Lines in the Sand

(10:00 AM)

A gong rang out from the back of the temple's prayer chamber, and the acolytes slowly began to stand and shuffle out of the room. Selena stood with Prelate Saudere off to the side of the room, watching the scene with disconnected interest. She deduced from their earlier conversation that the Prelate's visit was for more than just a routine inspection, but he hadn't been particularly forthcoming with details.

"As you can see, Prelate, our acolytes are subjected to rigorous training and discipline. We all take our duties very seriously here."

"Indeed," admitted Saudere, "I suppose these facilities are adequate; the inspection is passed." He began to walk toward the front of the chamber, past a series of windows. "However, my business in this city is not yet concluded."

Before following, Selena quickly grabbed a curtain rope hanging from the wall and gave it a short tug, drawing the drapes in front of the windows so she wouldn't be able to see the distant ground outside. She then hurried after the Prelate.

"You see," Saudere continued, "I have received word that a fugitive war criminal was sighted a few months ago in the city. Tell me," he paused and glanced over his shoulder, "are you familiar with the Battle of Caden's Hill?"

"Uh, yes sir. I recall learning about it back in –"

"It was one of the worst slaughters to ever occur in the past century. Close to fifty years ago, the Order of Tyr engaged in a war with a small kingdom of heathens occupying a forested area far to the north near Waterdeep."

"And our forces were led by a war-priest, I believe."

"Don't interrupt me, priestess. I fought in that war, you did not." Saudere gave her a short glare, then continued walking to the front of the prayer chamber. "We were commanded by one of the finest knights of the Order. A man who gave his life in the final battle at Caden's Hill, a brilliant leader by the name of Sir Adar Treysen."

Selena froze in her tracks when she heard the name.

"Yes, that's a familiar name to you, is it not? Adar was the grandfather of the paladin that you killed three years ago." Saudere stopped as they approached the marble altar of Tyr at the front of the room. "I was trained by Adar Treysen, and in turn I was the one who trained his grandson many years later."

The elven woman frowned slightly; so that was why Saudere was being so cold toward her. "Sir, I tell no lie when I say that I was acting in self-defense…"

"I care not." To Selena's ears, the Prelate's words lacked conviction. "As I said, I came here to arrest a war criminal, not you. The leader of the heathen forces was a warlord known only as 'Caden the Bloodletter'. The final battle of the war now bears his name; he was the one responsible for the murder of Sir Adar Treysen and countless other men, women, and children… on both sides of the conflict. I witnessed the bloodbath firsthand."

"Sir? I don't understand, why would he kill people on his own –"

"Enough. Speaking of Caden the Bloodletter puts a foul taste upon my lips, and I'll not taint the air with words of his deeds any more than necessary. Needless to say, though we were victorious in the end and successfully apprehended the warlord, he later escaped from captivity while en route to face trial in Waterdeep."

"And you've learned that this warlord is still alive and hiding somewhere in Baldur's Gate?"

Saudere nodded as he kneeled down before the altar, "Yes, and that is why I demanded an inspection of the temple's available weaponry and manpower. Tell me, are your paladins well trained and battle-ready?"

"Of course, Prelate. We have the most capable protectors in the city!"

At that moment, a young acolyte burst into the room, and rushed toward the pair. "Priestess Shademoor, Priestess Shademoor! The temple vault has been robbed, and the guardians were slain! We need you in the temple basement immediately!"

Saudere had his eyes closed and his head low, meditating before the altar. "So, Priestess… 'the most capable protectors in the city'? I wonder if the temple training is as effective as you claim."

Sighing quietly, Selena bowed and excused herself from the Prelate's presence, following the page toward the stairs. Things were becoming more grave by the hour…

(10:07)

"Five more of our thieves were found dead at scattered points throughout the district, lieutenant. All had stab wounds in the chest, and most appeared to have been taken by surprise."

Tomar frowned at the scout's report, then removed his hand from under his chin. "Order half of our reserve assassins to fan out through the district on active alert. If our men are going to die, they'll do so while fighting for the guild."

"But sir," said the scout, "without Lieutenant Kretia's approval, they won't –"

"Lie to them. I'll get her approval afterward, so long as the guild is still standing." Without waiting for another reply from the scout, Tomar moved onto the next order of business. "Has the guildmaster returned yet?"

