And now we take a brief (By which I mean extraordinarily long) Intermission!
This whole chapter is a series of flashbacks. For ease of readability, I will not put it in italics ;)
...
Parenthood and Salvation
...
"This was no Caleshite Assassin who tried to kill you Jaheira," Khelben concluded, twisting the shot glass in hand as the younger Harpers watched. "I'd pin my money on Zhentish origins."
Gorion frowned and bounced a soothed-bottomed Aegis against his shoulder. A Zhent. Jaheira and Khalid conferred over what might have caused them so much trouble.
"He?" The aasimar pressed after a moment because, unless his sanity was beyond salvaging, Tallix was neither male nor a shapeshifter.
"Aye," Khelben agreed, "though there's little enough I can tell about him from there. Some feature or magical protection of his seems to be largely obfuscating his identity from my divinations."
Gorion considered this. The easiest thing to do was of course blame Tallix for setting up the entire situation in an attempt to manipulate him; but to be honest, the hafling's words about madness had shaken him. Now he was thinking twice about the matter.
"Will you help us track him down?" Gorion asked.
Khelben smirked to himself. "Oh, I don't know. This could be quite the bonding exercise for you younglings. Jaheira, Khalid; consider your tavern stay to be on my tab."
The aasimar stiffened and then glowered at the seated archmagus something fierce. Much as he cared about Jaheira, the last thing Gorion wanted was to spend more time near her. Aegis frowned at him, noticing his face.
"Gorion," the druid asked slowly, and he winced at his own thought process. "Who was it that tipped you off so soon after I left the garden...?"
Khelben looked up at Gorion, who heaved an exasperated sigh and shuffled Aegis' weight from one arm to another. "An old nightmare," he muttered. "I will try to figure out what she wants. Please see obsessively to your own safeties. Treat every bump and stranger as suspect."
Khelben raised a brow.
Gorion grimaced and supplied only, "Tallix," by which the archmagus immediately understood the severity of the situation.
...
It had been a week with no sign of the assassin. Either of them. Scrying had yielded no crumbs, and both were still at large.
Khalid had come to Blackstaff tower an hour past and was watching Aegis so that Gorion could shop for groceries. Bless that man, but Khalid hadn't said a word to Gorion; sometimes he just had a sense for people. But Tallix's reappearance had put Gorion in a mood, regardless.
This went beyond poisons and assassins; he was being stalked by a god who had staked out a claim on his soul! A god who had put him through hell- who had rap-! Gorion didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to think about any of it; and yet Tallix Snapdragon was in Waterdeep.
His brow furrowed as he tried to focus on a butcher shop window. There were fresh quails in stock, he saw; and they looked appetizing enough.
Tallix *isn't* Bhaal, his mind abruptly informed him, and he recoiled from the butcher shop with a grimace. Then he had to look away and step off to the side, so as not to impede the paths of busy shoppers. His thoughts flit to Aegis and he felt bile rising in his throat.
Tallix helped me out of the shadow plane, he confessed inwardly his most private fears. But I would be a fool to see that as benevolence. Does that mean... He shuddered, does that mean Bhaal intended for me to have her?
For a moment, the wizard could not move. He was floored by the enormity of the world and its moral choices; where rearing a child could spell the death of thousands. Then, slowly, fresh memories of his daughter enveloped him: Memories of her smell, of her toys; of her smile and of her tiny fingers and toes. His moment of anxious depression passed, replaced by tightness in his throat.
It wouldn't matter if he did, Gorion concluded at last, and he drew in a slow and painful breath to steady himself. It is still up to me to save her from him, either way. Damn to the hells his 'intentions.'
And if he was going to be proactive about this, then he had to know: What was Tallix doing in Waterdeep? Sensibly, he could conclude she had some damning role yet to play with regards to Little Aegis. Yet, Tallix's words had failed to match his expectations.
She'd said: "Ye need ta flail and claw yer way back out of yer own helplessness, or this game's already lost."
Which was humbling, powerful advice; so much so that it had left him cringing. Gorion crossed his arms to bundle up against a sudden chill. He, of all people, knew how well Bhaal could hide the true nature of evil beneath benevolent gestures.
"I will give you responsibility for the safety of my children;" the god had bargained, "and you will never again know doubt or confusion."
Gorion lifted his eyes back to the butcher shop. He studied the quail bodies, and was silent as the Waterdhavian people coursed around him. He felt tired, all of a sudden. Tired, raw, and cold. My daughter has a taste for sentient blood, his thoughts turned back to Aegis. If I turn a blind eye to her abnormalities, I will never figure out how to help her. I need to start forming plans. I need to be unafraid to learn more... Perhaps the quails had given him an idea.
Abruptly, he felt a tug on his arm. Startled out of his thoughts, Gorion was required to forcibly quash his own magical protections lest he inadvertently harm someone. He twisted about and saw a small boy standing beside him; a street urchin. The boy lifted up a green vial. It appeared to be a potion of Antidote.
"Old Auntie says to keep on your toes!" the boy told him, and the aasimar's eyes widened. "She says he's watching you now, too!"
"Wh-?" the wizard breathed, and his throat felt thick and constricted. The boy smiled, tossed the antidote to him, and then bolted off through the crowd. The wizard snarled in surprise, fumbling with the little vial and then looking around in horror and dismay. There was no sign of Tallix. The wizard stumbled. He looked down at himself, and realized his heart was beating erratically and his tongue felt swollen and immobile. He wasn't sure he could speak.
That was the moment he realized neither the dizziness in his head, nor the numbing chill spreading through his limbs had anything to do with his own frustration or anxiety.
The easiest way to kill a wizard was to take him down in silence.
...
When Gorion barged into Khelben's parlor without warning, he was only momentarily startled to find Elminster present. The guest wizard immediately raised a protection spell against polymorphs. Gorion blinked. "I- Apologies; I did not know you had guests.
"Have you tried knocking?" Khelben suggested dryly. "Instead of barging through like you own the place?"
Elminster chuckled. "Says the Master of the Tower who knows all of its comings and goings and easily could have stopped him. Ah? Gorion? You look- pale..."
It took Gorion a moment to realize the protection-from-polymorphs was a joke; and that the last time he'd seen Elminster, squirrels had been involved. "I... I was just nearly killed," the younger harper admitted, leaning in the door frame that he might catch his breath. "Jaheira's assassin thought to pick me off, and... I was surprisingly easy pickings."
Elminster frowned and made to stand, but Khelben was already moving forward to examine the shaken young man. "What did you do!?" Blackstaff scolded, grasping Gorion's chin that he might examine him. "Did you not think to prepare your contingencies for this?!" He examined the aasimar's pupil dilation, temperature, pulse and rate of respiration; and then set to scolding him something foul.
