eeeeeeere's the second chapter!

And yes, I "borrowed" the title from LotR. Don't sue, J.R.R! Or rather, don't sue, Christopher! I'm just a lowly follower of THE fantasy saga. Nothing more.

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Chapter II: Twilight and Shadow

X X X X X

"Or are you not the dreamer who cut through darkness with a sword that sang of blood and victory?"

- Gann-of-Dreams

X X X X X

There was some kind of commotion in the corridor. Among the several voices, he recognized the one of the matron and could just about make out two others, also female.

Hathrans, likely, though they sounded nothing like the three witches that had sentenced him to this little prison. Not that he was ungrateful for that now – aside from having a free room to stay in, when the spirit army would finally choose to enter the city, he would be far safer where he was now than those outside. That was plain bad luck for them, but he didn't dwell too much on thoughts of pity. Knowing the Rashemi, their stubbornness wouldn't have permitted them to even accept pity from him, which was entirely their loss.

His little prison had also been subject to certain refurnishing – as there was little else to do to kill time there, Gann had decided to play a bit with the wards the witch matron had so clumsily inscribed there to keep him and his powers at bay. A weak attempt at best, of course, but that took no fun out of the job.

The door that sealed him away from the world was a thick one, but he could just about make out the tone of the voices, suggesting that whatever the newly arrived women were saying wasn't met with particular enthusiasm. Knowing the hathrans, it probably subjected some kind of terror no man would willingly subject himself to in exchange for a fickle thing as freedom.

They would get the response they deserved, of course, if they wished to attempt to match wits with him.

Finally, it seemed that the proceedings with his two co-prisoners were finished. But the matron witch was clearly hesitant to allow the newcomers into his cell so easily. My, either they were ethrans only (which he doubted) or the matron was actually somewhat jealous. That meant that they were either respected or more attractive than her. In her case, it didn't speak much, unfortunately.

As the slightly older-sounding woman attempted to reason with the witch matron that no one could tell if it was an effort wasted unless they tried it first, the other one took matters into her own hands. The small rectangular space in his door that was usually sealed unless someone wanted to speak to the prisoner was suddenly open, revealing three solid iron bars marring the view of the outside world and two brilliant green eyes behind them.

For less than a split second, Gann was caught off-guard. Then, he arrived to the logical conclusion that the person behind the door wasn't entirely human or human at all.

"Prisoner, I would speak with you for a moment." The female voice that announced that from the other side of the door lacked the condescending commanding nature of a hathran, but it was both steely and soft, like a stream of cold water that one could gradually get used to. Even its melody matched such a description.

It was somewhat pleasing to be addressed with some respect, though it would take more than a good opening sentence to sway him.

The hagspawn faked boredom – not a difficult thing to do when there was truly little to do aside from listening to the chatter or spirits at this time of the day. And their dreams were somewhat repetitive nowadays, unnerving, even.

"Ah, more jailers come to rattle my cage? Here I was, settling into a relaxing dream, now you've gone and spoiled it." He spoke with surprising nonchalance for a prisoner; more like a king disturbed in the middle of his afternoon rest.

A mild frown creased the brow framing the eyes behind the door, but only for a moment. "I am not your jailer… but I might be your benefactor." The woman spoke seriously, carefully and, most important of all, honestly.

When living in the wild or near Rashemen, one learned to appreciate those who could use the correct words, especially since this country was so sadly lacking in such people. And that someone he still supposed had to be a hathran – for who else would have access to the prison of the witches? – could parry even his initial strike with a smooth reply was, well, intriguing.

Equally so as it was annoying to speak with the door between them. However, he understood this first exchange to be a test whether or not the woman should waste her time here. Gann decided that it was worth listening to whatever proposal she may have, just in case it had something to do with the uproar of spirits… and to see how well she could withstand his true abilities.

"Ah, honeyed words from the other side of the cage. And what tune must I sing in return, I wonder?"

"Songs of freedom, perhaps, if you care to listen to my offer."

If the eyes hadn't been watching him intently, Gann would have smiled. A quick wit was a rarity these days. Though it was an improbable outcome, he was actually hoping now that his entertaining guest wasn't a hathran. In any case, she didn't seem to be masked, but through the cage, one could hardly see well.

"Whatever wards and locks bind this prison, I think clever words are the key to unlocking them. Go on, I am listening to your offer… my "benefactor"." The word sounded somewhat strange when he voiced it, but it was a game two could play.

"I'll take that as an invitation."

"No good will come of consorting with the deceiver, foreigner!" The green eyes vanished for a moment as the woman turned her head. Obviously, she had made a move for the lock on his door and the matron-of-the-cell was the one to call out in what only seemed to be a well-meant warning.

But foreigner… now that was an interesting, especially as the little guest made no more to make any kind of biting reply to the matron or to ask for the key to the door.

Instead, the muttered a few unintelligible words and a small greenish light sprang into the door. The lock had been undone with a faint jolt of arcane magic. The door opened, revealing the interior of the prison, the faraway figure of the scowling masked matron with another, taller woman with a wooden staff moving towards the one who opened the door with her cantrip.

The woman who stepped in wasn't a hathran; he could tell that at first glance.

The most obvious hint was that she was wearing no feather-laced mask, but that would have been a great waste in her case, as her face was in no way plain, like that of Kazimika had been. Her most striking feature were her jewel-like eyes, quite in contrast with her sharp but appealing face. She was dressed strangely, like a foreigner would probably be, because no one in Rashemen was extravagant enough to wear more than two colors at a time, heaven forbid. But her deep green robe was laced with gold and a multitude of colors that somehow didn't end up clashing and ruining the effect of a rainbow.

