The glimmer of reflection off the smooth marble surfaces, lit only by candles and torches within the majestic structure, was enough to make any man pause in appreciation for the beauty, the majesty that had been so carefully constructed. Statues of old knights, long since passed away; memorials of heroes that sacrificed themselves for the sake of others. Even statues of the gods that these men and women, the knights of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart, worshipped with a zeal unmatched by any but the most devout of clerics.

In the grand chambers where the judging of knights and squires took place, a man's fate was being decided once more. Outside the mighty oak doors that maintained the secrecy of events which took place within, five adventurers waited with a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. It had been a long journey for Anomen Delryn, going from arrogant, impetuous squire to a conflicted man with a good heart who tried with all his might to suppress the darkness that lay buried within him. Had he been alone in his journeys, attempting to reach knighthood in the ranks of the Order, he would have fallen long ago. As it stood now, after achieving his goals and then coming within inches of throwing it all away in the pursuit of revenge, those who had stood by him and helped his cause could only wait for the judgment passed down by Sir Ryan Trawl, paladin of the Order.

Imoen glanced at the closed doors, unable to keep from fidgeting as they waited. She'd tried to hear what was being proclaimed inside a few moments ago, ear pressed to the door firmly, but a look of warning from Jaheira had gotten the girl to return to her seat, a mahogany bench that sat opposite the doors, placed so that any who waited for their fate inside the Hall of Judgment would face it directly when the time had come to enter. Still, Imoen felt no reason to avoid swinging her legs impatiently, her mouth twitching as she tried to find something to occupy her attention while time passed. Finally another sigh escaped her lips, the thief-mage unable to take the quiet any longer. She turned to Aerie, seated beside her, asking the question they'd all been internally voicing for the past half hour. "So... whaddya think? Is he gonna be okay?"

"I don't know." Aerie confessed quietly, her blue eyes never leaving the door in case they were flung open when she wasn't watching. "T-they've been in there an awful long time... you'd think they would have said yes or no right away and been done with it."

"Minsc sees no reason for this." the ranger grumbled, adjusting the scabbard at his side so that he could sit more comfortably. "Anomen did not kill the man who killed his father. He showed himself very much a knight. What else is there to talk about?"

Jaheira, her hand at her chin and supporting her as they waited, turned and flipped a few braids of hair from her face as she replied. "Perhaps not, but Anomen has demonstrated qualities that the Order must certainly be concerned about. It would be unwise for them not to consider whether the knightling is truly ready to join their ranks-"

The doors creaking open cut Jaheira off, and all eyes went to the armored man who strode from the Hall of Judgment, his expression carefully neutral. The five men and women who had accompanied him for the past few weeks immediately stood and came to him, awaiting word of the judgment he had received. Anomen ran one gauntleted hand through his beard, exhaling quietly before speaking. "As always, the judgment of Helm is fair. For my actions that caused the deaths of the men who guarded Saerk's home, I have been stripped of the rank of Knight of the Order."

An immediate chorus of complaints and protests erupted from those beside him, but Anomen raised a hand, trying to calm them before their voices caught the attention of one of the Knights passing through the Order Hall. "Still, the Neutral god sees acts of both good and evil. For sparing the life of Saerk, I have been kept within the folds of the Order, though once again I find myself a squire, working to prove my worth before I receive knighthood once more."

Greywulf stopped his own protests, nodding in acceptance. Fair enough- the judgment could not be argued, and from the calmness within Anomen's features, it would seem that the young man was slowly coming to terms with his own demons. "So... more mercenary work from the Copper Coronet then?"

Anomen smiled briefly, closing his eyes as he shook his head no. "Nay, there are few things in this world that will draw me back to that den of filth... Hendak's management aside, of course."

"Of course." Jaheira nodded calmly. "What will you do then? Surely you must have a plan of sorts to prove yourself once more."

