"Thoughts invade, choices are made, a price will be paid
When you give yourself away"
Eight Years Before Present Day.
"Are you sure of this, Imoen? If you desire, we can find safe lodgings for you until a time when we can return... you do not have to do this."
Imoen glanced up at Jaheira, tossing her a smile as she laced up her hiking boots, kneeling beside the door of the room they had stayed in for most of the night. The sun had yet to rise, but was due within the hour. If Imoen was going to get the jump on this 'Xan', follow him to the mines and possibly- possibly- join him in his investigation, she'd need to be up before the elven stick-in-the-mud. Or at least, that was the overriding impression she'd gotten of the man last night.
"I-it's no use, Jaheira. I think s-she's quite set on this particular course." Khalid looked down at her with a flicker of pride in his still-worried features. "You w-will be careful, won't you? Nothing too dangerous. If y-you don't think you can handle something-"
"Then don't keep going, I know." Imoen rolled her eyes playfully as she stood up straight, grabbing her pack and shouldering it with ease. She let her ever-present grin fade for a moment, facing her two friends with earnest seriousness on her features. "I understand what I'm getting into. I know it's dangerous. But what else am I going to do? Hide at some inn for the next few months? If I'd wanted to do that, I'd have stayed in Candlekeep and kept tormenting Puffguts."
The half-elven couple exchanged a glance, then turned back to Imoen with nods of affirmation. "Then there's not much left for us to say. You had best get moving, child- and take care when you approach this elf. You still know very little about him. He could be dangerous."
Imoen didn't respond with words; a simple, final smile and she slipped out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Khalid glanced at Jaheira and took her by the hand, doing his best to appear confident and comforting. "She will be fine. G-gorion raised her well."
"I know..." Jaheira paused as she watched the closed door, her own mouth suddenly dry as she tried to find the proper words. "I am worried, though. Perhaps I am simply being over-protective... but I feel-"
Jaheira paused, and Khalid met her eyes, frowning at her sudden reluctance... her fear. "What is it?"
"I feel we shall not see her again." the druid finished, uncomfortable silence filling the room between them. They stood together, taking strength from one another as they tried their best to trust in the girl they knew so well, and yet not at all. Finally, Khalid spoke.
"W-we should get moving. It will be a long road to Cloakwood, and I doubt they will be p-pleased to see Harpers on their doorstep."
Jaheira nodded, letting Khalid's voice fill her with hope once more. She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek, then gathered her equipment and prepared to move.
X X X X X X
Three days. Three days since he had left the Nashkel Inn, trying to make his way to the Mines and investigate the turmoil there. Most of the time, the journey could have been completed in a full day's hike. Not, however, if the roads were turned to mud and slogging through the trails took three times as long as they should have. It was the fourth day... and it was pouring just as heavily as ever. Of course it was still raining. It wasn't as though he was expecting anything less. The elven enchanter tugged his purple cloak higher over his head, hoping to spare himself from being completely soaked as he walked the muddy road that led south of Nashkel. Xan felt a slight shiver pass through his body as he plodded ever onward, his path set in stone before him, even if it was a doomed effort to begin with. He had argued as much when the Council had sent him, but his status and experience made him the most logical choice to investigate the turmoil in the Sword Coast.
The enchanter felt his boot slurp as it hit a particularly deep section of mud in the road, coming just above where the boot would have protected his foot. He grimaced, pulling up until his foot came out, the cold mud seeping down into his boot. He sighed, shaking his head, then kept on moving, trying to ignore the constant squishing sounds that occurred every time he took a step with his right foot. Still, things weren't all bad... he had made progress, nonetheless. Passing through the open plains and farmland had been largely uneventful, as even the banditry that ran rampant in the region was ill suited to waiting around in open terrain through the torrential conditions for a few coppers. He'd be coming to the forests that edged the canyons that led into the mines soon... he could see the beginnings of the treeline a few hundred yards up the road.
