Most of these characters aren't mine, but I, too, wish some of them were.

x - x

-Bishop

It was the chaos of combat, the blood spatter, the tang of blood, even if some of it was his own. Free at last to do whatever he felt like again. Killing the morons he'd had to suffer for months was icing on the cake.

The idiot dwarf was going to be first, though he'd get to the precious paladin in due time. He'd save their commander for last... once more for old time's sake. He could feel his smile freeze into place, despite her yammering. She could just keep hoping he'd grow into a tame wolf until it was too late. This should be fun, how he could taunt her, and draw it out.

He snarled, and looked at his companion, who was blocking her attack. She was too soft on him too, with treats and ear scratches all the time. But Karnwyr was him, willing enough for treats, but never seduced.

His companion was down, and she was standing over the wolf's body with only a glint in her eyes.

The dwarf ceded the combat to her, after only a token protest. This should be fun in a different way, she obviously thought she could take him on.

Heh. He was too funny.

And said as much, but her face didn't change this time. Excellent, a rage would make her sloppy. He told her that once, back when he gave a rat's ass.

They engaged, and he was shocked at the power behind her blow even as he parried. Hmm, maybe this might last long enough to be interesting. Mocking her magic was so easy, but she still didn't react. Maybe she wasn't in a rage...

When his blade stopped moving as he wished, he realized he was falling. She was covered in blood now, and he saw her tears tracking through the blood as his vision faded.

x - x

I woke feeling fine in a small, empty theater. The stage and seats were empty, but the area echoed with laughter. A strange laughter.

Enough of this crap. I got up to leave, and saw there were no exits from the room. There must be a stage door. There were no steps to the stage, but no problem, it wasn't that much of a leap

As soon as I touched the stage, the backdrop faded, and I saw the back wall. A wall of faces and bone, still strangely alive and making all sorts of unsettling groans of agony. It felt strangely familiar. There was no backstage to the right or left, only a few chairs on the stage.

The laughter faded a little, and a voice with the rich projection of a carnival barker spoke over the quieting audience, "Welcome, Bishop. Yes, that is your fate, and this is what little remains of your life. Have a seat in the audience, this is a show just for you."

I sat on one of the stage chairs, to the sound of his laughter, and that of many others I couldn't see.

"Ornery until the end, eh? Give him a hand, folks, delaying his journey just for us, not that he has a choice, anymore..." he said as he waved at me as if I was a whore with three breasts on display.

There was more laughter, and some applause from the nonexistent audience. That demented gnome would have been in ecstasy.

He stopped smiling and said, "Folks, your attention please. Yon weary traveler, has much to show us on the fleeting nature of true choice, even as a child he enjoyed bullying some larger than he..."

The stage area was now filled with an image of a small village street, a far too familiar street, where a small brown boy was beating a somewhat larger one. The beating took a while, as it was clumsy. But the larger child started to try to escape, and stayed right in front of me. The other child, me, kept sliding away with each attempted escape, but I still managed to beat him, almost to a pulp.

Some adult came up and restrained me talking nonsense, just as before. Stopping me by force when words did not do it.

His voice full of mockery, he declaimed, "Here was his first real choice, where he was free to determine his path through life. We've seen how that worked out, with him here so young. But what if he had chosen the other path...?"

I wasn't going to listen to this crap, anything was better... I ran for the back wall of the stage.

And bounced off some invisible force.

"Look at that, folks, he already forgot that he doesn't have any more choices. He's used them all up. Only the living can choose." His laughter was more demonic now.

I went out to sit in the third row, at least the images wouldn't be as dizzying offstage.

"Meanwhile, if he had chosen a different path, he would have controlled his temper a bit, and not drawn the attention of Luskan recruitment..." The ass's voice was more considering now.

The image, now much easier on the eyes, showed a stranger passing through the village. Once at the inn and twice on the street, he wrote notes after my childhood skirmishes, and left the village after a couple days. Later I was hauled off like a kicking and screaming sack of flour, and shoved into their indoctrination.

"This is what could have happened," the ass said dryly.

