A/N - This short tale assumes you know the basic story of BG2:SoA and (eventually) ToB. If you don't, you won't get as much from it as you potentially could.
It was over. The man -- the fearsome necromancer who had caused so much pain and suffering to the family -- lay dead at his feet. His dying words had sought to blame everything on spirits and demons; he claimed to have been possessed by a force that compelled him to travel through time, seeking out his descendents so that he could use their own lives to fuel his abominable existence.
He had a name, of course. Lavok. It had been the most notorious name in the whole Corthala line -- the ancestor who refused to die. And now, at last, the curse had been brought to an end, but at what cost? There was no one else. Valygar was the last of the bloodline, having sworn to bring an end to the accursed Corthala name to prevent Lavok from continuing his unnatural life.
Now Lavok was gone, and all Valygar had left was the lingering bitterness he felt; a weak aftertaste to the distrust and loathing he'd held for magic and those who wielded it for almost his whole life. What future could he possibly have?
--
The wingless cleric had insisted they take the necromancer's corpse to the nearby temple; a Temple of Ilmater, the Crying God, of all places. Valygar had just snorted; he would have pretended that it didn't matter to him either way, whether they saw to the remains of his ancestor, or whether they were left to be rot on the steps of his magical travesty. But, in truth, he was glad -- not only because someone else had suggested it, so he could distance himself from the idea, but because it was the first time the young girl had managed to put her foot down and almost demand that something be done.
The others had not been overly concerned either way – Valygar had wondered, had one decided to argue with the priestess, how quickly her determination would have seeped and sapped, drained from her as quickly as a drunk's bottle. But as no one had, the body had been ritually carried to the kindly priest, and a donation left in their wake to oversee any costs and efforts. When they'd then left, Valygar had found himself following his new companions automatically, only pausing to stop when their leader -- a red-haired young man, strong, honourable, and completely blind to the futility of acting on behalf of the Gods -- had. Brevad was his name, and he was proud of his status as a Paladin. He'd asked if Valygar wished to continue travelling with them.
Valygar had taken a quick look at the assembled men and women. The good-natured, laid-back paladin; the avariel mage who also served as a slave to her chosen gods; another godly type -- this time, a man who also had aspirations reaching to paladin-hood; the peaceful man of nature, who was the only one to smile during the late hour; and the young noblewoman, studying the deprived area in which they stood as if she were assessing whom to next give a stray gold coin to.
Valygar had sighed and nodded.
--
It didn't take long for Valygar to settle in the group; it had helped, of course, that they'd aided him against his ancestor, rather than turning him into the Cowled Wizards as they'd originally been hired to do. But from the moment they pledged their support to his cause, he felt as if he could trust them -- and that wasn't a sensation he often experienced.
Brevad was, initially, very much a mystery to Valygar. He obviously held good intentions, and his devotion to his path and Gods were unmistakably clear. But he spoke of himself even less than Valygar did; eventually the ranger learnt that he'd lived with a foster father, of sorts, and he had been killed on the roads. This had left Brevad on his own with his little sister, and together, with the help of some friends, they'd found the killer of the paladin's father -- and discovered he was Brevad's half-brother in the process.
And just when Brevad and Imoen, his sister, felt they could get on with their lives and parted company with their comrades, they were abducted and taken to Athkatla. They managed to escape, but Imoen was taken into custody of the Cowled Mages, along with their original kidnapper. Now Brevad was on a joint mission -- to rescue his young sibling, and to find out what his former captor had wanted from them.
Somewhere along the line he'd met with the others. The priest, Anomen Delryn was his name; he'd met the paladin in an inn close to where Lavok's planar sphere had erupted into being. Brevad had been alone, disorientated -- Anomen had offered his service when he heard what had happened to the young maiden, and so they'd joined forces with a god-fearing display of camaraderie.
It had not always been smooth-sailing, however. The avariel girl, Aerie, had been the third to join the group, rescued by the two knights (or one knight, and the other still aspiring, Valygar noted) when her circus was taken over by one of the crazed gnome illusionists. Rather than return to her home, she'd asked to continue travelling with the men, and they had accepted her offer. She had witnessed the rough with the smooth; the younger Delryn, lacking the years of service that Brevad had already accumulated, was impatient, lacking the foresight to understand why the slightly elder man chose the paths he did. There was occasional ill-feeling; not hostility, she had quickly reassured the ranger, but a tension between them. Brevad had all that young Anomen wished for, but feared he would never have. Aerie didn't seem share the young priest's worries; travelling with Brevad, she had said, had been nothing but enlightening and inspiring for Anomen. She had no doubt he will pass his test; especially now, she'd said.
