Author's Note: Many thanks to Inconspicuous Acuity for pointing out something to me, which in turn only served to give me some ideas that I might use later on (assuming I remember about them...!) And lots more thanks to Kulyok, for graciously reading over this when it just wasn't flowing and pointing out the bits that were needing some work :D

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I stand in front of you

I'll take the force of the blow

Protection

You're a boy and I'm a girl

But you know you can lean on me

And I don't have no fear

I'll take on any man here

Who says that's not the way it should be

-- Massive Attack, Protection

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"You there, is your name Nuila?" She was a tall figure dressed in a blue robe and cloak, and around her head was a simple silver circlet, holding her black hair away from her face. Xan sighed at the sight of her and her three armoured and mean looking companions. Their hunt for Commander Brage was being far from successful -- indeed, instead of finding the insane former Guard Captain, the group had only managed to find a talking chicken, which was now sitting in Imoen's backpack, its head peeking out slightly as it squawked in fear. It was hardly the tale of heroes.

Nuila was glaring at the woman who had addressed her, obviously contemplating her reply. He wondered at their knowledge of his leader's name; his instinct suggested that they were more assassins -- logically, there could be no other explanation. So carefully and quietly he watched the tense scene unfold, trying to have some hope that he was sorely mistaken with what he'd assumed.

The woman tutted, and he slowly pulled out a small vial of oak sap, quite glad that they seemed to be completely uncaring about his very presence. "Hurry up and answer... and it had better be the truth, for your life depends upon it." He'd been right in his guess, it seemed, and the feeling of the bottle's cap coming loose in his fingers did not bring him any relief. The four women looked highly competent.

"Tiax must demand to know why you are so interested in this elf, when the Mighty Tiax himself stands before you!" Xan groaned. "When Tiax rules all, he will forgive you this indiscretion if you forget your interest in this Nuila, and throw yourselves at his feet now, promising to serve his needs for the rest of the day!"

One of the women -- dressed in simple leathers with a mottled cloak, her hood up and shrouding most of her face in shadow -- pulled free an arrow from the quiver slung across her back and lined up her shot. The original speaker smiled cruelly but held up a hand, staying her companion's shot. "Telka's sense of humour is... quite refined. Her patience is almost as limited as mine."

Nuila was shaking her head slowly at Ajantis. The squire had been about to draw his sword when the monk caught sight, stopping him before he could do anything rash, much to Xan's relief. The enchanter was not willing to die due to the hot-headed reaction of some barely pubescent boy.

"Look, Maniera," the woman cooed, noticing the elven girl's slight move. "She is the one telling them what to do... that would make her the leader, wouldn't you agree?"

The other hooded figure nodded her agreement. Unlike her companions, she was dressed in a myriad of green tones, making her appear like a tree going through the seasons. "She fits the description, Lamalha. Surely it is better to be safe than sorry?"

"I have to agree," replied Lamalha serenely, pulling a rather vicious-looking flail free from a belt under her robes. "Zeela -- begin!"

The fourth figure had been hanging back slightly from the others, but upon the woman's words she instantly began murmuring the words to some incantation. An eerie white glow enveloped her before rippling out, away from her being, and striking Nuila and her companions, momentarily blinding some of them. Xan managed to shake the effects, then noted with dismay what had happened: Garrick was lying limply on the ground, stunned from the priest spell, though thankfully everyone else seemed to only be slightly disorientated. Quickly, the enchanter snapped open the vial in his hands and began murmuring.

Nuila had leapt forward, her dusters connecting with Telka's temple, knocking the girl to the ground. Telka had already managed to get off an arrow, however, which had struck Branwen in the arm and was causing the priestess to scream in agony, too busy writhing in pain to be able to reach out to Tempus it seemed. Xan wondered what the hunters had done to the arrows to make them have such a powerful effect.