The child me stopped after a couple punches, and dragged the larger child off to the swimming hole. After a time or two, where it was the two of them against larger opponents, they were apprenticing and growing into adults. I looked the same, minus the scars. Bedded some wenches, married, and settled in some small town after trading in leathers. The town was unfamiliar to me, and I had several children, followed by grandchildren as I aged. When I died, many grieved.

This was far different than being taken away from all I knew, to be someone else's pawn. And probably only one grieved for me, ever.

"But we mustn't blame him too much for that choice, some bullies grow out of it, especially once they get a taste of the other side. But he wasn't that bright..."

The laughter surged around me again, and I looked for anything to smash. But I had nothing beyond some simple clothing, and the seats were hard as metal.

"That could have been his life, the life of a leather merchant..."

x - x

"How do you like that folks? He would have done well in the life of a sheep, a life below the notice of the powerful and strong..."

The laughter was growing again as I circled the audience area, looking for a hidden exit.

The smile was evident in his voice, "But we all know that that wasn't his path anymore, someone wanted to harness that anger for their own uses, and so made their own changes..."

The images were now of my training, in weapons, in stealth, in patience for the pounce. But they were always telling me what, where and when to do everything. Now older, I destroyed the piddling village and the others, barely escaping with my own life.

I didn't have to watch this, I still dreamed of it occasionally. But I found no secret exits, and sat in the back row.

"Here we see one of his larger choices. With so many possible paths. Who should he kill? The ones who enslaved him for years? Or the ones who were still lucky enough to be free? His masters had him convinced villagers were worthless and he quickly jumped to obey their command to go there, to kill. Good dog!"

More laughter, and I'd bitten my lip, though I didn't taste any copper and felt little pain.

"He could have followed his orders, and killed the villagers..."

The image showed a bloodbath in the village, but where I advanced rapidly as a assassin. I had wealth, and bimbos, and plenty of violence. But I was only their tool. In the flicker of many deaths, I saw a dead Nevalle, while I laughed. Good, he always was a pain in the ass. No warrior should look that pretty.

Next I saw myself dying, at the feet of Nasher. She had killed me, but no tears this time and she was barely injured. No one else I knew was there. I died as I had lived, alone, and ordered to it as a worthless pawn.

I growled, "End this, now!"

The voice was smug, "He remembers he has a voice, but still no choice. His life choices are the scope of this course, and its not yet time for an intermission."

"That could have been his life, the life of a Luskan assassin..."

x - x

"But that pivot point had several choices, what if he'd selected the other one, the third he never saw?"

The image was back to the village, but this time I roused the village. A few followed my direction, enough that I was again the only survivor of the attackers, but most of the villagers survived. My family had been long gone. Once the village was marked for death, the villagers had to go, and they gathered their possessions before they followed me into the woods. We all then burnt the village to disguise our departure. The group gradually shrank as we passed through other towns and villages. Karnwyr appeared in these images, a much healthier looking wolf than I remembered from those days.

I stopped looking, and stared at the floor. The laughter started again, and laughed in fits and spurts.

After a while I looked up again, and the image was not moving.

The voice I was beginning to hate, sniggered, "You didn't think you would avoid this that easily? This is all for you, you have only one choice in this show, and it will probably pass you by, like all of these..."

The image of Karnwyr began to run again. The I of this story spent a much longer time with Malin harrying Luskans and enjoying respites in larger towns. Some shadows killed her, and I barely survived the war. I'd lost an eye, and settled, training others in woodcraft and spy-hunting. I'd aged a bit more before dying, while fighting a large group of Luskans with others.

"That could have been his life, the life of a good ranger..."

x - x

"But he didn't make either of those choices, and so nearly died from his double betrayal at the village. You'd think that might have been a clue, but no, he could only hate the one who saved him... Does anyone want to send him a clue?"

A chorus of laughter and catcalls came as Duncan got me back on my feet. I'd never known why, but I could see in the image a possibility. I was still undergrown, and in my leathers there was the faintest of resemblance to Daeghun. They'd been estranged from what She'd said, long before I met Duncan.

"But what would he do with his new-found freedom from the Luskans? Stay to the shadows and strike, as they wanted?"

