I uploaded the second half of the comic I was doing for Kaispan on my Deviant art account. Warning: You need an account, as it I had to give it a mature rating.

Flashbacks: Tallix, Jaheira, and Khalid reach Waterdeep!

...


Stress

...


[Still 20 years ago...]

Waterdeep was a purty city. Sprawled out on the ocean and cuddled up cozy along a mountain, it was like a splendid empress decked in gemstones. And her twin, the Undermountain, was a slimy, sensual, and winking gorgon twined about the empress' feet! But the best part of the city was by far the trees. The streets were lined with oaks that spread their boughs up over the houses. Truly, it did an old assassin's heart good to see so many 'sneaky death-by-pouncing-halfling' perches.

Tallix Snapdragon wasn't around many streets at the moment, but she was enjoying a comfortable spot in a tree all the same just a short way up the side of Mount Waterdeep, with the ocean glimmering out blue, when she spotted the Harper duo coming up the path.

Khelben Blackstaff Aurunsun was an interesting choice of informant. The man was one of the only male Chosens of Mystra, one of the leaders of the Harper organization, and the only Lord of Waterdeep whose identity was widely known. He was definitely a big potato, and though he had played a role in forming Gorion's Bhaalspawn-hunting adventuring troupe, he would have been the last man Tallix would have suspected of knowing anything.

First of all, Tallix knew something the Harper duo did not: Gorion was alive and had vanished from Harper sights on purpose, whilst cradling a damned godchild to his breast. Khelben was the least likely person Gorion would turn to for help; hell, the archmage had put Gorion on his Spawn-killing path in the first place!

Secondly, men like Gorion were small to men like Khelben Arunsun. A Chosen had only so much time and energy; he could not worry about everyone who went missing on him.

Or so Tallix would have presumed.

But then Ole Blackstaff had immediately granted Khalid and Jaheira an audience at his tower; and that was a clue, whether any of the involved Harpers realized it or not. It suggested several things to Tallix immediately:

One: Blackstaff and Gorion must have been well-acquainted.
Two: Blackstaff had not merely recruited Gorion to deal with the Bhaalspawn; he had entrusted Gorion with the task.
Three: Blackstaff did know something, and either he planned to tell them what it was or else he planned to dissuade them from their search.

As Khalid and Jaheira approached the tower, Tallix drew out a small makeup box made of stained pine. She opened it gently to reveal the small interior mirror, the powder brush, and the well of dull, red pigment at it's base. "Beggin' pardon to all involved parties," she said quietly to herself, a grin worming over her face as she loaded the brush with powder, "but I've a need for eyes where there ain't be any windows." She held the brush upright, placed her hand in front of it, and blew softly over the bristles.

The red powder bloomed into the air, swirling about in ovoid shapes and long wisps. The fine granules combined rapidly with one another and formed larger shapes, until it was clear that the powder must have been made from the crushed shells of insects. Momentarily, a large and dull red beetle had been blown gently into Tallix's palm. It crawled curiously about her fingers. She gave it a little kiss.

"Tag the Harpers," she told it. "And keep yer head low, lest this voyage be yer last."

The beetle spread out its gauzy wings and then lifted into the air. It caught sight of the Harpers coming down Swords Street, and then dropped low into the foliage to make secret its approach. Tallix waited until it disappeared and then leaned back in her tree and folded the music box open flat. Through the mirror, she could see what the beetle saw.

The beetle reached the two Harpers, covering close to the ground. It however near Jaheira at first and then, seeing that she lacked armor and might possibly feel the impact of its landing, it turned to Khalid. It thudded silently into the back of his armored shin guard, scrabbled for a hold on the straps, and then quietly climbed to find itself a more secretive perch.

Tallix crossed her fingers.

In the back of her head, a voice warned: 'You're makin a gamble, sendin eyes into the domain of an archmagus without first doing proper homework.'

But another voice, in the front of her head, laughed: 'Lived long enough; gettin bored.'

...


"Jaheira," Khelben sighed apologetically, "I cannot support this endeavor you wish to undertake. If Gorion yet lives- and I have not dismissed that possibility as you've assumed- then he is beyond our reach and quite possibly does not want to be found."

"Arunsun, you must have some clue or some hint about what happened to him!" she protested. "Whether you support our endeavor or not, will you at least share what you know?"

Khelben narrowed his eyes thoughtfully but then looked up at her face almost sternly. "I was his mentor, Jaheira. Do you believe I gave up on him swiftly, or came to my conclusions without evidence? Do you not think I asked these questions and more, or scryed to find him for months? I have counseled my outsiders and combed the lands we last saw him in; I have worked my spells and tagged my contacts and gone a number of sleepless nights; yet I have found nothing. What do you hope to find?"