Valygar had asked, why now.
Aerie had smiled. Because he had learned to deal with his anger, she'd said. Because he'd lost his sister, and he had seen past the fury in his grief; because he'd realised he did know, all along, how he was meant to act as a knight -- because it was how he had acted. Then she'd sighed softly, and a reflective look crossed her face as she spoke of how he'd needed only a little guidance to keep him right.
And next time, Valygar had wondered. Would he need guidance the next time he felt his ire rise?
Aerie had shaken her head. No, she'd mused. He'd learnt. And the discussion had ended, leaving each of them to mull over their exchange. The girl was almost an enigma to Valygar; she stood for everything he despised, but carried an aura of innocent inoffensiveness with her. Sometimes he managed to forget that she was so enveloped in the ways of the arcane, both with her magic and her spirituality; and then he'd see her as a gentle peace-maker, the one in the group who hated bickering and in-fighting above all else, and who only wanted everyone to be happy; everyone to be friends.
And she was growing in confidence so much, every day, that he couldn't even pity her. Not the normal condolences, though -- he hardly saw her lack of wings as any significant problem, though he could understand her sorrow over their loss. No, his pity was for her blind devotion to her god, and her steady assurance that they'd be under his protection while she remained his loyal servant.
That, along with her magic, made her everything he should despise and scorn. And yet, he didn't. The young noblewoman, Nalia, however, wasn't free from his contempt he discovered. She meant well -- he had to at least acknowledge and agree with that. But her methods, and her ways... it exasperated him just to think about it. She would idly give coins to the beggars on the street, knowing that each one she passed on was one less for Brevad to have to put towards his sister's rescue -- for that mission, in itself, was to cost the party a pretty price. And when questioned about it, she would grow flustered and hot-tempered, declaring that society itself was unfair, and she would do all she could to redress the balance. But when redressing the balance involved trekking along the Athkatlan sewers, or digging around in old, dirty caves, the young noblewoman would turn pale and protest initially, until the others calmed her down and coaxed her into joining them. It was obvious to Valygar that she wasn't fit for a life on the road; but it was Aerie, again, who filled him in on the woman's immediate past.
She'd lived with her father in a large keep, set in the heart of their lands, Aerie had said. She'd been known to sneak out, managing to find her way into the city on occasion, where she'd make her way around the poorer areas, handing out what money she'd managed to carry with her, and lecturing anyone who'd listen on the unfairness of it all. She only wanted to do some good, Aerie had noted.
And then one day she'd gone to return home, and as she'd ridden over the crest of the hill, she'd seen her home under attack by vicious creatures. Her home had fallen swiftly to the invasion, and her father's men had been driven out, the drawbridge closed after they fled. Nalia had panicked, riding back to the city as fast as she could. She'd almost managed to run Aerie over, apparently, in her haste to find someone, anyone, to help.
It was a task that the paladin and squire couldn't turn down. They'd marched there as fast as they could -- Nalia's horse had bolted when she reined it up after the near miss, and the noblewoman had unceremoniously been deposited onto the muddy ground. The image of this caused Valygar to smile slightly.
After the keep had been saved, but Nalia's father had not, the young noblewoman had faced a choice, Aerie had said. To stay at her home and wed a man she hated but was betrothed to, or to take to life on the road under the safety of Brevad's protection. Aerie had insisted that Nalia had no choice; nothing would have been quite as bad as spending the rest of her life in an unhappy relationship, the avariel had stated. Valygar had shrugged.
And then there was Cernd; not even Aerie knew much about Cernd, as he had been the most recent to join with them, just before they returned to the city from a trip to Trademeet. It was on the way back from there that they passed through the Umar Hills, finding Valygar in his cabin and agreeing to follow him into the Planar Sphere. It all seemed like a lifetime ago...
But Cernd; nature-loving, quiet-spoken, good-hearted Cernd. He was, in some ways, much like Aerie -- preferring everyone to get along with each other, and distancing himself from any squabbles as much as he could. Sometimes it was easy to forget he was there, because he might not have said a word for hours; but when he finally spoke, his melodic voice would easily wade through nature driven metaphors while deftly avoiding any real reference to himself.
And then there was Cernd in battle; a quiet voice at the rear of the rank, calling on the blessings of the natural world around him... and then! Then a beast charging past, more wolf than man despite his tendency to run on two legs and use his 'arms' to claw and mutilate. It was always the quiet ones, Valygar had noted to himself that you should watch out for.
And this party seemed to have more than its fair share of quiet ones.