"There are always opportunities for good works in the Realms... I shall simply have to seek them out rather than waiting for them to find me." Anomen confessed, pausing a moment as he gazed at the five adventurers before him. "I do not believe I have ever properly thanked you for the good you have done in my life. If not for your intervention, I should have been expelled from the Order long ago, and justly so. No matter what happens from this point onward, I want you to know that I shall not forget what you have done for me. Someday, I shall repay the kindness you have shown to me."

Minsc laughed, slapping Anomen across the back with a force that made the stout young man stumble a bit. "Minsc and Boo have no doubt that you will be a knight again soon! You have kicked the butt of evil at Minsc's side and that is enough for him!"

"I... ah, I thank you, good ranger." Anomen said, coughing slightly as she tried to find the words to reply to Minsc's over-exuberant expression of faith in him. "While I would like nothing more than to stay at your side while I try and prove myself again, I fear that I would find no worth or testing of my own soul with your constant care and watch. I must find my own way... and I wish you only the best as you return to your own path. I'm sure you are eager to return to the elven city."

"We'll miss you, Anomen." Aerie smiled shyly, the squire bowing in respect to the Avariel as she folded her arms before her. "Perhaps someday our paths will cross once again."

Across the Order Hall, a cloaked and hooded monk, supposedly awaiting a meeting with the Prelate of the Order, watched their goodbyes and their well-wishes. His eyes narrowed and he gathered himself to depart, ready to report this new knowledge to his master. He passed them by, barely hearing Greywulf's final parting to Anomen. "Me... I wouldn't doubt it a bit."

X X X X X X

The sound of the axe striking the wood placed on his cutting block made a drum beat as steady as the heartbeat of the aging man who made his home in the woods. The axe went up again, coming down with enough force to split the block beneath. Both pieces tumbled off on either side, and the older man wiped the sweat from his brow as he leaned down and picked up another block of wood. He'd been at this for the past few hours, his daughter coming out and gathering the wood and stacking it inside for the upcoming winter. There were only a few more weeks before they'd need this supply for the winter chill.

"Father! I've begun roasting dinner for us... it will be ready soon." his daughter's voice brought a smile to the aging man's face as he turned and nodded, acknowledging her news.

"Very well, Mary. I shall finish this last cord of wood and then be in to join you." he watched the train of her blue dress disappear inside their cabin once again, and for the millionth time since she had been rescued by the band of adventurers a year ago, he thanked the gods for her presence. She had anchored him, kept him going when they had still been under the thumb of the tyrannical Jierdan Firkraag, and even after the death of the fearsome red dragon, Garren Windspear valued nothing in life more than his daughter.

He looked up, the glare from the setting sun giving him pause as he squinted, trying to make out how much light he would have left before the forest surrounding him would swallow any chance at finishing the work he'd begun outside. If he hurried... yes, perhaps. With another grunt of effort, he hefted his axe and split another block of wood, feeling the burn in his back muscles as he mechanically put another block up for splitting. Just a bit more-

The wood around darkened for the briefest of seconds, followed by a distinct sound of wing-beats that had once inspired terror in him and his daughter. Now, it was a sound to welcome and rejoice in hearing, though he could scarce help bit feel a bit of nervousness, knowing the nature of his visitor. She had proved benevolent thus far, but his long experience with Firkraag had made him less than trusting in dragons and their actions towards humans.

Mary had not been completely oblivious- she ran outside, a look of curiosity crossing her freckled features as she opened her mouth, questioning what she had heard while inside the cabin. "Father! Was that-"

"Hello, Garren. Mary."

The regal tones of Adalon, silver dragon and former protector of the Underdark passage strode from the woods surrounding, the train of her silver robe flowing behind. Her glowing gaze rested firmly upon the pair who made their home within the lands she protected- Garren bowed once in respect, letting the head of his axe rest on the ground beside him. "As always, it is an honor, Lady Adalon. You are well, I presume? Your hatchlings, too?"

The edges of Adalon's lips curled upward as she nodded, crossing her arms in front of herself, long fingers clasping together as she replied, "Quite, thank you. They are growing fast- they will be able to join me in hunts soon enough. And you?"

