"Good morning," said Rasaad.
"Is it?" moaned Arrow. She was sat at a table in the corner of the bar with her chin rested on the edge of an oak table. Her dark hair pooled in rings on the wood, and she peered balefully up at him.
Even in this hungover state she still looked nice, with her large brown eyes and scattering of freckles across her nose.
No. Look away. Breathe in, counting slowly, and out on six. Better.
The old masters were right, these things became much easier to handle with age. Just a few years ago, though he had excelled in all other aspects of monastic life, this issue had caused him some difficulty. It seemed to him that being plagued by inappropriate thoughts about women would drive him insane. Much to his relief he had now grown out of that stage of his development. He had his feelings under perfect control. Besides it would be disrespectful to think that way about his friend. He refocussed his mind and sat down beside her while they waited for the others.
Arrow also felt a little flutter in her tummy when she saw Rasaad. She told herself that this was a side-effect from drinking too much the night before, but she suddenly felt very self-conscious about her messy hair and hangover breath. She shouldn't let herself get into this state. With a personality as unappealing as hers she really couldn't afford to look and smell like she'd crawled out of a privy pit too. Poor Rasaad. He would be disgusted if he thought that she had looked at him that way even if it was only briefly, and that thought alone was more effective than any number of cold showers.
"You are up early," he observed.
"Not by choice," she said. She told him about Eric, the Hooded Man and the torture she had experienced with them previously. He listened intently. "Don't tell Imoen. I mean she'll have to know some time, but she's not doing so good right now. I don't want to make it worse."
He nodded, though his expression told her that he wasn't entirely convinced that this was the right course. A few other patrons were filing downstairs now. Some of them were scowling at her. An unpleasant memory of yelling at a Flaming Fist officer swam into her mind and she cringed.
"You mentioned you found Sorrem," she said in a low voice.
"Yes I… uh oh."
The others had come downstairs but Xan and Jaheira were being accosted by Officer Vai. Rasaad and Arrow got up and joined the conversation, nervous in case the soldiers were seeking retribution for her insults the night before.
"Oh, and you're here too," said Vai frostily, glaring down her nose at Arrow. "Aww, bless. Don't you look the worse for wear? Men! Looks like our little ranger has a headache! Let's see what we can do about that shall we?"
The Flaming Fist contingent, with sneering glances at Arrow, began singing raucously and banging their breakfast spoons on the tables. It was a hideous thing to do to someone with a hangover. Arrow winced as though each bang were driving a fresh nail through her skull.
"That will do lads," the officer relented finally. She turned her attention back to Xan. "As I was saying, we think we've found your drow. The nasty thing was spotted by some farmers lurking around in the hedgerows outside Beregost. Might be it's waiting for you, but we have men combing the area. Don't you worry. We'll flush it out and dispose of it."
"Silver and black, a rare type of scalp to add to your collection," muttered Arrow, remembering what it was about this woman that had riled her up so much in the first place. "Tell me, do you have a special display cabinet, or do you just line them up over the mantlepiece?"
"F- for Elminster's sake Arrow!" stammered Khalid. "Let it d- drop!"
"Just making conversation," said the ranger pleasantly. Under Jaheira's intense glare, Khalid and Rasaad linked arms around Arrow's waist and steered her forcefully outside. "Alright, alright, you don't have to drag me I can walk!"
The storm of the previous day had past but continuous drizzle gave no opportunity for the streets to dry. A pungent slurry of emptied chamber pots and animal waste oozed along the cobbles. Arrow found that the fresh air and cool mist were helping with her headache. Imoen came to join them.
"Hey Khalid," she smiled.
"H- hey yourself. Are you f- feeling any better?" he asked.
"Yeah, thanks," she said. "Its been a rough couple of days you know?" The pink haired girl tried to sound bright and cheerful. Khalid smiled at her encouragingly.
"So w- what did Sorrem have to say?" he asked, turning to Rasaad. He had stuck his helmet under his arm and the rain was starting to flatten his red hair. It made him look a lot younger, and Rasaad idly tried to guess at his actual age. He knew he'd been married for ten years and a Harper before that which at a minimum would place he and Jaheira in their thirties. Maybe early forties. Though when his wife stepped out of the inn, fixing a death glare on Arowan, the years seemed to lift off him and he grinned like a teenager. Each to their own.