The little cantrip she had used had been but a taste of her ability. She radiated magic.

Now, that alone was reason enough to be on his toes. Nothing good ever came of consorting with women with arcane abilities, as they were horrid if they tended to hold grudges. Moreover, he was always reminded of his past and heritage when around such females. Of course the magic of hags was profoundly different from that or the practitioners of the arcane, as it is in-born, awoken, not learned through trials and training.

The only thing that separated them in the eyes of the casual observer, however, was their outward appearance. Hags were at least two heads taller than a human, with twisted and overlarge features, the image of antagonists from a child's fairytales.

But because of this woman, he almost didn't notice the second one that entered behind her, though the latter was obviously more beautiful in the generally accepted sense of the word. Tall, willowy and fair-faced, she had magic of her own up her coarse sleeves and Gann took note of the mild tattoo between her eyes and how her head was deliberately covered by a dark hood. Her disguise wasn't as full-proof as she might have liked, but credit had to be given to the fact that her loveliness was sufficient to distract anyone not aware of this unless they looked for it.

The other one wasn't human, but Gann could only tell that she was of elven blood. The only elves he had encountered before were those living in the forests, the wild elves and possibly a wood elf or two. This one differed from them… almost akin to the way in which he himself differed from humans. Her skin was bronzed despite the cold winds raging outside, her hair pale, as if she had stayed in the sun for far too long.

Defying all expectations once more, the elf's eyes immediately strayed to the wards around his prison. She traced them with her hand hovering half an inch above the markings themselves.

"What kind of wards are those?" the human woman with the staff inquired, though it was unclear who her question was meant for.

"Oh, those? I hadn't noticed. Did some child come by with a handful of chalk and scrawl them there?" Gann asked idly, watching the elf woman, who had yet not introduced herself – rude, really, being a guest and all – rise again to her unimpressive height.

It stung a bit that she had been so keenly focused on the wards before turning her attention to him, Gann decided, but she gave him a half-curious, half-impressed look with just the slightest touch of suspicion.

"I admit I'm impressed by the sheer skill it took to alter these scribbles from the inside." she said finally, her voice somewhat flat. But it was a compliment born out of surprise, and those often contained the most honesty. Moreover, she realized that and didn't hesitate to use such a method.

It also showed that her own skill in spellcraft was not superficial, but why prematurely ruin so wonderful a game? "Your sugary arrows may be well aimed, but I hope you do not suspect me of altering them, dear benefactor. I have an alibi."

This time, her lips twitched in the slightest of smiles. She seemed to have understood that an introduction was in order, especially as she had oh-so-rudely ignored that fact before. "Of that, I have little doubt. My name is Neliel Imladris and this is Safiya." she said, gesturing towards the human woman, who nodded in acknowledgement. They didn't ask for his name, probably having found out the list of convicts from the matron already.

"What crime have you been jailed for?" It was an ill-phrased question from the human woman, Safiya, who spoke in a much more matter-of-fact tone than her companion. Everything about her radiated a scholarly aura and the few markings her disguise didn't manage to conceal were the final warning Gann required to shift his general interest away from this woman.

There were limits to boldness, in any case.

"My crime?" Gann sighed; indeed, he was a major threat to society – especially one where a caste of women ruled. Why, given enough time and idleness, he could have enthralled two thirds of the local wychlaran, at least, and what a shift in the power balance that would be. "It is a serious one – you see, I am too handsome to look upon. It would not be the first time I have had to place myself behind bars to keep admirers at bay." Safiya blinked, obviously wondering if this was a jest of some sort, but Gann's eyes sought the elf woman, Neliel. "If that's why you're here, you'll have to wait in line like the rest, I'm afraid." he said somewhat blithely.

Not that he would blame her if she didn't recover from such a comment. Assuming both of them were wizards – and, considering that Neliel still had her hair, not both of the same school – it was likely that she had spent day and night locked in some tower divining potion methods from the stars. Not necessarily a bad way to go through life, but certainly not one that would bring her too many chances to speak to many men that qualified as young and handsome without some academic reason.

However, to some disappointment and some delight on Gann's part, Neliel raised her eyebrows just a little, enough to say that she was struggling, but would restrain herself from tackling him on the spot through some otherworldly willpower.

"So it was your charm and your wit that got you jailed, then." she noted with a bit of mocking that never even grazed the edge of impertinence. This one was no amateur, though perhaps mere chance had brought her to his cell.

"Ah, a little bite to the usual banter, with just a dash of sarcasm. The fair matron spoke truly, then – you must be a foreigner. The folk of Mulsantir has no sense of humor whatsoever."

"I've had the chance to see that much." Neliel muttered rather darkly, quite in contrast with her previous demeanor. Apparently, the witches were welcoming to everyone who was new to town, especially if they stood out from the average crowd. "Meaning that you yourself are clearly not of this city either. I suppose I feel somewhat better now."

"Now, isn't it a bit discourteous to praise the famed Rashemi hospitality without experiencing it?" Happiness at the misfortune of others. How quaint.

"But I have experienced it, first-hand in fact." And thus she laid out her plan and her plight – certainly not the call of a damsel in distress, judging by the polished sword hanging from her belt – a scheme to go out and meet the spirit army.

Bold. Suicidal, for certain, but bold, brave, courageous and all such synonyms.

Yet for a moment, he saw a strong resolution to live within the eyes of the foreigner, an unprecedented desire… no.

No, it wasn't unprecedented. He had seen such a will once before, in a dream, a vision… and now he was no longer seeing through the eyes of a distant dreamer, but rather, facing the one who had braved oblivion herself. Intriguing that this one should be set into his path. Interesting indeed.