"Yes sir, he arrived just a few minutes ago, and he's talking to one of the junior scouts outside his office."

"Good. Now be off and carry out your orders." Tomar immediately walked away as the scout gave a hasty salute to the lieutenant's back.

The lieutenant quickly found a dark, quiet alcove in the halls of the guild and reached into his pocket to remove a rolled up ball of cloth. The man slowly, deliberately peeled off the fabric layer by layer, being careful not to make any noise.

As the last piece of cloth came off, Tomar raised the Listening Stone up to his ear and held his breath, trying to hear the muffled voices sent by the stone's counterpart.

"…did you meet with the priestess of Tyr all right?" Through the boy's pocket, Bryn sounded slightly muffled.

Cerdan's voice was even more distant, and Tomar narrowed his eyes to a squint as if he believed it would help him hear. "Yes, thank you for delivering the message. I take it there were no difficulties in getting back safely?"

Tomar sneered. So it was true; the guildmaster was betraying information to the local paladins and clerics. No wonder the elf was so adamantly opposed to fighting them. No wonder he was so intent on reducing the guild's assassins to nothing.

"Well, no. But I did get caught by lieutenant Tomar when I found him snooping around your office."

The lieutenant heard Cerdan let out a snort and what sounded like a chuckle. "Don't worry. I keep all my important information up here." Tomar could almost see the elf pointing at his head, grinning smugly like a fool.

The guildmaster continued, "In any case, you're through for today, Bryn. Grab your stuff and head to one of our safehouses in the south end of the city. Oh, and on the way there, be sure to stop by my house and feed my cat Jinx for me."

"Wait a minute, I can still be of help to you!"

"No you can't, kid," said the elf, "A war is going to break out very soon, and I want you somewhere safe. I made a promise to your father that you'd walk away from this sort of life intact. He'd hunt me down if I failed to do that, and then I'd be forced to rough him up a bit, which wouldn't be very healthy for an old man like him."

"You're five times older than he is!"

"Details, details. This isn't something to argue about. Grab your stuff and take a hike, you're out for the time being." Cerdan's voice became much fainter, and Tomar guessed that the elf was walking away, bringing the conversation to a close.

So Cerdan knew more about the attacks on the guild than he was letting on. Tomar's frown slowly turned into a smirk. From all that he'd heard, he was now convinced that the elf was betraying them to the faithmongers.

Tomar stuffed the Listening Stone back into his pocket, then started toward Seffron's room. No doubt Kretia would still be there, drowning in her tears. But with her help, Tomar was certain they could come up with a strategy to save the guild from their wayward leader.

(10:15)

Cordas watched as the henchmen marched through the mirror portal until all five of them stood before him, leaving a trail of mud on his polished floor. He folded his arms and started tapping his foot. "Well? Have you recovered it?"

"We have it, sir. Just a moment." The sergeant reached through to the other side of the portal, feeling around the surface for some unseen object.

"Hold," said Cordas, "Don't remove the gold circlet just yet. Where are Horance and the ranger?"

The other henchmen, except for Shen, began to mumble and look away. The sergeant swallowed quickly, then removed his hand from the mirror portal and turned to face his employer. "Norris killed the wizard as we were leaving the temple. Don't worry. I left the ranger on the temple floor, but he won't be bothering you again, sir. Not with the poison working through his system."

An eyebrow raised slightly, and the crimelord stopped tapping his foot. "What do you mean by 'on the floor'? You killed him, didn't you? Didn't you?"

"I assumed that since he was dying anyway, it would be better to just let him suffer until –"

"For all your skills," began Cordas, keeping his tone neutral, "I must say you are truly an idiot. Norris knows enough to expose us to the Church of Tyr. Did you even think of that?"

Not knowing what to say, the sergeant reached into his tunic and brought out the iron box from the vault. "Er, we retrieved the artifact you wanted."

The old man snatched the box away from the henchman, but didn't break the harsh glare in his eyes. "You have indeed, and for that you will be granted a second chance. You will return to the Temple of Tyr and either finish off the ranger or bring him back here so I can finish him off for slaying Horance."