Elminster paused and then and leaned his temple thoughtfully against his staff. Hmm. The mothering is strong in this one today, he thought wryly. Then he leaned back and summoned forth his spellbook and a quill. Well, seeing as he has things under control, I should need to add this to my list of personal reminders, under the heading of Things One Should Never Tell Their Best Friend, Entry 101,240: Khelben, I strongly suspect that not-so-very-deep-down, you are in fact becoming a matronly, old hen.
It was important that he keep track of these things with documentation, after all, lest he forget them. His tongue did have a way of getting ahead of him...
...
Aegis perked up immediately the moment Gorion entered the room. She looked in his direction and then a big smile broke out over her face, and she went from fussy and pouting to ecstatic and wiggling within the span of three seconds. The principle of attachment, Khelben had explained, with some relief, soon after Gorion had brought her to the tower. She knows exactly who her daddy is, and must check up on his whereabouts every minute or so to feel secure.
"She absolutely bites," was how Khalid greeted him, and Gorion stiffened. But the half-elf was smiling laughingly.
She has no teeth, the mage reminded himself in relief. Certainly not sharp ones, not any more. "Did she maim any of your poor fingers?" he asked aloud, taking the excited baby from her 'uncle'. Aegis immediately grabbed hold of some of his hair, and he kissed her brow.
"She nipped at my nose," the half-elf grinned. "Her manners improved after a nappy change."
Aegis would bite at a person's face if she was upset: Lips, cheek, ears, nose; anything was fair game if one was foolish enough to steal a kiss or cuddle when she'd made up her mind to be angry. But she hadn't done it for months, and Gorion was hoping she'd grown past the impulse. "She's a temperamental baby," the magus sighed in agreement. "Thank you Khalid."
...
Khelben contacted Jaheira as, after the attack, neither magus was comfortable with letting Khalid wander about Waterdeep alone. That the assassin had made a pass at Gorion seemed both unprofessional and uncannily talented, and news of it had darkened the archwizard's expression. He cast some protective magic over the couple as they departed.
Gorion privately hoped his mentor lost faith in their skills and became involved in the matter directly, if only to speed up the process of finding the assassin. Asking Gorion to spend any more time around Jaheira- Jaheira, his childhood sweetheart- when he'd just 'lost' a lover a friend and two children, was its own private form of hell. Jaheira would always have a clear mental image of whom Gorion had been before the Bhaalspawn crisis.
And what am I now? he wondered as he settled down Aegis with her favorite doll, and set to perusing his carrying satchel. He examined each article of food carefully for poison, but found nothing. A paranoid and overprotective father?
Gorion paused, looking out at nothing. His face crinkled up.
"I am a father," he said aloud, because the words were strange. They sounded even stranger out loud; stranger, but invigorating. A smile tugged its way onto his lips. "I am a father," he repeated.
"Auba!" Aegis agreed.
"Ada," Gorion corrected with a mischievous wink at her.
"Debuaua!" she counter-corrected him, and he laughed in spite of all that had happened. He ought to have been dead; and here he was, less than an hour later, laughing. He laughed harder at the realization of it.
Damn to the hells Tallix Snapdragon. To admit she'd saved his life was too dangerous a thought; he nHe'd tell Khelben about her interference once Elminster had departed; best not to mention anything that shed a negative light on Aegis' adoption where another Chosen of Mystra could hear. Gorion trusted Khelben, and Khelben alone.
Gorion drew the two quails out of his satchel. Almost instantly, Aegis' attention fixated on him. Aha. He moved the birds back and forth, and her eyes tracked them. I should be taking notes. Daughter does not respond to cooked meat; but can immediately identify an animal carcass.
He decided he might as well prepare dinner, so he started plucking the bird. Then he took a few of the largest feathers, washed them, and came up to her that he might tickle her with the tips of them.
Aegis hesitated a moment, confused. Then she broke out smiling. She dropped her toy and grabbed up the gifts in her tiny fists. She waggled them curiously all over the place and put one of them in her mouth. He smirked and ran one between her toes. She squeaked and then bounced a little and kicked her legs happily.
I cannot decide if this is morbid or not. She certainly seems to like feathers, but then she is familiar with my own. Perhaps I should consider an experiment to determine if she likes toys made out of animal products such as leather and fur better? He considered. Or bone, he added with a more solemn expression.
He returned to cooking and Aegis played with her new toys. He plucked the birds washed them, and set to cutting out the giblets. He was aware when she started watching him again, and he knew it was because his hands were covered in fresh juices.
Gorion had found himself unable to wean Aegis even slightly off the taste of his blood. He knew exactly how few parts per ounce she'd settle for before refusing the teat, and he'd been unable to get that number to budge. Much more upsetting than her craving for blood was the evidence she could differentiate between human and animal blood: he'd tried giving her chicken or pork at the beginning of their relationship, and she'd refused both.
But perhaps he'd been going about it the wrong way. Perhaps instead of weaning her off human blood or substituting it outright, he ought to wean her onto a taste for animal blood and then slowly make the exchange?
He paused a moment, leaning on the counter and looking down. These are morbid thoughts.
And? Everything with her will always be morbid.
A child who drinks human blood will be fighting with murderous instincts all her life; where a child who likes chicken blood can be satisfied by strong soup stock and go unnoticed. He lifted his head thoughtfully.
I am not aiming for the appearance of purity; it matters more to leave stable head on her shoulders.
Gorion picked up the knife again, but it seemed that his thoughts were somewhat distracted. The next time he went to make a cut, he sliced into the tip of his left fore-finger. Aegis stopped giggling.
He snatched back his hand with a curse, and then quickly poured some water with lye that he could wash the wound of uncooked poultry. Small cuts weren't foreign to him; wizards prepared their own spell components after all. He drew up his finger to his mouth and winced. Foolish. Head in the clouds. Scatterbrained.
A bewildered cry jumped up from beside him, and he looked down in surprise to where Aegis was staring at him. Her brows were all wrinkled up in confusion and her face was heated up with red pigment. She hesitated a moment after the first cry, her eyes focused on his face and on the finger he was holding between his lip. Then suddenly she dropped the feathers, lifted her pudgy fingers out towards him, and burst out crying.
She can tell what happened? He quickly hurried up beside her and knelt to pick her up under the armpits. She clung to his shoulder for comfort, and then wormed about to try and find the injured hand. When she sniffed audibly at the air, he grimaced. Can she-? He rearranged her weight and then hesitantly offered her his injured hand, where beads of fresh blood were forming.