"So, entertain me, brave one." Gann challenged, leaning against the wall behind him and folding his arms. He was actually looking forward to what this little wizard could name as her reason. After all, wizards were overconfident by nature, so it was likely that she hadn't even considered that her offer of freedom for such a hopeless fight could be refused. Certainly her companion froze somewhat. "Why would one such as I follow you into such a hopeless battle?"

The hooded wizard, Safiya, looked at her companion in a way that suggested that she was considering that it might be a better idea to leave things be. The army was after them, so they didn't have to justify their course of action in any way. However, he was removed from those events thus far and to become involved only for the sake of freeing himself of the prison he was in wasn't much of an offer.

She was new to bargaining with those not easily convinced, obviously, because she couldn't employ the methods she was used to, her strengths.

But the elf frowned somewhat, thinking just for a second or two and likely not about what to say – only how to word it correctly. That was always the greatest challenge, to display confidence without sounding patronizing or condescending. Yet she obviously had at least some skill in wheedling information out of people and convincing them to see things her way, because even her tone of voice was modulated carefully enough to suggest certainty, but not overconfidence.

"Because in all the time I've been here, you haven't asked me to leave, and I think there's a reason." she said firmly, looking the hagspawn right in the eyes without blinking as she waited for his next move.

It was an impressive feat and a charming display of charisma at that. Certainly more than anyone else in this dull city would be able to offer. In any case, there was indeed a reason, though Gann was careful not to voice it just yet – the dreams. The intriguing visions from a faraway land, taking shape and voice of light and shadow. There was some mystery at play here, almost like one of the secrets of the spirits he had striven to learn ever since he could remember.

"Careful, or they'll throw you in here for being charming and well-spoken too…" It was too much of a compliment, by Gann's standards, so he decided to dull the shock somewhat. The age-old rule of compliments was to comment on a beautiful woman's intelligence and an intelligent one's beauty. Finding both in one was a very rare occurrence, though even he could freely admit that the elf was appealing, if not a little cold in appearance. "Even if you aren't quite was beautiful as I am."

In particular, the way her eyes seemed bright and sharp at times when things were going exactly as she wanted and how they seemed to cloud over when she frowned. It was thoroughly different from what a human girl might seem like, but it didn't necessarily reveal her thoughts. Currently, she had replaced a doubting frown for a milder expression, but credit had to be given to the fact that she didn't overreact.

While some women might have interpreted his words as a compliment, others would have considered it an insult. She seemed to be somewhere in the middle.

"Somehow, I'll try to manage to survive that dreadful blow to my psyche." Neliel said, emphasizing the adjective. He had expected as much. Wizards hardly cared too much for appearances, those that traveled around perhaps even less so, but she wasn't entirely displeased with his words.

Gann wasn't eager to admit it, but he was actually considering the proposal, considering changing his suggestion that she would do better in a poorhouse. He was becoming more certain with each moment that this was the dreamer whose most primal thoughts he had had a chance to briefly glimpse. And such a rich dream couldn't only be sampled and relinquished. Such dreams had to be examined and savored, not cast aside, even if the price could turn out to be severe.

"I admit – both your presence and your request intrigue me. Slightly." The words went out of him with difficulty, but Gann hadn't survived for this long by laying all of his cards on the table. Unless the expectations he had created with such strange abruptness for his peculiar visitor would be surpassed once more, he doubted much would come of this. "But that's a slight more than most."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Neliel said, without thanking him. She was a great contrast when compared to most of the women in Rashemen; neither cold and untrusting, as she had brought her plan to a complete stranger, nor naïve and easy to impress, as she was hardly reduced to pieces by words that would have brought another an emotional breakdown, at least. For such a frail-looking creature, she also had a remarkably general-like aura when she willed it to be so. "A slight compliment." she emphasized, so that not even a deaf person would have missed it.

Finally, Gann allowed himself the privilege of chuckling slightly at her determination to win this verbal duel. During their brief chat, he had managed to take note of the new-looking sword that the wizard, only barely hidden behind the folds of her robe. Obviously, she wasn't pleased with the treatment of visitors here and thus didn't bother concealing it. It seemed that she was serious in her attempt to defeat the spirit army and the bear king waiting outside, though whether or not she could actually do it was a completely different story.

Still, something told him that the time her dreams would dwell in dull Mulsantir were limited and he had merely touched the surface of a deep ocean, not even sending a ripple through the waters with conscious contact. Such an act would not do, especially as the dreamer seemed to be spun of a similar silk as he himself was, with her well-spoken witticism and appealing face.

"An excellent rebuttal. I think this bodes well for our travels."

Safiya, who hadn't said a word ever since commenting on the wards, looked most surprised to see events unfold precisely contrary to what she had been expecting. Neliel, for her part, seemed to relax somewhat upon hearing the word our, though the travels part confused her somewhat. She hadn't been expecting loyalty beyond the battle, clearly, even though she knew little now of the price for it.

"Very well; you have a willing soldier at your side – shall we be off? And please, let us visit the witch warden on the way out, so I can pay my respects to her gentle, loving soul." Gann noted with an air of casual indifference, now that they weren't talking of serious things. Really, such a one-of-a-kind opportunity couldn't be ignored, especially as he sensed that while the dreams of Neliel would be captivating, they would hardly be amusing or revolving around him.

"Of course." the elf said, nodding, leading the way out of the cell in a very captain-like manner.

Safiya spared the hagspawn a half-suspicious, half-curious glance on the way out, which he met with a simple condescending smile. They shared no trust initially, compared to their first encounters with Neliel, where the natural wariness of strangers they both had had evaporated in a most peculiar fashion. But in a wordless agreement, they reached a truce without even trying to do so, leaving the inevitable conversation in which they would question each other's motives regarding following Neliel at their leisure.