He sighed, letting a hint of a smile cross his face. Firewood- drenched firewood, really... the promise of shelter from the elements- or bandits in waiting, ready to kill him and steal his valuables at first chance. The smile that had crossed his face replaced itself with a grimace as he slogged onward. The odds were fairly even, he thought to himself, fingering the hilt of his Moonblade as he continued his much-squishier trek. Still, it wasn't just the general depression of life that was getting to him. Ever since leaving the Nashkel Inn, three days ago, he'd felt as though he was being... watched. Followed. His elven eyesight gave him an advantage over any trackers or assassins, but the weather conditions didn't help his case any. Each night he made a fire and watched for any sign of someone following him, but the weather simply made it too difficult.
He supposed it could have been the living half of the pair that had assaulted him at the inn, but his spellcraft should've made certain that he would no longer be a problem. Xan sighed, shaking his head underneath his cloak. Perhaps he was simply being paranoid. That's what the other Greycloak clan members all told him when he complained of their impending doom. Granted, the fact that he was usually right helped his case. That was why he knew he wasn't being paranoid. Someone was following him. Probably trying to kill him. They'd probably succeed, too. Xan murmured the words to a spell, feeling the power of a Contingency surge through him, just as he'd done for the past few days, renewing it whenever its power would wane over time. When his mystery follower attacked... he'd be ready. Or not. The chances of him dying were pretty good, after all.
A few dozen yards behind the water-logged elf, a lithe, nimble shadow jumped from cover to cover, keeping her movements and body as hidden as possible. Imoen poked the top of her head over the pack of barrels that were nestled in the outer edge of one last farmer's land. The elf hadn't shown any signs of noticing her yet... not that the weather made it easy for her to see him either. Still, things had gone according to plan thus far. Good. A drop of water slid into her eye- Imoen blinked madly, using her hands to try and rub it out. Quite frankly, she was surprised that he hadn't spotted her yet. It was hard enough being sneaky in perfect conditions, especially when the target was someone with improved hearing, vision, and a few lifetimes worth of experience.
Still, her plan was a good one. Or at least, she thought it was. Wait for the elf to run into trouble, then come out of nowhere to save his life. He'd be grateful for the help, and have no choice but to accept her company when investigating the mines. Granted, the plan did make a few assumptions... like the fact that he would be attacked at some point, and that he'd need help when being attacked, or the fact that he wouldn't think her an enemy upon revealing herself and attack. Still, those were simply... details. The fact it hadn't happened for three days was probably due to the inclement weather, that's all. The basic idea was still sound. And if worse came to worse, she could handle herself. How hard could it be to sneak into a dark, underground set of tunnels? What was she going to find down there, angry miners?
A crack of thunder shocked her into attention again, even as the dulled flash that the lightning had brought moments ago faded from view. She focused her attention on this 'Xan' again, watching him as he stopped for a moment, pausing as though to shake off his garb, hoping to find some relief from the torrential downpour they were both engulfed in. Not that it would do him much good. No doubt he was just as soaked as she right now... Imoen tucked the wet strands of her pink hair behind her ear, blinking drops of rain from her eye as she tried to keep the elf from growing too far away. He was heading for the treeline that lined the final roads to the Nashkel mines... or so she assumed. In retrospect, she might've done a bit more research upon the whereabouts of these mines. Xzar and Montaron had never really told her their location, and she hadn't thought to ask Khalid and Jaheira. Traveling alone, she decided as she vaulted to another piece of cover, her dark clothes concealing her well against the bales of rain-drenched hay and broken-down carts... was just not her thing.
Xan suppressed another shiver as he tightened his cloak, feeling the water-logged wool scratch against his skin, causing an itch he didn't bother to scratch. Not that he would have had the time. The treeline was just a bit further... and with a rustling of leaves and a flurry of branches, Xan smiled with resignation. Of course. Two half-ogres stepped out of the darkness, blunt, bloodied clubs raised high. One of them yelled something unintelligible, though the other was much more direct. He covered the distance between the two of them in three steps, swinging his weapon down with a force that would shatter his skull into thousands of pieces.