Aegis looked up at his face and then back at the hand. Then she grabbed hold of his fingers, manipulating them up and down and wrinkling her brows anew in frustration. She gulped in air, her face still hot and tears rolling down her cheeks. After wiggling in place for a moment, she tugged his hand forward and put the injured finger into her mouth that she might suck harmlessly on it. She looked positively miserable.
He frowned at her a moment. Then a detail of his near-damnation by Lullorin/Kazgoroth/Bhaal resurfaced in his mind: "When you are ready to serve me," the avatar of the god had told him, "offer me a sacrifice of blood from your left hand."
Gorion's eyes widened. He looked around with sudden terror, half expecting the roof to fall in and the walls to come alive with skulls. When nothing happened, he bundled Aegis tightly to his breast.
"That feels much better. Thank you," he whispered meekly to his infant as he gently freed his hand. She clung to his fingertips and then his hair, looking uncertainly up at his face. Her eyes were so trusting: it was if she were seeking explanations for the whole of everything terrible in the world from him. He wished he knew what to tell her as he pulled her adoringly to his shoulder.
Why had she started crying?
...He'd try substituting a few droplets of quail's blood for his own in her formula. Maybe, just maybe, she'd take it.
...
Sour fruits, Khelben had suggested. Droplets of juice or mashed morsels of pulp; These were the sorts of things babies tended to find enticing on their first adventurous forays into the world of soft foods.
After the quail experiment, he'd found Aegis to be slowly more and more willing to accept mixed additives; and that gave him hope. If Gorion could find a flavor Aegis liked, he wagered he might be able to distract her away from blood entirely.
So out to the market Gorion once more had gone, wrapped in a veil of carefully selected magical protections. For someone of a paranoid and melancholy disposition who was almost assassinated, Khelben had noted while checking his wards like a mother might check a child's hat and scarf, you seem remarkably upbeat this morning.
And it was true, Gorion supposed: he felt a little more himself that morning. He'd finally hit on an inspiration; he had a goal.
There were plenty of things to try in the marketplace. After he had secured a pheasant for dinner, he browsed the various wares on display and at last found his way into a well-respected little fruit shack in order to appraise a wide variety of apples, pears, cherries, and citrus.
As he felt along the fruits for bruises and ripeness, his head in the clouds, a weathered voice drifted down to him:
"Try the green ones; they're delicious."
All the hair stood up on the back of the aasimar's neck. He lifted his gaze to see a cloaked and armored halfling sitting up in the rafters of the shack, peeling a great apple with one of her many knives.
At the sight of her, Gorion wasn't sure whether to scream, cast, flee, or cry. He stared at her in mute and horrified dismay, his lips parted a fraction of an inch as he tried to digest her presence. A giddy and miserable corner of his mind teasingly wondered if he was hoping she'd prove a figment of his imagination.
"Lad, what's tha face fer? Ain't I been right polite ta ye?"
Her voice shocked some life back into him. His fingers tucked up the underside of his sleeve to touch the secreted haft of a wand. "I do not put elaborate setups beyond your master, and I do not put them beyond you," he growled quietly. "Get out of Waterdeep. Now."
"Suppose ye got a point." She shifted her position and he realized she had a crossbow bolt sticking out of her shoulder. If it bothered her, she didn't show it. "But nae need ta get yer skirts in a bundle; I were just sayin' hello."
Gorion's eye twitched. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a commotion outside and the sounds of hoof beats riding pass. He didn't look back as the shop owner and many other people headed out a few paces to see what all the hubbub was about. Gorion didn't turn, but his eyes narrowed at the halfling.
She noticed the attention and he saw the gleam of her teeth beneath the hood as she flashed a grin. "Dinnae think this means I'm slowin' down," she chastised him preemptively with a shrug of her injured shoulder. "Was a spot o' luck is all. Plus I took the job a little spontaneously-like; not enough time to prepare every contingency. Was a nice challenge."
"Tallix," the wizard growled in a low croak. "Who."
She chuckled. "Well, let's just say: if you miss him, you really need better ears to the ground. Leave me to my breakfast lad!" she admonished, taking a chomp of the apple and then talking with her mouth full: "First bite I've had to eat yet today!"
His brows lifted in incredulity and anger. "Leave you to your- What?" there was almost nothing to say to such an absurd demand. "You expect me to- to- to what? To turn around, buy my groceries, and just leave?"
"It'd be kind o' ye," she agreed. "Though I suppose if ye raise up a shout, I'll just slip out."
"And if I freeze you where you sit!?" he sputtered, his shoulders quivering with anger.
"Ain't lived this long n' failed to figured out how one dodges a wizard or spots a wand," she said through her apple. "Though in the event I end up making a dramatic exit, please accept me apologies if I poke yer hands through with somethin' sharp."
Gorion stared at her for a moment, livid and thrown off-balance. When he could speak, it was only to point out something which ought to have been obvious: "You are stalking me. What is your game!?"
"Tch! Now yer imagining' things." She finished the apple, leaned away from him, and snitched up a pear from the stall with the toe of her boot. She tossed it up to her hand, produced the requisite copper pieces to pay for them, and flicked the coins out to land in the storekeeper's change pot.
The aasimar didn't even know where to begin. Her indolence was driving him to fury. "After everything you have done," he whispered fiercely, "you sit there and act as if we are not moral enemies...?"
Tallix started peeling her pear. "What've I done, eh? Gave ye an antidote? Warned ye about yer ex? I got ye outta the Shadow Plane with no Angels or Demons the wiser, dinnae I?"
His rebuttal burst furiously from his chest: "And left me to wonder to this day if-!" His heart clenched, and a panicked feeling welled up from inside him. It must have shown on his face.
Tallix halted and looked down at him. Then she sat up more fully and thumbed her hood back such that he could see her face. "Yer askin' if he wanted ye ta have her?" she inquired.
The wizard swallowed hard, his mouth pressed into a thin line as he stared at the diminutive woman whom, for over a year of blissfully ignorant lies, he had called his friend.
The old halfling wasn't smirking. She watched his face for a moment. "Lad, ye were supposed to either bend or break. Instead, ye strafed. Ye went and played a Joker and an Ace o' Cups outta a pinochle deck 'gainst Old Man Death; and it shut his laughing skull up good as he tried ta figure out what the hell happened."
Gorion stared at her; at the wretched creature to whom he most likely owed his life.
She leaned back and returned to peeling her pear. "So don't let anyone convince ye ta mulligan now, no matter what madman's fever's seized ye. Ya changed the whole damn game, and now ye sure as hell better keep playin."
...
Jaheira was at the bar that evening. She was scrutinizing a new enchanted tumbler which contained ar freshly mixed drink. A shimmer of blue light told her that the contents were poison free. She grunted and had lifted the rim to her mouth when, a blue-robed wizard slipped onto the bar stool beside her.