"I swear one more incident like that and I am going to gag you!" the older woman fumed at Arrow. "Officer Vai was trying to help us you know! They're trying to catch that drow woman, you know, the one who came here to murder you!"
"Well, strictly speaking she came here to murder Freya not me," mumbled Arrow.
"W- we can discuss Arrow's lack of s- s- social skills later," said Khalid quickly, as his wife swelled like a pufferfish. "Our ward isn't the only one being tailed by assassins. Rasaad, t- tell us about Sorrem."
They shuffled out of the way of the door. Jaheira reached up and flicked a damp lock of ginger hair out of Khalid's face. Despite the rain, Xan seemed to have perked up a little knowing that the drow who had attacked him was out of town and being seen to by the militia. Imoen, on the other hand, seemed to have lost her good mood and was looking sulky again.
"Sorrem was not difficult to find," began Rasaad in a soft, low tone, "He is local here and apparently not popular. Finding someone willing to point out his house was a simple matter. When I arrived he apologised for turning me in to the Dark Moon sect and begged me to spare his life. He has given me the location of their safehouse. They meet there at night after sundown."
"Hmm," said Arrow, tapping her chin with her forefinger. "I wonder if this could maybe, possibly, just conceivably turn out to be a trap?"
"I am certain of it," replied Rasaad, completely missing her inflection. "However, I still need to track down these monks and the safehouse is where they will be tonight. Tricking me into facing them was unnecessary since I seek such a confrontation."
"We will stand by you, of course," said Jaheira. The monk nodded gratefully. "In the meantime we must prepare to move on."
"Where are we headed?" asked Arrow.
"Baldur's Gate of course!" exclaimed Imoen as though this were obvious. Her friend groaned audibly. At least it was a good long way away. They would not have to deal with the city or its new hero for several days, even assuming that they did not run into any delays along the way.
The druid neither confirmed nor denied this and Arrow got the impression that she hadn't actually made up her mind where to go. She and Khalid had been tasked with investigating the iron shortage, only with the exception of the Nashkel mines Freya had beaten them to every lead they had. On the other hand they could not simply hang around the town indefinitely without employment.
"How much gold do we have left?" asked Xan.
"Very little," Jaheira answered. "Having to replace our louse-ridden laundry and renting tavern rooms for so long while Arrow recovered has set us back quite a bit. Khalid is having new plate mail fitted at the armourer to replace the piece we lost in the river, that cost a fair amount too. Are there any amulets or magical equipment worth buying?"
"Not in our price range I suspect," the elf replied sorrowfully. "We will have to face our enemies under equipped. No doubt our lack of protection will seal our fates."
"In that case I thought we might upgrade Arrow's bow," said Jaheira.
Arrow blinked in surprise. Certainly, her bow could use an upgrade. It was a standard-issue guard bow stolen for her by Imoen from the armoury in Candlekeep. Once Gorion had offered to buy her a nicer one, but her relationship with her guardian was so strained on her side that she'd declined and excused herself from the conversation before she'd had chance to register what he was saying.
"Increasing her firepower will certainly doom us all," cried Xan. "She shoots us as often as she shoots our enemies."
"I'm standing right here," Arrow reminded the gloomy wizard.
"Standing in sight of Thunderhammer Smithy in fact," remarked Jaheira, pointing. "Let's move."
The dwarves of the smithy recognized Khalid immediately and one of them went to fetch him his new plate. Another came over and began measuring him again, being rather handsy in the process.
"Oooh you should have let me sculpt your muscles into the plate," she cooed through her thick, ruby beard. "A figure like yours deserves to be shown off, even when dressed, yes?"
"P- plain plate is fine," mumbled the warrior, embarrassed. "Besides who would n- notice my m- m- muscles next to Rasaad's?" Jaheira opened her mouth to correct this but Imoen got there first.
"You can overdo it with heavy muscles," Imoen assured him, "Most girls like normal sized men with just a bit of extra, like you!"
'Most women' clearly did not include the dwarf armourer, who took one look at Rasaad and forgot Khalid's new plate, dropping it with a clang on the smithy floor. The half-elf had to jump back sharply to avoid the thin edge breaking his toes. She was now running her rough palms delightedly over the monk on the pretext for sizing him up for new chainmail, despite his protestations that he didn't wear any. He looked extremely uncomfortable.