The club hit, knocking Xan to the ground so hard that his body bounced as it impacted. The half-ogre who had struck him snarled in satisfaction, but a frown crossed its features as it noticed the distinct lack of blood and bone that should have littered the ground around the dead elf. Of course, the main flaw in the whole scheme was that the elf was not, in fact, dead. Dazed and trying to keep the world from spinning out of control from the sheer impact of being thrown down so hard, Xan struggled to try and push himself back to his feet, to regain his footing, secure in the Stoneskin spell that had activated the moment his life had put in absolute danger. Still, he only two skins left- perhaps it would be enough to kill one of the two monsters, but both would be pushing his luck.
Xan's eyes widened as he saw the club rise again, coming down to strike him a second time- he rolled left, only for the club of the second half-ogre to thud into the ground right beside him, bringing his dodge to an abrupt halt. His hand went for the Moonblade at his belt as he lay there, but the combination of his fear added to the slick palms and slick grip of the weapon made his hand slide right off the sword, leaving it half-sheathed as the clubs went up a second time.
The sound of a bee zipping its way through the area passed through Xan's hearing... it was a sound he recognized quite easily. An arrow being released from its bow, usually with his name on the tip. As the half-ogre began his downswing, the arrow struck its arm, jolting it enough that it released its grip on the club. The large wooden cudgel slammed into the ground beside Xan's head, eliciting a sigh of relief from the elf. The second half-ogre, however, did not suffer any such impediment and took full opportunity to slam his weapon into Xan a second time, shaking the ground.
Imoen winced as she watched the other monster land another blow. She'd seen the flash of magic that had saved the elf's life at the first hit, and she was praying it would happen again. She couldn't see well enough to know exactly what was happening, but at least she'd managed to hit one of them. The low lighting combined with the rainy conditions was making accuracy something of a problem... if she could just get a bit closer, she'd have a chance of-
Another roar echoed over the rain's incessant din, and in a flash of lightning, Imoen got a frightening glimpse of the half-ogre she'd struck charging towards her, its bloodshot eyes wide and filled with pain and fury. She stumbled backward in a panic at the sudden attack, though her training kept her from turning tail completely. Another arrow came to her bow in seconds, Imoen releasing a bit quicker than she would have liked. Still, it did the intended job, striking the stomach of the massive humanoid. It stumbled forward with the impact but continued forward, if slower than before. Imoen barely though of Xan as she went for another arrow, continuing to backpedal to give herself time to bring down the monster in front of her. She certainly hoped he was faring better than her... and that he'd be grateful enough for all of this mess.
X X X X X X
The cobblestone paths of the city of Baldur's Gate provided small but fluid paths for the rain flowing from the skies to sluice through, trickling like miniature rivers through the full depths of the city. Given enough imagination, one could see it as a washing, a cleansing of the city that carried the grime and filth away. That, of course, was a lie. Pure and simple. The corruption and the disease that plagued the city was far deeper than any torrent could flush out. Evil lurked in the Gate, both above and below ground. Thieves around every corner... cutthroats in each corner. Not even the Flaming Fist could keep the streets safe at all hours of the day. Far too many shady deals, too many under-the-table payments that kept eyes turned the other way. Far too many favors being dealt to keep powerful men happy. Far too many contracts and jobs of any kind that needed to be done for the murderers turned mercenaries to be caught. Mercenaries like the one who followed the contact for his prospective new employer. An employer who, if the contract information proved true, would pay quite handsomely for the information he possessed.
The dirt alleys and paths that led into the Graveyards of Athkatla were dirty, true, but quickly turned into polished stone and fine brick-laid pathways that spread out amongst the dead places. Marble tombstones and unclean mausoleums stretched as far as the eye could see, each one covered in all manner of vines, moss, and other signs of age and longevity. So beautiful, the carvings and the statues and the monuments here in the Graveyards... yet filled with rotting flesh and stinking corpses. Whitewashed tombs, only to be filled with dead men's bones. Much like Athkatla, itself. The City of Coin, the gem of Amn. And yet, so easily infiltrated. So quickly corrupted. The power hungry Cowled Wizards with their magic 'regulations'. The Shadow Thieves, with their monopoly of the city's trade and illegal activities. Money talked far too easily in this place for any sort of justice to be dispensed without bias... the only place that might be without corruption was the Order of the Radiant Heart... and they were never meant to police a city. And so, the man who followed his contact went unnoticed by any, the knights, the guards, the clerics... completely unnoticed as he followed into the graves, into the catacombs below.
