Author's Note: Well, I'm back. So sorry for the tremendously long wait, I've been rather busy this semester, and have been trying to keep my head above water. I will do my utmost to update once a week, on Wednesdays.

That said, I will be heading off to California come this Monday, so the next update won't be for two weeks, unless I can get internet at our hotel, in which case I might just be able to post another chapter. I'm not entirely satisfied with the flow of this one, and so I may edit it a bit in the future, but I told myself it was time to update the thing, and stop making excuses before you guys thought I died or something.

In any case, enjoy the chapter. A note on the non-English included:

"Al. Nindol morfethen klezn medose."- "Well. This complicates things."

"Ciaya, falyth."- "Come, servant."

-----

Unpleasant Reunions

T'riss popped up on the ship, ducking as a crossbow bolt flies through the air. "By the Lady! Can't you people ever have a peaceful moment?" The teifling rolled her eyes. It seemed that their little group ran into trouble no matter where they went. "Shael! Get those horses below! Kerth, tell your Captain to set sail, I'll get the others. Flit's with them, so we'll be back in a jiffy."

She disappeared from the ship again, leaving a startled Kerth to carry out her orders. Shael was more used to these types of displays, and calmly took the horses below.

T'riss appeared directly behind Koravel and Endellion, and grabbed hold of their tunics, "Sorry, Gentlemen, I'm going to have to remove your suspects here. Thank you."

The soldiers started forward, but before they got more than a step, Koravel, Endellion, and T'riss seemed to fall backwards into the ground, and vanish, as if they had been swallowed up.

The captain cursed, and headed for the docks at top speed.

****

T'riss piked the pair, and herself, back to the far side of the deck, so that the bolts are less likely to hit them. "I'll take this, thank you." She snatches Koravel's arm from Endellion and places it on the stub where it belongs. Quickly chanting a cantrip, the flesh knits back together, although the arm is still lifeless. Working with quick efficiency, she pulls a wand off her belt and zaps Koravel's arm with a beam of negative energy. "There we go, that should suffice. At least for now. I've got a Regeneration Scroll which should help some more that I can dig out once we're no longer under aerial assault." She ducks as another bolt flies in, "Bane's Balls!"

Flit darts in and lands on T'riss' shoulder, chattering excitedly. "Easy, Flit, I can't understand you; you're thinking too--wait what? You've got to be kidding me..."

Her eyes dart to Koravel, "I hope the Kethryl you know isn't the Kethryl I know, and if he is, he's not your father. My odd reunion quota has been met for the day."

Kerth pulls a wand out of his robes, points it at his attackers and blasts them with a fireball. "Captain! You heard the lady!" The captain nods and barks out new orders and the ship rather quickly leaves port, obviously aided by magic.

More assassins appear quickly, but with Kerth's distraction, they are too late; as the ship is already out of the reach of their crossbows. They quickly disappear again when the guards arrive.

Endellion can't help herself when T'riss snatches the arm off of her

"Hey! You could have..." she sighs and shakes her head, knowing it is pointless to argue.

She turns around and then suddenly shrieks.

"They shot me in the arse!" She reaches around and pulls a crossbow bolt out from her backside.

Seeming as they are now out of range of the crossbow fire Shree runs back to the dockside of the ship and at the rapidly disappearing assassins.

"You're lucky I'm stuck on this damned boat else I'd go back there, get you to kiss my backside better and then," she shouts even louder as most of them have gone and the ship is moving far quicker than she thought a ship should, "I'd rip the heart out of the one shot me! With MY BARE HANDS!"

As she shouts, venting her anger, the seagulls flying overhead echo her fury - shrieking and diving around the ship while the horses echo Shree too. They snort and paw at the deck throwing their heads. Impi even rears when the half-elf slams her fist against the rail in rage.

With a 'huff' Shree feels a little better, if a little stupid due to her less than impressive threat, and heals herself before turning to Kerth. The seagulls and horses also quiet down with her.

"Anyway," she says, her polite and pleasant self is back it seems, "Thank you for keeping me from getting burnt, but I do have one little question. They were shooting at us why?"