Windspear paused a moment, considering his next words carefully. If there was anything he had learned in his time suffering under the rule of Jierdan Firkraag, it was that the affairs of dragons were never to be taken lightly. Adalon the wise, Adalon the silver... Adalon the dragon. Benevolent though she may have been, there was no chance she had come from the stewardship of her young to simply inquire into the doings and affairs of two humans. Something had drawn her out... and if there was something going on in the Windspear Hills that was drawing her attention, it was something that he and Mary should be taking a vested interest in as well. "We are well, as always. You'll forgive my bluntness though, my Lady... but something tells me that you did not leave the safety of your lair to indulge us with a simple chat. What has brought you to our doorstep?"

Adalon's eyes tightened, and her human-looking pupils flashed reptilian as white light blazed all around her. Both Garren and Mary Windspear covered their eyes from the intense flash, only looking back when it no longer seemed as though the sun itself had come to earth before them. No longer was there a slim figure of pale yet powerful beauty standing before them- in that place had come Adalon's true form, a silver dragon that towered before them, her jaw snapping twice as she craned her neck to the left and the right. Her voice echoed with power and majesty as she spoke once more, "You are right to suggest that I had an ulterior motive for visiting you. I need your help."

"Our help?" Garren's blood chilled, and if he had been wary before, her words had done nothing but alarm him further. To 'socialize' with a dragon on friendly terms was one thing... to be asked for help by one of these majestic beasts of old was another entirely. He exchanged a look of worry with his daughter, and they both read the same thing in each other's eyes. If there was a problem that Adalon the Silver could not handle, it was big. And unfortunately, probably far bigger than anything he could handle. "Lady Adalon, we are flattered..."

"But we are no adventurers." Mary stepped to her father's side, taking him by the arm. "What could we possibly do to aid you?"

"I... I am not certain." Adalon confessed, and the hesitance in her voice did nothing to calm the spirits of those listening. "For the past weeks I have felt as though there is a dark presence invading these lands... watching. A spirit of darkness that I cannot discern. It has diminished in the past few days, but still... naturally, I fear for my young. I shall not permit them to be threatened once more."

"What would you have us do then?" Mary asked, tightening the grip on her father's arm; she did an admirable job of keeping the fear from her voice, but Garren could feel the slight tremble in her body.

"Nothing dangerous, I assure you." Adalon soothed, spreading her wings wide as she reared back onto her haunches, preparing to take flight. "Just that you keep an eye out for anything... out of place. These woods are not as safe as I imagined them to be. I must return to my young- I have been gone too long as it is."

With that, Adalon soared upwards, quickly vanishing over the treetops and leaving the Windspear family to watch and wonder. On the edges of the hill country, overlooking the wood and watching the form of Adalon shrink into the distance as she returned to the remains of Windspear Castle, two pairs of reptilian eyes watched, unblinking as they spoke quietly to one another.

"He is not here, father."

"No... no, but he was. The monk's spell found only the traces of his essence- we will not find Gorion's ward here. We should return to the enclave."

Draconis turned to his father, gesturing toward Adalon as the older dragon turned to leave. "What of the silver one? We have watched her for so long- we know where her hatchlings reside... we could take them if we wanted. Perhaps use them to persuade her to join our army-"

"You underestimate the fury of a mother bereaved." Abazigal chuckled, his voice booming in the evening as they departed. "It is too great a risk at this stage. We must maintain focus... Gorion's ward must be found. He must be killed."

X X X X X X

So strange. So unusual. Not the fact that it existed, naturally. He had known of it all along, he had seen it on one or two occasions when visiting the surface for his own exploits for glory such as the Blooding. No... it was just still so strange for him to look around, and in all directions... nature. Grass. Trees. Living, breathing examples of what could be grown, what could be brought forth when blessed with light and nourishment. Such feelings of wonderment and awe at what was so commonplace to everyone else on the surface would most certainly pass in time... though if Solaufein had his way, he would rather that he never lost such feelings and ideas.