The stairway seemed to stretch forever, a chore for the diminutive halfling as he followed the hooded man up the numerous flights and floors. The halfling snarled up at the man before him, seemingly unaffected by the long climb. "Aye! Yer boss might've done us both a favor and met someplace a bit lower to the ground! I do enough hiking back and forth 'cross hill and vale without having to scale the whole of this overgrown tower!"
The shadowed man before him glanced back and quirked a smile, his dark eyes narrowing as he looked over the halfling. "I told you the price that my master is willing to pay for the information you claim to possess, halfling. Surely a small climb isn't too much for you to bear, is it? Aside from all this, my master has enemies. Spies, assassins... I'm sure you understand. He would not want anything... unfortunate, to happen to you before you could relay this information."
"Aye, I'm sure he's all heart." the halfling scowled, only taking a hint of satisfaction at the climb coming to an end as the man before him came to a platform with an adjoining door. He held it open for Montaron who tossed behind him as he stepped through, "Ye tell your boss that Montaron can take care of himself, and anyone who says or thinks otherwise will find out real quick just who he's dealing with!"
"Xzar... you said your name was? You seem quite at ease, here."
"Why yes I am. How good of you to notice." the wizard grinned, glancing back and forth at the bones and coffins that lined the catacomb walls. His escort was carrying a simple candelabra, illuminating their way through the cobweb and dust filled halls. "I'm something of a... connoisseur, of the dead. My specialty, you could say."
"Indeed... my mistress might have a use for you, beyond this particular excursion. Even if she does not, I myself find you quite... appetizing." the sultry voice beneath the cloak made Xzar's tattooed features rise with curiosity, though whether it was at the flirtatious tone or the prospect of another job, one could not quite tell. As unpredictable as he was, he was quick to pick up opportunities for gain.
Xzar ran one hand through his tousled brown hair, brushed out the cobwebs that had gotten snagged there from their journey so far, then replied to his escort nonchalantly. "You have me at something of a disadvantage, my pale companion. I always make it a habit to get to know those who find me suitable for a meal. Your name would be..."
The sound of groaning tombstones shifting and grinding from their resting places interrupted his query, and Xzar watched with curiosity as a passageway opened, leading downward, light flickering at the base of the newly opened staircase to reveal a final sanctum. The pale woman, raven-haired with blood-red lips, gestured for him to take the lead, licking her lips as he passed and descended. He glanced behind him and grinned as he looked at her, tossing back, "Your name, miss? I still didn't catch it-"
"Valen. Her name is Valen, though it matters little to you." a powerful voice demanded his attention from across the room; he turned back to the torch lit chamber, where a stone-carved throne sat at the end. On it was a leather clad woman, draped over it like a giant cat. Her skin was pale as the dead, her eyes flashing darkly in the torchlight. She slunk off the seat and stalked to Xzar, somehow managing to tower over him despite his height advantage. "I am Bodhi, and I have been told you had information that would prove useful. For your sake, you had better not disappoint me."
"Aye... Tamoko, it was? I've got the information your contracts 'ave all been after." Montaron nodded, picking at his teeth with a dagger as he stood before the woman who had met him in the hall that the stairway had led from. He finished, examined his reflection in the dagger, grimaced as he saw a hint of rust and decay beginning to eat at the edge, then tossed it behind him with a snarl of disgust. "Blasted iron, eatin all my daggers and knives? How's a thief supposed to trust his blades if they keep falling apart in his hand, eh?"
"How indeed." the woman fixed Montaron in her eyes, her features stone cold and serious. He glanced up and caught a glimpse of her eyes, then nodded with a laugh.