"Just out of interest, how would you react if one of your male co-workers did that to me?" Arrow asked the woman casually as she stroked a tape measure over his left bicep. The flame haired dwarf whipped around crossly, but Khalid risked a very small smile. Their party leader, however, was unimpressed.
"This is the last straw Arowan!" Jaheira snapped, "Xan, put a silencing spell on the ranger! Your self-righteous preaching is costing this group a fortune. Between my having to buy rounds to placate angry soldiers and Rasaad reviving people who only died in the first place because they were trying to kill us, it's a wonder we can even afford to visit a smithy. I am not squandering our last few coins because you feel like insulting these blacksmiths into raising their prices!"
"You know... 'Arowan' did she say your name was...? You're another one who could use some sculpted armour," observed the dwarf spitefully. "I bet you get mistaken for a little boy a lot. I could bash out your leathers in the right places, add a bit of padding here and there. You could pretend you have breasts. How about it? "
Arrow opened her mouth to give her opinions on sculpting comedy breasts into suits of armour but no sound came out. Xan's silencing spell had done its work. The red-headed dwarf got the gist however.
"I would offer to throw in one of our fine weapons, shoved free of charge up your nether regions," she growled, "But seems to me you have a stick wedged pretty tightly up your arse already. Bah! I'm done. Taerom can deal with you!"
She stormed away, long red plaits trailing behind her. Moments later a harassed looking man covered in fire soot stomped in from one of the back rooms. He took off a pair of very thick gloves and looked from Khalid to the armour on the floor and back again.
"Ah," he said, "I must apologise for Margoff, she has a thing for big men. If it were in my power to let her go… unfortunately her father is my landlord so…" he shrugged helplessly. Whatever Arrow's response it mercifully went unheard, and the dwarf began assembling the plate on Khalid, asking him to take out his broadsword and try different strokes. Every so often he would have him pause while he made small adjustments with a pair of pliers. When he had finished it was clear that this new armour was a step up from the old kit. Though superficially similar it was better crafted allowing the half-elf more freedom of movement.
Without a voice, Arrow meandered around the smithy looking at bows. Some of the weapons were clearly enchanted and far beyond her price range but a weathered longbow with a composite stave caught her eye. It was superior to a regular bow but had clearly seen better days and the price was discounted. She picked it up, examined it and gave the string an experimental twang.
"Ah!" Taerom Thunderhammer exclaimed, hurrying over. "You have an excellent eye for a bargain. Take a test shot! Go on!"
He handed her an arrow and she grasped the bow in one hand, drawing back with the other. The problem was that there was nowhere safe to aim. Leathers and shiny new armour hung from every wall. Perfectly polished new swords without a scratch on them were lined up in racks and shields were suspended precariously from the rafters. Even the doors were hung with bucklers and who knew the consequences if she shot one of the barrels. Dwarves had a reputation for being protective of their beer.
"We can test out the new armour and the new bow at the same time!" Thunderhammer enthused. "Go ahead! Shoot him, aim for the armour! I bet it won't leave so much as a dent! Wound him through the armour and I'll give it to you for free."
"I'm n- not sure," Khalid began, but Arrow had already fired. It was excellent armour. High quality steel and skilfully constructed. Had Khalid held still and let the arrow hit his chest, no doubt Thunderhammer would have won his wager. Unfortunately the fighter flinched at the sight of the approaching projectile and it buried itself into his elbow. Khalid was sufficiently accustomed to battle wounds not to actually scream but he let out a shrill yell as it ripped through the joint, emerging the other side.
"I told you so," sighed Xan.
Although she was still muted Arrow mimed the word 'sorry' over and over again. Imoen knelt down next to him, examining the arrow tenderly before attempting to gently ease it out. Khalid yelped.
"Out of the way girl, I will deal with it," said Jaheira brusquely. She grabbed the shaft and yanked back with all her strength. This time Khalid really did scream and blood erupted over the floor of the smithy, turning his armour a shining red like Margoff's beard. Jaheira muttered a hasty healing spell and the wound closed. Khalid flexed his arm, wincing and stood back up.