"I'll have whatever she's having," Gorion sighed, leaning his cheek on a fist.
Jaheira nearly snorted out her drink. She quickly lowered the glass and looked bewildered at her elusive friend. Gorion had made it fairly clear he could barely stand her presence. She was quiet a moment, and then turned to look at her husband to see if he was seeing the same thing. Khalid shrugged in mute surprise.
Jaheira looked back to Gorion. "Prove you are not a doppelganger," she instructed him.
The wizard eyed her tiredly, flicking his head slightly to get hair out of his eyes. "The first time we had sex was on the roof of the Suldanessellar palace. We got away with it, too, though it was quite the narrow escape."
Jaheira turned scarlet out to the tips of her ears.
Khalid looked down and covered his mouth to stifle a giggle.
...
The malaise that had kept Gorion cooped up in Blackstaff tower had been broken; in the evenings, he found himself heading out to join Khalid and Jaheira at the tavern. He told himself it was because he was concerned for their safety.
Gods, how he was glad he'd failed in shutting them out.
Whether Jaheira instinctively knew not to ask personal questions, or whether Khalid had trained her to it, Gorion was thankful. Three years, and yet somehow he'd long forgotten how comforting her grouchy pragmatism could be. He had spent so much time dreading their reaction; but Khelben was right: Jaheira was his best and eldest friend. Khalid was, too, by proxy...
"Another fruitless day?" Gorion asked yet again as he took his seat.
Jaheira growled her greeting. "Three weeks since that bastard tried to kill me- two since he nearly killed you!- and every path we've turned down shows up nothing...!" she exclaimed. "If I did not know better, I'd say he'd left the city! Would that I had an enemy to face; but this waiting for days on end in this wretched city without event is maddening!"
Gorion's drink was served to him on top of a coaster. He took it and then paused. A glance from his coaster to Jaheira's showed the two did not match. Quickly, he picked up the tile and turned it over.
It was a mirror, he realized. A glass mirror, which were expensive things. And scrawled on it in bright red lip rouge were the words: "He- or 'she,' currently- is at the table nearest the door."
Jaheira's eyes widened as she realized what he was holding. She leaned over to see the message, and then looked to Gorion in surprise. The wizard swallowed. Then he smeared the lipstick off the pane, and tilted it. Sure enough, he could see a lone woman seated at a table for two beside the inn entryway.
[Do you remember your quip about doppelgangers?] Gorion whispered in elvish, tilting the glass out of view as the woman abruptly looked towards them. [I doubt that's what he is, but the basic premise holds relevant...]
[Silvanus...] Jaheira breathed. [Of course... that would explain why our leads all ran dry... An assassin who can change his face has no tracks...!] Gorion tilted the glass into view again just in time to see the woman leaving the inn. Apparently he/she'd felt their eyes on him/her. Jaheira cursed, but said: "The challenges posed by this task just became much clearer to me."
Khalid hesitated. [Uh, Gorion, pardon... but, em, who gave us that mirror?]
Gorion looked to the glass and then stood. [A better assassin,] he answered, walking up to where the poisons master had been sitting. He searched for clues, and picked up the wine glass. A smudge of lipstick. The woman had been wearing gloves. He knelt down and ran his fingertips over the ground as Jaheira and Khalid hurried up behind him.
A moment later he stood up, holding fast to a piece of hair to the light. [Can you use that for scrying?] Khalid realized. Then Jaheira took in a sharp breath as the strand changed from straight and blonde to wavy an brown. Tallix hadn't been lying; this was likely their assassin.
[We don't have to,] Gorion responded. [Jaheira, can you track him?]
The druid grinned in realization. Then, to the startled exclamations of nearby tavern patrons, her shape began to contort and shrink. She grew fur where there had been flesh and leather, and her bones shortened and elongated in many places. Moments later, a wolf stood in her place. Gorion made way for her to examine the place where the assassin had been sitting, and showed to her the utensils he/she had used and the hair he had gathered.
By the time any of the inngoers had thought to voice a proper complaint, Jaheira was sprinting out the inn doorway with both men in tow, and Gorion was casting to give himself Infravision.
...
Jaheira followed the scent to the door of an old and partially decrepit building. A quick Knock spell got them inside, and Jaheira charged forward to Gorion's startled "Wait-!"
A dozen tiny clicks sounded, and a dozen tiny darts sailed through the darkness over her head; They had been meant for taller opponents. Gorion and Khalid both cringed. Jaheira kept running. When they saw that nothing had hit her, they gave a mutual sigh of relief. "Guard the entrance, Khalid," Gorion requested, and then he quickly cast to detect traps.
Jaheira rushed back and forth through the musky creaking rooms. Gorion helped her, but they found the building deserted. The broken windows gave them a good idea of what had happened to their prey.
Jaheira growled and quickly bolted down to round the housing block. Khalid called after her, and tried to keep up. Gorion frowned, listening to the old house. He sniffed the air; The house was musky. Enough to fool Jaheira? Was it possible the assassin was using invisibility? Gorion was ready for a fight. He lingered, hoping to dare the assassin out of hiding. When nothing happened, he made his way to the door and stroked his chin. Had he missed something?
Glancing up, Gorion saw that Khalid had paused at the end of the street block, and backed up that he could keep an eye both on Jaheira and himself. Clearly he wasn't willing to let either out of eyesight. Gorion smiled.
Then the magus' gaze darted to an unassuming red-headed woman who was walking briskly through the darkness on her way home. Gorion frowned. He tilted his head to the side, watching as she drew out a bottle of perfume and sprayed it generously over her neck.
Gorion took in a slow breath. Then he started to cast.
Khalid nearly leaped out of his skin as a massive spike of ice burst through the air not five feet in front of him. A cry drew his attention to a voluptuous red-head, whom had been stabbed through with the blast of ice and who was dangling trembling from its branches with her mouth agape.
The fighter's eyes widened. "Gorion!" he exclaimed.
The ice crackled apart as soon as it had formed. The woman stumbled for her and Khalid moved to catch her.
"That's the assassin!" Gorion shouted, breaking into a run. Khalid recoiled. The woman staggered forward another step, and Khalid drew out his sword and pointed it at her in shock.
She staggered forward another step, her knees shaking.
"Don't breathe! She's cloaked in poisonous fog-!"
The woman lunged at Khalid. She impaled herself clear onto his sword, and slid forward onto the hilt. Khalid's eyes widened as he stared at her in horror. To his credit, he did not come remotely close to dropping the sword, and his arm was firm. He held his lips tightly together.
The woman looked up at him, and then slowly swiveled her head to look at Gorion as he approached.