All the while she has an ear on T'riss' conversation, also wanting to know who this Kethryl person was.

Kerth simply throws her an amulet. It is disc shaped piece of metal. On one side there is a Z carved into it and on the reverse is a fist with rays of light squeezing out from it. Well-known indeed to Shree, it is the symbol of Bane.

She caught the amulet and recognized it instantly.

She looked up, her eyes narrowing dangerously but something in her glare hints she is thinking very hard about something. Eventually her eyes flick to Azrael and a hand that had been on the hilt of her sword lifts off it as she chooses to wait to hear more before retaliating

"No longer?" she simply asks and offers the amulet back.

Kerth accepts the amulet, and pockets it. "I am a Dawnbringer now, though I suppose I will always be a blade of Bane to those who continue to follow me."

Shree inclines her head.

"I'd be dead by now if you were not a follower of Lathander," she says quietly, it's a statement rather than anything else. "But how does one start as an assassin for Bane and then...?" She suddenly looks contrite. "I'm sorry, I assume too much and it's not my place to ask awkward questions."

Thinking she may have touched upon a sore subject she looks to Azrael and Kerth.

"Do you have any idea what we are doing in Baldur's Gate? I have... friends in places but something tells me you do not need my help."

Shael cannot help but burst into laughter at Shree's outburst. She continues laughing as she takes all the horses into their holding areas and is still grinning when she comes up.

"Aye it's a pity Koravel's no longer a Paladin, or he could give you a good lay on hands, Endellion!" Her eyes glitter with wicked humor.

T'riss looks at Kerth curiously, but doesn't comment or inquire. More than one man has led a good life after a bad one, and she's not one to question or begrudge unless it causes problems. Besides, she's still curious as to Koravel's knowledge of "Kethryl".

Shael, though, has no such compunctions. "Hmm...Banite to Lathandarite. I've heard of odder things. Ain't too comforting but ye seem to be good enough for me."

Endellion raises an eye brow at Shael and slowly smiles.
"Who said Koravel needed to be a Paladin to lay his hands on me?" she chuckles wickedly.

Koravel grimaces as the arm is reattached, though a chuckle escapes his lips at Shree and Shael's banter.

"If ya really need someone to, I'd be more than happy t' make that wound all better." He winks at her before turning to meet T'riss' curious gaze, and answering her query.

"Nay, Kethryl is not my father. He was a fellow merc that was supposed t' help me take out that lich. No luck. He abandoned me as soon as we got inside. As t' whether ya know him... rather thin tan elf, green eyes normally, blue when he's mad, dual short swords and one sweet looking bow. Sound familiar?"

T'riss smiles wryly, "Yah, that's Kethryl alright. I gave him that bow, actually. I wasn't a huge fan of the thing, it's a bit bulky to carry about." The look in her eyes, however, belays her words. It is obvious that she was close friends with Kethryl, at least at one point.

Shael leans against the deck railing smiling, "So anyone here have a tithe to give to Umberlee yet? She so loves your breakfasts and I know neither T'riss nor I shall be giving ours up."

Kerth looked rather annoyed with Shael. "If people would just stop giving that hag offerings, she would die. She needs us more than we need her."

Kerth angrily went over to stand beside the rail, staring out over the waters. The captain seems to be the only one who isn't worried about the insult to Umberlee, the rest of the crew exchanged fearful glances.

Koravel shrugged off the worries of the crew, a dead person cannot drown. However, since he was looking at the crew, and not the water, he failed to notice an elf, dressed in green chainmail, pull himself over the side of the ship.

The elf quickly slipped a robe on over his armor, and slipped downstairs, it was almost as if he was invisible. He caught a glimpse of T'riss as she stood, looking out to sea, and his eyes narrowed. "Al. Nindol morfethen klezn medose."

Shael grins at the priest's preaching and at the sailor's unease, "It was merely a joke. What better way is there to diffuse fear than with laughter?" It certainly doesn't seem that the potential of a goddess' disfavor is enough to shake her joviality.

T'riss' ears twitch as Flit chitters at her excitedly. "Mind him." Her eye turns, wondering, and she idly swings her tail in her hand, watching the waves as they ebb and flow.