Jaheira swallowed and then lifted her head high. "You have been evasive even in giving us closure, Arunsun. You have told us nothing about where he was or what he had involved himself in before his disappearance; nor what happened the night he disappeared."

"Gorion would not want you wasting your lives hiking across the Faerun looking for him in a thousand places we have already checked-"

"Pardon, Archmagus, but you first deny me closure and then presume to instruct me in how to grieve? I am not a child you need to protect, nor does your unsaid knowledge of events somehow make my heart lighter."

Khelben leaned on his staff and contemplated her. He had never particularly liked Jaheira from the time she'd been a young girl: the woman had a forceful disposition, an insensitive sarcasm, and a vexing tendency to always be right- even when she was wrong- that made one feel guilty in refusing her.

But she was arguably Gorion's best and eldest friend. While he had been an apprentice, the half elf druidling had routinely made the journey from the High Forest- often alone, or by foot- to come into Waterdeep and see the budding mage. Khelben remembered the gawkish girl of many years past, standing in his atrium and demanding to be allowed to see her friend.

Now she and Khalid were the only two of Gorion's friends whom he hadn't been able to dissuade from looking for him.

"Jaheira," Khelben sighed. "Gorion's adventures were taking chunks out of his spirit. The people who were with him could all see he needed rest. But he pushed forward, wanting to make amends for his mistakes- and in the end, it seems he did. He disappeared after a final assault on a Shadow Plane fortress, a battle in which- thanks to his actions- we were completely successful.

"After checking my bases and ensuring he was neither captured by the enemy nor in the Shadow Plane, I came to the conclusion he is both unharmed and does not want to be found. He walked away from the battle, threw up abjurations, and vanished. Intentionally."

Jaheira stared at him silently for a very long moment. "You led us to believe he had died," she uttered in a low voice.

"Which was easier to swallow: that he was gone; or that he deliberately walked out on everyone who loved him, as a shell of a man who had shut out his eldest friends?" Khelben asked quietly.

"You... you..."

"Aside from which, the conversation is moot. I assure you, Jaheira, I have absolutely no idea where you might even begin looking for G-"

"Khelben!" came a shout as the door to the parlor burst open and a gray-robed and silver-haired harper barged inside. An infant was screaming, and the loud noise drew everyone's attention. "I need to ask you for a fav-"

Jaheira's lips parted. Khalid's face lost all expression and he tilted his head to the side. He looked at Gorion. Then he looked at the shrieking blonde thing at Gorion's shoulder.

Baby?

Khelben continued without missing a step: "Gorion, perfect timing! Lady Jaheira was just asking after you."

Gorion had gone absolutely still, his face blank and his eyes wide. "Oh." That was all he managed to say. He and Jaheira stared at one another, nearly unblinking.

"Why don't you come in and have some roasted chicory?" the Archmagus continued as if everything was normal, departing Jaheira's side to fetch the drinks in question...

Still outside of the tower, Tallix Snapdragon straightened, her eyes widening. Then she bust out laughing so hard it nearly knocked her clear out of the tree. She dropped the makeup box on her lap, covered her face, threw her head back, kicked her feet, grabbed her side, and basically just laughed and laughed and laughed.

Khelben Blackstaff Arunsun had just earned himself a spot on Tallix Snapdragon's 'favorite old people in Faerun' list.

...


[Present]

When the tale of the Zhentarim's gruesome assault had been told, Xan clearly felt no better for having spoken of the event aloud. By then Branwen was tired and needed to have a seat, so she asked for the elf to help her back to her room. No doubt she intended to try and calm him down once they had some privacy.

Dynaheir and Khalid shared a grave look as they walked away, each concerned for Aegis. "I think we should remain here with Branwen," Dynaheir said at last. Khalid nodded and opened his mouth to said something, but he was abruptly interrupted by Minsc's exceptionally loud:

"The strange chattering wizard has betrayed us!?" The ranger frowned intensely and grasped his chin. "Well! Boo and I would not say we are surprised... He is a very queer little fellow... But when Pretzels joined our valiant group, we had such high hopes!" He dropped his arms and heaved an enormous sigh. "Boo is incredibly disappointed."

For a moment, Dynaheir wasn't sure what to say to that. Then a smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. As addled as Minsc might have seemed at times, his gentleness and enthusiasm more than made up for it. After a moment, she reached up to pat his shoulder reassuringly. "As we are all, in some measure," Dynaheir agreed.

Minsc perked up slightly at the contact. Then he smiled a little and thumped one of his fists against the other hand's open palm. "Well maybe a distraction is needed! Do you think craft time might help take Boo's mind off of things?" the beserker mused hopefully.

Dynaheir, who had not at all been pleased to meet Boo on first acquaintance, had long since come to see the tiny hamster as part of their little Rashemi family. She reached up to pet the allegedly flustered creature. "I think that sounds like an excellent use of nervous energy," she agreed.

