Jaheira watched the ghostly apparition of Durlag scuttering away down the corridor with a worried frown. Not about the dwarf lord himself. Doppelgangers took on his image to murder his family, then adopted his families' faces to try and murder him. In response, the dwarf lord went bonkers and overloaded the tower's defences, ironically preventing anybody from eradicating the doppelgangers. Pretty standard stuff for a seasoned adventurer.
No, she was concerned about the state of the party, and rightly so. Of course, this could never have been a long-term arrangement. Sooner or later the Harpers would send her and Khalid on another assignment. She had begun to harbour hopes, and drop hints in her letters to her contacts, that Arrow might be invited to join them as an associate. The girl was an intractable believer in the greater good rather than balance, which would bar her from ever becoming a true Harper. Yet Elminster had been known from time to time to informally acknowledge trusted allies who were not full members.
Then there was Xan who had made his wishes to go home clear from day one, and Rasaad… she was fond of the boy but the sooner he was packed off on a boat back to Calimport the easier it would be for Arrow. As for Viconia, Jaheira did not much care what happened to her. They had given her a chance and she had, in the Harpers' eyes, failed dismally. Certainly she had her uses, but her presence lowered the party reputation and she disrespected her authority while encouraging Xan to do the same.
That said, Durlag's Tower had already claimed the lives of two of their number, and they had not reached the end yet. The party did not have the luxury of splintering right here right now. In fairness Viconia had tried to patch things up by offering Arrow her… unconventional… perspective on romantic relationships. Perhaps reacting so strongly had been a mistake, though really, Arrow and Khalid? As her young ward would put it: "Ewww." Still, Jaheira was big enough to admit that it was their faction's turn to offer the olive branch.
"Khalid," she whispered discretely. "Go and talk to Xan. Try to patch things up, we need him on-side, especially with our thief dead."
Khalid nodded and strode to the back of the party where Xan was talking with Viconia. The cleric glared at him as he approached. Although she had no direct issue with Khalid, she was biased to regard any male as a sort of extension of his mate. This meant that all of the venom she had built up for Jaheira could just as readily be thrown his way. With a sneer, she detached herself from Xan and meandered over to Rasaad.
Without Montaron, their new method for dealing with the traps was to send the monk to detect them and set them off in the least dangerous way possible. Currently he was tossing bits of loose mortar at a silvery trip wire. Viconia slunk over like a friendly cat, complimenting his skills and smiling at him mainly, the others suspected, to piss off Arrow. The ranger retaliated by firing at the trip wire herself, activating a mini-tornado of flame, which only narrowly missed the pair. Viconia sprang back from the scorching heat, screeching something in drow that it was probably just as well Arrow couldn't understand.
"You must be l- looking forward to returning h- home," Khalid said to Xan conversationally, ignoring the heat on his face and leaving his wife to step once more between ranger and cleric.
"Is that a hint that you would like to get rid of me?" snapped Xan. Khalid, who had not expected so much open hostility right off-the-bat, struggled to reply through his stutter.
"N- n- n- not at-at a- a- all!" he managed. "Evereska is a b- beautiful city. You must m- miss it terribly."
"You have seen Evereska?" asked Xan, surprised. "What business had you that persuaded them to let you in? Normally our gates are barred to all but real elves."
"It is open to those who H- harp," said Khalid. He might have left it there, but there was something about Xan's use of the phrase 'real elves' that struck a nerve. His father had been fond of disparaging his mixed-race status too. In fact he had rather battered him around the head with it, whenever his arm got too tired from battering him literally. "I expect you will not have s- seen the areas we spend m- most time in though. They are o- o- off limits to non-Harpers."
"Did you come over here of your own accord, or on your wife's orders?" asked Xan bluntly.
"Erm…" said Khalid. He hesitated for too long and Xan's face darkened.
"Do not mistake us for friends," said Xan. "At best we are two men fated to die as companions at the heels of our mistresses. Perhaps it would be best to just leave it at that."
Khalid nodded and bit his lip. The rift was worse than perhaps his wife even realised. He hurried back to Jaheira to report, feeling Xan's sneer burning into the back of his skull. The oppressive atmosphere of this madman's dungeon was not inspiring anyone to behave rationally. Arrow raised her hands placatingly in response to Jaheira's instruction and left Viconia alone, but the look she gave her reminded him of the way Cat used to eye-up Minsc's hamster Boo. In fact the expressions on both their faces strongly suggested that this truce would prove temporary.