****

Only a few minutes ahead of the party, two ships are side-by-side, one displaying the flags of a Neverwinter Merchant ship, the other; a black flag featuring skull and crossed bones, which makes their intentions rather apparent.

The Merchant ship had taken heavy damage and the crew were all up on deck fighting for their lives. One of them looks out of place, his large build gives him an intimidating presence, and his long dark brown hair combined with unshaven face give him a feral appearance.

He wears large leather boots and has leather bracers around his wrists, his loose fitting clothes are earthy colors, but even the natural greens and brows fail to hide their obviously dirty and torn appearance. On his large, thick leather belt hang several pouches, and a large leaf green cloak covers his back. Despite his rough looks the man still has a fairly friendly appearance, even in the midst of the chaos of battle.

As a particularly fearsome looking Half-orc pirate approaches him, the human Druid has the strength to lift him several feet into the air and drop him again, causing the pirate to fall over, stunned. Pleased that he had not killed the pirate; only removed him from the fighting, he continued, aiding and disarming, hoping that help would arrive soon.

****

Endellion rolls her eyes as Shael and Kerth both mention Umberlee.

"Oh great... that's just asking for it," she grumbles. "It's better just to keep your mouth shut."

When she hears Kerth's comments about the Zhentarim she looks around at Azrael.

"We're being hunted by the Zhent, a group I have had many fall ins with and he's right. Who knows how many there are, not even the Harpers themselves have any idea, or so hear-say goes. But your friend seems to add to the problem, which makes matters more interesting." She nods, accepting the mess she assumes she has unknowingly wandered into. "I only hope Kerth is more of a help than a hindrance and from his background... I'd say he will be... hopefully."

She sighs and subconsciously shakes her hair covering her ears as the wind has tucked it back behind. Leaning on the deck rails next to Koravel she grins happily.

"South," she says. "Home... ish." A sad little glimmer tints her smile and she gets off the rail. "I'm going to go looking for the kitchens, find something to celebrate the beginning of the trip. And you can check out my 'wounds' any time you wish," she says playfully to him and taps his nose lightly with a finger.

With a seductive smile, she's pretty good at it being a 'mild' follower of Sharess, she saunters off with a wink that could melt the heart of even the most hardened of men. A whistle of approval escapes the lips of a crewman and Endellion grins at him as she passes on her way down into the ship but stops suddenly, looking out to sea and spying the ships in the distance.

"Captain!" she shouts. "Look up ahead!"

She runs up to the bow. "It's flying Neverwinter's colors!" she calls back, as she turns to the captain. "We can't just leave them.... please!"

The captain glanced at Kerth, he was, after all, paying for this little trip. Kerth nodded. "We cannot just leave these poor people to their fate!"

The captain nodded, and whirled, giving orders to his crew. They drew closer to the fight hurriedly. Koravel grinned. "A propah brawl this 'ere will be, I'ma thinkin'."

The half-elf leapt onto the enemy ship when the Dawn's Edge was close enough, and took the head off a startled pirate before he could so much as draw his weapon. The druid on board looked at him crossly. Every life was precious to him, but he wasn't going to argue that now. Especially not with someone whose sword weighed as much as he did.

The Dawn's Edge sailed close enough for the sailors to board the pirate ship. Most of them swung over immediately and begin fighting. Several of the sailors headed below as soon as they could clear a path, and set the hold of the ship so that it was ready to blow. From their actions, it was apparent they had done this several times before.

Koravel noticed what was going on. "Time to leave. Come on, you. Unless you want to be blown sky-high," he said, addressing the druid. The man nodded, and followed Koravel over the side, where, with a few powerful strokes, the two of them reached the Dawn's Edge. The sailors began to fall back, and the pirates gave a rousing cheer, and followed them over to the Edge. Their ship blew behind them before most of them could get across. The rest of the pirates lost heart at the destruction of their ship, and either surrendered, or were quickly and ruthlessly cut down.

The druid began to toss ropes to those that were still in the water, seemingly uncaring as to whether they were pirates or crewmen from the Dawn's Edge.

