Didn't Get Along Very Well
"...The storm approaches. We speak no more."
Aramis scratched his scarred forehead, a permanent wound he had received while fighting Irenicus at the Asylum, and wondered aloud: "What storm is it talking about?"
"I think it be talkin' 'bout the one that be coming out o' me arse." Aramis' dwarven companion Ithyr replied, waving the smell in the direction of another person with his lightweight-throwing ax.
"Gah, get that away from me!" The knight waved his gauntlet hand in front of his face. "Bah! It smells worse than a mage's stinking cloud." Cynewulf moved over to a rock and picked up his kite shield with his right gauntlet. The shield, which was almost as tall as the six-foot tall warrior, was made of bronze with iron bars crisscrossing in an ornate pattern all along the edges. This was Cynewulf's personal shield.
"Be ready." Cynewulf said, his tone turning serious, "There is danger coming. That statue said so."
"How in the Nine Hells did you figure that out?" Aramis asked, his grips on both his katana and longsword suddenly tightening. His black eyes darted left and right, searching through the forest they were in for any signs of strange movement or unusual activity.
"The skies are darkening. The clouds seethe with thunder and lightning." A voice said. Helm Cleaver, a barbarian from the frozen north, looked up at the skies. Past the tall, glimmering trees that hid parts of the sky and the soft, cool wind that was blowing east to north on this night, storm clouds from above seem to be purposely forming over the Company of Outcasted Fellows. It was as if the weather wanted to tease and abuse these six strange folk.
"It'll rain soon," Helm Cleaver continued, "It is as if the Nature Gods spell disaster out for us."
"I don't think Silvanus and the others would be so cruel." Aleanwyn, half- elven cleric/mage whose main deity was Mystra, the Goddess of Magic, said. "Your superstitions have gone through your head, barbarian."
"So says the priestess that's been blessed by Sune." declared the human healer Donahue. He was of average height and build and he wore nothing but simple garments and rags, all of them hand me downs from his father. He wasn't very attractive either. His nose was crooked from being broken so many times and he was missing his left eye, taken from him by a beholder the party had encountered so long ago.
"Enough," Aramis said, "We must be ready for whatever it is the statue speaks of."
"Whate'er you say, Bhaalspawn." Ithyr replied nonchalantly, "Best we not argue with ye decision making. Don't wanna end up like all the other folk that crossed yer path." Ithyr put his hatchet back in its proper sheath and pull out the war hammer that hung on his back. The hammer was about four feet in length. The shaft was made of finely polished adamantine steel and so too was the hammerhead. It was the heirloom of the dwarven Skyfist family, Ithyr's family, and it had been in his family for many a generation. When it was finally handed over to him though, he decided to put it to some use instead of having hung over a fireplace where it was very less useful.
"It's a bit too dark," Cynewulf said, his head moving left and right. "We won't be able to see much unless we get some light going." He then turned to the half-elf. "Do you think you can create some light for us?"
"I...I can try." Aleanwyn stammered. She sounded nervous at even the thought of using magic. "I ...you know what happens when I cast arcane magic as opposed to divine...I can't even tell what'll happen if I do. It's completely unstable."
"That's what happens when yer a wild mage." Ithyr mumbled, but no one heard him.
"So then just pray to Mystra to bring light." Donahue suggested, "There's really no need to call upon the unstable Weave is you can just call upon a blessing from the Lady of the Weave herself."
"Forget it." Helm Cleaver pointed to the southeast. "There's no more time."
The bickering party turned to the direction that the barbarian pointed, and found him or herself looking at a lone figure. The figure was a human woman, dressed in a green tunic and a long brown skirt. She was not very attractive. She carried in her left, long slender fingers a staff that had a blue glow to it. Her girdle was gold in color and it held many pouches and...wands.
"MAGE!" Aramis shouted. "My swords have a place for people like you!" Aramis hated all wizards, with Aleanwyn being the only exception. Magic had not saved his foster father Gorion, and it was magic too that almost killed him and his friends on both Hell and earth. To Aramis, magic was a curse from the gods, a curiosity that would only end in death.
"I have been hunting you for sometime." The wizardress said, her voice both melodic and sinister. "So it all comes down to this, doesn't it?"
"What do you want?" Aramis already knew the answer, but he felt like asking it anyway.
"Isn't it obvious?" the lady laughed. Her laugh was high, like a hyena's laugh, and her black hair bobbed as she did so. Her black eyes then concentrated on Aramis again. "I've come for you, Bhaalspawn."
Those words stunned everyone except Aramis.
"How do you know that Aramis is..." Cynewulf started to say.
"A child of Bhaal?" the stranger finished, smirking "I have known that for some time. The blood of Bhaal runs in his veins. I can feel it." She paused, a twisted smile spreading over her face. "His father's blood runs in me too."
Ithyr put his hammer back and pulled out a pair of his throwing axes. "It's like a damned family reunion." he said, staring hard at the lady stranger.