Arrow was still holding the bow and looking very sheepish. Jaheira handed over the last of their gold for it and the armour. They trooped out, with her grumbling that at least it proved that the weapon was effective.
It was still spitting outside and with no more gold they had nowhere to go and nothing to do. Imoen suggested that Rasaad and Xan could do a sort of improvised show of tumbling and magic tricks to earn them a few coins to buy lunch, but the wizard had promptly crushed this idea. According to him dignity was more important than a full stomach, a sentiment with which Imoen thoroughly disagreed.
Once the silencing spell had been lifted Arrow, who was eager to try out her new weapon suggested that she could hunt them something to eat. To Xan and Rasaad this seemed like a reasonable proposition, though it met with sneers and much eyerolling from the rest of the party who had been travelling with her for longer.
Still, there were hours to kill until the gathering of the Dark Moon cult with nothing better to do. If nothing else the canopy of the woods provided a little protection from the rain. Arrow set out alone, having promised repeatedly to keep an eye out for the drow and not to shoot anything without checking to see what it was first. The others milled around the fringes of the wood.
Xan tried to track some honey bees back to their hive, taking Imoen with him as he refused to go anywhere alone until the drow was caught. The odds of running into her again were low, and he was better prepared this time, but her threat to tie him up and take his clothes off was still giving him cold sweats. Jaheira set off to replenish her stock of herbs, taking Khalid with her. Rasaad, who despite being slightly naive was not an idiot, suspected that this may be an excuse to get her husband alone. On the pretext of finding a secluded spot to meditate, he took his leave of them and ventured deeper into the woods.
This carried some risk. Though this Freya person had apparently taken care of the bandit problem, these woods were still inhabited by wolves and goblins and of course there was a trigger-happy ranger on the loose. He peeled back his shirt to inspect the small round scar where she had shot him. It looked like it was going to wind up being permanent. He didn't really mind. Of all the scars he carried this was the only one associated with pleasant memories. He walked on for a long time, looping around so that he would not end up too far from the town. Damp leaves stuck to his shoes and a pleasant smell of ferns and earth filled the air.
"You walk so loudly I reckon you've cleared this forest of game for at least a half-mile radius," came a teasing voice from behind him. For a moment he thought that the drow might have caught up with them but it was only his ranger. She sat down on a fallen log. It was mossy and dampness from the wood seeped into her tunic but she was fairly used to that. She gestured to him to sit with her.
"You won't catch many deer that way," he teased, standing over her with his arms folded.
"The others will be expecting that, trust me," she sighed. "If I do catch anything it will be from the snares."
"They have mentioned your lack of hunting success. If you don't mind my saying so I find it a little strange. I have seen you in battle and you are an excellent shot. If anything, a little too good," he massaged his arrow-scarred shoulder again. "If you can hit a scrawny kobold across a lake in near total darkness, why would a defenceless deer pose a problem?"
Arrow looked a bit embarrassed. The monk sat down on the log beside her. It cracked a little under his weight, sending an exodus of bugs scuttling out from under it in all directions.
"Ok, promise you won't tell the others," she muttered. He nodded. "I don't like hunting. I know, that's not ideal for a ranger. I'm ok with the snares because I can't see the animal when I'm setting it up, and obviously by the time I go back to check them, anything I've caught is already dead. It's different when there's an actual deer in front of me, or a duck or a boar… I keep getting cold feet and missing on purpose."
She looked at her hands, feeling a bit silly and wondering why she was telling him this. "I start thinking things like what if it has babies somewhere? Or a mate to mourn it? Or little ducky friends? That's why I didn't look before I shot you when we first met. We badly needed the food and I knew if I looked at the animal, whatever it was, I'd just end up feeling sorry for it and letting it go."
Rasaad was about to suggest that she consider joining the Sun Soul order herself. Her attitude would be considered quite commendable from a Selunite perspective, but he stopped short. It suddenly struck him that were she to become a monk, they would tattoo over her freckles and shave away all her hair. He liked her hair; dark and a little bit feral. Just like Arrow. To derail this ridiculous train of thought he decided to ask her about her faith.
"You are very devoted to Ilmater are you not?" he asked her. She nodded. "May I ask how you came to be so? As I understand it they are not a resident order at Candlekeep."