The captain gave orders to the rest of the crew. "All right, you scurvy dogs, get those men up on deck. Toss the pirates inta the hold, and make sure you tie 'em up good and tight. We can hang those who don't have enough rope to tie. Let's make sure our men are all up here safe and sound. Now get to it!"

The crew of the Dawn's Edge hastened to obey their captain, hastily dragging the survivors on board, and tossing the pirates into the hold. Those men who were wounded, they left out on deck, and the druid went among them, using his healing magics, as sparingly as he could. He didn't want to exhaust himself too quickly. Koravel watched, but was unable to help, as his magics had deserted him when he had fallen.

The ex-paladin's eyes weren't the only ones on the druid, however.

Endellion eyed the man with trepidation from her vantage point in the bow of the ship. She seems frightened by something, and her large eyes regard the man with distrust.

Shael had been in the hold tending to Fafnir, (who was none too fond of ships), and comes up at the end of the fighting, "What the blazes was going on..." She quickly takes appraisal of the situation, "Oh." Her eyes alight on the tall healer and look appreciative, and not for his healing, as she studies him. She smiles slowly and looks up...

To see T'riss looking up from the same study of the same man. Shael arches an eyebrow and T'riss smiles and puts up her hands. T'riss mouths, "I give, far too tall for me." Shael laughs and they both turn to tend the wounded with their dry healer's kits.

"Heya, Druid!" Shael throws an extra kit to the druid when he looks up. She allows a hint of fire show in her eyes as she briefly meets the druid's own, but quickly quenches it and returns to her healing.

****
T'riss bandages the wounded with a mindless ease. A thousand battles, a million wounds...after a while it doesn't require much thought. She's busy considering what Flit told her.

Flit.

?

Find him. Don't let him know.

^_^

****

Koravel laughed as the druid went back to work, this time using his healing kits, again on all that needed his care, indiscriminate of whether they were pirate or crewmen. "Steady on there, mate. Mayhap we ought ta take care o' our own first, eh? They were trying t' take your ship, after all."

The druid ignored him, and continued to tend to the wounded men.

****

Kethryl slipped further back into the shadows as the druid comes on board. Great. More bodies to possibly find him. This would be absolutely perfect if T'riss wasn't on board, or he hadn't been specifically told to take her alive. The power he carries with him would be enough to blow the ship to pieces, but he would forfeit the pay if the teifling dies. The fact that she once was his comrade doesn't even enter the equation. Sitting as still as he can, he ponders what to do.

His distraction makes it a simple task for Flit, invisible as she is, to slip into his hair.

****

Koravel laughs as he notices Shael's look at the druid. It is good to be among friends, however short a time he has left, he thinks wryly. "Eventually, I'm just going ta fall apart all together," he mutters.

Shree finishes up quickly then heads straight for the kitchens, asking and getting a bottle of rum.

Slipping back on deck, careful to avoid everyone she heads for the bow, uncorking the bottle with her teeth and taking a goodly swig. She settles down, keeping a low profile, shooting a dark glance at the druid every so often. Alcohol solved many problems.

****

Kethryl swore under his breath as he remembered that T'riss never traveled alone. There was always this fuzzy-looking creature... "Blast! Flit!" This mission was rapidly going to the dogs. There was no way he could cloak himself, using his power, without letting everyone within a mile know where he was. He stayed silent, hoping against hope that the morph wouldn't find him, or that he could quiet it if it did. She always had liked him. Perhaps he could use this to silence her. Permanently.

****

T'riss freezes in the middle of bandaging up one of the merchants. Her head is cocked as if listening to something and her eyes go unfocused.

!!!! !!!!! !!!! !!!!!

What?! Flit WHAT?!

HERE Bad! death

Besheba's balls....

?

Nevermind, Flit. Give me a lock...

here

Got it. Watch him.

The merchant looks at her more oddly than he was previously, (after all, she is a tiefling), "Miss..." T'riss shakes herself, "It's alright, sir. My apologies." She quickly finishes the wrap and ties it off.