"I see how it be, lass. If ye want to play it all business, that's fine by me. I'm in this for the money an' nothing else, after all. Why don't ye go ahead and call down your boss and we'll get this here negotiation over with then, eh?"
"I'm afraid that's not quite possible." Tamoko shook her head, the plate mail she wore shifting with the motion. Despite himself, the halfling noted the ease and dexterity with which she moved. She was fluid, dexterous. A fantastic warrior, that much was certain. Still, no reason for him to simply back off when he held the cards.
"Not going to happen, lass." Montaron chuckled, pretending he didn't see the flashing anger that swept through her brown eyes. "Y'see, there's a bit of a problem. The amount you posted... one thousand pieces? I'll be needing a mite more than that. Perhaps two thousand."
Tamoko stepped forward, and to Montaron's credit, he didn't flinch in the slightest. "You are quite the bold one, halfling, to make demands of us when death lies so close. Make no mistake... death awaits you here, should you press beyond your means."
"Oh, I've a full account of my means. And I've got more than the information you called for. A bit of a hasty negotiation piece that'll make you rethink your position, I think." Montaron sneered.
"And what, precisely, does that mean, necromancer?" Bodhi hissed, circling Xzar as the wizard shrugged, his grin fixed on his face. "I could simply bend you to my will, you know. The powers I possess would make you tell me every secret hidden in that empty head of yours..."
"Indeed... indeed you could!" Xzar nodded, a bit too enthusiastically. "But by then, you'd be too late. To claim your prize, anyway. You needed a god-spawn alive, am I right? I know I'm right. There is... how should I say... another bounty. For god-spawn such as the one I'm offering to you. Another sum of coin upon the head of those delicious little Bhaal-children- but this contract requires them to be most assuredly... deceased, shall we say?"
"What?!" Bodhi hissed, leaning in to Xzar with surprise and fury in her eyes. "Just what kind of game are you trying to play, little man?"
"No game at all." Xzar chuckled, rolling his eyes with glee. "Another of my... associates, felt that it would be easier to collect that bounty. I, of course, felt otherwise. Capturing the child alive would be so much easier, I argued. We agreed to go our separate ways, and see which of us was right. Surely you understand my point, hmm? If you feel that my price is too high... well, I can accept that. I will still even lead you to her. But I cannot promise you that she will be among the living when we arrive."
"Unacceptable." Tamoko spat, her fist clenching as she stared down the halfling. "There can be no doubt that the Bhaalspawn dies. If you can get us there before the other hunter, then you shall have your desired payment. Semaj! Bring Montaron downstairs, pay the halfling his money, and prepare to depart. We shall depart immediately. There can be no chance of failure."
Montaron smiled a toothy grin as the wizard nodded to Tamoko and led them both downstairs, leaving Tamoko alone in the hall of the Iron Throne tower. She waited for a moment, then closed her eyes and smiled, knowing who was in the room with her. She turned, looking up into the face of the man so many people feared. She met his eyes, her smile fading for a moment as his eyes glowed yellow, then faded to their natural dark brown. "You were doing it again."
"I am sorry, my love... but this news cannot be ignored." Despite towering over her frame by almost two feet, the warrior somehow managed to be gentle as he took her in his arms, smiling with affection. "For every one of my siblings that dies, I grow closer to my... and your destiny. The man you see before you now... this man that you hold is but a shell, a mere shadow of what is to come. Soon, my love. Soon I shall be a god, and you will be my goddess. So soon."
"I hope you are right." she offered quietly, allowing him to brush the raven hair from her face and kiss her cheek, before he gathered himself again, his armored form casting a shadow over her as he left the room, only pausing once to turn and reply, "The Bhaalspawn must die. Find out who else is hunting the god-children, and why. Other Children seeking the Throne, meddlers looking to protect them... it matters not. Once you know who they are and what they seek... kill them as well. We cannot allow interference at this stage."