"It is, isn't?" the lady agreed, "But there are others like us, Aramis. Many others." It did not surprise Aramis that she knew his name. It seemed that everyone did these days. "Alaundo's prophecy is soon to be fulfilled. Bhaalspawn everywhere wreck the lands with destruction and chaos. Death lingers near us, wherever we walk, and those that oppose us fall by the hundreds... you should know that very well." Aramis did. Nothing but blood and guts seem to spill wherever he went. It was not much of a surprise, as that was the nature of his father Bhaal, the former Lord of Murder.
"So...who are you?" Aleanwyn asked, her face showing suspicion.
The lady wizard curled her lips into a snarl, "I am Illasera the Quick, strongest of the Five. Aramis, your head is mine!" Illasera snatched a wand from her girdle, pointed it at the party and shouted the word that would release its power. A streak of bluish-white lightning raced out of the wand and to the party. They all jumped out of the bolt's path, which crashed into a boulder, leaving behind trails of smoke and a scorched mark on the boulder's surface.
A great boom of thunder pierced the sky and a large downpour of rain suddenly soaked the dark forest and all its inhabitants. Flashes of natural lightning stung the trees around them. A few of the trees went aflame, and soon burning leaves and branches too were raining from the skies.
"This is madness." Helm Cleaver murmured quietly. He rolled and got up to his feet. Picking up his greatsword he charged at the mage. He was followed closely by Cynewulf and Aramis. As they closed the distance between themselves and Illasera, one of Ithyr's throwing axes flew past them and at the woman. Before it reached home however, a layer of stone suddenly covered Illasera's body, and when the ax made contact with the magical armor, it harmlessly bounced off.
Stoneskin, Aramis thought. His inner rage and hate of this half-sister of his increased a thousand-fold. Sprinting pass the other two warriors, he was the first to come within striking distance of the mage. Although the magical armor that Illasera wore protected her from his futile attacks, it would not protect her forever. If he could just wear it down to the point that it would disappear, he would have her at his mercy...
The long sword in his left hand struck first. The sword had a golden yellow hilt and the three and a half-foot long blade started to emanate a dull red glow. It knew that the bloodshed had begun. Aramis brought the blade down in a diagonal slash from his right shoulder to his left thigh. Taking step forward, he followed up with the katana in his right hand, holding the blade so that it was perpendicular to his torso. He let the blade sweep through. The first attack was supposed to create a giant gash from Illasera's left shoulder to just above the right side of her pelvis. The second attack was to drive the katana through the left side of her body and come out of the right, possibly pinning her arms, if they were at her sides, to her body in the process. The katana was sharp enough to achieve such a feat. It had the enhanced magical ability to do so. Alas, neither attack did Illasera any harm. Both blades bounced and slipped off the magically hardened material. Grinning, Illasera began to chant words of power, oblivious to the futile attacks of the other two warriors, who had joined in the fray with Aramis, hacking and slashing at her stubborn stoneskin spell. With a final gesture of her hands, Illasera vanished.
The warriors gaped. Damn the mage! They all knew that she was invisible and that her presence was still among them.
"Aleanwyn!" Aramis called to the half-elf who was busy summoning wolves and bears all around her. "I need you to dispel her invisibility. She must not get away!"
"Or take cheap shots on any of us either." Helm Cleaver said and Cynewulf nodded, agreeing.
Donahue chanted a prayer to Tymora, which instilled a greater sense of bravery and courage throughout the whole party. It would help counter any fear spells that Illasera would think of conjuring, he thought. Ithyr circled around Aleanwyn, making sure that nothing got to her without having to go through him. As the half-elf finished her chant, the three warriors spread out in separate directions, covering ground they thought Illasera would be at.
Just before the cleric/wild mages final words were uttered, a skeletal head appeared a few yard left of Cynewulf's side and raced towards Aleanwyn's and Ithyr's direction. It stopped and hovered over a pair of large brown bears for just a moment before exploding into an evil white light. In a flash, all the animals that the cleric had summoned earlier lay dead all around her. Many of them slumped to the ground, unmoving. It did not bother Aleanwyn though, as much as it did the others. With a wave of her hand and her spell completed, she felt a surge of magical power go through her and out, dispelling any and all magical illusions that tried to hide from her and her friends.
"There!" she pointed to a figure scurrying to hide behind a bush. Aramis and the others rushed after it. Moments later they were being driven back, parrying and deflecting the attacks of summoned ogres, hobgoblins, and other conjured creatures.
"Damn the wench!" Aramis cursed as he cut down his second hobgoblin. Another came from his back and would have taken his life if it had not been for a certain ax suddenly embedded in the back of its head. The creature dropped, and Aramis saw Ithyr a few yards away, a grin covering his face.
"At least nuttin' be protectin' these fools from me ax." Ithyr nodded.
"It wouldn't matter." Aramis answered, running his long sword through a goblin's head. "Their weapons can't hurt me, remember?"
"Hurumph, if that's how ye go 'bout thankin' others fer savin' yer life, then I may not save yer arse when ye be needing it most the next time."