"True, but we had a lot of visitors from various temples and monasteries," replied Arrow. She paused and giggled a little. "A whole procession of Helmite knights from the Order of the Radiant Heart came from Amn once just to bring a book… but… that's Imoen's favourite anecdote. I'll let her tell you that one."
"I assume the tale is quite offensive?" he smiled.
"Yeah. Little bit."
"I have heard some of Imoen's stories already," Rasaad said, "For a person forged out of the souls of children, she is surprisingly lacking in innocence. It was your story I wanted to hear though."
A woodlouse in its grey armour scuttled onto her hand from the log. She let it run around her fingers waving its funny antennae before setting the tiny creature down again. There were all kinds of things scuttling around this log and increasingly around her. If only they ate bugs, she could bring them back a mighty feast.
"Well ok, but it isn't very interesting," she said, "We'd get all this news about sad things happening outside the castle and I had these really realistic dreams… well I suppose they were real not realistic but I didn't know that at the time… Horrible things would happen and I'd just have to listen, there'd be nothing I could do. The other faiths I had come across were very focussed on being the best version of yourself you could be; heroic, brave, strong in battle and that sort of thing. That always seemed like a bit of a lost cause in my case," she laughed, "But I thought perhaps I might be able to help other people. So I chose Ilmater."
"You say you found the other faiths you were exposed to were not focussed on helping others, and yet there were two Selunite monks in Candlekeep," he pointed out. There was just a hint of offense taken in his tone.
"The rituals of the Moon Maiden involve a lot of meditation and self-reflection," said Arrow, slightly apologetically. "I guess I'm more of a doer. Why, are you about to try to persuade me to convert?"
Much though she liked Rasaad she was not interested in changing faiths. Ilmater had got her through quite a bit so far and she did not plan to trade her crippled god in for the more glamorous Lady of Silver. No matter how much personal appeal her followers might have.
"Additional self-reflection may not be beneficial in your case," mused Rasaad. She looked at him questioningly. "I have noticed that you tend to be rather self-critical. You mask it with humour, but I believe that you are not always joking even when you say you are."
"Maybe," said Arrow, not sure how to respond to that. "We should head back and check the snares." After they had been walking for a while she added, "It was the Ilmatari who suggested that I become a ranger."
"Not a cleric?" he asked. This was really at the root of what he had been wondering. In her own way Arowan was as devoted to her faith as he was to his own. He would have thought such an attitude would mark someone for a religious occupation by default. Arrow, on the other hand, seemed to find that idea quite amusing.
"Being a cleric involves a lot of reading and talking and being persuasive with people," she grinned. "Trust me, I'm not cut out for it, but the Ilmatari pilgrims showed me how much good someone like me might be able to do in the right job. A dedicated ranger can make a huge difference to their village."
They reached the first snare. Much to Arrow's surprise, she had actually succeeded in catching a fat buck-rabbit. She collected it and dismantled the snare while the monk watched her thoughtfully. The ranger scooped up the rabbit and stood, brushing damp leaves from her knees.
"This is where you see yourself settling then, when all this is over? As a village ranger?" he asked.
"I'd like that," she smiled, "What about you?"
"I will return to the monastery I suppose," said Rasaad with a shrug.
"You've never thought of taking another path?" she asked. "Hey, another rabbit!"
"Of course not. Why would I?" he asked quickly.
"You didn't sound very sure," said Arrow, half of her attention on the second rabbit. "And you kind of ended up a monk by accident. I mean you were just a kid when you entered the monastery."
Rasaad didn't reply. Ever since the monastery had taken him in, becoming the best Sun Soul monk he could be had been the whole focus of his life. Yet, there was part of him that knew monastic life would mean no wife or children. Gamaz had never seemed the least bit concerned about this and he wished he had his brother's strength of conviction. He himself had waivered from time to time.
He was saved from having to answer this question by Arrow's shocked delight at having obtained a third rabbit. She seized his hand and practically dragged him out of the wood, so excited was she to have provided the group with a reasonable meal. Her energy was infectious and he found himself racing her. He won easily, and had to hold himself back a little in order to avoid losing her in the trees. They emerged at the edge of the woods laughing and out of breath, earning them a raised eyebrow from Jaheira. Rasaad actually thought this a little hypocritical, given that the druid had returned with grass stains all down her back.