"May... your... master... burn in... hell..." Then her eyes rolled up in her head, and the life left her eyes. Her body rippled and contorted. It grew extra arms and extra legs in a process that looked horrifically painful and unnatural. At long last, her corpse dropped to the ground, half red-head and half dark blonde, half man and half woman, with an incorrectly configured number of parts from each.
Khalid stumbled backward from the corpse, letting it slide off his corpse as he covered his mouth. When he was a safe distance away, he leaned over and started gagging.
"My 'master'?" Gorion mused to himself. He frowned. "She meant Khelben," he realized with surprise.
"How did you know it was the assassin?" Khalid gagged.
"I am currently the world's leading expert in femme fatales," Gorion retorted. Then he took a slow breath and, to Khalid's surprise, he shuddered slightly and rubbed at his brow. "I guessed," the magus admitted quietly. "I didn't have time to cast Detect Poison." Then he looked back down at the disturbing aftermath of a particularly grisly posthumous shape-change. Jaheira was hurrying back to them, and so were a number of guards.
When was the last time I trusted myself to make a decision like that? Gorion wondered. With lives on the line? What if I had been wrong? What if this whole thing had been a set up to make me kill an innocent-... But I wasn't wrong.
Gorion took in a deep breath and then began to cast. He conjured up a Whispering Wind and sent it with a message to Khelben: "We've killed the assassin. If I'm not home in three hours, I was arrested and need you to bail me out."
...
Gorion and company were most certainly arrested.
As they stood in bonds within the Spires of the Morning, the Waterdhavian temple to Lathander, waiting for a cleric to arrive to take their testimony and ascertain the truth of their statements, Gorion could not help but sneer irritably up at the beautiful chapel statues and painted ceilings.
Why is it always Lathander? he wondered tiredly, for it had been a very long and emotionally stressful night. Why not Tyr? Or Torm? Or Helm? Why not Mystra? Why- in your life alone, Gorion- must 'just, good, and fair' always take the form of Lathander? He pitied himself. Most likely its because your grandfather just had to tap a damn angel.
Jaheira elbowed him. "Stop thinking about your grandmother," she hissed.
"That's not half of it anymore," Gorion retorted, but he schooled his expression to neutrality lest he read as hostile. Then he thought of Aegis, and felt silly for pitying himself. Well, at least my father didn't tap the Death god. His face screwed up. Although... *I* did. Dismay pain creeped across his features. Repeatedly, if unintentionally...
"Are you paying any attention?" Jaheira complained. "Is your head in the clouds!?"
Gorion grunted. Maybe he had more in common with his daughter than he had realized. Obviously if an aasimar could refuse to walk the path of a paladin, despite absolutely ridiculous quantities of Lathander-themed forces at work in his life, a deathchild ought to be able to able to refuse the same 'easy paths' and work towards an alternative calling. It would pay to understand her instinctive moral motivations as best as he could. He would have to look up research material on tiefling psychology; it might give him some insights-.
Jaheira stamped on his foot. Gorion winced. "Present and accounted for," he promised her; though to be honest he still felt a little giddy, and it was getting past his bedtime.
...
It was exactly two hours and forty-seven minutes after his Whispering Wind spell that Gorion finally entered Blackstaff tower. To his surprise, he found that Khelben had food waiting for him. Not only that, but the archwizard was holding Aegis and rocking her, and she was dozing miserably on his shoulder. The moment Gorion entered, she perked up slightly and wiggled about.
"That's right," Kelben praised her."Daddy's back now, so no more crying... There's a girl..." He came up and eased her into the younger wizard's arms, who took her in a loving vice. Aegis sniffled needily into her father's shoulder, and was unconscious almost immediately.
Khelben blinked, scowled at her, and put his hands on his hips. Then he shrugged, amused. "She knows who she belongs to," he drawled tiredly. "And with that, I bid you goodnight."
Gorion's brows furrowed together. Then he realized he was too tired to care. He hastily ate up the food he'd been given, headed upstairs, dropped his cloak, climbed into bed, and kicked off his shoes. He settled Aegis down against his pillows and breast, and stroked gently over her hair.
I'm too old for that lifestyle. I've a daughter to come home to.
He stroked gently over her hair again, and then he was fast asleep. ...
It was early morning; just before first light, when a polite knock came on the door of Gorion's suite. The aasimar went to it, and fond it to be Khalid.
It had been a week and a half since the death of the assassin, and the married couple had decided to stay in Waterdeep just a little longer. Rather than being sullen or bitter, Gorion was glad for the company. Particularly, he was grateful for the ability to go grocery shopping in the middle of the day owed entirely to Khalid-Babysitting-Services. Jaheira, bless her heart, was not as interested in children.
"Khalid?" Gorion greeted and waved the half-elf in. "It's early."
"Um, G-gorion..." Khalid began as he entered the room. The aasima lifted a brow. Khalid cleared his throat and tried anew: "It's Jaheira and I's very first anniversary... and I was wondering if you might be able to help me pick out a present? I'm... I'm always terribly clumsy at these things."
Gorion's eyes widened.
This was an emergency!
...
Khelben blinked awake and yawned. Then he winced slightly, and lifted a hand to his temple as he stretched his senses throughout the tower. What was...? His heart jumped. Crying. He could hear a baby crying. And that meant that Gorion had left the tower. Judging by the light, it was an hour past dawn, which meant-
...
"Abudawa!" Aegis demanded angrily when Khelben came over to peer into her cradle, his eyes heavy with sleep.
The archwizard sighed dramatically. "Hello, monster child. And here I was enjoying a reprieve from your needy shrieking in the mornings. Up promptly with the dawn, as per usual, I see?"
There was no apology in his voice. "Ua," she forgave him anyway, her little hands waggling in the air as her face pulled up into a smile.
Khelben looked to the left, and then to the right. Then he caved in and gathered up the pudgy infant, bouncing her gently and then hoarding her close so he could tickle her feet. She squealed and grabbed hold of his beard. He gave her a smooch on the brow and carried her over to an armchair that he might read his mail.
He was not jealous of Khalid.
He was not.
...Okay, maybe just a little.
Maybe he just needed to have children again...
...
Jaheira was not the easiest woman to buy gifts for, Gorion and Khalid both knew. She was pragmatic, and so most offerings of an aesthetic nature disinterested her. Jewelry and clothing were misses more often than hits. She was a druid, so flowers were clearly a poor choice. And she tended to maintain her own gear precisely to her satisfaction, which made it difficult to buy her practical things.
In truth, the exercise was a perfect bonding experience for the two men. "We haven't gotten to speak much since the marriage," Gorion sighed. "I was... distracted."
"I was glad you attended," Khalid confessed. "For all that you scarcely spoke and left immediately afterwards. I... I honestly needed your approval."