Ghosting over the deck, she bends over behind Shael and whispers in her ear, "We have a problem. Dangerous stowaway. I'm going to take care of it. Flit will come get you if I need help."

T'riss vanishes from the deck. No one noticed her leave.

In the hold, she appears noiselessly, Sinking into the Shadows and slipping into the edges of the Shadow Plane, she blinks a few times...

And a heated body shows in her infravision. Quick analysis shows it to be Kethryl.

Another quick jump and she stands a few feet out of his reach. She drops a light stone and simultaneously throws a special orb of substance at Kethryl. It smacks against him and explodes, setting free a thick viscous substance that attaches him to the wall. It magically expands out within a breath and encases him in a skin-tight nigh-impenetrable cocoon against the ship wall.

T'riss presses her sword against his throat, it pulses as it feels his blood flow beneath it, and holds her buckler tight against her body, protecting her organs if he was to somehow burst free. "Every instinct tells me to slit your throat now, Kethryl. Every experience, every bit of knowledge I have, tells me to end it now. Flit has let me know everything I need to. But because I'm not just some assassin, I'm going to give you one chance to tell me why I shouldn't do so. To explain what the hell you are doing on this ship."

Kethryl reacts instinctively. But as fast as he is, the teifling is faster. He cannot get his illusion up in time to make a difference. It is hovering behind T'riss, worse than useless. His smile, however, is cold and heartless. The tan elf has changed since she last saw him, and it has obviously not been for the better.

"Hello to you, too, T'riss. Finally giving inta that demon nature of yours, eh? Just gonna slit ol' Kethryl's throat in cold blood? Tsk, tsk." Staring into her eyes, the first hint of doubt flashes across his own. "Fine, then. I'm here because I was contacted that there was a lot of money to be gained by taking out the walking corpse." The lie leaves his lips effortlessly, with the ease of many uses. "I didn't imagine that you would be on board too." He smiles as the second lie in as many seconds passes his lips, confident in his ability, and disdaining of the teifling. A sneer curls the upper corner of his mouth. "Though it's an added bonus that the Banite is on board. They make a lot of enemies, you know. Rich enemies, if ya get my meaning. I could split it with ya, if ye'd kindly cut me out of these bonds." He nods at the stuff covering his arms. "What'ya say? It's over a million gold in total for the both of them. Say, 300,000 for ye? I did do all the work of tracking 'em here."

****

Koravel slips into the kitchens after Shree, and pulls out a bottle of his own. Draining the entire thing in one go, he uncorks another and seats himself beside her. "Ya all right? Ye look a bit tired..."

Endellion looks at Kor tiredly but offers him an amused smile at the speed in which he drinks

"Remind me never to give you a bottle of something good, it'd be wasted on you" she grins and takes another swig "What I would give for something with a bit of flavour..." she grimaces

"I'm used to only healing me," she explains. "Doing it to other people... it kinda sucks the life out of me after a while. That and I'm a bit worried about something when we get to Baldur's Gate. With the Zhent being involved I'm afraid that..." she pauses and looks at Koravel. "I suppose it would hurt to tell you. I work for the Harpers and when we get to Baldur's Gate I'm going to have to tell someone about all this Zhent activity. Knowing them, they already know everything and have an actual agent already picked to take my place with this group... folk are right to call us 'Meddlers'. I'm just a scout, or message carrier if it's important, nothing more than that as it's what I'm 'good' at - contacts and places, that's my 'thing' I suppose. Plus a few other things..." she adds with some embarrassment. "Anyway I can't deny it makes sense to have someone a little higher up the chain of command around, I can't blame them," she looks quite miserable but brighten up when something catches her eye.

"Ah ha! Brandy!!!" she gets up and grabs the bottle. "Now this is worth drinking and until we get to Baldur's Gate I've got nothing to worry about because there is nothing I can do. So....." She gives Koravel a wicked little smile, her initial sadness and fatigue now gone. "Let's go hide on deck, watch Shael eat that druid and share this bottle while we're at it. Unless you have plans that is."

Koravel smiles at Shree. "That would be a wonderful plan. And since you did 'hire' me for this mission..." He looks directly at her. "Where you go, I go. You're not getting away from me now." He grabs her hand, and the two sweep upstairs, and carry out their plan.