Minsc stared at the witch meaningfully.

The big man appeared to be waiting for something, but for the life of her Dynaheir couldn't figure out what. She blinked uncertainly up at him.

The ranger coughed and then in a shy voice suggested: "Well... Maybe... maybe the feisty one would like to join in crafts time, too?"

The Wychlaran chuckled. "That is very thoughtful of thee, Minsc. But I think not at this time."

Minsc straightened dramatically, his face screwing up in confusion and dismay. He looked briefly to Boo and then he heaved a great, shrugging sigh. "No, of course not Boo, you are not the only one with this 'nervous energy.' But what is Minsc to say to the feisty one about it? Minsc is good with swords, not words!"

Dynaheir jumped slightly, surprised by her companion.

Minsc furrowed his brow and cocked his head to the side as if listening. "Boo says... Boo says that words are exactly the same as swords... But without an 's'? Hmm... Well, Minsc does not understand what that means, and usually he leaves the spelling and the spells to his witch. But Minsc supposes this is important and so he is willing to give it a try!"

The big man composed himself and then spun about and shook a finger at Dynaheir. "If the feisty one will not take care of herself, then that is Minsc's job to fix! Boo strongly advises Minsc's witch to reconsider crafts time, before her brain becomes as floppy as boysenberry jelly and as prickly as a cactus! There! How was that?"

And that was how Khalid ended up sitting with the two Rashemi, watching them knit a winter onesie and hat for a miniature giant space hamster.

"Knit one, then purl two," the beserker explained, for of course all relevant knitting supplies had been his, and it did not appear Dynaheir had worked with yarn more than once in her life. "See how it curves? Perfect!"

Khalid smiled to himself briefly, but then his thoughts went out to Aegis, to Imoen, and to his wife. The prayed all of them were alright...

As fate would have it, a call went up far across the temple at exactly that moment, and his delicate ears picked up words about adventurers and bandit captives. Khalid perked up, looking towards the faint and distant sounds of commotion. "I-I heard something. I think they m-might be back-!" he exclaimed excitedly.

...


Jaheira was at the front of the atrium, not far from the fountain, and she was talking rapidly with one of Kelddath's Sirines. She had a very grim and serious expression on her face, and she looked to be worried about something. Behind her, leaning against pillars and receiving attention from the acolytes, were about two-dozen battered looking men and women.

Khalid could not have contained his excitement if he'd wanted to. "J-jaheira!" he exclaimed his wife's name, and then she'd been tackled out from before the Sirine and gone stumbling a good three feet to the side. Khalid fastened his arms about her middle and lifted her up to her toes with a laugh.

"W-we are n-not supposed to b-be separated, y-you know!" he chastised her joyfully.

"Khalid!" she laughed, her worries momentarily forgotten as she hugged her husband about the neck. Then they kissed, and deeply, for all that it was usually not their habit to display romantic affection in such a public space.

There hadn't been much time for celebrating a job well done yet for either of them.

"Boo! Look! Grumbly druid lady is back!"

Seeing that Jaheira was busy, and wanting to give the couple a moment alone, Dynaheir stepped out into the crowd. She was still exhausted, but Minsc was right: her nervous energy could not change anything, and Edwin's death had been unavoidable. But there remained one person- an innocent- who had cared for him; and Dynaheir had to face her eventually.

Dynaheir stepped forward through the crowd, looking for a sign of their party thief. She tried to imagine what she would say to Imoen. She couldn't apologize, exactly; but she was sorry the grim way in which everything had needed to end.

Dynaheir rounded a pillar and paused. There, amid the many relieved and huddled forms, was a plucky, disheveled, pink-haired girl with black leather armor and poofed sleeves. She looked unharmed. She looked okay.

...


"Imoen..." Dynaheir breathed in relief, her shoulders slumping with the weight of the last few days. The witch scarcely know what to think or feel, as surely the girl must have hated her; but Imoen was safe, and that was one that had gone right.

Imoen twisted about at the sound of her name. She caught sight of Dynaheir and her eyes widened in surprise. "Dyn!" she exclaimed, sounding surprised and worried. "You're here? Were you hurt?!"

The Wychlaran hesitated for a moment, searching the thief's face. She saw neither hostility nor grief. "I...I'm unharmed," Dynaheir replied heavily, stepping forward to reach the girl. "And thou, Imoen? Art thou... okay?"

"I'm fine!" the thief chirped. "Hey, but look, I'm only here for a sec. Now that all these poor sods are safe, I just really want to talk to my sis!"

Dynaheir took a deep breath and nodded. "Imoen, Aegis was attacked this morning."

Imoen tensed, her eyes widening as the Wychlaran came up before her. "What!? Where, how, why, when?! Is she okay!?"