The drow elf sat in one of the many wide meadows in the grove of Letherel, simply listening to the songs of the dryads as he tried to center himself, looking for the peace that he had come to the grove to find. It had not been an easy choice, leaving the company of the Bhaalspawn. They had been his only tether of safety in the surface; he was certain that no others in the world above would show him the kindness or camaraderie that he had found in their presence. Most surfacers would take pleasure in hunting him, given half the opportunity. It had only taken two or three instances in the city of Athkatla where peasants had spied his true face beneath the hood he wore and either fled in terror or shouted hateful epithets that he had been forced to quell the anger and vengeful nature within him, a remnant of the years spent in the Underdark.

How to find peace in a world that hated him for no reason other than his race- Imoen had suggested the Dryad Queen of Letherel, Dianya, and despite uncertainty at what such a being would think of his request for help, he had followed the girl to this grove a few months after their liberation of Suldenesselar. Dianya had proved as benevolent as Imoen had claimed and was counseling him, helping him to find the inner peace he would need to survive on the surface. Imoen... his thoughts still wandered to the girl every now and then. He had felt the closest to her throughout their time together, the trickster and impish rogue such a dynamic clash with his silent, strong warrior. And yet, he could not help but miss her company, her laugh, her... presence.

Solaufein let that irony wash over him for a moment longer, smirking as he shifted his body further, letting the sunlight in the grove warm his chest, unarmored and shirtless. There was little use for it here... though that did not keep him from keeping a blade at his side. He had given the Silver Sword back to Minsc before they departed, acquiring a simple two-handed blade with a few enchantments in its stead. It never left his side, even in the grove of Letherel. Too many years spent watching for treachery and assassins behind every corner in Ust Natha had robbed him of the ability to fully trust his surroundings. After all, it only took one time-

A scream echoed inside his head... Dianya? Solaufein was on his feet in a split second, the blade out of its sheath and gripped in his powerful hands. He sprinted through the tree-paths, making a bee-line for the palace where Queen Dianya made her residence in Letherel. What had happened? Had she been attacked, killed- no. The grove of Letherel could not be sustained without her power; if she was dead, the grove would be collapsing around him even now. Still, he would not let his guard down quite so easily-

The tendrils of wood that composed a door into her palace were unresponsive as he approached- that in itself spoke to something wrong. They were normally ready to curl away, to admit anyone whom the Queen desired to see. She had never denied him entrance to her chambers thus far; Solaufein hefted his blade, swinging it twice and opening a path inside. He barreled in, looking this way and that, watchful for any adversary or intruder- down the hall to his left, in the meditation pool where Dianya would go to seek her visions of the future, he could see her limp form, sprawled on the floor and unmoving. His eyes widened as he sheathed his sword and ran to her side, sliding to her side and turning her over to look into her eyes. They were barely open, her hands trembling as he tried to calm the Dryad Queen. "Dianya... what has happened? I heard your voice... your scream, in my mind."

"Letherel... it has been f-found. B-breached..." Dianya whispered, a trickle of blood running from one of her nostrils, too dark of a red against her pale green skin. "My children... my sisters..."

The sound of footsteps hurtling through the passages behind them turned Solaufein's attention for a moment as three elven guards appeared, bows drawn and readied with arrows. "My Queen! We saw the drow cut his way inside- what has happened? Has he harmed you?!"

Solaufein was too concerned for Dianya's safety to take offense at the not-so-subtle insinuations of his own involvement in whatever was troubling the Queen; that did not mean he was going to let them sit by and make ridiculous accusations, wasting precious time. "Check the grove." he barked, the strands of his white hair falling over his eyes as he glared at them with a ferocity that had made hardened drow soldiers think twice before questioning him. "Something has happened to the dryads. Now!!"

To their credit, they only hesitated for a few moments before obeying Solaufein's order, the swiftness of the elves taking them from sight within seconds. Solaufein turned back to Dianya, cupping the back of her neck in his hand as he got her to meet his gaze, trying to keep her focused and conscious. "Dianya... what did you see?"