Bowing his head low, the sergeant said, "Understood, sir. Let's go, men, we're heading back."

"No. You must do this alone." Cordas said, "I'll not risk the rest of my agents rectifying your own error. You crossed a line and became sloppy, now go deal with the consequences by yourself. And please leave the golden circlet on the portal as you head back."

The sergeant kept his jaws locked and said nothing. Good, thought Cordas, the hound still knows his place.

"Oh, and one other thing." The old man rose from his desk and stepped beside the sergeant, leaning forward to whisper in his ear. "I want you to leave a special message for the knights of Tyr to find…"

The crimelord whispered one final order to the thug, then stepped back and motioned for the sergeant to proceed. After sending one last glance at the rest of the henchmen who were all staring at the floor, the sergeant turned and passed through the mirror, then moved off into the city streets.

Cordas waved to the remaining henchmen and ordered them to leave. As they eagerly filed out of the office, the old man barked a foreign syllable at Shen, prompting the easterner to remain behind.

The old man peeked inside the iron box to check its contents, then placed it down on his desk and began speaking in Shen's native tongue, "I have another task for you to complete as well, before you may go."

Cordas looked over at the open portal that remained in place on the mirror pane. Shen leaned close to hear what the crimelord had to say.

(10:23)

Idiot, Norris thought to himself, How could you possibly let yourself be taken in by another of Cordas' 'promises'? Never trust anyone, especially if you can't be trusted yourself.

The ranger raised his arms and shook the chains in frustration. The clerics were none too pleased when they found him sprawled out in front of the breached vault. At least they were kind enough to remove the paralysis spell from him. Of course, that was after they had him bound and shackled in one of their holding cells.

Norris glanced up as the door opened with a loud creak, and in stepped elven priestess who granted them entry to the tower. Now the question remained as to how much he would tell them.

"You…" Selena whispered as she saw Norris sitting there on the ground, "I should have known that a monster like you would be responsible for this mess."

As much as Norris disliked these religious fanatics, he could see that there wasn't any way out of the cell without cooperating. "The guards who were with me – they set you up. You should be searching for them before they get too far. I have nothing against you or your people." The last bit was a lie, but she didn't need to know that.

"What are you comrades planning to do with the iron box they stole from the vault?"

"I don't know, but it was the main objective of the entire heist. I'm willing to lead you to my employer's hideout, if you'll release me."

She glowered, and it was obvious that she didn't believe him. "Release a villain like you? I think not. This is how it's going to work: You tell me the exact location of your co-conspirators' base, and we'll consider leniency when you go to trial."

"Wait, you don't understand. I have less than a day left to live. If I don't return –"

"Do not try to lead me on, knave." The elven woman backed up a few steps toward the door, "While you were paralyzed, one of our clerics cast a divination spell on you to determine your identity. We know all about your past crimes… ranger."

She folded her arms as she spoke down to him, "And now you plan to flee the moment you set foot outside. Just like the time when you abandoned those five people to die at our old temple. They suffered terribly painful deaths after you just left them here, you know. You never brought back the cure like you claimed, so we couldn't save them."

Fires appeared in his eyes as he jerked his head up at the woman. "Don't you dare speak to me of that as if you know anything, you witch," he snarled, "It wasn't my fault, and I won't hear you try to foist blame upon me!"

"I'm wasting my time here. From what I can see, you're just another criminal trying to save his own black heart." She turned her back to the ranger, "I'm disappointed. I may have been willing to overlook your attempt on my life earlier, but now I see that you really are just another lawbreaking ingrate."

As the woman left the cell, Norris could hear the faint echo of Cordas' voice in his mind. That's your problem… always looking back at what has happened before, but at the expense of the moment.

"I don't care." Norris muttered to himself, trying to keep his mind off the pain from his neck. "Can't believe I almost trusted the hollow promises of these people. Those glory-hound clerics already let me down once before. Never again will I make the mistake of trusting them. Never again."

(10:35)

Kretia was sitting at Seffron's bedside, still holding the unconscious man's hand as Tomar entered the room. She didn't look up as Tomar moved to stand just behind her, as if she feared that doing so would ruin her lover's chance at recovery.