Progress through the tower had been aggravatingly slow even before the loss of Montaron. Tempers were running higher now and tiredness was setting in with a vengeance. Jaheira was reluctant to let them stop, however, until she was sure that they were all too exhausted to throw barbs at each other.
"I'm s- surprised Viconia would get this angry over a l- l- lowly male," Khalid whispered to his wife dryly. Jaheira allowed herself a half-smile.
"Those two were going to come to blows sooner or later," she whispered back. "Drow and Ilmatari values are completely incompatible. When it gets right down to it, Viconia sees Arrow as weak, and she detests weakness. Rasaad might have brought their pot to boil a bit faster, but it was already hanging over the fire."
The monk himself was focussed fiercely on the task in hand. Everything that had happened in this tower reinforced his resolve to return to the monastery in Calimport and never leave again. Viconia continued to hover, trying to provoke a response out of Arrow, but the ranger was annoyed with herself for taking the bait the first time and did not respond. She forced herself determinedly to walk with Edwin, to the wizard's mild irritation.
"There are mice squeaking down here," Arrow observed after they had been walking for a while.
"What?" snapped the wizard.
"Or rats," she mused. "Bit weird that. What do you suppose they find to eat?"
"Again, you disturb me!" Edwin huffed, adjusting his robes. "This is like having Alora back!"
"Not exactly like having Alora back I hope," replied Arrow with the ghost of a grin. She needed a distraction and she had been harbouring some curiosity about this. "A halfling and a Red Wizard of Thay. Bit unconventional that, wouldn't you say?"
"Haven't you alienated enough people for one day?" replied Edwin smugly. "And perhaps you are not so very different from Alora. You were friendly enough last night with all inhibitions removed. I could scarce escape your pawing."
This was a colossal exaggeration, but in the wake of her recent stream of humiliations, Arrow was becoming rather impervious to embarrassment.
"Do you really want to go there?" she asked, following up with a cough that sounded suspiciously like 'Rasaad.'
Edwin made a disgusted noise under his breath and gave Arrow a dismissive wave, which she ignored. He was a long way from convinced that the succubus had done nothing more than remove inhibitions. After all, Viconia had been cosying up to that dim-witted monk, while he himself was sleeping only a bedroll away! That made no sense to him at all, unless the demonic creature had also toyed with her wits and eyesight. Still, in order to distract the annoying ranger from this topic, he decided there was no harm in answering her inane queries about his most recent conquest.
"Alora was not a viable long-term prospect," said Edwin, pompously. "But she had some… skills. I assume you ask because you seek to emulate her. Perfectly understandable and if, for example, you wished to rub my feet or bring me my mead in the evenings I would not object. Even with your aesthetic limitations." He added under his breath, "She wears her hair like a man, but one can always close one's eyes."
Arrow grinned despite herself and shook her spikey head. He really might be an attractive man were it not for his personality, but the pontification and vanity rendered him utterly ridiculous.
"That is very generous of you," she replied, lip twitching. "But I cannot take you up on your offer. I am unworthy to be permitted to touch the feet of a man like you."
Most people would have recognized this instantly for the obvious sarcasm it was. Edwin, however, hailed from a culture where this was how commoners were actually expected to address their social superiors. Unless they wished to meet a firey end of course. He nodded at her, almost approvingly, leaving the ranger cracking up inside.
"A secret door," announced Rasaad. "Stand back."
He launched into a series of spinning kicks against the brickwork. His feet made solid dull thuds, disturbing nothing but a disgruntled spiderling from its web in the ceiling. The monk persisted on and on as though the wall had personally offended him in some way.
Xan felt a little guilty about his earlier taunting. Rasaad had not, after all, done anything to him or really done anything at all intentionally. He cast Knock under his breath against the wall and Rasaad's next kick seemed to cause the secret entrance to shift. The monk looked triumphant for a moment, but his satisfaction was short lived. He staggered backward coughing and reeling and a second later the rest of the party knew why.
"Urgh, what is that smell?" gasped Viconia, pulling her tunic over her nose.