"Xan conveys she is fine, and that she is resting in Beregost as we speak."

"Well don't leave me hanging!" The girl exclaimed, grasping the Wychlaran's shoulders and shaking her slightly. "What the fruit happened!?"

Fruit? Imoen was in an unexpectedly giddy mood. Dynaheir wondered if it was a mask. Either way, the witch lamented the possibility of bringing her mood crashing down."She was very nearly sacrificed to Cyric. Xzar was involved... he was helping them," explained as tactfully as she knew how.

Imoen released her shoulders and leaned backwards, stunned and confused. Xzar is a creepy evil wizard whose weirdo infatuation with my big sister makes about as much sense as a kraakan romancing a sphynx; but honestly the two are strangely cute together! And Imoen was pretty sure the relationship between 'Xzar' and 'Cyrites' involved rabbit stew! "Well that doesn't make any sense at all!" the thief protested after a moment, dismayed.

Dynaheir shook her head unknowingly. She agreed the tale was odd but, truth be told, all she could think about at the moment was a certain Red Wizard's torture story. She felt nearly as nauseous about the whole thing as Xan.

Red Wizards were the last thing on Imoen's mind, despite the fact that she had been extremely fortunate to have left Edwin at the entryway to the temple. All she could think about was Xzar telling her never to leave Aegis' flank. He wasn't just babbling half-crazy advice. He was warning me? She thought of the necromancer's extraordinarily pedantic and carefully detailed spellbook.

Imoen's face drained of color, and her back straightened as an epiphany rocked her: Wait. What if nothing he ever says is genuine nonsense? What if it's just too nuanced to make sense of most times? What if I went back and looked at everything I've ever heard him say, and presumed that it made sense?

Dynaheir continued after a moment: "Xan was distressed to the point he could barely speak, and I am to understand the details were terribly gruesome. Xzar is being held for questioning while Aegis recovers."

"Wow. Wow, wow, wow, wow, wow." Imoen dragged the fingers of both hands through her hair, her face pale. "Well... well, is she at the Juggler? I've got to see her; if she was hurt I've done gotta be there when she wakes-!"

Imoen cut off mid-sentence as she recognized a red shape that slipped into view not far behind the Wychlaran. For a split second she wondered if she ought to be concerned! Then she remembered he couldn't cast without being heard, and she was certain Edwin would not be so stupid as to assault someone with a knife in a temple to Lathander. What are you...?

Then the Red Wizard stepped closer, crossed his arms behind his back, and leaned over almost playfully near to the Wychlaran.

Oh no. Imoen's entire face drew into a disbelieving grimace as she realized Edwin had once again mistaken a power play for a demonstration of benevolence and was about to do something incredibly, incredibly stupid.

If he survived, she was going to enroll him in etiquette lessons.

Dynaheir blinked, startled by Imoen's expression. The girl looked like someone bracing to witness a disaster they were powerless to stop. The witch was just about to take a look behind herself, when a low and distinctly Thayvian voice rose up beside her ear.

"Stab," Edwin intoned. "You're dead."

...


The intermingled shrieks and intonations of Draconic, not to mention the thunderous crackles and clamor of metal, drew the attention of almost everyone.

"EDWIN!" they heard Imoen belt her disapproval over the crowd. "By all the gods! If she doesn't kill you, I WILL!"

Minsc spun about and drew out his sword in alarm, shouting: "Evil's afoot!? Fiesty One! Minsc and Boo are coming for you! YaaaaaAAAAAAAHHHH!"

"That red fool!" Jaheira snarled, releasing her startled husband and hiking up her quarterstaff. Then an enraged ranger went flying past her, screaming his fury aloud to the heavens, and Jaheira tried to figure out what the odds were that Minsc would chop the Red Wizard in half vertically as opposed to laterally.

If it was the former they'd finally be rid of Edwin. But if it was the latter, Jaheira had no doubt Edwin would survive the shock of bisection just to spite them all; and that Imoen would somehow manage to reattach the man's legs to his torso just in time for him to lecture them all for being ungrateful.

As if Edwin needed any more reason to bitch.

Bah!

Some distance away, Edwin counterspelled yet another static shock, and deflected the wild slash of the Wychlaran's knife as he stepped around her. Dynaheir was moving sluggishly, he noticed, and for some reason it appeared she hadn't slept recently.

Well he had no pity for her; not in the face of her hostility! Had he not just demonstrated his restraint? That he was capable of harming her but had declined to do so? Even now he refrained from casting anything, or from exploiting her clumsiness hand-to-hand! Edwin felt like spitting on the two-faced pagan, and he thought to enjoy taunting her longer, but he could hear the wrathful shout of an angry berserker and then Imoen's fingers grabbed hold of his sleeve.

"Get away from her, you stupid dragon!" the thief shouted, tugging at him. "Move!"