Ajantis was swinging his sword at the opposing leader, using his shield to protect him from her flail. Then, suddenly, he dropped to the ground, almost as if he was asleep. The small glint of yellow light that spiralled around him dismayed Xan -- how many of these women were in the service of dark Gods?

Eventually he reached the final part of his casting. There was no sign of pink-hair, to his dismay; he had partly hoped that she would have something up her sleeve right now, but realised that he was probably being overly harsh. She was still, after all, barely an apprentice. The last word passed from his lips, and the globe of magic spun from his fingertips, launching itself through the air towards his intended target. Branwen was charging into the fight; Tiax had proven his worth, managing to administer some healing to the priestess while carefully skirting around the area of open hostility. To Xan's dismay, the women spellcasters had not been dallying -- simultaneously, both finished their own prayers, unleashing their respective effects against the group.

Another white ripple coursed across Nuila and Branwen, and Xan was terrified to see the elven girl stumble, her body seeming to go limp, her balance failing. But then, she seemed to regain control of herself, fighting the effects as she ducked Maniera's sword, pulling away from the fight to compose herself.

The other spell caused the air to ripple, and Imoen appeared as if from nowhere, dagger in hand. Without any warning, the girl forced it into Zeela's back, causing the woman to scream in pain as she fell to her knees. With a cry of fury, Telka scrambled to her feet, recovered from Nuila's attack, drawing her own weapon free from her scabbard as she closed in on the young thief.

Xan's spell hit her just before she made her first lunge, and he instantly felt her weak will fighting against him. It was no match for his experience with emotions, though, and he easily pulled her away from her attack, forcing the woman to obey his will as he instructed her to turn and strike at the blue-robed woman to her side. Lamalha shrieked in surprise as her ally's sword cut through her flesh, quickly moving herself away from the battle and leaving the possessed woman facing the advancing Nuila, as Branwen distracted Maniera.

"Nuila, no!" he cried, desperately trying to hold his control over the woman and communicate with his leader at the same time. It wasn't easy -- his spell required his full concentration, but he found it hard to focus himself on the continued bond while Nuila was in the midst of the battle. The elven girl tensed at his words, letting her eyes flicker away from Telka only briefly to rest on him. Then with a slight nod, she turned, pursuing Lamalha as the woman darted towards the fallen Ajantis, her flail raised high.

He felt beads of sweat forming on his brow as he continued to try and guide the woman into attacking Maniera, Branwen looking slightly surprised to have such a surprising aid in the battle. As the blows were exchanged, it became harder and harder for him to keep a hold of the girl; she became stronger inside as his wavering attention continually tried to drift towards Nuila. Eventually Telka managed to push his influence from her head, snarling viciously as she feinted the blow she'd had aimed at her companion, swinging it lower and wider than he would have imagined possible, and catching Branwen nastily on the shoulder.

His fingers were trembling as he searched for his pouch of ground batwing, momentarily distracted from the battle by the sudden break in his attachment that left his senses reeling somewhat. Only one of the women had fallen, felled by Imoen's dagger, while the other three were still proving to be strong and resilient. Nuila's scream drew his eyes back up, looking over to the skirmish that seemed to be a million miles away, watching as the ground beneath the monk's feet literally exploded.

She was thrown back as debris showered down around them; the glyph of warding exploding with such ferocity upon her contact that it caused a deep hole to form, taking them all by surprise. Lightning flashed through the air, hitting those nearest as Xan could only watch with horror. Branwen was knocked to the ground, but dragged herself back to her feet to get to Maniera, clubbing the slightly dazed woman ferociously before turning to defend herself from Telka's advance.

Lamalha was almost at Nuila by the time he began his spell, and he felt his heart sinking -- he had no chance of finishing his conjuration before the woman struck the prone elven girl's body, but he began the murmuring regardless, willing himself to speak the words faster than he ever had before. The monk raised a shaky finger at her attacker, and Lamalha yelped in pain as a mass of red energy seemed to swirl out from her and soak into Nuila's body.