For now, they had a common goal that they could only reach by teaming up; protecting something they immediately recognized as different and therefore precious.

X X X X X

"So what other unlikely place will we search for allies?" Safiya asked from her corner of the table. After catching a few spies in Shadow Mulsantir and confronting their leader, they were having a well-deserved rest.

It was a regular day at the Sloop – an inn, for lack of better word, for travelers and sailors in Mulsantir. Not the most reputable place in the world, especially considering the company that one could find there, and the lack of an actual good tavern. It had been almost two days since they had entered the so-called great city of Rashemen. Ever since that moment, their numbers had doubled, not that it was saying much, as four people, no matter how diverse and powerful in their own right, stood little chance against a never-ending supply of spirits that the army outside had.

Thus Neliel had reasoned that after a trip to the Shadow Plane, no matter how short, all of them needed spirits of their own, meaning a touch of alcohol to get them back on their feet. Their latest ally drank little of wine or any such liquors, in the true ascetic fashion of a cleric. Kaelyn the Dove was a peculiar creature, truly living up to her namesake in terms of appearance, with her black eyes and short white hair, matching the color of the feathers of her wings. Soft-spoken and thoroughly melancholic no matter what her mood, there was also something in her that unsettled all of her companions.

In the case of Safiya, it was simply her distrust of people of faith. And Kaelyn was a living embodiment of the teachings of her god of suffering, Ilmater, ever martyring herself for the sake of others. She had even rejected the aid of her own siblings when Neliel had brought her back to them as a way of gaining their aid against the spirit army. Safiya didn't really understand what the elf had been thinking when she had consented to release the two celestials from their oath, but it had obviously satisfied Kaelyn greatly.

"From my experience, allies are only found in the unlikeliest of places." Neliel noted when she finished sipping her wine. It was bitter, like Rashemen itself, it seemed, but after having her strength almost drained, it felt like heavenly liquor. "It's those that you encounter at likely spots that you should watch out for."

She actually had a good reason for refusing Efrem the Stag and Susah the Crow at the last moment; several reasons, in fact. The first and most obvious was that after their brief time together, Kaelyn had obviously deemed their little sojourn worthy of her company, which was somewhat of a relief for her. As a cleric, the half-celestial had healing powers of a degree that none of them did. Certainly Gann could also heal any of them – as he had tone once or twice before they had entered the Dead God's Vault in the shadowy reflection of Mulsantir – but his powers were better spent elsewhere, in her opinion.

The spirit shaman, too, was somewhat of a problem, though thankfully not of the kind Kaelyn was. Neliel simply couldn't decide to what degree she should trust his intentions, assuming he knew them himself. His mask of casual indifference had slipped very blatantly when Kaelyn had told him very clearly and directly what she could see from simply looking at him, proving to the others that her sight in such things was sharp and that Gann certainly hadn't thought that anyone could tell how much of his surface behavior was affected and what he truly thought.

It was fair to say that the two of them were complete opposites in every sense of the word and would likely never have traveled together if not for the circumstances. Whereas Gann deflected any such truths with a whirlwind of empty words so that no one could see whether he was actually afraid of the priestess or not, Kaelyn sympathized with what she called his suffering yet remained gentle in her pity.

The second reason was that the two other members of the Menagerie, as they called themselves, were obviously weaker than their sister and would no doubt rush to uselessly defend her should she be injured in combat, proving more hindrance than advantage. The helmet and threat Efrem had both offered her before leaving was sufficient proof.

The third and final reason was that, in some way, Kaelyn was a painful reminder of Elanee, with her genuine concern for the suffering and wide-eyed naïveté and of Casavir, with her belief in goodness and willingness to sacrifice herself for others. Often, in these two past days, Neliel thought of her companions of so long. What had become of them? Had they survived? Some had likely inevitably shared the fate of the foolish, Qara, in this case, but some had to have survived.

Certainly Khelgar was too thickheaded to allow some rock to best him, Neeshka too quick, and Ammon Jerro would no doubt wrestle his way out of the Hells themselves once more just to be certain of his enemy's demise.

But even if they lived, they were hundreds of miles away…

"Are you all right, Neliel?" Kaelyn's black eyes, with their ever-present pity, almost made her wince. Safiya noticed it, but made no comment.

"I'm fine." the elf said quickly. "Just got lost in thought."

She was most glad for Safiya's interjection. "Judging by the way our little group is broadening, I would guess you've had ample experience in the matter."

And it was true. The Red Wizard had actually marveled at how quickly the tired and scholarly elf had morphed into a commanding persona skilled in leadership. Moreover, she had been astonished at just how many things Neliel carried with her. They had been forced to change clothing before entering Mulsantir and though Safiya had her own disguise ready, knowing they would be going into a city hostile to her people, Neliel was still clad in the blood-drenched blue tunic she had won in the barrow.

Fortunately, they had come upon a merchant's wagon stuck in the deep mud before ever reaching the city and the elf had gotten the chance to purchase new clothing, for which Safiya paid, despite her companion's protests that she didn't need to. The gold was from her mother for this journey anyway, so Safiya cared little, and so they had both entered the town dressed as peasants, though Neliel refused to shed her greaves and chain shirt worn underneath the blue tunic.

It had proven a wise decision upon encountering some visitors from the Academy of Shapers and Binders where they were supposed to find Lienna.

"I suppose you could say that." Neliel noted, shrugging.