"Agreed," he muttered in realization, letting his apprentice pull him backwards from the fight.

Unfortunately, Dynaheir shrieked her way into a lengthier incantation as soon as he'd stepped back.

Edwin's lip curled in disbelief and his eyes narrowed in frustration as he recognized she was about to fire a Lightning Bolt. He snarled out the opening worlds for a Minor Globe of Invulnerability: "Bild nol sahlag lah-!"

"Stop! Both of you!" Imoen exclaimed, elbowing herself between the feuding wizards. Her presence- thank Oghma!- brought them both up short. Dynaheir cut off the tail end of her spell, though the half-formed lightning bolt lingered as a veil of energy about her arms.

Edwin also bit down on the last syllable of his Globe as well, and not a second too late. His eyes searched the Wychlaran's unmoving pose as static crackled about her shoulders and fingers. She's holding it, he realized in alarm. She could still throw it faster than I could create another Globe of Invulnerability from the start. The unfinished abjuration surged between his fingertips, threatening to burst apart, as he tried to wrestle the half-woven spell into a stable state. Invulnerability spells were not long lasting, and he had a feeling he still might need this one.

Kossuth! Abjuration wasn't his specialty school. And Dynaheir was hardly his only problem! As Edwin struggled to get the uncast spell under control, another big issue suddenly reared it's head: "Evil meet Sword!" Minsc bellowed, charging out of the crowd. "Sword, MEET-!"

Help came from an unexpected source: A rush of green energy bloomed in fractals over the ground, and then the temple cobble crackled as green vines burst up all around them. The plants grappled hold of Dynaheir's skirts and spun up one of Edwin's legs, and they entangled Minsc so abruptly that the ranger charged face-first into the ground with a muffled yelp and a hamster squeak.

"Enough!" Jaheira shouted, striding forward with her staff in hand and a commanding glare for all of them. "This is a place of healing and all of you should be ashamed!"

Edwin sneered, as neither he nor Imoen had attacked anyone; but he dare not say anything for risk of losing his spell. Dynaheir was not so silent and, as the electricity writhed about her hands, she shouted: "How doest thou yet breathe!?" at him.

Seeing as Imoen was between the two of them and Dynaheir could hardly discharge the Lightning Bolt under such conditions, the Red Wizard nearly gave up on his Globe in frustration so he could shout at the frustrating witch. But when Edwin looked up at her and saw Dynaheir holding her spell in its uncast state, even whilst deprived of sleep, the issue became a matter of pride. He grit his teeth and redoubled his efforts, sweat beading at his brow as his nails twitched subtly through the weave.

"I saved him," Imoen took responsibility instead, standing upon the writhing vines as if they were no hindrance whatsoever, while Minsc pushed himself up to his elbows and looked up at her in confusion and jealousy.

"Imoen-!" Dynaheir spat.

"He's not even attacking anyone!" the thief flailed in exasperation. Behind her, Edwin successfully subjugated the Globe.

Unfortunately that was the moment an elf enchanter, on hearing the sounds of battle, finally reached the center of the atrium and pushed his way through the crowd. "Dynaheir?" Xan began. "Jaheira! What is-?" He came up short as he reached them (he no doubt had been much too short to see what was happening past the heads and shoulders of others), and his eyes flew open wide. The elf pointed accusingly past Imoen. "What is THAT doing here!?" he demanded in a shrill voice.

At the sound of Xan's voice, Edwin bust out laughing with startling force and volume. The impulse was so sudden that it nearly bent him double, and it startled each and every person present. For a moment, speech continued to be beyond him. Then, as Imoen peered worriedly back at him, he waved a dismissive hand and shook his head past painful grins. "Both of them!" he wheezed almost wistfully. "Of course! Both of them, and no one else! (What else did we expect?!)"

Imoen wanted to strangle him; he'd blown his own cover after all! Still, hearing a high-pitched tone of voice from him worried her, and she wagered Edwin was more frazzled than he'd let on.

Arcane fire cracked up someplace behind her, and Imoen twisted forward to see Xan had drawn his Moonblade and was advancing on them. She drew her shortsword in surprise. Edwin straightened, his lip curling as he tried to figure out whether or not to cast the Globe and resort to a swift Dimension Door; Instead, he considered Imoen's advice that his own voice mattered more than hers.

"Cease this!" the conjurer demanded, his voice rising in volume. "I did not come to fight! As the pink waif has repeatedly explained, the witch's fate is no longer my concern!"

"What about thy words should we trust!?" Dynaheir asked. Xan looked at Imoen and halted. The girl held out the short sword uncertainly, a nervous fear on her face, and Xan wagered she couldn't figure out what she was more afraid of: hurting Xan, or failing to stop him from pushing past her.