The flail was raised and Lamalha's body was tensed, poised for the strike... but before she could bring her weapon down on Nuila's skull, a solitary pink missile skipped through the air, knocking into her with deceptive force. It was enough to unbalance her, and gave Xan enough time to finish his spell. The acid arrow sank into the woman's flesh, making her shout in pain; but her shouting ended abruptly when Ajantis' sword suddenly plunged into her chest.

The squire wasted no time in leaping away to Branwen's aid -- the priestess having fought off Telka wearily, only to be faced with Maniera's last stand; one that was ended by Ajantis, shortly before his sword found the heart of the final assassin to stand. It felt as if hours had passed, but Xan was sure the fight had only lasted minutes from beginning to end, despite the injuries they'd managed to amass and the devastation that had caused the ground to become rent.

Slowly, and one by one, his companions began to find their wits, regain their composure, and sort themselves out. He moved over to Imoen, patting her shoulder as she stood watching the scene, dumbstruck. Her first spell, he noted proudly to himself. Not one he himself would have chosen -- Evocation was a fairly simple branch of the Art, though, and it made sense that she would have more success with a simple cantrip like that than a more masterful spell from the school of Enchantment. Nonetheless, he offered her a solemn nod before looking back to the carnage strewn around them. The girl did have some talent, after all.

Ajantis was helping Branwen to her feet, hoisting the priestess up with gallant ease. Neither of them looked too badly injured. Branwen immediately started tending the wound on her shoulder as the paladin added his own holy healing capability to the mix, much to her obvious appreciation and gratitude. He looked away awkwardly as she thanked him, flushing from her kind words; but the priestess barely seemed to notice his bashful fidgeting as she checked herself over. When he was satisfied that she was relatively well healed, he took himself over towards Nuila and Garrick. Xan found himself drumming his fingers on his moonblade's hilt.

Tiax was kneeling beside Nuila and Garrick's sides. The bard was offering Nuila a weak smile, despite the cuts and bruises covering his face and hands from debris of the explosion. He had been the closest person to the detonation, excluding Nuila who had been moving so quickly that she'd managed to escape the worst of the blast, unlike the prone Garrick. He looked a mess, and to Xan's dismay, the elven girl's eyes were closed, the eerie glow coming from her hands again as she touched his injuries. He didn't know what was worse: seeing her use such unnatural abilities, even though she knew how he felt about them, or seeing her wasting them on the young human boy. But, perhaps that was the least of his worries, now... the enchanter knew he would find it difficult to forget the eerie red glow that she seemed to have commanded in the battle, appearing to drain her victim's life force for the sake of her own. He was aware of spells that could perform like this, but she had no magical ability. It only served to frighten him.

"Wow."

Imoen seemed to be completely oblivious to all that had happened, not even showing any desire to check through the bodies lying strewn around in the grass. Xan raised an eyebrow at her, waiting to see if she wished to further expand on her thoughts.

"...wow."

He sighed heavily. Tiax had tended the bard as much as he obviously deemed fit, and had moved to loot what possessions he could find after seeing that Imoen was... well, preoccupied. The enchanter could only hope that he wouldn't find anything too dangerous lying around, and that if he did, someone would manage to wrestle it from him before he managed to kill them all.

"Did you see that?"

"Yes, Imoen, I saw it. It was quite well done for someone so unlearned, though next time I would have a slight suggestion to improve your casting."

She shook her head, almost as if trying to return to the present time, and she gave him a vaguely curious look. "Oh? Whassat?"

He smiled wryly. "After you've cast your spell, it's generally beneficial to your health if you manage to do more than just stand there with a slightly woolly expression." He knew she was staring indignantly at him as he moved away, so he allowed himself a small smile. He carefully made his way closer to the others, where the bard had been giving Nuila a brave-looking smile; but when she looked over to nod to Xan, Garrick's smile turned into a scowl -- only for a split-second, however. Xan noted with some amusement how his pained expression returned as soon as Nuila's attention was focussed back on him.