Gorion raised a brow. "I told you for years to admit your affections to her. Why would you crave further approval from me?"
"My own family was not happy with me," Khalid told him. "We went to see them a few months ago. Their happiness levels had... not improved. Having your blessing and your presence meant a lot to me. I am not sure if you realized, but none of my own relatives attended."
The aasimar deflated a bit. Then he took in a deep breath. "Vanilla," he explained his trade secret. "Jaheira has a weakness for bean flavored sugar pastries. Namely, for vanilla- sometimes with a hint of fruit or mint. "
Khalid looked at him in surprise.
"It is one of her most deeply kept secrets," Gorion cautioned him sagely. "She will admit it to no one, but I've seen the evidence! Any other form of sweet goes untouched or gets fed to the wildlife- ah, but not vanilla!" he gesticulated. "Of vanilla there will be nothing but crumbs by evening, mark my words, and she will savor every bite! You must guard this knowledge well, Khalid; It must never fall into evil hands!"
Khalid saluted, a grin pulling across his face. "On my life!" he laughed. "I shall protect it on my life! We must find a bakery, then!"
...
Khalid and Gorion were attempting to choose between many different pastry offerings when the voice of a market monger crept up through the crowd, mingling with all the others:
"Turnips! Get yer fresh turnips! Genuine gnomish turnips, don't be shy! We've got red, we've got white, we've got them funny ones with the blue streaks in the middle-"
Gorion's eyes rolled shut, and his lips drooped into a vicious sneer. He furrowed his brows together in something resembling pain, tolerance, or anger.
"Gorion?" Khalid asked, noticing the facial expression.
"I know that voice," the magus uttered.
"Whose?"
"Give me a moment," the wizard growled, "and don't follow." He turned around and pushed through the crowd until at last he'd come up to a cart parked up against an alleyway, where a halfling was selling quite a large quantity of swollen turnips.
She was not immediately recognizable, as she was wearing a coat and a long-brimmed hat, and her chosen color palette was bland and patchy such that it faded into the rest of the market. But he knew her voice well by then; it was starting to haunt him worse than Lullorin's ever had.
"You," he snapped. He used Thari, the Moonsea dialect.
"Hey there, tallfellow lad!" Tallix Snapdragon chirped back, tilting back her hat to grin up at him. She had a brown eyepatch on today. "Can I interest ye in some fine turnips this afternoon?"
He stared at her in disgust and then stepped closer and leaned over her cart that he could speak in a low voice with her without being overheard. "You. Are. Following. Me."
"Nae, lad!" she protested in whisper, slapping a hand across her heart as if wounded. "I've just decided ta stay in Waterdeep for a spell; so I need the look o' an honest job, now don't I? What's all this 'following' nonsense? Ain't me fault ye came over here ta see me wares, ye know!"
"Your only wares are deception and blood," he hissed. "You will leave the city, whether it is of your own volition or in a casket."
Tallix beamed. "Well least we've grown past the stage of sudden and unnegotiable violence! Lad, ye want me where ye can keep an eye on me, or ye want me where only I can keep an eye on ye?"
"Neither," he spat: "Get out."
The halfling chuckled. "Ye ain't got a choice, Feathers. Old Auntie goes where she pleases. Ye think ye can track me down if I stop doin' ye the courtesy of showin' me face? Heh, well, yer welcome ta try."
Gorion was livid. His arms shook with anger as he stared down at her. "Courtesy," he spat. "You... you spin deception... like other women spin flax...!" He shook his head. "The next time I see you, Tallix, I will kill you."
"Why?" she asked picking up one of her turnips to peel it.
His face drew in fury. " 'Why!? '" he spat, following her.
"That's what I asked ye; as I ain't ever done a thing ta ye," she observed.
"You-you nearly damned me!"
"My only job were ta keep the fake Lathanderite girl safe, and I didn't even know what the hell she was until near on towards the end. Ain't like I'm the one who fucked ye, lad."
He nearly lunged forward to throttle her. "You were her right hand! You let me go through-"
Her eyes widened. "Ye think I should have saved ye from her?" she asked. "Like ye were some innocent 'lil flower and some moral compulsion from deep down in the depths of me soul oughta told me that helpin' ye were the right thing to do?"
That was it. He could not handle her any longer. He was blind to the risks as draconic flew to his lips:"Gasving jusk do-"
"The hell should I have felt anything for a man who commits mass genocide o' children under four?" she asked him flatly.
Gorion's voice cut off. His eyes widened.
Tallix leaned her shoulder up against a wall and kept peeling her turnip, watching him from under hooded eyes. "Yer dagger might o' made it look all pretty and peaceful, but death's what ye gave them babes. Ye realize how many kids I watched ye kill, Ri? Ye think ye looked like anythin' worth savin? Anythin' other than a zealot?"
The aasimar stared. Every muscle in his body was clenched defensively, but suddenly all the fight had gone out of him.
"I were there, in the shadows. I watched ye kill yer own wee sons," she informed him.
He was overwhelmed suddenly; but not by anger. He staggered backwards and looked away, and he raised a hand to covered his mouth. When he could speak at last, his voice came out hollow: "Why are you here?"
"Cause o' I done made up me mind ta like ye, lad. Yer still fucked up somethin' bloody awful, but I'm realizin' yer heart were in th' right place after all."
He turned his head back to stare at her.
"Now are ye gonna buy any turnips, or just stand there scarin' away me customers?"
Gorion stared at her for a very long time. Then he turned and walked away from her and her cart. He went back to Khalid, who did a double-take at his vacant expression. "Rion?" the fighter asked, worried.
"I don't want to talk," the wizard whispered fervently. "Today has set itself to disagreed with me. I don't want to talk."
Khalid swallowed. He glanced off in the direction Gorion had gone, and then he patted the wizard's shoulder. "Let's just finish buying the pastries." Gorion nodded.
...
The anniversary presents were a success, or so a blushing Khalid had informed Gorion the next morning.
And when Jaheira and Khalid eventually decided to leave Waterdeep, it was on Harper business. Gorion wanted to go with them, but he wanted to take care of Aegis more. He almost wanted to ask them not to leave; but it would have been unfair of them, and anyway he still wasn't ready to share Aegis' patronage with anyone.
So it was that he found himself at the gates of Waterdeep on Marpenoth first, sending his two favorite half-elves off. Without him. It was a strange situation; usually, people were seeing him off.
Jaheira hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek. "Are you sure we cannot convince you to come to Tethyr with us?" she asked. "Or the High Forest?"
He shook his head. "No. But you are right, Blackstaff tower is no place to rear a baby. Aegis doesn't see sunlight; and I am abusing Khelben's hospitality. When I figure out where I plan to settle more permanently, I will let you know.