I recovered and took only enough violent and nasty work to feed my habits for ale and wenching. Duncan tolerated me, and in return I refrained from misbehaving too much in the Flagon.

"But what if he had forged his own path? Come out of the shadows and learned a few things he'd missed?"

Here Duncan became almost a soused mentor, teaching me people, and there was no debt or force. Karnwyr was here as well, but I'd been hired as a guide for many adventuring groups who got lost at the drop of a hat. I'd seen much more of the realms, and was wealthy enough to be a partner of a much nicer Flagon. I helped guide Duncan's niece a time or two, and slept with her a time or two, but ended up a guest at her wedding at the Keep. Eventually I'd had a series of lovers who started life at the Mask, but I was happier on the road, and died with my boots on.

There had been no laughter for this tale.

"That could have been his life, the life of a friend..."

x - x

"How much longer do I have to listen to your dribble?"

"He speaks! Now is our intermission, where lemonade and little baked cakes are served at the back of the theater. But that's not in the budget, so you'll have to imagine it instead. We all know you can imagine things out of nothing already, so a sweet drink should not be a problem.

"Do you yet see why you are here"

"I only see that I could have been richer if I gave a damn about money!"

The snide voice continued, "Very good, that is part of the answer, you could have been much richer, but not just money. You had chances for what you secretly wanted and more. But feel free to wear the hoodwink a bit longer... I won't mind..."

His laughter got dark again, as did all the other voices now. I looked around as it was coming from all directions. I was still alone.

"Bring on your next lecture, I want it over!"

x - x

Back in the rich tones of a master of ceremonies, the voice said, "But look! He's floated along for years, just indulging in wine, women, and song. Well, not much song, but the occasional pipe instead. His next choice was rather simple..."

The I of the visions was in the Flagon again, and I knew what was coming this time. The attack in the night, the Luskan branch, the calling in of a debt. This time, I saw the anger, sympathy, and sadness when I was trading barbs with Duncan on several faces in the group. That sympathy was rapidly erased as we traveled, and by the time Shandra had been rescued, only their leader seemed to care at all. There were far fewer lustful glances than I remembered.

The speaker began to laugh again. "He finally realizes, its not all about his prowess. But what alternate story could there have been, even this late in your error?"

Back to the night of the attack, with people boiling out of their rooms in various stages of dress to fight. They were fighters, even that idiot gnome. This time I offered to guide them, like any other group, and Duncan never even came into the meeting. But when we got back, I'd had their pay, and he canceled the debt anyway. I'd gotten a little friendly with several in the group, and even the paladin tolerated me more. The whirlwind of action was intoxicating, and hunting these foes was far more rewarding than Luskans. So I was with them for most of the war, taking breaks as I wished, and sleeping with all of the women at one time or another. That fun ended when I really saw the Shadowmere, spreading like a forest fire, with nothing in its path. But there would be no regrowth from this fire, Elanee's circle showed that.

So I was with them until the end, and after killing dozens of Kings and making our ways back to the Sword Coast, we all got hero's welcomes.

It was so strange seeing people give me respect. Karnwyr was a happy glutton. Much of the party scattered, but some stayed in or around the Keep, or at least visited. I got even more than just treasure, and ended up traveling with Neeshka, on what looked to be a permanent basis. I aged slowly, too slowly, as the paladin died of old age before I had much more than gray.

"That could have been his life, the life of a hero..."

x - x

"Aren't you done yet? I'm running out of life to have choices in."

He stopped laughing, and said thoughtfully, "Yes. Yes, you are. This is the next junction point in your life. When you had traveled with them for months..."

The other voices were gone, and I could nearly hear the images now.

I was back at the Keep, and the preparations for war were in hand. She was scouring the shops, getting me and all the rest the best armor, weapons, and magic she could afford, stripping herself and the Keep's funds. But I hadn't seen that she passed on to me, one of her own protective rings along with the new swords. Otherwise, it pretty much happened as I remembered it. But she hadn't slept with the paladin, and held him off from chasing me then. Later, she took the ring off my body, before killing the Shadowking. She eventually returned to Neverwinter, but not to the Keep, still wearing the ring as a sell-sword.

The voice showed a special level of sarcasm, "You begin to see where the other path is going..."