Although Tomar didn't particularly care whether Seffron made a quick recovery or not, he knew that he was going to need as many allies in the guild as possible in order to get Cerdan out of the way.

"Is he going to be alright?" asked Tomar, feigning concern.

Kretia wiped at her eyes and nodded slightly. "The guild healer tells me he should be fine in a few hours."

"That's good. So when are you going to resume control of the guild's assassins?"

"I don't know if I'm up to it. Maybe I should just step back and leave it to Cerdan. He's proven himself a trustworthy enough leader over the years."

Bristling with contempt, Tomar stepped in front of the woman and grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her grip on Seffron's hand. "The guildmaster is not as reliable as you think. I've learned that he was just now at a meeting with an official from the Church of Tyr."

Kretia looked startled, but she managed to stand, meeting Tomar's eyes. In an icy voice she said, "What are you speaking of?"

"The recent attacks on Seffron and the other members of our guild have been too well organized to be random strikes. Someone has been feeding information to our enemies, and I think Cerdan knows about it."

"You shouldn't be saying this. It is treasonous to openly conspire against our guildmaster, and –"

"It is treason to betray guild information to the bloody preachers!" Tomar shot back, "Who do you think leaked the whereabouts of your… meeting with Seffron this morning? Tell me this, who else besides you and Seffron knew about your little rendezvous?"

"…Cerdan. He knows everyone's movements."

Tomar let go of her shoulders and calmed down a little. "Ask yourself if you want to strike back at the people responsible for this," he said with a gesture toward Seffron. "Very soon, the lines in the sand will become boundaries. Make sure you and Seffron are on the right side."

With that, Tomar walked out of the room, leaving Kretia to stew in her thoughts. Things were finally beginning to take shape, and he knew that there was only one person in the entire guildhouse fit to seize Cerdan's position.

(10:43)

Up in the Tower of Tyr, a young acolyte was trying to lug a heavy bucket of soap and water through the hallways of the priests' quarters. Villet's arms felt like they were ready to tear apart at the bone, which might have been a welcome relief from his seemingly endless list of tiring chores.

"I hate this stupid place," he mumbled out loud, "No glory, no fun, and no sleep. Always 'go wash the windows, Villet' or 'go scrub the floors, Villet' or 'don't put a rat in my soup, Villet'. Wish I was out fishing."

He stopped as he noticed a door in the hall that had been unusually left wide open. Glancing up at the nameplate, he realized it was priestess Shademoor's room. "Stupid pointy-eared trainer." Peeking inside, he saw that the woman was gone, but heard an angry buzzing noise coming from somewhere within.

Other than the noise, the sheer stench of the room was what overwhelmed his senses, prompting a grumble from Villet as he realized he would have to clean up whatever mess the priestess had left behind for him.

He stepped inside, dragging the bucket behind him. The acolyte quickly found that both the smell and the sound were emanating from the ewer of disgusting flowers sitting atop her desk, making him wonder why elves always seemed to have the strangest taste in décor.

Puzzled by the sounds he was hearing, the boy lifted up a bunch of flowers by the stems to see what was making the noise. He pulled the damp paper wrapping away and a small pouch fell into the water. Peering closely, Villet saw that the side of the wet bag was ready to fall apart, and that there was something inside the pouch that was writhing around.

Before he could step back, the ewer tipped over and the wet pouch split open, spilling hundreds of tiny, vibrating golden beads out onto the desk.

Villet watched with rapt attention as the many beads, now fully exposed to the air, began to crack and hiss. After a few moments, a small winged insect popped out of one of the beads. The acolyte jumped away and saw that it looked like a shiny, gold-coloured bee. He watched in surprise as it zipped out the open door, as if repulsed by something in the room.

Immediately, a second golden bug hatched from one of the beads and flew out the door as well. Then more followed, and the flying insects began to come out in swarms, each one driven away from the room by the horrid stench of the stinkbloom flowers.

Screaming as the swarm zipped past his face, Villet threw an arm up over his eyes and ran from the room, knocking his bucket of soap and water all over the floor.