****

Shael sidles up to the Druid after the wounded are cared for, "So, Druid..." She walks a circle around him, judging him up close much like a buyer judges a horse. She stops in front of him and looks him boldly in the eye, "What's your name?"

****

T'riss raised her dagger threateningly, easily seeing through the lie. "You had better—"

She was interrupted quite suddenly by a loud pop next to her, as something shifted planes. She leapt back, blade at the ready, but lowered it when she saw who it was. "Lovely. I bet I know who you've come from. Quite a day for reunions."

The imp impatiently dropped a letter, which T'riss caught. "Hurry, hurry. Read it. I must take answer back to master."

T'riss ignored the imp, turning back to Kethryl. She studies him carefully, looking appraisingly into his eyes. The layers of calm and bardic cheer strip away and all that's left is the cold calculating stare of an assassin...an Assassin who's been plying her trade in one way or another for centuries.

"Why would someone hire you to kill the corpse...if I sent someone to do it, I'd send a priest or a ranger who could still cast healing spells. Not one who's obviously given in to his darker nature...That and I know your capabilities and you're far beyond the corpse; it's beneath you, and if I learned one thing about you during our little adventure is you have more pride than sense."

She flashes her teeth in an unfriendly smile, "Why don't you try again, Kethryl?"

Not removing her eyes from Kethryl, she speaks to the Imp, "I have a feeling it's going to be a while, Imp. You're more than welcome to stay and watch; things might get bloody if he doesn't speak..."

Nothing in her eyes is reminiscent of T'rissiira Halidor. She's fallen into "Catwalk"...a ruthless if honorable assassin working the Cage and the Planes for her slavemaster. She's "Tiefling", assassin and entertainer to drow. If Tymora has compunctions on the darker side of her Hand, then she's not showing it now.

T'riss touches Flit's mind and connects through it to Shael. "Shael...no one comes down."

Above deck, Shael keeps her smile on the Druid, but internally turns to ice. The timbre of T'riss' mind...She thinks,"Uthgar! not again..."

The imp gets angry, flittering down and impatiently nudging at T'riss hand, which is closed on the letter. "No, no. Master says you read now, give him answer."

T'riss sneers. "You can wait, or your master- Daggoth- he can come himself."

The imp gets really angry now; he does not like her preventing him from performing his duty. "Master not come for mere mortal! Master really powerful now. Master cannot spare time. Master send Loki with message, Loki deliver, lady tiefling accept or master sends bigger thing to give message!" the little creature is furious now.

T'riss is unfazed by the creature's wrath. Kethryl watches in amusement. "Tell your Master that I've got an old enemy of his in my clutches that isn't talking. I'm sure he'll want to come himself. Now pike off, I'm busy."

The imp appears to be about to attack T'riss head on, but he suddenly vanishes in mid-strike.

A few seconds later, what at first seems like a ghost appears. If you look closer you can see that it is a magical image of a humanoid male. He is wearing black robes with gold trim, and a hood. The only thing you can see inside it is two glowing red eyes, and out of the sleeves hang two large claws, wreathed in unholy fire and shadow magic.

Daggoth walked around T'riss with his claws behind his back. "You obviously do not understand the duties of a god, even a minor one. And why you were so rude to poor Loki? That is unlike you. What has changed?" The apparition shrugged, dismissing the question as unimportant. "No matter. I do not have time to waste. All I ask is that you deliver the elfling to my priests waiting on the docks of Baldurs Gate, alive. I would like to show him my gratitude for attempting to have me killed. I am sure you would prefer not to kill him, though I admit it would not pain me greatly if you did. Do you agree?" he stops, waiting for T'riss' answer.

T'riss still doesn't take her eyes off Kethryl, but there's no way that Daggoth could avoid seeing the look in them. "Nothing's changed, Cutter, but I'm rather busy." She thinks for a moment, "If you think your followers can hold him without letting him escape, give me a lock and I'll take him there now."

