A/N: Starting a new three-chapter story arc with all our favourite elements. Tell me what you think, do it please ya.

Well, crap.

Nothing good ever comes in the mail. Not a damn thing. We get so much we have our own dedicated courier from Beregost. It's mostly oddball requests, or pleas, or fan mail. I look out for official seals, and so does Jaheira. Well, there was one that day. It was an 'invitation' to do a sermon by the Lady's House in Baldur's Gate, from Chanthalas Ulbright. Not only did it have her stamp, but Duke Belt's. It wasn't so much an invitation as...well, a summons. Come here, talk.

Gee, well, when you put it like that...

I had eight days to prepare. I grumbled to myself, and headed to the locker, and started to clean up my mace. Jaheira came by and sat down beside me, and picked up a piece of her plate, running a rag over it.

"Are we going somewhere, my love?"

"Baldur's Gate. I have a sermon in a week, apparently."

"Says who?"

"Belt, and the Lady's House."

"Great. Another epic public speaking engagement. Here's an idea: instead of polishing up up steel, why don't you write the damn thing?"

I shook my head. I didn't want to write it at the moment. I needed to get my head straight, first. Hell, I didn't even have a topic.

"I'm pretty intent on not dying on the way, Jaheira."

She stood up, kissed me on the head, and took the mace out of my hand.

"Go work, my love."

I sighed, and walked over to my office. It was upstairs, a room where I kept my books and my letters. It had a desk, some parchment, and some quills. I sat down, and thought about everything I had been through, and tried to come up with an idea.

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I first noticed the strangeness when we walked through Beregost. People stopped and stared. I mean, yeah, that happens sometimes. But everyone did. There was something in the air...excitement, I think. Trepidation? Anyways. Jaheira and I walked through Beregost, and people kindly stepped aside for us. That was strange. More polite nods and quiet murmurs of 'Dawnbringer' than usual too. But we were most of the way into town when the real strangeness began.

Marl was talking to a merchant, haggling. His eyes opened wide when he saw me, and he balled an enormous, meaty right hand...and he touched it to his left shoulder.

"Strength and honor, Dawnbringer."

That caught me right off guard. I hadn't seen him in awhile, so I returned the gesture somewhat awkwardly.

"Blessings of the Morninglord on you, Marl."

"I can't make it to the sermon this year, I'm afraid."

I nodded, and shook his hand.

"It's alright."

"I have to get this damn...well, you know how it is. Safe travels, Dawnbringer."

Jaheira looked at me. I shrugged helplessly, kept walking. By the fountain, a guardsman saluted me as well, the same salute as Marl's. Right hand to left breast.

"Strength and honor, Dawnbringer."

I had no clue where this was coming from. I looked at Jaheira, raised an eyebrow as best I could. She shrugged as well, and I gave her a playful shove. We kept walking.

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I read while we walked, more of Petrine's book. Jaheira didn't say a word, just kept lookout. Sometimes, I called out to her, asking if she remembered something or someone. She would nod, or give out a short answer. Not very conversational, for some reason. I shrugged to myself after awhile, and kept reading.

"You lost your brother early on, I hear.

It was the first time I met the Hero, during that expedition. The Hero avenged him, brought his body back. You'd think a thing like that would keep you from adventuring, but I couldn't put it down too long. Before a month had passed, I was fighting bandits and helping the druids in Cloakwood. Sarevok's men left quite a mess.

Do you know what happened after he left Baldur's Gate?

I'm not entirely sure, to be entirely honest. I shook his hand at Wyrm's Crossing that night, but I had been in the cups. Then I started hearing the stories.

The stories?

That he was a Son of Murder. I cursed him. He always seemed like a virtuous man to me, and to a lot of people. Something to strive for. But for him to be revealed as an abomination like that? It disheartened me. I worked as a caravan guard awhile, got laid out on the route south to Nashkel. That's when I heard more about him.

How long were you in Nashkel?

About a month. My wounds got infected, took awhile to heal. But still, I heard tales of his heroism. Amnian traders swapped tales with me. I told them about what he had done around the Gate, and they told me about the circus. I had a lot of time on my hands, so I thought about it. He's been nothing but good to everyone, so what right did I have to hate him?

Did you know Coran?

Of course. He split off from the Hero's posse after they toppled the Iron Throne. We hunted awhile before he headed south, following our old friend there. I saw him a few times after that, too. I wasn't surprised when him and ol' One Eye came looking for me.

Old One Eye?

That's my nickname for Rill. Slaver plucked out one of his eyes. He followed Coran awhile, then came back to Cloakwood. Said he just couldn't leave it, in the end. Became second of the guys cleaning the place out of wyverns and slavers and stuff. Good guy.

Tell me about what happened with Rill and Coran.

Well, I was out looking for deer, not much luck. I end up at this noble's cabin, which we used as sort of a base for the people trying to make things better, right? I'm sitting down, eating my oatmeal, and suddenly Rill bursts in the door. Everyone looks up - there were a bunch of other people there, too, including Kivan, who I didn't know till after- and Rill looks at who's there. He nods, and just says "Grab your armor. The Hero of Baldur's Gate needs us."

What happened then?

Well, I grabbed my bow and my cloak, shoveled another spoonful of oatmeal in my face, and headed for the door, same as everyone else. I heard the Horn outside, saw Rill with it in his hand.

The Horn?

This big wyvern's horn. Tells everyone to meet at the cabin as fast as possible.

And then?

Well, someone handed Rill a battle standard, and there we were. About half an hour later, A mage was there, someone I had never seen before, and she was concentrating on tearing a hole in the world..."

"Huh," I sort of murmured to myself, trying to remember the name of the person Petrine was interviewing.

"What, beloved?"

"Jaheira, what's the name of the kid who's brother we brought back in Cloakwood?"

"Tiber, I think. The waif wrote of him?"

"Yeah."

"What happened to him, do you think?"

"Lathander only knows."

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Jaheira smirked as we circled around the Friendly Arm Inn. I waved politely to the guards.

"Do you not want to rest here, just for old time's sake?" she asked, staring up at the huge stone walls. I thought about it a moment.

"Do we have enough time?"

"Perhaps, you are due to speak the day after tomorrow."

"Alright."

We doubled back to the main entrance, where the guards nodded to me again. Strength and honor, they said to me. I nodded in return, turned to my wife.

"What the hell is with the sudden outbreak of politeness?"

"No idea, whelp. But they seem to be serious about it."

We made small talk over some chicken and mashed potatoes, had a few beers, and went upstairs. Everyone was quiet, giving us the odd stare. Not in a bad way, mind you, but still. We felt uncomfortable. We were taking off our kit for the day, right? I'm stripping off my bracers and Jaheira's taking off her boots, and she says out of nowhere:

"Will you show me what your speech says, whelp?"

She says it in a conversational tone, and that means trouble right off the bat. She's trying to make it sound like nothing's wrong, which means something's bothering her.