"I am sure Ajantis will be able to offer you some support," she said softly to him, "as well as Branwen and I, whenever possible. If your injuries are so bad, I would be inclined to think we should return to Nashkel to ensure you receive proper care and attention at the temple, before we continue our search for Commander Brage."

Xan raised an eyebrow. "Our songster has been badly wounded?"

Nuila nodded to him solemnly as Ajantis continued to gently offer up prayers to Helm, channelling his limited healing powers into tending the monk's own rapidly healing cuts and bruises. "A day or two resting at the temple should provide him with enough curative therapy to lift the pain he feels, and we are no closer to finding our quarry than we were when we started off. It will give us a chance to regroup and set out again, with new supplies."

"Well," Garrick said hurriedly, "I'm sure it's not that bad -- I should think- ARGH!"

"Tiax!" Nuila had stood up abruptly, spinning around to glare at the gnome. He shrugged innocently at her.

"Tiax wished to see if the tuneless bard really was injured or not, so decided to test his mettle. When Tiax rules all, any feigning of injury to avoid Tiax-worship shall be punished most heavily!"

"I'm still sure there was no need to kick him... well, there," continued Nuila sternly; looking back down to Garrick who had tears breaking through his tightly squeezed shut eyes. "Are you all right?"

"I've... been better," the bard squeaked in response. Xan had to put his hand over his mouth, for fear of his smile being seen by the monk girl. As it was, she seemed to be too preoccupied with Tiax's methods of determining injury.

"You can't go around hurting people like that," she chided. Tiax just snorted at her, then darted off to argue with Imoen about a coin pouch she'd found on Telka's body.

Nuila sighed and shook her head. She didn't look terribly unhappy though -- more bemused, Xan noted. "Ajantis?"

"Yes, my lady?" The squire answered instantly, causing Xan to feel more than slightly irritated. The human was so obvious with his desire to please the elven girl.

"Can you help me to support Garrick? We'll head back to Nashkel now, and take a room in the inn for this evening." She grinned slightly as she heaved the bard to his feet, looking over at the rest of her group. "Perhaps tomorrow we'll have slightly more success..."

Xan followed quietly as they slowly set off back along the path that wound its way through the hills and valleys. They rested frequently, Nuila taking turns with Branwen and Ajantis to support the seemingly infirm Garrick as he limped along pathetically, almost always leaning more on the woman supporting him than the squire. Now and then, Tiax would sneak up behind them, jabbing his finger rather ferociously into some of Garrick's lesser wounds and causing the bard to whimper weakly until Nuila rebuked him and chased him away.

"When Tiax sits high on his throne, he shall remember the songs you sang, minion, and Tiax shall demand your repentance through a thousand verses dedicated to Tiax's virility!" the gnome called towards the bard. It was almost enough for Xan to have some sympathy for the young human... but not quite.

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Xan was not surprised to see Imoen pouring over her spellbook that night, having finally drained him of any enthusiasm he had for teaching her within a half-hour of their arrival at the Nashkel Inn. He had to admire her determination though, if nothing else, but he was also beginning to wish there was another mage within the group who would be happy to share at least some of the responsibility for the girl -- she was insatiable with her thirst for knowledge.

Garrick had been taken to the clerics at the Temple of Helm, and, much to his horror, left there to be tended. Xan still could not decide if the bard really was badly injured, or not -- the sympathy he was getting from Nuila obviously made the whole prospect of trying to 'brave' the pain attractive, but the thought of being confined with the uptight acolytes in the backwater town was... well, Xan could understand why it could be viewed with displeasure, to a degree. While not nearly as horrifying as being trapped in the town's mine, it would involve a prolonged absence form the group... from some people in the group.