After their encounter with the witches at the theater, Neliel had finally gotten the chance to change properly and Safiya saw that in what she supposed were mere pouches on the elf's belt were actually Bags of Holding, containing sufficient equipment for a medium-sized adventuring troupe. Neliel had shed her armor at last, saying this was likely the last time anyone would get past the witches now that they knew of the intrusions. Just as she had worn a clearly western-styled wizard's robe, she now wore light armor of fine leather, enough to protect her but not enough to hamper her magic.

All that she had been forced to purchase was a new weapon, as the enchanted sword Safiya had made had been damaged in their battle at the Veil. And though she had clothing, potions and magical trinkets aplenty, Neliel lacked good weaponry, besides the dagger she still had. Safiya had yet to ask about that particular object and she was hoping to be able to gain that information in trade for what her mother had told her.

She found Neliel interesting, both because she had never had the chance to travel far and wide herself and because there seemed to be a history behind all these skills of hers, as a common adventurer would hardly be able to achieve what she did.

The more she thought of this, the more she regretted that Lienna had died before being able to give either of them information regarding what was happening. That way, perhaps even the whole mess with the witches and Okku could have been avoided.

"I think there are enough of us now to manage to keep the army occupied while you do what you must, Neliel." Kaelyn noted somberly. She herself had only ordered water, much to the surprise and dismay of the barkeep. Though she hadn't been a complete angel in terms of behaving in accordance with the beliefs of Mount Celestia, she remained as ascetic as ever.

"Okay." Neliel agreed, finishing her glass before leaning forward on her chair somewhat. "I might be speaking out of turn in this, but I think we should plan a strategy now, while we have the time. I don't think it would be best to shout instructions at each other while facing off an army."

"My thoughts exactly. Rushing in and attacking head-on would be about as wise as going out there unarmed." Safiya commented before returning to her own glass. She had never actually pondered military strategy herself too much and in the barrow, she and Neliel were able to make their way through simply because they split their duties between the two of them.

"What do you suggest, then?" Kaelyn asked mildly, readjusting her new shield to its sitting place at the foot of the table, as it was about to fall down. Neliel had given all of them some new equipment to better tackle the issue of the spirit army and prepare for whatever they would encounter along the way. She had also sold some of the things they had deemed generally unnecessary, though she had had sufficient gold to outfit them all even before that.

It was one of the things that Kaelyn was curious about, as she was of what made the otherwise confident and powerful wizard often avert her eyes whenever they locked glances.

"We are all spellcasters of a sort, but our skill with other weaponry varies. I think it would be best if we paired up based on that, so that two could press the front lines while two remain behind and focus on ranged attacks. Of course, I'm going into the front." Neliel noted with a grim but determined expression.

She didn't seem too frightened by the prospect of an army awaiting her at the gates of the city and Safiya recalled that she had noted in the barrow that the last time she hurt this much, an army of undead was involved, when asked if she was all right. "Okku came here for me and I doubt his armies will pay anyone else much attention unless attacked first."

"I will go with you." Kaelyn noted with a nod. Of course the two of them would take the front; Safiya, while a strong spellcaster, could barely swing her staff enough to hurt anyone much and Gann refrained from joining in close combat in any case – besides, his skills lied mostly in his archery, which was actually good for them as a group. "You will need a strong shield arm when in the midst of spirits and carrying a shield yourself would hinder your casting."

Again, Neliel averted her eyes while speaking. Kaelyn didn't really understand why, as her words could hardly be the reason, yet something in her seemed to unsettle the elf. She was somewhat sorry for that, knowing a good person when she saw one.

"Thank you."

"So that means that I should stay behind with Gann?" Safiya asked with a mild frown. Not that she had anything against the idea, per see, but she wasn't completely sure about her own aim at a toe-to-toe battle where her allies would likely be surrounded.

"Yes, and summon something to fend off any stray telthors that come after you." Neliel fished out several scrolls from one of her Bags of Holding, ever-present in her pouches, and a wand of summoning. She also handed a wand or two to Kaelyn, just in case.

"Conjuration isn't my strong suit…" Safiya mumbled, but took the Wand of Summoning with gratitude. Transmutation was her specialty, but such spells were not always meant for combat. There was strength in numbers and Conjuration could aid there greatly. Neliel could use such spells, but her strength would be better spent in the more offensive-oriented Evocation, which seemed to come to her more naturally than any other school.

"Where has Gann wandered off to?" Kaelyn was looking around.

The spirit shaman had been oddly silent ever since they had left the Shadow Plane, perhaps because they had only been speaking of plans for the next day, all of which revolved around what was to come. But she was certain that he had entered right behind her, especially as he had been oddly courteous in helping her deal with those drunk thespians whose words she hardly understood, though Safiya had looked irritated and Neliel had subtly tapped the hilt of her new sword.

Afterwards, they had sat down and the three women had assumed that he would remain somewhere close by. Each had their own private theory, but Safiya didn't really think Gann would be desperate enough to try his bag of tricks on the few women that were present in the tavern.

Of course, that female half-orc bouncer had given him an odd look, so you never knew…

"Outside, I suppose." Neliel suggested, rising from her chair without missing a beat. She apparently took this as somewhat of a personal responsibility. And she took her sword, just in case. "I'll go check. Wait for us here."

The moment she left the table, an uncomfortable silence fell. Safiya contented herself to finishing her drink as slowly as possibly, then going off to order another one. Kaelyn simply wondered whether it was the will of the gods that those who suffered so were to meet and share the same path.

X X X X X

Strangely, when Nell managed to locate Gann outside – as she had thought – he was alone, standing near the docks and apparently somewhat lost in thought. That he was alone was almost surprising. She could have sworn that every female – and a few male – customers of the tavern hadn't been at all ignorant to his presence in the main hall of the Sloop.