"I... I saw death. The rivers will run red with the blood of the innocent!" Dianya cried out, her voice growing in pitch with each word. "The Bhaalspawn will burn the forests to the ground, grind the mountains in to rubble, the plains into ash! Only two god-spawn stand in the path of the Five! My children- found out, defiled by the Spider Queen!!"

Her words chilled Solaufein to the bone- Lolth? Had that vengeful goddess sent the driders after him already? Had he doomed Letherel to invasion and attack by his mere presence? He would not put this paradise in danger by staying here, that much was certain. If Lolth wanted him, then he'd fight her minions, but it wouldn't involve those who had befriended him here on the surface-

"No..." Dianya took him by the hand, her eyes searching his as though seeing what he was thinking. "Not you. Not seeking you... they were seeking another. The Bhaalspawn-"

The sound of the elves returning got their attention, one of the guards holding out a dagger covered in a black sheen, the hilt engraved with the symbol of Lolth upon it. "We found this in the heart of Elisa's tree, on the outskirts of the grove. There were signs of a struggle; it looks as though she was attempting to stop someone from... from leaving."

"Leaving?" Solaufein growled. "That means they were here without us knowing to begin with... and only tripped up when trying to leave. Elisa spotted them... and they killed her for it."

"The Bhaalspawn." Dianya whispered. "They seek that which once was... the essence of the Bhaalspawn lingers here, in both your form and in their presence. The hunt has begun..."

Solaufein nodded, his thoughts already racing through the best way to find Greywulf and his companions. If there were drow involved, he could not simply wait in the grove of Letherel. It was not in him to wait while his friends- still a concept he found difficult to apply to his own life- fought against assailants, especially those connected with his old life. Finding peace would have to wait.

Outside of the grove of Letherel, a slim drow figure slipped through the shadows of the wood, a snarl of frustration escaping her lips. Sloppy, getting noticed by that dryad. Not that it had been any trouble, dispatching the woodland creature. Still, these forests, this surface world was not her domain. Such a hunt would have been better left to Illasera or the giant. Still, the monk's spell had led here, to Letherel. And she would not have been happy if Gorion's ward had truly been here and then allowed to escape. It was only a matter of time before they found his true location. Only a matter of time, Sendai thought with a predatory smile.

X X X X X X

The sound of heels click-clacking across the stone floor was little more than an annoyance to the robed and hooded man, meditating in the center of his chambers... at least it would have been nothing more, had he not known who would be so bold to interrupt him there to begin with. Still, he kept his eyes closed and continued to let the energies he had devoted to creating this ritual continue to ebb and flow through his body as he searched, divining the essence of his quarry and feeling for the strands where he had left his mark.

"Still nothing? If I didn't know better, I'd say you were wasting our time." the woman purred, leaning over a simple clay pedestal that held a candle- or it had, until she'd knocked it from its place. "Both Abazigal and Sendai found nothing, yes?"

He did not answer, instead beginning a low murmuring chant as he tried to focus his attentions further. The god-spawn had been so many places, touched so many lives... it was hard to distinguish between traces of his essence and the real thing.

"Balthazar, you're ignoring me."

The monk sighed in exasperation, assured that he would have no peace while she remained in his chambers. She held no fear of the fire giant, the drow, or the half-dragon... he supposed there was no reason she would respect him either. Balthazar rose to his feet, slowly opening his eyes and glaring heavily at the intruding woman. "I hear your words quite clearly, Illasera. I simply fail to understand why you must continue to interrupt my meditations. If you want to find this god-spawn as much as the rest of us, then I suggest you leave me to my work."

"You can hardly blame me, though..." she chuckled, her dark eyes matching his intense stare, a feat few people were able to manage. "Stuck here in this dusty enclave, waiting for you to come out with your admittedly unreliable predictions about where our elusive quarry hides."

Balthazar folded his arms, refusing to let himself be lulled into any sort of security or sense of comfort around this dangerous woman. "You knew- all of you, that these initial spells would be inaccurate. Finding one man amongst millions is no simple task."