Edwin scowled. "If I was here for your head, witch, I would already be riding back to Thay as we speak!" he retorted, "Or did I not make that clear?"

Dynaheir straightened, a look of fury and incredulity on her face. "I defeated thee, thou smug and unobservant bastard-!"

"I wasn't even fighting you!" he retorted angrily. "I had already won back my prize betimes I was speaking with you, and my only error was in trying to make it clear that my actions had saved your life!"

"Thy prize!?"

"Yes, this fabled loyalty you so erroneously claimed I could not lose," he reminded her, gesturing at Imoen. "Or do you think I gave up the chase out of altruism even after you tried to kill me?!"

Xan advanced a step, his eyes narrowing further. "She is no possession!"

Edwin glared at the elf. "If she were a possession, she would already have been branded with a boar's head and would be located approximately halfway back to Thay."

The elf lifted his head, teeth grit. "You sick fiend," he uttered, his voice dripping with hate.

"What!? I just said she was NOT-! Do you fools only hear what pleases you!? She is still here! I am still here!"

The enchanter shook his head subtly. "You are a Thayvian, a Red Wizard, an assassin, a fanatic, and a slaver," Xan spat, "with no basic respect for sentient dignity nor the value of a living soul. Nothing has changed that."

Edwin's expression went cold, and his glower darkened. He surmised he was being internally compared to Mullahey, and he found that absurd. He had protected Imoen and the party in his own manner, even if they refused to see it that way! "Well fortunately yours is not the mind I must convince," he replied, all anger gone from his tone. "I will depart this place and travel into Beregost, and speak with Aegis as soon as her attention is available."

"His request is reasonable," Jaheira stressed, but Xan scowled at her.

"No, it is not," the elf said definitively. "His fate in correspondence with his sins was already decided, and he will not escape that judgement this time."

"Stop-" Xan stepped forward. "Snuk gel ahrk shik!" Imoen snapped, and a firecracker spell burst out from her fingers, shrieking and popping up so that she could get everyone's attention. Dynaheir and Jaheira jumped slightly, and Xan stopped moving. Edwin glanced down at her in surprise, and for the briefest of moments he smirked as he recalled the circumstances under which Imoen had learned to cast that spell.

"Stop it!" Imoen commanded them all as she stamped her foot and dismissed the firecracker. "This is escalating stupidly! We didn't know you'd be here, and we didn't come to fight!"

Xan gestured bitterly with his Moonblade. "This man does not deserve your loyalty," he told her. "What is wrong with you? Has he not caused you enough doubt, suffering, disgust, and tears? Where is the limit? When will you see-"

"NO!" Imoen's shout was so loud it completely drowned out his voice. "I have had this argument ten thousand times lately and I've done gotten sick of it because it doesn't go anywhere!" She was screaming; screaming as loud as she possibly could such that her voice was hoarse and her face was flushed. "You act like you're omniscient, even though I'M the one who might actually know something important! Well you know what!? YOU call yourself my friend, and I've never needed someone to believe in me so much in my life as right now! And you-YOU-you are just IGNORING me! " she gestured widely with her arms. "You-you whom I let see my homework, you who apologized for patronizing me, you who said you'd finally realized I wasn't being taken advantage of-! Even when EVERYONE else won't believe me, I should be able to trust YOU to give me the benefit of the doubt!"

Xan shrank back, his eyes widening in surprise.

"I'm not asking you to believe HIM anymore, or to see sense, or to realize he's not attacking her; because CLEARLY you can't hear anything you didn't find first in your own head! Instead I've only one thing left to say: You won't get to him any longer except through me! You gonna spell me to prove you're right!? Do you understand what TRUST means?!" She threw her hand back to gesture at Edwin. "Trust is when I was pushing a knife twitch by twitch into this one's neck, and he had a dagger at my chest, and he dropped it!"

It was fair to say Imoen had stunned the elf. He stood there, lips parted, weaving slightly. Seeing he'd been stopped, she whirled to Dynaheir and opened her mouth, but it was the Wychlaran who spoke first.

"Thou hast nothing to say to me and thy shouting is pointless," the witch intoned in a low and dangerous voice. "Thou hast not trusted me for months, and thine allegiances are clear. Seeing this, I would be able to forgive him if it were but a struggle or misunderstanding between he and I alone. But this man is an evil of a most perverse sort- a breed of creature who reserves his most profane cruelty for the people who would love him." Her voice growled out a deadly: "My conscience now demands his death."

"That's- you don't-!" Imoen did have something to say, but suddenly her tongue was tied. The death of Edwin's mother ought to have been fairly attributed to Homen Odesseiron; Edwin had been a minor, even in brutal Thay, and completely at the psychological and emotional mercy of a single parent whom he most likely adored. But shouting her personal assessments of her best friend's most private and vulnerable thoughts, in front of a two dozen people and a Wychlaran, would probably destroy her relationship with Edwin faster than it would convince Dynaheir to forgive him.