Truth to be told, she could say with a clear conscience that the hagspawn didn't live up to the namesake of his race at all; contrary to what people assumed hags looked like – tall, gangly creatures with twisted and cruel faces, feasting on human flesh and throwing away only the bones of their devoured lovers – Gann was completely human-looking, save for the color of his skin and hair, which resembled that of the sky half an hour before dawn or so. And, of course, once one got used to the strange differentiation in skin tones, it was very easy to admit that Gann was also exceptionally handsome.

Not that he didn't like to remind everyone of that fact every five minutes or so with a few well-placed words that had already reduced a poor girl or two to putty when they had been at the marketplace, selling off some of the less useful stuff they had gathered. It was especially effective on shopkeepers and even Safiya was actually impressed by that. Of course, she was partly relieved that Gann had also made it clear that he wasn't interested in her when some spurned suitor of the shopkeeper had asked him if he truly was so bold as to say such things to another woman when his wife was nearby.

Neliel had bravely put on a straight face then, for the sake of the cordial relationship she had developed with the Red Wizard over a short period of time, because otherwise, she would have likely started laughing right then and there, especially because Safiya was a little pink in the face, though mostly from shock and anger – especially since Gann had deigned it of importance to soften the blow by commenting on her "softly flowing curves" before expressing his disinterest in her.

The elf, of course, took note of the fact that a brief glance had been sent her way back then, and that no disinterest in her had been expressed. She didn't mind, but she also didn't care too much. After her recent and abrupt experiences with men, she didn't care for such relationships much. The reason she liked Gann was perhaps not as shallow as that of the women that flocked to him, but it wasn't too deep either – he was amusing to converse with. That alone was reason enough for her to like him; she had had sufficient training in verbal battle after months of lewd comments from Bishop and arguing over magic and training with Sand.

She didn't even want to go to the topic of golems and Wendersnaven, along with a certain gnome.

But somehow, she missed them all, no matter what bitterness – or betrayal! – lay between them now. She deliberately bit into her tongue slightly. Now was not the time to think of that.

It turned out that Gann was actually sorting out his arrows. No matter how bad the Sloop was, weapons weren't encouraged there and all of them were allowed to keep theirs only because of the heavily toned down fireball Neliel had caused to materialize in her hand when a more drunken sailor tried to approach her before he could even speak. All of her new companions now had new weaponry, even her – the longsword Sivlem she had purchased at the marketplace.

She was somewhat sad about this turn of events. The blade of Gith was gone and Neliel was left to wonder if whoever had brought her here had also taken the sword for some reason. Moreover, she still felt very strange. The shard in her chest was gone, which meant that one major threat to her life had disappeared, but she had somehow grown to depend on it, as she had on the sword.

It was a part of her, and had always been. Now…

"Hoping to attract an army of admirers to back us up?" She folded her arms behind her back as she walked up to Gann, who didn't seem too startled to notice her there. The docks were far from empty, but it was obvious that everyone around had no reason to approach two strange foreigners – both of which were well-armed.

Gann gave a weary smile and a sigh that was clearly to signify how much of a martyrdom this was and that she should be entirely grateful for it. At least it seemed to be in good fun and never went past the line between amusing and annoying.

"That wouldn't do much good, I think. Unless they would be banshees whose screams would hurt the spirits. But you can do that, too, I believe, from what you showed on the Shadow Plane." Necromancy wasn't Neliel's favorite school, but it was one of those things that worked very well against undead.

To fight fire with fire, one had to fight undead with death magic.

But Nell noticed that Gann had returned his attention back to the arrows, which was most peculiar. It was hard to tell with his purplish skin, but she would have guessed that he looked a little ill. The last time he had looked that way was when they had first left the prison and he had noticed the full impact of the army's power.

Back then, he had seemed to have a great headache. Now, he looked as if he had the mother of all migraines.

It was no wonder that he had left the noisy tavern in favor of the quieter docks.

Neliel didn't really understand the resident spirits. They weren't undead in the sense of the word she was used to facing. It was the most logical reason for why her need to have Gann with her on this and fully capable of utilizing his powers.

She was also used to speaking to her allies before battles – though she wasn't the leader of their little group in the sense she had been when branded as the kalach-cha by the githyanki raiders, it was made apparent once more that it was she who was the binding link of the three others. Thus she had the best chance of helping here.

"You look as if you've been on the wrong end of a Bombardment spell." Neliel noted plainly, coming a bit closer and leaning against the railings next to Gann.

Probably not the best beginning for a conversation, but then again, there was no sense in beating around the bush. Moreover, she was concerned for his well-being simply because she couldn't imagine what it might be like for one in tune with the spirits. Probably like when Zeearie had been trying to rip the shard out of her chest by force. "Are the spirits still troubling you?"

"I have hardly thought there would come a day when I would have to fight against the spirits of this land, that is all." Just as she was aware of the fact that it was a blatant attempt to shoo the question away, Gann was conscious of having failed miserably at fooling her this time. He wasn't fishing for pity or anything of the sort. It had been his decision, after all; but the risk of it all was so much clearer out of the cell.

Momentarily, he glanced at Neliel, who was staring at her boots, wondering if he should hope this would be worth it.

Finally, finding nothing interesting about her shoes, the elf took a deep breath. "At the risk of sounding foolishly noble, you don't have to do this." She said it slowly, but she wasn't convinced about it. It was, as she said, a foolishly noble sentiment. In other words, a merciful if blatant lie to both of them.

But Gann didn't take the opportunity to spin the situation in his favor. Running away like that simply wasn't his style. Besides, the petite wizard continued to surprise him with her foreign manners, most of all her kindness, for it was just that. No more, no less.