She took a deep breath, and it took every fiber of her self control not to lecture or argue with him. "We'll miss you," she told him. "I know you are hurting; I know your choices ahead may not be easy; but I also know you will always be my brother, and that you will make a great father."
He swallowed and nodded.
"I demand a hug," Khalid informed him, and Gorion happily delivered one. There was a sharp tug on his hair, and then he saw to his surprise that Khalid had stolen some of his silver feathers. "And these."
Gorion raised a brow, and then laughed when Khalid leaned over and tucked them into Jaheira's hair.
When they at long last walked away, heading out on the road to adventure, Gorion stared forlorn out after them; at a life that, for him, was no over.
They would ever be his best and dearest friends. And, one day, he would trust them with the truth.
...
It was Marpenoth fourth, and already Gorion was lonely and bitter. He supposed he could have asked to help tutor the Blackstaff tower apprentices. Perhaps he did not want ties to a place he knew now could only be temporary.
Evening found him drinking alone. He hadn't been able to handle the warm environment of the tavern; he'd taken his wine outside and gone to stargaze in the gardens. He wanted to be alone. He wanted to be cold and forgotten. Two years ago, he thought as he tilted his head back against a stone wall. August fourth. Two years ago, today, my son was born and died.
His eyes closed to slits.
She will find me here. His lips pressed into a thin line. I intend her to. The assassin is dead, and she helped. Now her hook is baited and it's time for her to say what she wants.
He lifted the bottle to his lips. I should have warned Khelben. It was too late for that now.
"Alright, ye got me attention," an old hag's voice floated up from surprisingly nearby. "If moping alone at night in a garden with two bottles of wine over an anniversary ain't a cry for help, I don't know what is."
Gorion's gaze slid over to where she was perched atop the wall. "I never asked for your help," he replied. He picked up the second bottle, and tossed iit to her. "Here." She caught it reflexively and seemed perplexed. Then she shrugged and uncorked it by hand- no easy feat- and smelled it.
"What are ye up ta?" she wondered. "This weren't cheap."
"As you've so astutely realized, I employed behavior so as to intentionally solicit your approach," he muttered. "Insanity might as well involve good wine." Tallix seemed to eyeball him. Then she shrugged and settled down on the wall, pushed her hood back, and took a drink.
It was good wine.
"I had a question to ask you," Gorion said after a few moments.
"A'right. Shoot," she encouraged.
"When, exactly, did Bhaal impersonate Lullorin? I've worked out that she must have been a real woman at some point."
Tallix ran her tongue along her teeth as she thought. "Before ye met her," she answered.
He grunted and nodded. "Then, I presume the original Lullorin was murdered. Would I happen to know the hand that did it?"
The halfling was quiet. He looked at her darkly, but she answered: "Aye, that ye do," and then she took another drink.
He frowned. "Fine. What was the real Lullorin actually like?"
Tallix shrugged. "She were an alright lass. Resourceful and well-meaning, if less spunky n' sensual."
Gorion frowned more deeply. "Why was she killed? Entirely for Bhaal's ruse?"
"Nae, that were opportunistic of the Old Man," Tallix explained. "She died months earlier, all 'cause someone paid me good and in advance, and she were the mark they gave me."
The aasimar's upper lip curled. He said nothing, but as Tallix glanced over at him she could see the muscles in his jaw and face twitching. His arms were trembling. At long last, he asked her a very surprising question: "What's your fee?"
She blinked. "Pardon? Mn. Depends on the job. Steep, anyway. Won't roll out of bed for less'n a kilo of plat."
He nodded. "And who did Lullorin upset who was able to afford your fee?"
"Me clients are confidential; but in this case the client was an agent. His client, I was happy to sniff out. Women was a pretty peacock and devoted Tormite from Amn; N' her proud and virtuous husband, a Knight of the Radiant Heart and wealthy nobleman, had taken a quick little tumble in the hay with a Tethyrian sun elf way back when he was just learning what it meant to be a man. And this girl, while apparently totally disinterested in Amn, nevertheless stood to inherit the grounds and manor."
"Lullorin," Gorion realized. He shook his head, and then looked bitterly at Tallix. "She had a reputation for being willing to dirty her hands and employ people others would have turned aside for their history. People like you- and you killed her for gold?"
Tallix shrugged. "Killed a lot more good people n' just her, Gorion. Bad ones, too. I do the job and don't get caught; and that's my profession. Good, bad; all's the same."
He stared at her a moment. "Do you enjoy your profession, Tallix?"
She considered the question. Then she shrugged. "When I'm working, I'm dancing. My blood is pounding; and there's a skip in my step and a song in my heart; and I'm ta leave behind a canvas splattered gently with red. I don't 'enjoy' my 'profession.' I do that because it's all I know how to do. What I enjoy, Ri, is killing. Not slaughter, mind ye, but rather the thrill of a perfectly executed and singular kill. It's like the most intense high you can imagine."
Gorion said nothing. Tallix looked at his face. His expression was blank, and she frowned as the sight of him threw her off balance. She'd expected disgust and hate; he'd asked her for the truth, and she'd painted a portrait of darkness too black for anyone outside its borders not to gag. She'd been prepared for a barrage; and in the wake of his silence, she didn't know what to say. After a long and awkward moment, she asked him:
"What are you thinking?"
"I am thinking about my daughter," he told her. "About whether this same thrill will live in her. About whether her whole life will be torn between fighting or submitting to natural instincts. I'm thinking about how I am going to give her a good life- a stable life- a normal life when she will want to paint the world red..." A shudder wracked the aasimar suddenly. He curled slightly and covered his face.
Tallix shared at him a long moment. Then she dropped to the ground and walked up in front of him. He noticed and looked up at her with an untrusting grimace. The halfling shook her head. "She ain't ever gonna be normal, Ri."
His eyes narrowed viciously.
"Well, she ain't. But there's cold, and then there's me. Being a sociopath doesn't mean a person can't be good; but it does mean they'll never respond to being shamed. Ye should be careful ye-"
The fact that her words echoed his own insights filled him with panic and fury. The hells had she seeded in his head. "You are giving me parenting advice for her!?" he spat, suddenly furious. "You!? His right hand!?"
Tallix shrank back in surprise. "Lad, I am not gonna sabotage yer kid-"
"You wretched, miserable, evil creature!" he spat, floundering forward to try and stand. "Even if you were not obviously and admittedly his pet- you- YOU-! You are a thing of Death! What would you know about rearing life!? You sick-!"
Tallix shied back from him, her eyes widening until at last she shouted a thunderous: "Enough!"