Daggoth chuckles. "I can do one better. It is merely the docks outside of the temple sector, I'm sure you have been there before. The priests will be waiting."

Kethryl sneered at the thing. "Rather petty, is it not, Daggoth? That a god would come all this way merely to take revenge on a mortal?"

Daggoth ignored him and leaned close to T'riss' ear, speaking in barely a whisper. "The temple sector. Deliver him at the Drunken Rat Inn. My followers will be waiting. Remember. Deliver him, and you shall have a great reward."

T'riss pressed her blade tightly against Kethryl's throat, letting him know she is aware of his movements.

Daggoth vanished with a final, hollow laugh.

And Kethryl made his move.

****

The druid seems surprised that barbarian is talking to him. "Name?" he says, his voice sounds more like a growl, "Names speak of cities, though the wild elves who raised me call me Baenlyn, humans call me Norsan, choose what you will..." he says, his voice is not unfriendly but it is fairly alarming.

He stands up and looks around, the wounded now all dealt with and some measure of balance returned to the ship he looks around for a comfortable place to sit... or stand, finding no available seating.

Shael isn't put off by his growling voice, or his disdain for the trappings of the city. "Being human, then, I'll go with Norsan." She looks about at the wounded he's tended, "You're a fine healer, by the way. Pleasure meeting you, Norsan." She saunters off and "nonchalantly" sits on the hatch that leads into the hold. Come on, T'riss...get it over with...

****

The elf's eyes glow a bright red, and T'riss started back with surprise. She muttered a word of command, and the cocoon wrapped himself around the elf entirely. Her sigh of relief was short-lived, however.

Kethryl projected his thoughts into her mind. "So, T'rissiira. This is what you have fallen to. We all have our demons, indeed, but you... you would deliver me over to a god of such evil? I simply can't have that."

Lines of orange appear at stress points on what is holding him and then suddenly, it ruptures and explodes outward, what is left of it hits T'riss in the face. A second word of command, and there are suddenly four Kethryls, all taunting T'rissiira. "Now what, O Mighty Teifling?" he asks. The elf shifts, and she no longer knows which is real, and which is merely an illusion.

T'riss smiles as the substance rolls off her face, harmless to her. "Time to roll the dice, then."

Trusting Tymora to aid her she grabs an illusion randomly. Sure enough, her Lady's favor holds and she grabs the correct form: Kethryl. Taken off guard by the immediate capture, Kethryl barely has time to react.

Immediately, T'riss begins widely and randomly Piking with great speed and frequency. While she's used to it herself, Kethryl is certainly not. Somehow, during the moments between jumps, T'riss manages to slap some of the substance back onto Kethryl. Not enough of it remains to encase Kethryl, but there is still enough to wrap around and pin his arms to his body.

The elf flairs wildly, and he is not entirely powerless. His weapons found the teifling's body more than once during the course of their piking. T'riss felt the blades, but nothing was going to stop her now.

They finally arrive out in front of The Drunken Rat and, sure enough, there are a group of cowled figures waiting in the shadows of the inn.

Taking no chances, T'riss sharply pronounces a single word and jabs Kethryl's leg with her finger. Pain blossoms in Kethryl's already pike-sick body and shoots throughout his leg. T'riss has internally ruptured Kethryl's major femoral blood vessels and left a small channel for them to leak out of. If he's not healed, the elf will bleed out.

She lifts him with an unnatural strength by the back of his belt and carries him toward the cowled figures "Lay your spell, and fast. If you don't want him to die, then heal him too." She presses a dagger against Kethryl's back where his kidneys lie.

Hours of mindless bickering, betrayal, and aggravation come to a head.

T'riss has had enough.

Unfortunately for the teifling, Daggoth is not the only god interested in the tan elf's fate.

An otherworldly voice echoes softly on the wind around her. "Ciaya, falyth."

T'riss can barely hear the whisper, but the effects are perfectly clear. A flash of white illuminates the area, and Kethryl, with a final smirk at his would-be captors, vanishes. A mocking laugh floats over the air, followed by the elf's voice. "Too late, pretty teifling, far too late. While you were busy piking around with me, your friends are going to learn how to swim." A grim chuckle fades away on the night air, and Kethryl is gone.