Despite the evidence presented by the copious amount of fallen leaves caught in Khalid's ginger hair, suggesting that dinner may not have been their top priority, the half elves had managed to find enough dry wood to build a small fire. Xan lit it with magical flame while they skinned and chopped the rabbits. The wizard had failed to obtain any honey, but he and Imoen had returned with armfuls of wild mushrooms. Once Jaheira had inspected them and discarded all the poisonous ones, these were added to the pan with the rabbits.
It was a small meal but enough to provide them some energy for the evening ahead. As darkness fell they returned to Beregost, to the safehouse that Sorrem had described. Rasaad was not at all surprised to see the slimy man waiting for them outside and pointed him out to the others.
"When you didn't show up last night I thought you wasn't coming. Almost given up on you I had," grumbled Sorrem when he saw Rasaad. "And you've brought friends too? Well the more the merrier. Since you've been so good about not killing me I brought you a little present. The keys to this building."
Arrow exchanged a glance with Rasaad and rolled her eyes when Sorrem wasn't looking. It was so transparently an ambush that Khalid had already drawn his broadsword while Jaheira transformed into a shaggy brown bear. Frankly she was in no mood for this game. Mercifully her headache from the night before had long subsided but lack of sleep was starting to make her fatigued. She wanted to get this over with quickly and set up camp.
They stepped into the house. It was very dark, with only a few flickering candles to see by. Peering to the edges of the room, Rasaad thought he detected something humanoid moving about on all fours. He frowned. If it was the same fanged assassin from the Inn, then the temple had ignored his request to leave it a few days before reviving them. That, or their Dark Moon friends had paid the temple a visit to encourage the healers to speed the process up.
He glanced sideways at Arrow who was also watching the shadows with a determined grimace. He was finding the persistent, some might say excessive, kindness she showed to her enemies attractive and irritating in equal measure. It had never occurred to him that such an apparently benign philosophy as that of the Ilmatari could make adherents so difficult to live with.
"In fact, tonight is all about me bringing presents for me best pals. Hey boys! Here are those friends I told you about. Come on out and say hello."
"An ambush? Sorrem you betrayed us! How could you? We never saw it coming and I am shocked. Shocked and saddened," Arrow cried in mock-despair. Her sarcasm was not lost on the man and he scowled at her as his friends stepped out of the shadows. Jaheira growled at her too. It was amazing how clearly the druid was able to translate the words 'Shut up Arrow' into fluent bear.
"You have done well Sorrem. Your admission into the order is assured," barked a woman from the shadows. She stepped into the candle light and just as Rasaad had supposed, it was the huge muscular monk from the inn. Her recent brush with death did not seem to have left her with any visible wounds, nor it would seem any gratitude.
"We are not reviving them this time," Rasaad said firmly to Arrow under his breath. "If we kill them, they stay dead."
"No, of course not," she agreed, "We don't have enough gold. So try to just knock them out rather than killing them if you can."
Rasaad stared at her, distracted by this suggestion. It was hard to make out her expression in the dark. He could not tell whether or not his friend was joking. Either way it did not look as though the Dark Moon cultists meant to give them much choice in the matter. They advanced on the party, smiling maliciously. Once again he found himself locked in an exchange of blows with their leader.
A flash of orange light flew past his head, telling him that Arrow was using the last of her fire arrows scavenged from the Nashkel kobolds. Each one temporarily lit up the room like a flare. In the light the Dark Moon monks were far less intimidating. They looked drawn and strained, and some were very thin. The light flickered from Khalid's new armour as he swung his sword over and over, scattering cultists. Xan, who was not minded to engage in melee combat with trained martial artists unless absolutely necessary backed them up with Flame Arrows.
To Rasaad's surprise Imoen was also hurling magical projectiles. The girl had told them how she had really wanted to be a wizard rather than a thief but Gorion had not deemed an artificial person worth teaching. Xan must have given her his Wand of Magic Missiles to cheer her up. It was a thoughtful thing to do. He would mention it to Arrow later, that was exactly the kind of act she would appreciate.