Gorion came up short, blinking. Tallix grimaced and turned away from him. Without another word, she fled the conversation and vanished off into the night.
...
Tallix stopped showing up in his shadow and scaring him out of his wits. She stopped showing up at all. Weeks went by without a sign from her
I need to tell Khelben about her. About her involvement. About everything; and her contact with me. About what she is.
But he didn't. Because telling Khelben meant admitting to the archmagus that a Chosen of Bhaal had helped he and Aegis escape together; and that was the one 'coincidence' he was sure would lose him Khelben's faith. He was afraid to mention anything about the halfling, lest it inevitably segue into that topic.
Then notes started finding Gorion on occasion when he traveled to the marketplace. They usually arrived by courier or bird, and they were always brief, and to the point. "G- Leaving Waterdeep. Seven days -T." Seven days later, he'd unfailingly receive a: "G- Back -T." If nothing else, he learned that Tallix was fantastic at budgeting time.
Other than that, he didn't know what to feel. Each new note ("G- Visiting Undermountain. Two Days -T") was frustrating and upsetting on some confusing emotional level. An assassin was doing him the courtesy of letting him keep track of her comings and goings. The gesture was almost friendly, and simultaneously maddening.
He did ask Khelben to scry on the halfling, citing her original tip on Jaheira's assassin and confessing that Tallix's appearance had unnerved him. Again, the archmagus found nothing; It appeared Tallix Snapdragon was utterly immune to every conceivable divination.
What else could he do?
As the months passed, he started tracking her comings and goings in his spellbook. He started listening for rumors and major obituaries. He took notes. And when these things began to stress him out- and it didn't take long- he'd fold up his notes and quickly go back to tending for his daughter. He'd almost entirely weaned her off of sentient blood.
...
She said she'd be back and she's not.
She budgeted ten days; it has been seventeen.
Gorion was stressed. 'A Misplaced Tallix Snapdragon' was the veritable definition of stress, as far as he was concerned; it embodied, manifested, and magnified all things stressful.
He tried once more to scry on her himself and, of course, turned up blank.
He was so worried. For a few days, he couldn't even tell exactly who he was worried for.
...
A month passed in meditative silence. Slowly, day by day, he calmed himself and schooled his thoughts. His assassin-log went untouched.
...
It was a brisk winter morning.
Gorion stepped through the first snows, a satchel over his shoulder and a quiet expression on his face. His demanding newborn was in need of fresh milk and and a more thoroughly insulated set of clothing. The wind kicked up small flurries behind him. The sun was just cresting over Waterdeep's skyline. He was cutting through an alleyway, when sixth sense well-honed by years of adventure warned him that something was wrong. Was he being followed?
Gorion paused. He turned and looked around at winter's long shadows. There were no other footprints in the fresh powder. Frowning, Gorion glanced back out in the direction he'd been traveling. A second cautionary sensation gripped his stomach almost the instant his back was turned, and he looked quickly back in alarm.
A female halfling stood there upon the tail of his shadow. There were no fresh footprints around her feet. The edge of her cloak danced around her like a wraith. Gorion's eyes narrowed, and he stepped back from her. "You. Get out."
"Listen, Ri; I've got a favor to ask of ye," Tallix Snapdragon began immediately. She sounded tired.
The wizard's eyes narrowed. "What?"
"I can't but explain quickly," she told him. "I have a problem where-"
"I have no reason to trust anything you say, Tallix Snapdragon. You forget I've seen how naturally and easily lies come to you. You can stab a man in his back while you sympathize to his face; and he'd never be the wiser." He slipped a hand behind his back, teasing a bag of spell components from his belt.
She snarled and lifted a hand up to push back her hood. Her face was hard. "Look, I ain't got time for this. Gorion, can I trust ye?"
"The converse is the problem!" The halfling grimaced and fell silent It looked as if she was deliberating over what to say, or trying to pick from a thousand options. Your voice is poison," he snarled. "Every word is like a dagger on my skull. There is little else in this world that could fill me with quite so much loathing as the sight or sound of you in any space I call home. I have a child to think of!"
The halfling's shoulders slumped a bit, and for a moment she actually looked her age. She looked around a moment, as if desperately raking her mind for some solution. After a moment, she turned and whistled whrply. Gorion tensed. A brief instant passed in silence; then a tiny shape appeared at the edge of the alleyway.
It was humanoid. That was the first thing Gorion registered; followed by the fact that it was dressed in red deer leather trimmed in white fur, in a style that suggested it was female. Then he realized she was scarcely a foot and a half tall, that her legs were so short she left a rut in the snow as opposed to footprints. She looked out at him for a moment, with shock red tufts of hair visible about her face and enormous green eyes. She was no larger than a doll, and the plush, toy horse she clutched to her chest was almost as big as her.
The wizard straightened upwards in disbelief. His abrupt motion must have frightened the halfling toddler, because she bolted forward from the side of the alleyway and waddled hurriedly through the snow. When she reached Tallix's side, she hid behind the old assassin's leg. Tallix rested a hand on her head and then turned a pleading expression up to Gorion. "The wrong people found out about her. I need to hide her someplace they can't reach while I straighten things out."
Gorion did a double take. His lip curled. "What trick is this?"
"Fuck you and your tricks and your paranoia!" she sputtered as if exasperated. "Ye don't have ta trust me; All I'm askin' is can I trust ye nae ta hurt her?"
Gorion was confused. His lips pressed together and then he asked: "Where did you find a-? Is this a Bhaalspawn?"
Tallix grimaced, her gaze darkening and her grasp tightening on the child. She was offended it mattered. "Her pa was no one. Some cute redhead from down south."
He frowned, drawing back. "Her- She can't be- You are eighty-"
"Eighty-six, aye!" Tallix shouted. "And I don't get laid often, so at eighty-two I naively presumed I were past the phase o' needin' ta use a goatskin sleeve! Life be just full of fecking surprises, eh?!"
The wizard's stomach dropped out from within him. He looked at the toddler, and then up at Tallix. Three. The child was three. A divination could prove her lineage. "You- you have a-?"
Tallix swallowed. "Aye," she agreed, voice hoarse. Then she straightened a little. "Her name's Anaxa. Best thing I ever done in this world. So one last time, Ri, as we are kinda dodgin' a landslide and I need a straight answer: Can I trust ye nae ta hurt her?"
Gorion stared at her. Stared; as the truth finally hit him in all its many colors.
...
[Author's Note]
I wonder how many people caught on when Tallix was talking to Montaron that she had a 23 year old daughter and that Aegis was 20, which meant she'd just become a new mum immediately prior to the Bhaalspawn purges and that she was hiding a 3 year old somewhere the day Gorion adopted Aegis...
Also if it's winter, Imoen was just born ;)