"Interesting. I had not yet heard the rumors of a bounty on the head of the god-children. For their deaths, no less. This is... troublesome. I shall have to acquire a new servant, one whose movements can go unnoticed in the dens of filth that this city offers. A thief among thieves, perhaps. Still, a matter for another time." the shadowed man sat with his fingers clasped before him, glaring heavily at the floor across the room as Bodhi stood at his side, awaiting his words. "Do what you have promised. We cannot take any chances... the longer we wait, the stronger the spawn shall grow, and the more shall die at one another's hands. We must find two while they are yet weak enough to be controlled."
"What of your rituals? The power you will need to perform the spells... we do not have the equipment or the resources. We might not have it for months. Years." Bodhi pointed out, glaring back toward the room where Xzar counted his payment before they departed.
"We will be... patient. It is a skill that has served us well thus far, yes sister?" the dark wizard arched one eyebrow as he looked to the pale-skinned Nosferatu he called family. "Let the mageling lead you to the Bhaalspawn, then bring her back to me. She must not be killed."
Bodhi flashed a pout for a brief second, but her eyes lit with twisted glee as she slunk around his throne of sorts. "I notice, dear brother, you said nothing more about the physical... condition, that the spawn must be in."
He eyed her, his mouth twitching just noticeably in a smirk. One of the few emotions he still showed, these days. But all of that would change. Starting now. Their first step to restoration. "Find out who is hunting the Bhaalspawn. They must not be allowed to continue. Not yet. Make certain that they understand... the Children of Bhaal are not to be hunted to extinction. Not yet, anyway."
Bodhi's smile grew ever wider.
X X X X X X
The half-ogre roared with pain and fury... but the sound was rapidly fading, replaced by the constant thrum of the rain as it clawed at the arrow in its neck feebly, then slumped to the ground, collapsing face-first into a pool of mud and blood. Imoen was panting in fear and exertion, only a few feet from the beast when one of her final arrows had ended the creature's pursuit of her. "There... that wasn't... wasn't so hard. Easy..."
A flash and a crackle of thunder boomed from further on down the road, and Imoen lurched upward, eyes wide as she squinted through the rain to see shadowy figures stumbling back and forth in the downpour. Xan... she'd nearly forgotten about him! She was supposed to protect him, and letting the other half-ogre grind his bones to make bread or some other foolish thing was less than beneficial for her plan's integrity. She ran as fast as she dared, nearly tripping and falling into the mud several times before the wildly flailing figures became clear. A bulge of red and brown on the grown finally became the corpse of the second half-ogre, covered in numerous stab wounds. Standing over it, holding himself around the stomach and chest was a bloodied, bruised elf. His Moonblade hung in one hand, blood and gore hanging and dripping from the blade as the rain washed it clean.
Xan stared dumbly at the corpse for a few seconds, suddenly looking up as his ears picked up the sounds of her approach. He squinted into the dark, raising his sword as Imoen finally came into view. She saw the weapon and raised both arms, doing her best to appear non-threatening. He called out, trying to be heard over the thunder all around. "My shadow for the past few days, I see. Who are you and what grudge do you have with me?"
Imoen paused, trying to remember the fancy speech she'd been rehearsing in her mind for this moment. Granted, she hadn't counted on being completely soaked, cold, out of breath, and standing over the rotting corpse of a half-ogre. Xan didn't move, remaining on guard as he waited what seemed like an eternity for her to speak... finally, she smiled sheepishly and offered up, "Um... hi. I'm Imoen. Thought you could... uh... well, use some help. See, I kinda overheard you talking about going to the Nashkel mines back in the inn, right, and since I was going to investigate them myself, I thought we could... um, you know, I could go with you. Sort of. But since we didn't know each other, I thought I'd help you out first, y'know, just to prove I'm not useless or nothing like that. Um... yeah. Er- whaddya think? Need a good rogue at your side?"
Xan looked up at the sky, the same mantra he repeated daily running through his head once again.
I'm doomed. Absolutely, positively, without doubt. Doomed.
He looked back down at Imoen, smiled weakly, then shrugged. "Perhaps. Surely you cannot bring any more trouble to my life than I have been subject to already."