With Helm Cleaver, Cynewulf, and the others doing battle with the summoned monsters, Aramis started mage-hunting for Illasera. He didn't have to look very far. She had run off from the spot wear she had conjured the monsters to another area that was not too far from the talking heads.
"There you are." Aramis said, standing a good five yards in front of his half-sister, who was standing in front of a small boulder. The trees and bushes around them created a sort of narrow path between the two, like lane in which there was no escape. Aramis noted that her armored skin spell earlier had finally worn off, leaving her defenseless and open to his blades. One thing about all wizards that Aramis liked most was that they were all terribly poor fighters.
"You think this'll be over so soon?" A smirk fell across Illasera's face. "This is merely the beginning. You cannot win this war. The Five will rise to power and all will fall beneath our might...that includes you, Aramis."
"You're making promises you can't keep." Aramis warned. To himself he thought: the Five?
"We shall see."
Aramis charged at her, both his blades raised above head so he could hew her into two, symmetrical pieces. Illasera made no move to dodge to the wild attack. The blades came down on her head--and through her body! The apparition vanished and Aramis found himself looking at no one. The sloshing of boots on mud behind him caught his attention and he spun around to find the real Illasera, laughing as a circle of red and yellow flames surrounded her. Multiple illusions of her fluttered about, but it was obvious to Aramis that the one in the middle of the flames had to be the real Illasera. The coward, he thought
In her left hand she held the glowing blue staff and in her right was another wand. She held it pointed to Aramis' chest.
"Say good-bye, Bhaalspawn." As Illasera was about to utter the word that would activate the wand of fire, the illusions around her vanished, confirming Aramis' suspicion that she was in the middle of the flames. Aleanwyn must be near by, he knew. Only her magical purge of illusions could have dispelled all of the false Illaseras. The fireshield around the real Illasera also vanished too. She was defenseless, open...vulnerable. All this happened so fast that Illasera was shocked for moments. That was all the time Aramis needed. Taking four great strides forward, swords out in front, Aramis ran both blades through Illasera's stomach with such speed the mage felt as if she had just been punched in the guts.
"Good-bye, Bhaalspawn." Aramis spat in her face. Both thunder and lightning seemed to roar and flash in agreement as he tugged and twisted his blades in her then yanked them out. And then he watched Illasera drop to the ground. The blood from her stomach mixed with the mud and rained soaked grass, which soon formed a pool of murky colored liquid around her. Her mouth was hanging open and her eyes were filled with surprise. Illasera's breathing grew erratic and then gradually slowed down, until it finally stopped.
With the red glowing on his long sword slowly fading, Aramis sheathed both swords, bent down and went through Illasera's things, picking up the two wands she kept and taking the pair of boots she wore. He knew they were magical because there was no way she could have traveled with such speed from one area to another on her own. Aleanwyn would probably be able to identify them. He also took Illasera's staff, knowing that she probably wouldn't really need it anymore, given the condition she was in. He could probably get a good amount of coin for selling the obviously magical item.
It didn't take long for Aramis to find the cleric/wild mage. She was standing under a large tree filled to the brim with leaves. She was trying to hide from the rain.
"You know, it's not safe to stand under a tree." Aramis said to her, "Lightning has a bad habit of targeting them."
"Just as death and destruction seem target all those around you, wherever you go." She said as she stepped out from under the tree to meet him. Those were harsh words, they both knew, but they were true too.
"I thought you said your magic was too unstable for you to even cast a simple cantrip." Aramis said, changing the subject. The sentence was actually more of a question of how she managed to dispel Illasera's fireshield.
Aleanwyn shrugged or shuddered, Aramis couldn't tell, "I was lucky this time."
"That's because Lady Luck was with us on this night!" Donahue chimed in, standing beside Aleanwyn. Cynewulf and Helm Cleaver, with Ithyr appearing moments later, were close behind him.
"Had to get me axes back." Ithyr held up a pair of bloody throwing axes and pointed to two more that were strapped to his belt.
"Anyone hurt bad?" Aramis asked.
"No, we're all ok. Just a couple of bruises and scratches." Donahue answered.
"Can't say the same for her though." Cynewulf noted, his brown eyes eyeing the crumpled body of Illasera. "I see you and your sister didn't get along very well."
"We had issues." Aramis explained, "Just like all quarrelling siblings out there in Faerun. It happens when you try winning favoritism from yer dead father."
"So, this is it?" Helm Cleaver wondered aloud. "Is this is the challenge your father gives us? If you ask me he's not much of a Lord of Murder..."
If Aramis had fully heard what Helm Cleaver was saying, he probably would have backhanded the barbarian. But alas, he did not. His mind all of a sudden felt numb and his eyes were blurry. He could not make out the fuzzy forms of his companions. He could not hear their voices, nor could he feel the rain splashing on his body. There was something gripping his chest, his heart, and squeezed it with such force that Aramis felt that his heart would explode from the pressure. He thought he was going to die.
And then the world went dark around him.