The bard seemed to share this sentiment, begging them to allow him to hobble after them and aid their continued search for the errant commander the next day; but Xan was quietly pleased to note that Nuila was having none of it -- firmly leading Garrick back to the bed that had been made up for him and insisting that they'd return to see how he was in a few days. Xan was sure to send one final smile to the bard as they exited the temple to return to the inn, though it took all the control he could muster to ensure it was not overly smug.

Ajantis and Branwen had wholly agreed with the decision to leave Garrick in the hands of the priests of Helm, allowing their limited healing powers to be more available for any further battles they became embroiled in, rather than tending the bard's seemingly endless list of ailments. They were now they were sitting side by side at the table, slightly away from the others as they conversed in low tones. The enchanter couldn't help but notice that the holy man's gaze flickered over to Nuila more than occasionally, though both the priestess, recounting her whole life story, and the elven girl in question seemed completely unaware.

Instead, Nuila was drumming her fingers on the table, having had an exchange with Tiax. She had taken quite a bit of objection to his sudden declaration that Imoen's increased knowledge would be used to utilise Tiax's ascension to rule all. This effectively meant, in the gnome's opinion, that he -- and only he -- would be involved in determining what path the girl would take, despite having no real knowledge of the Art himself. Nuila had pointed this out, causing him to leap from his seat as he pointed a bony finger at her.

"Infidel!" he shrieked. "Heathen! Tiax knows you stand against his rightful place in these lands, and when Tiax rules all you will have no choice but to serve as his personal nose-hair trimmer!" Several of the inn's patrons had paused in their drinks to look over to the scene, and even Branwen had paused in her incessant tales of her childhood to see what had bothered the gnome now.

"You'd let me near your precious nose?" Nuila remarked with a grin. "Truly, I feel most honoured."

"No!" Tiax shrieked in frustration. "Tiax will not let someone like you near his most glorious appendage!"

Imoen had then choked on her drink, having only caught that one line, and being completely oblivious to what was being discussed. The gnome had stomped off upstairs to his room, shrieking and yelling about the things he'd do to them when Cyric's time came, ignoring Nuila's attempted apology for offending him. She let out a sigh and sat back down across from Xan as Branwen launched back into her one-sided conversation with Ajantis.

"Maybe he should go," she suddenly announced, frowning slightly.

"Now?" he asked. "After today? Do I need to remind you how close we came to dying miserably out there?" She snorted, but he knew she'd taken his point on board. "Although some of your choices regarding suitable companions have been... dare I say, questionable, to say the least," he continued, "I do think that you need all the help you can get."

"Hmm. Perhaps."

"And I cannot say that I've noticed any signs, until now, that you objected to his travelling with us." Xan watched her carefully as she spoke. She was fidgeting with her dusters, a slight frown on her face. "Is this because of his sudden interest in Imoen?"

She gave him a surprised look, then looked momentarily confused. "No... well..." She sighed heavily. "I don't know. Until now he's just been... there, you know? But he was quite cruel to Garrick earlier, and I don't want him influencing Imoen any more than can be helped."

"I am sure Garrick is in good hands now," Xan noted, "and Imoen is quite capable of looking out for herself. I do not see her being as easily led as you seem to fear."

"No, perhaps not. It is good that she has you teaching her." She smiled at him, full of warmth. "I appreciate all the help you've been giving us -- it's much more than I ever expected."

"It will prove to be futile," he replied with a slight shrug. "No matter if you lessen our number or not, given a tenday there is a very good chance that I will be digging a shallow grave for you, somewhere in the wilderness. Assuming, of course, that I somehow manage to outlive you -- but considering I'm not foolish enough to charge headfirst into battle, it may very well happen."

"We're not going to die," she replied.

"We all die, sooner or later. Knowing our luck, it will be sooner." He met her eyes, his face solemn. She seemed to notice this, her own small smile fading as her expression changed into one that almost resembled sorrow. "Please, Nuila... for the safety of us all, if nothing else -- please consider carefully before you ask anyone to leave your group. Think back to today and how it could have been different if any one of us had been absent."