Dynaheir shook her own head and then accused hatefully at the Thayvian: "You killed your own mother. You tortured her to death, and you purred about it to me like a drunkard." Xan looked between them; this was the first time he had heard the Hathran referred to as anyone's mother.

Edwin grit his teeth, and whatever he might have said to defend himself died in the wake of old habits. "Yes," he told her bitterly, "when the alternative was standing by and drinking Ulcaster's finest aged wines while I watched a ghoul eat you alive because Viconia was willing to trade your life for Xan and Kivan's."

The witch's face scrunched up into an expression of rage.

Imoen clenched her nails into her hands and then stood up straight. "I am not moving," she told the Wychlaran, "until you let us go. This time I'm not too late to take a stand, and I'm not moving just because you can shout angry things with passionate conviction. We did not come here to fight you, and you are-"

"We?" Dynaheir breathed, and Edwin felt the sudden surge of magic.

"Kwefai!" he shouted, his eyes widening a fraction as he watched Dynaheir's finger move, carrying through with the held spell. Xan twisted in surprise to look behind himself. Edwin could scarcely make out her draconic as he lunged forward, throwing his arms tight around Imoen's waist to haul her off her feet. He twisted about, still holding to her.

The Lightning Bolt snaked through the chamber in a brilliant blue streak, bouncing dangerously close to Xan and to several bystanders. It cracked into the back of the conjurer's rapidly activating Globe, arcing around his body and streaked so close to Imoen's face that her hair rose with static and she was left temporarily blind

...


Silence echoed in the wake of the thunderclap.

Imoen didn't so much as twitch, her lips parted and her eyes round. Edwin stood there numbly for a breath, his back still facing the Wychlaran as his cloak settled. His forearms remained latched around the thief's midsection.

Then, slowly, with an incredulous expression on his face, Edwin straightened up and twisted back about to stare at the dark skinned woman.

Dynaheir still stood there as if frozen with her hand still outstretched. Rather than looking vindictive or angry, the witch looked as if she was about to be sick. She was shaking violently, and though her teeth were clenched her eyes were wide with horror. Everyone was staring at her but Imioen; even Minsc, who looked dumbstruck.

Jaheira stamped her quarterstaff against the ground and strode purposefully past Minsc and came to stand before the Wychlaran. The entanglement spell faded as she walked, and the roots and vines slunk back between the cobblestones. "Do you want to explain yourself?" the druid uttered the query at Dynaheir in a low voice. "Because you just tried to kill my niece." The witch looked up at Jaheira as if lost.

Edwin did not speak a word as he released Imoen, but his gaze darkened and his upper lip curled. His fingers clenched and shook.

"Dynaheir," Xan whispered, his ears laid back, because although Imoen had been making what appeared to be an incredibly stupid and dangerous decision, she had obviously not been hostile herself. He looked between her and Edwin, unsettled by the actions of both parties"What have-?" Dynaheir stood back a shaky step.

Xan glanced back at Edwin just in time to see the conjurer lunge forward. The man's face was a portrait of rage, and his pupils were contracted to dots as he let out a feral scream. Flames licked up and down the conjurer's arms, and the earth beneath him began to smoke as sparks broke out where withering vines caught fire between the cobblestones. He paused a moment, heaving with anger. Then he advanced on Dynaheir, his fingers flying through the motions of a Fireball.

"Edwin!" Imoen shouted as she realized what was happening, and she sprung after him to grab hold of his arms. Jaheira and Xan echoed her shout.

"YOLZOOR HIL-!" the conjurer screamed, although Imoen had him by the arms and he could not throw accurately. It was his expression, his hatred, more than anything that sent Dynaheir backwards. She turned and sprinted quickly in the opposite direction as flames exploded in the air behind her. Minsc shouted and quickly pursued her.

"Edwin!" Imoen exclaimed. "You're on fire! You're burning me!" Edwin could scarcely hear her. Jaheira and Xan stood there, eyes wide, uncertain what to do.

Dynaheir did not stop running. She fled the atrium with her ranger in pursuit. Edwin, shrieking in rage, lobbed handful after handful of explosive fire missiles after them, but all of them missed their mark by a wide margin. At last the druid scowled and stalked towards Edwin, shouting his name; thought it was clear he could not hear her, either

Edwin was apparently trying to follow Dynaheir. He struggled forward and tried furiously to dislodge Imoen. He didn't notice Jaheira, and in fact seemed blind to everyone. He must have smelled the burning however, because he did a double take of his apprentice.

