Disclaimer: I do not own «Baldur's Gate" "Shadows of Amn" and other names, characters and places refered to here. All of them are the property of their respective owners.
Prologue: Fire and bloodSome people think that there exists a clear measure between good and evil. That the world is divided into black and white, and probably a bit of gray in the middle…. Many believe that it is true, but not me. I have seen that there is no true difference between light and darkness or good and evil. Every good act brings about an evil one and vice versa. You may ask who I am to tell such things and what gives me the right to tell you what is true or wrong…Let me tell you a story. A story that I have told many times before and still every time there is something new in it for me…
A terrible scream echoed trough the dark empty halls of fortress-monastery. It was a scream full of fear, pain and torment. Another followed just a few moments past. Then another and another…. Then the screaming stopped. A heavy silence fell just as suddenly as it was disturbed. There was only one noise to penetrate it now. A silent cracking of fire.
A tall dark figure was standing in the middle of a great round chamber. Two small red dots shined where the man's eyes were supposed to be, the rest of his face covered in darkness. The dim light coming from many fires around him uncovered a black cloak, light plate armor made of some strang black metal and an elegant-looking greatsowrd with a rune covered blade. Surrounding the man was a scene of terrible carnage. Blood was everywhere, splattered on the walls, gathering in large pools on the floor….There were a lot of bodies around him, all of them bearing horrible injuries and mutilations. Some of the corpses were burning, some of them were practically torn to shreds. Just in front of the dark figure another man stood on his knees. He was large and muscular, his head cleanly shaven and covered in sets of intricate tattoos. Both of the man's arms were severed up to the middle, two bloody bumps in their places. But, strangely, the man's noble face bore no trace of pain or agony.
The agonizing screams that sounded just a few moments ago were coming from another, a woman dressed in all black who now lie on the floor nearby. There was practically nothing left of the woman's face but an oozing mess of burned flesh and melted blood. One of her arms was half-torn from her body by a sword blow and one of her legs was missing. 'Such irony…' Balthazar – the master of Amkethran tought. 'She hoped to use the boy to her advantage, and yet now there she is begging on her knees to spare her wretched life only to be slaughtered like cattle a few moments later.' The bold-headed monk turned his attention back to the person standing in front of him. 'Do you expect me to beg for my life as well?' he almost spat those words.
The dark warrior chuckled. 'It would be appropriate in a situation like yours' His young voice sounded calm devoid of all emotions. Again, Balthazar was astonished by this man, despite all the hatred and repulsion he felt towards him, the monk couldn't but wonder at the power of self-control he possessed. ' Just do what you came for…I lost and my life is in your hands. I am prepared for death.' Balthazar looked directly into the man's face. It looked young, but was already covered by scars of manhood. The largest of them running form the right temple to the middle of cheek. A predatory smile played on the man's lips. 'No. I already finished what I came for. It is time for me to meet my destiny, but it's still too early for you, monk.' He sheathed his sword and walked past the kneeling man. Balthazar felt a surge of anger overwhelming him 'What are you doing! Come back here and let's finish this!' the injured monk shouted. But the other ignored him. He knelt near the disfigured woman's body and took something from her neck. Then he started to walk away. 'Come back here damn you! COWARD!' Balthazar struggled to his feet, he would fight his bastard with his own teeth if need be. The dark stranger stopped suddenly. Slowly he turned around and raised his left hand a ball of red flame around his black-gloved palm. The last thing that Balthazar saw was a bright spark of flame in front of his face. Then it was just darkness and pain….. All of a sudden the monk realized, that he was not dead yet, but that his eyes were burned out by the spell. He collapsed on the floor in agony, praying for a swift end, but it never came. Then he heard a voice of his tormentor. 'I spared your life for a single reason, monk. Others will come shortly after me. You know them, they are lead by a paladin Darris. If you're lucky he'll put you out of your misery and kill you.' The sound of steps indicated that the man was now walking away. But then he spoke again ' By the way, if he asks you who did this, tell him that it was Alfain.' Then it was just silence and the cracking of flames……