This time I watched the paladin leave her on the wall that night, instead of fleeing myself. And I spoke from the shadows to her.

I could feel myself saying, "I won't be tied down."

"Have I asked you to? Go, if you wish. Stay, if you wish. I will not bind you to my fate against the Shadowjerk. You might even..." her voice caught. "You may even get far enough away if I fail. So, go. Any weaknesses I have will be exploited. I must kill him to have any choices of my own. You have a chance to go, now before the siege starts."

I asked, "What about the paladin?"

She turned to look out over the empty village. "He's sweet. But I doubt I could ever choose him. If we survive, I will have to try to fix him up with someone nice."

"He's staying?"

"Of course, he's pledged his support, and he is a friend. He's just a bit too sheltered."

I was saying flatly, along with the image, "Do you want me to stay?"

She bit her lip, saying, "Yes. No. It doesn't matter what I want, not anymore. I'm in the funnel, and can't do anything until I come out the other side..."

I and the image said, with a different emphasis, coming out in a growl, "Do you want me to stay?"

"Gods help me, yes," she finally said in a tiny voice.

Lunging for her, she was as soft and warm as I'd always wanted. We kissed, with all of our pent up feelings on the parapet. We barely made our way to her quarters.

Afterwards she asked me quietly, "Leave the Keep, please? I want you safe and free, as I'm not."

The image and I said, "Now I can't cover your ass from there, so you're stuck with me." I began to kiss her again, going more slowly to savor it this time.

Hours later, her door burst open as the attack was getting underway. She was a bit embarrassed, as it was most of the party. Sand and Neeshka were settling some bet, and she took the paladin aside for a quick chat.

They both looked sad after that, but she returned to me for a kiss before dressing.

The attack went much as before but losses were much lighter, and more of the shadows were destroyed before they retreated to the Mere. Gaius and the king of shadows were still a pain, but Qara was the only real turncoat this time. Neeshka and Grobnar took care of her without any help, and with a lot of glee. The... shadowjerk wasn't that bad, not that much harder than that red dragon was. Separated when the gate exploded, I found her after several months far away, and we came back to the Keep. We aged together, though we didn't marry and I'd often leave for long periods. She was always there when I came back. After a while, I stopped leaving as much. She never became a noble bitch, and ran the keep as she ran the party, with tolerance and humor. I finally asked her to marry me, years later when we were white haired, and it was a small wedding with all the surviving party, including Casavir, his grandchildren, and the blessings of the gods.

"That could have been his life, the life of a beloved..."

x - x

There were no voices, no laughter, only the faint moans and lamentations from the Wall.

I found myself on my knees in the middle of the still moving images on the stage where only my double could touch and feel her.

"Gods, why do this to me now? When it's too late?" I managed to ask through a pain in my chest.

His unseen voice was deeper now, and echoed many voices at once. "Because she asked it from the time you fell until the gate was destroyed, and every day afterwards. We owed much, so you received once last chance to avoid that fate. But only if it was your choice..."

The stage and seating dissolved, and I was surrounded by several luminescences in blue, green, or red. They brightened until all I saw was white.

x - x

I took a deep breath of moisture laden air, laden with foul muck and faint scents of growing things. I was in an open air pit with bits of debris in late afternoon light.

A movement caught my eye, and she moved into view, looking much older, but wearing that ring again.

I looked at my hands and myself, I was intact if a little chilly. She got an arm under my shoulders to lift me up, even as I asked, "How long?"

She grunted as she did most of the lifting. I was weak as a kitten.

Then she said, matter of factly, "almost twelve years. It took me that long to free my soul, get powerful enough magics, and find your sorry hide. Sorry, I couldn't get Karnwyr, too."

"Why? The prayers? The search?"

"You were the only thing I really screwed up with in the war. I didn't want it to end with that, but it took me too long to get back for the normal spells."

Thinking for a moment, I saw that she was dragging me towards a well-established campsite.

I muttered something, trying to hide a grin.

She said, "What?"

I repeated my near whisper.

She bent closer to hear me.

I kissed her cheek, saying, "Thanks." While she looked at me in surprise.