The teifling's curses follow him into the night.

****

At the ship, in the kitchens, in an otherwise harmless box of ale, a grim-looking device sits inside one of the bottles. Every now and then, a whisper of a word could be heard, if one were listening closely. The whispers are getting louder.

And the elf had left nothing to chance. In the cargo hold, a fire was blazing.

****

The sudden stillness of the boat had not gone unnoticed to the Druid; he could feel the air around him growing warm.

"Fire..." he said simply. He looked over at the land that he could now see from here, easily within his swimming reach, but the others, well, he was not so sure about them. Best to let them know.

"Fire!" he said, a little more loudly this time, "Fire below-decks!" he shouts, attempting to get the captain's attention.

****

Kethryl lands on the shore near a temple, dropped off there by whatever otherwordly power had picked him up. He slipped inside the temple, chuckling to himself. By the time they are done dealing with the fire, the real threat will blow them all to pieces. Teeny tiny pieces, floating hither and thither on the winds. It was awfully windy today, wasn't it? That naughty tiefling and her bloody piking around...

The attendants on duty shake their heads at the elf's plight. They attempt to get him to lay down, but he continues to pace and mutter to himself.

****

Koravel looks up at the Druid's call, and smiles. He is sitting on the side of the boat, with Endellion, and doesn't even bother to rise. "Well, if it's a fire, I imagine ye can put it out, eh, big fella? Ya need some help, I'd be happy t' do whatever is needed."

Azrael seems calm despite the fact that the ship is on fire. But then, Azrael always seemed calm.

The crew however, quickly began to ferry water down to the cargo hold, forming a line to attempt to put out the fire.

The captain is furious. "By Umberlee's tits! Who in the nine hells set fire to my boat! I'll bet my entire ale stash it was that tiefling wench o' yours!" he takes a rather large axe from his belt and starts to search for T'riss.

****

T'rissiira's eyes blaze red and she curses loudly. She grabs one of Daggoth's followers and shakes him. Her nails have lengthened to claws and she nicks his skin through his tunic. "Could you have moved a little slower? I have a message for your god," she sneers the word, "If Shael dies, if my horses die, because he wanted Kethryl and couldn't bother to come get him himself, then he's going to learn just how much a god, especially a minor one, has to deal with when a Chosen comes knocking. Understand?"

She throws him back and Disappears.

T'riss begins to dance a dangerous line with Time and the Planes. With the help of a spell and an artifact she has, if she can hit just the right combination of Planes in just the right order, she can arrive a few minutes earlier than she normally would. One wrong move, though, and all is lost... including herself.

Shael runs to the horse hold, trying to calm the animals, when Flit comes flying in, squalling in alarum.

T'riss appears out of the air, drawn and haggard. Her skin is a far lighter blue than it should be, and there are shocks of white in her black hair. Blood seeps out of a multitude of wounds, caused by Kethryl's unerring accuracy with his blades, even in the midst of being piked all over Faerun.

Shael gasps in horror at her comrade's ragged appearance. "T'riss! Balls, what's--"

T'riss gasps out, "No time! Get the horses!" Shael grabs a handful of the horses' reins, fortunately all of them. T'riss gropes and catches hold of Liridor's tail and reaches for her innate teleportative magic.

She fumbles, and loses her focus, her mind realizing what was about to happen, as knowledge of the bomb is shouted at her by Tymora.

****

Kethryl slipped outside, without a word of explanation, far from being healed. He walked out to the shoreline, and smiled. The elf can see the boat from where he stood. Glancing up at the sun, he muttered to himself, "Too late, little teifling. Too late." Kethryl spread his hands, and a sadistic smile crossed his features. " Boom."

With a sound that could easily be heard from the shore, a full mile away, the aft end of the ship exploded upward in a spray of blood, wood, and cargo. Koravel is thrown into the sea, a plank of wood skewering his chest and spine, and making it nearly impossible to move, much less swim. The ex-paladin sank like a stone into the deep, his armor weighing him down, unable even to offer a final prayer, for his god had forsaken him long ago.