She nodded, but soon enough a wry grin had formed on her face again. "Except Garrick, then," she pointed out.

He sighed and rolled his eyes, and she hastily apologised, clearing her through slightly before she continued.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you insisting Tiax stay with us," she said, almost teasingly. Her eyes were twinkling as she continued in a mutter. "Or Garrick and Ajantis, for that matter." Her tone was innocent -- almost too innocent. He quickly looked over towards the others; Imoen was still engrossed in her studies, and Branwen had somehow managed to actually capture Ajantis' attention by discussing religion with him. Their debate looked like it could become quite heated.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh," she replied airily, "just that sometimes things have seemed strained, on occasion, between you all. Well, especially yourself and Garrick, I noticed -- and more recently Ajantis. And Tiax's people skills... well, I just thought there were some... clashes of personalities."

He raised his eyebrow in what he hoped was a show of seemingly genuine mystification regarding her point, but her look was knowing and he shifted uncomfortably, mentally berating himself for so obviously giving himself away. She smiled.

"I might be wrong," she continued. "I didn't really get the chance to be around people much in Candlekeep, so forgive me if I'm completely wrong. I do want everyone to be happy together, though -- or as happy as is possible. I wouldn't like to think that there are some undercurrents of ill-feeling anywhere." She paused, and he wondered if she was giving him the opportunity to speak and make his case, or if she was simply searching for her own words to continue. "I'm sure we could cope without anyone who didn't fit in," she said quietly, her eyes seeming to bore into him as her gaze remained relentless. "Would you really be so worried about us having one person less?"

"We will already be without Garrick," he pointed out. "It would be foolish to consider weakening ourselves further, needlessly, when we know we will only be heading out to face stronger foes." And, he noted to himself, what if one person meant the difference between you becoming injured or not? The battle that day had scared him; stumbling across such competent foes -- not mere gibberlings or gnolls -- and witnessing the disarray they'd inflicted on the already haphazard group had brought to the fore some of the feelings he'd been desperately trying to bury. The fact that he cared, very much, about Nuila's safety -- about her continued existence. If these were improved by travelling with Ajantis and Garrick and Tiax, then... then it was a small price to pay for his own peace of mind regarding her well-being.

She was nodding thoughtfully, seemingly appeased by his words. "You would tell me if there was anything you thought I should know, though... wouldn't you?" He looked at her quizzically, and she smiled. "I mean, if you stop enjoying our company, if you find it more a chore to be with us..." Her voice trailed off.

He wondered what had triggered that -- fear of being left alone, again? She'd lost her father figure, and had only the girl she saw as a sister still with her. She'd allowed one personality difference to come between her and her father's friends, and seemed distressed to think it would happen again -- but this time between him and another of their companions. Was his presence so important to her?

He sighed. "Yes," he said eventually. He noticed the look of relief cross her face. "Yes, I would tell you." And should he tell her, now? How the day had reminded him of feelings he thought long buried away; how he could travel with anyone in her company, as long as he was comfortable with the relationship he had with her... the emotional attachment he'd been unable to fight from developing... "Nuila, I..."

He was interrupted at that point by Imoen; the young girl having stumbled across some of his older spells that she couldn't follow on her own, her voice calling out to him completely oblivious to the fact he was already in conversation with the elven girl. He apologised to Nuila as he rose, offering her a slight and stiff bow before he made his way over to sit at pink-hair's side, settling down beside her as he glimpsed at the book.

She had found a charm spell, but didn't know what some of the more intricate runes meant. He began to explain them to her, informing her that it would be a long time before she could fully understand the power, while trying to stick to as simple language as possible. She listened intently to her lesson in magical theory, but Xan had to concentrate hard on his words, trying to push the previous conversation fully from his thoughts -- and the memory of how his usually firm grasp on his magical abilities had been weakened because of the fear he had for another's safety.

All the time, Xan felt Nuila watching him from a table away; her green eyes never moving from his form as she sat in the wake of his unfinished sentence.