And Gann marveled at it as he wouldn't have done even if all of the pantheons of gods from all the planes would have materialized in front of him in that very moment.

"What, and leave a damsel in distress to fend for herself against an army? That would hardly be very courteous of me, would it now?" Then again, there was no call to show that much to his charming companion, lest his own charm spell start to fade. That would have been the epitome of failure, even if Neliel was proving to be remarkably resistant to his ability to bedazzle.

She didn't even crack the slightest smile when he flashed her one of his own to back those words up.

"I've done so before." she said instead, with grim undertones. "But I can hardly claim to understand the spirits of Rashemen too much. I've never been this far away from the Sword Coast." While Neverwinter was considered a great distance from her birthplace, it was right next door compared to the hundreds of miles that lay between that land and Rashemen. In fact, if they didn't speak Common, the Rashemi would have been completely unintelligible to her.

"It seems that mystery shrouds your every step." Gann said, conjuring up quite an air of mystery into his own voice. With a sphinx-like smile, the spirit shaman leaned against the railings himself, though he made no obvious move to itch towards the elf. "Should I be jealous?"

Neliel scoffed somewhat. "You've still got the looks and admirers, which restores the balance, I think. All I have is a quest given to me by unfortunate circumstances, yet again."

Yet again… perhaps the dream was somehow related to this, or vice-versa. They had traded bits of background already, but only as much as was enough for nothing too drastic to be revealed. Still, it was more than one would say to a complete stranger. For instance, Safiya knew less than half of what Neliel had told Gann about her origins.

"I see that your little tale isn't limited to snippets of information about the place where you were born." the hagspawn noted in an unsubtle attempt to prod her into telling more.

The dream had interested him sufficiently to inquire more fervently than he usually would. Night was falling quickly, but Gann found himself a little impatient in wanting to explore the vision once more. The shape of light had been Neliel, certainly, but that shadow… and the flame in her hands, shaped like a sword…

She had reacted strangely to that mosaic in the Vault some hours ago, saying something about the Sword of Gith. The name was unfamiliar to him and Gann hoped to find out more. After all, what else could tell the truth about a person if not their dreams, where lies were inexistent and the truth even the dreamer themselves concealed from the world and their consciousness was revealed?

"Perhaps so." Neliel admitted, but refused to budge this time. The story was a long one and not at all relevant to the events that were to take place in a matter of hours. Besides, the wounds were fresh and she hadn't yet coped with the new freedom from her duties as shard-bearer and captain of a keep… and the possible demise of the ones closest to her that had accompanied her on such a lengthy journey.

Still… no keep to manage, no Kana spewing reports at her whatever chance she got, no complaints about discipline too strict… no undead banging on her door at two in the morning – wait, scratch that - no Ancient Evil to destroy…

Apart from the army waiting at the gates and the searing pain she had woken up to, things were looking up for her. It had been months since she hadn't dreamt of shadows devouring her whenever she thought she had gotten over that particular nightmare. She was hoping to deal with this army, find out who had brought her to Rashemen and for what purpose and then…

Then…

Return to Neverwinter? Become the front-line soldier once more? Finally live the dream she and Amie had shared – to be traveling scholars and eventually settle in Candlekeep for a while?

Go back to the ruins of… no. She had no reason to return there.

But perhaps she could stay and travel the lands of Rashemen for a time, wonderfully forgotten for the time being, alone or perhaps with the few companions she had managed to gather. That would be nice.

"But that is a tale for another time." she concluded, sealing the matter for the time being.

Gann didn't press her. Such things couldn't be confided to just about anyone and a day of knowing one another and a few well-played conversations weren't nearly enough to build up sufficient trust. Besides, he sort of enjoyed the mystery and the anticipation. And words often couldn't convey the meaning that dreams showed plainly.

"There are some battles that we choose and some that choose us. This is one of the latter, I believe; and you have chosen me, have you not?" he noted wisely, more so than Neliel would have expected from him. "I should hope that the day has not yet come that a beautiful woman would chase me from her side without even sampling a single dream." Then again, he was still being himself in essence.

"I've never had good dreams." Neliel mused. Either she dreamed of magic or of death. Mostly it was a mix of both. "Only nightmares. Mostly of destruction and death."

"And shadow." Gann added softly, looking at her intently this time.

Predictably, she gave a somewhat startled reaction. "Pardon?"

"Or are you not the dreamer who cut through darkness with a sword that sang of blood and victory?" Gann continued, watching as for a moment, the sun elf's complexion reached the shade of a normal human. She hadn't realized or noticed that someone had entered her dream. But it was her, without a doubt, who had dreamed of the light and shadow.

"I… I didn't realize… when…? How?" she asked shakily. It was the first time her voice had broken in such a way and perhaps she was wondering just how much of her dreams had been seen – or which dream he meant. Not to mention that she had no idea how he had come to know that.

"Ah, so even our ever-well-spoken fearless leader can be rendered speechless?" Gann was satisfied and it showed in his bright smile. Their conversations had been a draw, but this was a small victory for him, not that it truly mattered in the broader sense of things. "I shall have to remember that. I saw your dream shine through the mist of plainness that engulfs Mulsantir." he explained when Neliel continued to look perplexed. "And when the spirits came, I supposed that only something that was uncommon in this land could have attracted them."

"So you weren't jesting about the relaxing dream back in the prison, were you?" Neliel asked, finally relaxing somewhat.

"One must laugh to keep from crying, no? Besides, I doubt tears would enhance my appearance much, wouldn't you say?"

"I'd need a demonstration, though I don't think anything short of facial mutilation could bring you to tears."

They were straying from the point of their conversation, but it mattered very little. "Cruel temptress, you sting my heart." the hagspawn mocked, smiling still.