Paying no attention to the panicked acolyte, the golden bugs began spreading out in all directions as soon as they reached the hallway. Each individual insect carried the slight odour of stinkbloom, and was thus driven outward like a golden cloud, seeking refuge from the offensive stench.

(10:49)

Prelate Saudere was still kneeling before the altar of Tyr, deep in meditation. None of the clerics had been bold enough to enter the room while he was present, so he had the rare benefit of being able to pray in complete solitude.

The priestess can't be trusted, but she will be key to my main investigation, Saudere mused. Before I can investigate her criminal ties, I must apprehend Caden the Bloodletter. But to do so, I may require divine assistance.

For a moment, he considered whether he should petition for intervening aid from Tyr. Perhaps it would be best to do so, as Saudere feared that some of the local paladins and clerics would place more faith in one of their own priestesses than their foreign superior.

Before he could think further on the subject, he heard a loud buzzing sound and something suddenly stung him in the back of the neck.

The High Prelate immediately leaped to his feet and smacked at the back of his neck, squashing whatever pest had attacked him. Wiping his neck off, he then brushed the filth from his hands, sending the golden insect remains to the floor.

As he gazed down at the insect's crushed gold-coloured wings, it reminded him of the crushed form of Adar Treysen's golden armour, so many years ago when the paladin fell at Caden's Hill. Saudere's hand clenched into a fist. Caden the Bloodletter was hiding somewhere in the shadows of Baldur's Gate, and the High Prelate would stop at nothing until the war criminal was dragged out into the light and executed for his crimes.

Yes, Saudere knew that he would need divine assistance for his mission in order to find the elusive criminal. He would never again let Caden slip through his fingers. The Prelate kneeled at the altar once more and chanting softly, praying for Tyr to send aid.

All the evil in this accursed city would be ferreted out and destroyed, and Prelate Saudere was prepared to pay any price to see this justice through.

(10:54)

Sitting upon the ocean's edge, among the craggy islands just offshore from the city mainland, stood one of the most unforgiving prisons of Baldur's Gate: Lancam's Isle.

Of all the places of incarceration, this one held the dubious honour of having the highest prisoner mortality rate in the city. In truth, it wasn't a place of imprisonment; it was a place that 'commuted' death sentence prisoners were sent to die slowly.

Tavros snorted as he took in his surroundings. The place didn't look that tough to him. In fact, as he stood at the front desk, he noted that the reception area seemed inordinately clean for such a supposed deathtrap. He looked over at the two henchmen that Cordas assigned to him and saw that they were similarly unimpressed.

"Ahem," said the guard at the desk, glancing over Tavros' company with a bored look. "Do you need something, sirs?"

Tavros drew a scroll from a bag at his side and placed it on the desk. "One of your prisoners has been granted a full pardon by one of the Dukes of Baldur's Gate. We are here to… escort him back to the mainland."

Unrolling the parchment, the guard gave the official orders a quick look before reaching over and smacking a small hammer against a brass bell fixed to the wall. "Just wait there, sirs, and we'll retrieve the prisoner for you."

The two henchmen behind Tavros began fidgeting uncomfortably, but their leader simply nodded and waited patiently. After a few moments, another guard arrived from down the hall.

The desk guard put the scroll down and said, "Time to make a trip up to Red level. Looks like one of the lifers got himself a release." He stood up and the guards started down the hall. "And get this: it's the Black Viper."

The second guard's eyes widened, but Tavros couldn't make out the man's response as they moved further away down the corridor.

Tavros turned his head as one of his henchmen tapped him on the shoulder. "Out of curiosity, sir, how come Cordas got his hands on such a real-looking set of orders?"

"Because it is a real set of orders, straight from the Duke's office."

"Wh – but why would a Duke want to help Cord –"

Turning away, Tavros silenced the goon with an annoyed grunt. In truth, he didn't actually know how the orders were acquired, only that they were completely genuine. Perhaps Cordas had some ranking bureaucrat in his pocket.

Regardless, all that mattered to Tavros was getting the information they needed from the prisoner. After that, the ex-con was a peripheral concern. And if the prisoner became trouble, well, Tavros was confident that his three-to-one odds would support him in the end.

Besides, what serious problems could one shackled prisoner possibly cause?

(11:00 AM)