"And yet, you send two of us on hunts that prove fruitless, while that brute of a giant is allowed to continue his rampage across the Realms... and here I sit, unable to join in any of the fun." Illasera tsked, shaking one finger as she batted her eyelashes beneath the dark Bhaal-tattoos that encircled her eyes.

"If you consider slaughter to be fun, then yes." Balthazar said tonelessly, though his point was taken well enough. It was always this way when he dealt with the rest of the Five... his mission was too close to theirs and he was too powerful to not be drafted into their ranks... but he was never really one of them. They knew it and he knew it; theirs was an alliance of necessity. The last part of the Five.

Illasera pushed herself off the pedestal and closed the gap between her and Balthazar, running a hand down the front of his monk robe with a predatory gleam in her gaze. "Why... yes, I do. You're too soft, Balthazar. I sometimes wonder if you can be trusted... we all wonder. Maybe it would be better for all of us if I took care of those suspicions right now. Which of us is really faster, hmm? We've never settled that question, you know. Your fists, my arrows..."

Balthazar smiled humorlessly, slowly raising one hand to pull her hand away from him, calmly but firmly. "I think we both know the answer to that... are you not called Illasera the Quick? But while I might fall prey to your speed, I imagine that facing an entire enclave of my monks would be more than even your skills could handle-"

Balthazar frowned, feeling the tug of a mental ritual of communication begin to pull at his consciousness. He touched one hand to his bald head, blinking as the thoughts came in like a flood, the monk exerting his full mental prowess to filter out the extraneous thoughts and paths of travel- paths that could pull his consciousness apart if he was unskilled or unprepared. Fortunately for him, he was nothing if not prepared. One of the monks he had sent to Athkatla- he focused his vision further, seeing what his servant had seen-

"There." Balthazar opened his eyes, nodding in satisfaction as he let the connection fade from his mind. Illasera's attention was piqued; she slipped into view, an anticipatory look in her dark features. He nodded, the woman laughing in delight, tightening the scimitar on her belt. "The elven city. Suldenesselar. That's where they're headed. You might head them off if you travel alone, but you should bring others with you."

"You said it yourself, they'll slow me down." her mouth twisted in irritation. "Do you think me too weak?"

"No... but consider this." Balthazar clasped his hands, eyes narrowed. "The Bhaalspawn you hunt travels with four or five others. They defeated the vampire Bodhi and the mage Irenicus. They killed Sarevok Anchev. They are the greatest threat we have ever faced. If you underestimate them, the outcome will be simple. You will die."

She sneered in response. "We'll see."

X X X X X X

The roaring fire blazed higher and higher, consuming the town and everything within it. Once beautiful homes and lands were scorched earth, brought low by the unyielding fires of war. There had been little resistance- the residents of this town, a village really, were not warriors. They weren't wizards. They were farmers. Peasants. Men and women who lived simple lives, who were taken completely by surprise when the full might of an army descended upon them.

One man burst from his burning home, coughing as he tried desperately to rid his lungs of the massive amounts of smoke he had inhaled. He looked up weakly to see an armored soldier striding straight for him, his blade drawn and ready to strike. His eyes widened as he backed up, raising an arm as if it would ward off the inevitable. He managed to get his breath back moments before his attacker would be within the reach of his blade, choking out a desperate plea.

"No!! Please, I'll do anything, just let me-"

His cry for mercy was cut off as the blade spilled his entrails over the ground, the man collapsing in a pile of his own gore. Hundreds of soldiers rushed onward, trampling underfoot the bodies of so many innocents, all for the sole purpose of finding the one man, the one target whom they sought. Large footsteps, leaving scorched and sizzling earth behind, shook the ground below as a shadowed form marched through the crowded clearing. Everything else around went dark, the sound of wood crackling with embers and collapsing supports echoing all around.