Neliel merely shook her head before dismissing her own response before even making an effort to voice it. "Aren't you coming inside?" she asked instead. "Safiya is being a little edgy and Kaelyn's experience with taverns amounts to minus million. I don't want to leave the alone for too long."

Gann raised an eyebrow. Both Safiya and their little songbird were formidable in their own right, but neither was to his tastes simply because neither could reflect his words in the manner Neliel could. Also, out of the three of them, the elf was the only one who wasn't tied to something in a way that couldn't be breached, be it heritage or a nation.

"I'm touched by your concern, though I wonder why you would need my presence for such an endeavor."

Neliel was, simply put, the most accomplished fighter of all of them. It showed clearly in the way she had dealt with their enemies previously and how she was able to coordinate her movements with the rest of them, even though she knew little of how they might fight.

"Drunk sailors don't know when to leave a woman alone even if she can disintegrate them." Neliel noted smartly, matter-of-factly. "But they'll scatter if you're there simply because you're male."

"Very much so." Gann agreed with an expression that most women, if capable of coherent thought by that point, would describe as a highly successful attempt at charming suaveness, moving a bit closer to the elf and facing her fully this time.

"Quite." Neliel noted with a deadpan face, jaded when it came to the way a male mind worked when it thought it was being flattered. After the things one overheard at Crossroad Keep, it would take ten times this charm to move her, even if she found herself trying not to smile. "You obviously think in a very male manner."

"Such fire in your words, they burn me." Gann retorted, retreating somewhat as if to demonstrate the fact of the matter. He was very clearly having fun with this banter, which surprised even him. It was such a change from his usual conversations.

"Would you like me to throw you off the docks?" Neliel asked helpfully, the smile finally slipping. But in this case, it was hardly a hindrance. "Perhaps that would help."

"It would certainly be a shallow cover for your plot to rid me of my clothing, oh wise wizardess." The shaman gave her a mock-bow, a fire of mischief dancing in his eyes. He was wondering how much more she would be able to handle before reacting in an angry manner, but that limit hadn't been reached yet.

Instead, Neliel only folded her arms in a defensive gesture. "Stick to the farm girls if you must have your daily dose of attempts at suaveness."

"I thought I was speaking to one, actually." Gann said on a more serious note, earning himself a puzzled frown. Evidently, she didn't remember saying that she had been a farmer. "You said that you hail from a small village bordering the Sword Coast, no? It is from that that I assume you to be a farmer originally."

But if he believed that this would back her into a catch twenty-two, then he was mistaken. Instead of fuming, Neliel promptly corrected that misinformation.

"Unfortunately for your sharp memory, my foster father is… was… a ranger, not a farmer."

"Was?" She hadn't mentioned whether he was alive or not before and Gann decided to take the chance to ask her.

"I have no way of knowing whether he still lives or not." the elf said simply. She didn't endeavor to explain why, but Gann could guess that it had something to do with that shadow upon her dream. Her visions were of death and despair and hope that stemmed from such things. Hope and will. Something horrible had happened to this one and she had survived it, emerging stronger from the challenge. "I care less than I should; he wouldn't have appreciated emotionality over this."

They were more alike than he had imagined. Gann wasn't certain whether to resent that fact or to be strangely grateful for finding someone that had the potential to be much more than a momentary amusement.

"So the full story behind your sharp wit is told." he teased instead of speaking his true thoughts or prodding deeper into the matter.

"Hardly." Neliel scoffed once more, then frowned a bit. "But couldn't you read that much from my dreams?"

It was a difficult thing to admit for Gann, but there were limits even to his powers. And the dream had been so overpowering, so consuming that he had barely had the energy to absorb what was going on in front of him, let alone to read through it as one would with an open book.

"Your dreams are… different." he admitted slowly, the smile vanishing from his face for a moment, replaced by an expression of slight unease. But the charming mask was back in place within a moment's notice. "However, if that counts as an invitation…"

"I doubt you needed one."

"…then I will gladly see more, for the sake of curiosity and my own amusement." Gann finished, unfazed. Should they survive the morrow, he certainly had to find out more about this perfectly broken doll. He was resolved to follow her until he knew the meaning behind her dreams and understood why a creature that seemed so resilient outwardly could be hunted by her own subconscious self.

Until then, even if it took years, he would observe and learn, for there was truth to be found in this woman. Truth of a kind he couldn't identify, but knew was necessary to learn.

"We'll see." Neliel said vaguely, as if she had forgotten what she had told him, which counted as a confession for her. Nevertheless, the hour was growing late and she wasn't yet used to the colder Rashemi climate. If Gann wasn't coming yet, fine with her. She needed a glass of warm wine again. "Just try not to accost some poor girl again. I'd hate to have two angry monsters to fight tomorrow." she said as she returned into the tavern.

The shaman watched her until she disappeared from view. Interesting, that.

Some streets away, Kazimika Vadoi was burning with rage and agony in her home, upon learning from the matron of the prison just who had agreed to take the foreigner's side. She had disliked the woman immediately, but she also acknowledged her beauty. Beauty greater than her own. Power greater than her own, though she would never, ever say such a thing. Hatred and jealousy mingled and raged within her. But, above all, it was her own helplessness with the matter. And she loathed herself for even caring.

Meanwhile, back at the Sloop, Gann returned just in time to see a few drunken sailors by some miracle of the non-existent gods identify Safiya as a Thayan and start a brawl, no matter what death glare Neliel gave them or how large the mace Kaelyn was holding was. In about five minutes, it was over, and thanks to another death glare courtesy of Neliel, they didn't have to pay for the damage… though it became increasingly obvious that they would be spending the night at the Veil.