Her skin was blistering. Edwin's eyes widened in disbelief, loathing, and alarm; and for an instant- by all the gods!- he nearly intensified the outpouring of heat in hatred for the pink waif. But then he had throttled viciously down on the anger, and the conjuration halted as he wiped his arms to put out the residual flames. He grabbed Imoen's forearms and looked the damage they together had done to her flesh and archery bracers. These were no mild burns; her palms were raw and charred. She winced hard, squirming as he held her.

"You little fool," he hissed in anger and disbelief, glancing up at her face to see there were tears in her eyes. "You little fool, you little fool," he repeated, running his fingers gingerly over unblemished flesh around the injuries. When Jaheira reached them, he showed her arms to the druid. Jaheira squinted at him, but then she wordlessly took Imoen's hands into her own and began to apply her healing. Xan and Khalid stared after them.

"You grabbed hold of me!" Edwin shouted at Imoen just as soon as the healing had begun, and before anyone could accuse him of anything. "I was conjuring fire!"

"It's okay, I didn't know how else to stop you!" Imoen retorted with a wince, still blinking back starbursts from the lightning and looking from Jaheira to her fingers.

"Stop me!?" he exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air. "She threw lightning at you!"

"She made a mistake!" Imoen responded, though she was still shaken. "I was being horrible! I took your side, I dared her, and for a second it just looked really bad! It's like the same thing that would happen if I were obstructing Flaming Fist warmages or something! Everyone makes mistakes; You've made mistakes; She didn't mean it! "

"I've never tried to kill you!" he disagreed viciously.

To that, Imoen most certainly had a valid rebuttal: "You kidnapped me! Explosive runes! Potion withholding! Cave in! Waterfall! Two cups of wine!"

"That is not- that isn't-!" He looked away from her and then loosed a loud exclamation of anger and frustration, his fingers coiling at the air and heat blooming briefly around him again. Xan watched the tantruming Red Wizard, disturbed. Khalid stepped forward worriedly, but Edwin did not attack anyone.

Jaheira finished the mending and Imoen chafed at her arms. The girl tried to say something, but all that came out was an exclamation of surprise when Edwin spun back to her, grabbed hold of her shoulders, and pulled her into himself. {I'm sorry,} he told her in a miserably small voice, crushing her into his shoulder. {I'm sorry.}

Imoen wondered what had happened to Edwin while he was absent from the party. It was steadily becoming more and more obvious that the man she was interacting with was the same one who had met the Spirit Bat at High Hedge and subsequently fallen apart. Edwin was shaking. She hesitated, grasping his arm and collar uncertainly. Then she eased an arm around the back of his neck. {I'm fine... Dragon, I'm fine...}

Jaheira looked to Xan, grim and perplexed. A long and wordless moment stretched before all of them. In the distance, they could hear the voice of a Sirine, and footsteps that suggested Kelddath might both be up and coming to investigate. The druid took in a slow breath, and then informed Xan: [He intends to rejoin the party if Aegis permits it.]

The enchanter frowned, brows furrowing.

Imoen took a deep breath, steadying herself as she realized she needed to be the adult because Edwin was momentarily vulnerable. "Xan," she croaked. "Xan, can we please just go into Beregost...? We are really... really... tired..."

Xan looked back to Edwin, studying the Red Wizard for a long, cold, weighty moment. Then he turned his gaze on Khalid. "We need to group up," the enchanter said in a low voice. "Please, help me transport Branwen; I'll not leave her here alone."

Imoen heaved a big, relieved sigh. Edwin looked at them. "Group up?" he growled uncertainly. Then he straightened a little. "What happened?" he asked in a more stable voice.

Xan eyed the wizard again, and there was no friendliness in his eyes. There was, perhaps, perspective. "Aegis was attacked by Zhentarim agents devoted to Cyric. She was partially cannibalized before falling into a beserker trance and tearing them limb from limb."

Imoen gaped and Jaheira's eyes widened. Edwin's brow furrowed. "And the necromancer?" he asked.

"Xzar was helping them," Xan supplied quietly.

Edwin frowned, slowly releasing Imoen. He appeared either not to notice he'd been hugging her in front of everyone, or else he did not deem it strange or noteworthy. For a man who had been known to balk at physical contact, watching him stand so close beside the thief was bizarre for especially Khalid, who had not previously seen it. "That doesn't make any sense," he unknowingly echoed Imoen's words.

Imoen nodded. "You said it. Xan, are you sure about whose side he was on? Montaron said he was about to go rogue and that he was a Deathstalker. That means he's a Bhaalite, right?"

Edwin, Xan, Jaheira, and Khalid immediately twisted to look at her. Imoen blinked painfully up at them, her vision still recovering. A moment passed in silence as several brains worked to digest what had been said.

Then Edwin leaned over, grabbed Imoen's shoulders, looked her straight in the eyes, and in a very low voice asked for them all: "Excuse me?"

...


[Author's Note]

Stress does funny things to people!