head, slowing her pace, "Not a Drow? Well then perhaps half orc?... with… oddly tinted skin. I mean you are exceptionally large." He shook his head once again with a short sigh.

She slowed to a stop and turned to fully face him, curiosity now brimming, "Well then what by Helm are you?" He made sure to stop a few feet behind her crossed his hands diffidently.

"I would… much rather not say Athea," His deep ominous voice was now small and placid. She pulled her hands to her hips and tilted her head.

"Come now Baldeer! It is quite alright to tell me. I will not judge you. I do not believe in such prejudices. Now out with it! I'm feverishly curious!" Her voice squeaked near the end.

He reluctantly leaned back and crossed his hands behind him, "Please Athea. Can we not simply continue to your home? I have much that needs to be done and these interludes are slicing into my time. Perhaps we could just—" She cut him off by stepping right in front of him and narrowing her eyes sharply; standing to her toes to appear taller.

"Baldeer. What is causing this fear of telling me? I am a meager peasant girl with no friends in this Hell hole of a town, who just happens to be half your size! You saved my life; I owe you much. I will not tell a soul whatever it is you are! I promise," Her voice softened as well as her face and she tilted her head. He tilted his own slightly to gaze away from her. Despite his own thoughts, his past experiences of divulging his own lineage and how it always creates troubles. He felt an odd need, a want to tell her. He knew better than that.

He looked back to her and removed his black steel helmet; then the mask covering his mouth. His features were as sharp as jagged stone, tiny spines dotted his forehead and chin. Large fangs stuck out under his lips, and thick eyebrows accented his broad, fierce face. The only human appearance within his face were his eyes; supple and a bright green. Athea's expression stayed initially the same, only her eyebrows raised.

"The other half of my heredity is nothing of this world. My father was Bhaal. The God of Murder."