His momentary distraction cost him. The leader landed a blow to his jaw followed by a hard kick between his legs. For a moment the world seemed to centre around a single point and he staggered backward, blinded by pain. A fire arrow hissed over him, striking the woman in the chest. She screamed in rage. Behind the arrow, charged the great brown bear that was Jaheira, swiping at her with her claws. The enemy monk was too quick and dodged her blows. Rasaad tried to get up and help but he was in so much agony that his legs were not responding to command.
The ducking and weaving ended when she was hit by a Hold Person spell from Xan. It seemed that repeatedly needing it and not having it, had prompted him to start memorizing the curse. The monk strained against her invisible bonds, squeezing her eyes shut at the last moment before the bear tore her open with her paws. Though the monk was already defeated and it was a waste of an expensive arrow, a final shot was fired through her eye. Rather than let her suffer slowly Arrow had opted to spend a shot to end it quickly.
The last fighters standing were Sorrem, who was watching his friends drop around him with increasing dismay, and the demon-monk. The latter, while less adept at inflicting damage, had exceptional dexterity. She and Khalid were locked in an apparent stalemate; she weaving around like a possessed housefly to avoid his strikes and he so well protected that none of her scratches and slaps were making the slightest impact.
"Why were you helping them Sorrem?" called Arrow, "Come on, you must have had a reason!"
"You bastards ruined everything!" he howled miserably, "They were going to take me to their master in the Cloud Peaks and train me up as one of them. I could have had powerful friends and power for myself too. Not like here where everyone spits on me."
"Where in the Cloud Peaks?" asked Xan. "If you co-operate our ranger might be fool enough to make us spare you. Come on, it's too late to join them now."
"Not if I bring them the Sun Soul's head," he offered, without conviction. The party had just beaten the fully trained Dark Moon Monks. Sorrem must know that it was hopeless. Then again, Rasaad considered, he must have been desperate to want to join the Dark Moon cult in the first place. There was no reason to suppose that these events had made him any less so.
"You cannot beat me," said Rasaad, "Surrender now before it is too late."
For a moment it looked as though Sorrem was considering it, but then he charged clumsily, knife drawn. A magic missile from Imoen struck him before he even reached the monk and he collapsed to the ground. Jaheira padded over casually to where her husband was still trying to swat the monk with the sharpened teeth and tattooed eyes. She raised her paw almost lazily over the woman, who was too preoccupied with Khalid's broadsword to pay much attention. For a few more moments she continued to dodge and weave until Jaheira, choosing her moment like a grizzly bear catching a salmon, brought her paw down in one swift strike. With an unpleasant crunch, she crushed the monk's skull.
A sweep of the bodies yielded a modest sum of gold and some hide armour, which they gave to Imoen. At first glance Sorrem's dagger looked like it might be worth something, but when Khalid scratched the blade with his thumb it came away orange.
"C-contaminated," he sighed resignedly, "Like the i- iron ore from Nashkel. Light the torches, would you Xan?"
"Oh, what's the point?" sighed Xan. "Soon our meagre weapons will disintegrate and we will be easy prey for our enemies. At least in the dark we will not see our inevitable deaths approaching."
Nevertheless, the wizard lit them and they got a good look at their attackers. That some of them were underfed was now even more apparent. The leader and her two assassins had been in reasonably good shape but the rank and file monks were in poor condition. From his days as an orphan roaming the streets of Calimport, and later his outreach work with the Sun Soul order, Rasaad was very familiar with the signs of malnutrition. He recognized it in them. It seemed the followers of Shar's reputation for cruelty even to their own was well deserved. He could not allow this to go on.
"Jaheira, let us journey to these Cloud Peaks and face the Dark Moon cult," said Rasaad seriously. "Alone I could never defeat them, but together we have a chance to put an end to their murderous campaign."
"What? No!" exclaimed Imoen. "The Cloud Peak mountains lie to the far South! We have to go North to team up with Freya. No way are we going to leave her to fight the Iron Throne alone while we go on your vengeance spree!"
"While I will never forget Gamaz's death my desire is not for revenge. I wish only to stop the Dark Moon cult from claiming more victims."
Both monk and thief were looking rebellious. Arrow looked anxiously to Khalid, who shrugged and then to Jaheira who was midway changing out of her bear-form. If it came to a vote she would certainly opt to go to the Cloud Peaks. Frankly, Freya seemed to be doing just fine without their assistance, and despite what Imoen assumed she had no desire to go to Baldur's Gate.