In the middle of it all, a diminutive man, his only remarkable feature being his bright red eyes as he struggled in terror. He looked up at the figure standing before him, regarding him with a snarl of victory. He tried to cry out, but it was a bare squeak, unable to find his courage in front of the army that had burned his whole town, simply to get to him. He finally managed to choke out a plea, "What is it you want?! I never asked for this… please, I've done nothing to anyone!"

The darkened figure snorted with contempt, raising a massive war hammer high above. "Perhaps not. But you are a Bhaalspawn… and for that you must die!!"

Greywulf shot up from his bed abruptly, his eyes wide with fright and body slick with sweat. It took him several moments of panic before realization hit him. He wasn't in a burning village. Wasn't being threatened by an army that was ready to massacre innocents to get to one man. He was in Suldenesselar, sleeping- or at least he had been- in one of the finest rooms that the palace had to offer. It had been almost a week since they'd arrived back from their last visit to Athkatla. Almost a week since the visions had started again. Almost a week since he'd had anything close to a peaceful night's sleep.

Greywulf ran one hand across his face, his bare chest heaving with the vivid dreams. No. Had to calm down, had to still himself before-

"Mmphh…Greywulf? Are you awake- what time is it?"

The muffled, half-conscious tones of Jaheira made a twinge of guilt pass through him as he turned his head to look down at the beautiful form lying beside him beneath the silken covers. She was barely awake- that would change in moments. Her years of adventuring, of watching for danger around every corner and in each morning's sunrise had made her remarkably good at gathering her wits about her once awake; she'd be at full mental capacity in brief seconds. That didn't make it right. She'd been roused by his nightmares and visions for the past three nights. As much as he craved some sort of comfort or company after such a vivid experience, it wasn't fair to her.

Her bright green eyes found his like a searchlight in the dark; they focused on him and he smiled gently in response, wondering how he had ever been lucky enough to find love in the life they led. Hoping to salvage at least one of their nights, Greywulf shook his head gently, whispering quietly. "It's still very late- the sun hasn't even peaked the horizon yet. You go on back to sleep."

She didn't even consider it for a moment, much as he had known she wouldn't. Still, he would've felt like a heel without even asking. "More nightmares?" she asked quietly, drawing the blanket to cover herself as she sat up, brushing one hand through her mussed hair to the side.

"The same as the last few nights." he responded quietly as he turned away from facing her, afraid of what she might see in his eyes. "The same slaughter, the same murders…"

She leaned over to him in sympathy, holding him close. "It is not real… try to forget them. Try to get some rest."

"You know just as well as I that it's not so easy." he sighed, kissing her shoulder as he held her tight. "It's like being here, in this place- it's like my taint won't give me any peace. Like the dreams won't stop unless I'm out there fighting, killing-"

He caught himself, refusing to let himself fall into the well of self-doubt and uncertainty that was so quick to overshadow him lately. "I'm sorry, Jaheira... I shouldn't be troubling either of us with this. This is supposed to be a time of rest for us- a bit of time off from any sort of fighting, helping the city rebuild-"

"As you said... this is not going to let us be." Jaheira sighed in acceptance quietly. "We hear the reports of armies moving across the Sword Coast every time we leave this city. The elves have taken note as well- their demeanor towards you has shifted, and not for the better. It appears our defeat of their Exile was not so great a blessing as they would have had you believe."

"Queen Ellesime is trying do the best thing for her people... with everything they've endured over the past few months, I suppose it's not a surprise." Greywulf said, trying to keep the bitter edge from his voice. "Not that treating us like pariahs will make their lives easier. But I suppose you're right... as always." he glanced to her, exhaling his frustrations with the faintest hint of a smile. "I'll speak with her in the morning, try and see if she can't help me make sense of these visions."

"Very well." Jaheira whispered quietly, falling back to the bed with a hint of longing in her eyes, pulling him with her. "But... that is for the morning. As you say, there are still hours left before the sun rises- I'm sure we can find something to occupy our attention until then."

"I was thinking about getting back to sleep-" Greywulf began, only to get hit in the face with a pillow. "Ok, no sleeping. Hmm… what else is there?"