"Did Montaron come back to life or something?" asked Arrow.
The source of the sulphuric eggy smell they had noticed when they first descended was revealed. They had been exploring the labyrinth for so long that they had grown accustomed to it and forgotten the stench was there. Now, however, it hit them like an acrid wall. The door revealed a huge natural cavern, lit by glowing pools of unnatural green slime.
"I suggest that we avoid treading in the ooze," said Rasaad. Arrow rolled her eyes. Once she had found his tendency to state the obvious endearing, but now it was starting to get on her nerves. In fact everything the monk did was getting on her nerves. Edwin observed the ranger's response with interest. If Xan and Viconia were one faction and Arrow and the Harpers another then that left Rasaad pretty much on his own.
"And a lone deer away from the herd is easy prey for a cheetah. Just don't let him see your spots," Edwin muttered to himself. He couldn't just go to Baldur's Gate after Dynaheir on his own. Not when she was under Freya's protection. From what he had heard about the Hero of Baldur's Gate, a head on assault would be suicide. Yet if he could worm his way into this party, when they travelled North to meet Freya they might get him close enough to stab the witch in her sleep and run. He didn't need the whole of Arrow's party to agree to take him with them, just the majority. Starting with Rasaad.
"Most impressive," he said.
"Thank you," said the monk lowering his head modestly, "But I deserve no compliments."
"No, you don't," thought Edwin, but for once he kept his internal dialogue to himself. Instead he asked, "Your goddess must be one of the more powerful ones to allow you to perform such feats. I confess, I know little about the deities of Faerun. My studies were focussed around controlling the weave."
As Edwin expected, Rasaad enthusiastically took on the task of filling this gap in his knowledge. In excruciating detail. Telling him about his ridiculous faith seemed to cheer up the bald-headed silverback no end. It took all of Edwin's self-control to maintain a façade of polite interest when really he was dying inside.
The cave was revolting, infested with ghouls and carrion crawlers. The monk expended some more of his uncomfortable swell of feelings battering them, pausing every now and then to explain to a bored Edwin the spiritual significance behind various moves.
"This is so interesting," the wizard lied. "A great pity we will not have time to discuss it in more depth once we leave this tower. Perhaps," he added with a cunning gleam in his eye, lifting his voice just a fraction so that the Sharran and the Ilmatari would hear him, "I underestimated the power of religion. I would be fascinated to hear more about the blessings of Selune."
Viconia and Arrow both looked at him, with that particular expression that is unique to cart salesmen and religious devotees when they spot a potential convert.
"Yes, they look at you like hungry dogs," he thought, satisfied. "That's enough for now. Don't overdo it or they will grow suspicious."
"Come you have to this cursed place? Fools you are, and doomed as well!" chuckled a voice. A very decayed ghoul lurched out of one of the caves. "Welcome to the damned. You will stay, yes you will. I guard the withered corpse of that fool Durlag because there is little else to do!"
"I've got a pack of cards if that's any help?" suggested Arrow.
"Who are you?" demanded Jaheira. "Answer carefully for these may be your last words!"
"My last words? Last words I spoke when my body died! And it was not even the fight that was remembered. A demon knight, the evil we encased and yet it is Durlag's name that is remembered not mine!"
"Eh. We're really just here for the doppelgangers," shrugged Arrow. "What even is a demon knight?"
The ghoul managed a gormless gawp, which was quite an achievement since ghouls tended to look gormless by default. It was something about the way the rotting skin hung around their jaws. Made them look a bit clueless.
"My intention it was to have you join us as unwilling guardians," said the ghoul, "But bear eternity in your company I could not. Now you must die!"
The ghoul lunged forward, and as he did so more carrion crawlers emerged from the poisonous puddles of ooze. Rasaad dodged a swing from his corroded sword and punched him swiftly in the neck and chest. Was it their imagination, or was he showing off Selune's power for Edwin's benefit?
There was a flash of fire and Viconia's summoned sword cut deep into the undead warrior's shoulder.
"Shar, by the way, that was Shar!" she called pointedly.
"Die in the name of Ilmater!" cried Arrow, releasing a fire arrow and striking the confused ghoul in the hole in his face where his nose used to be. They looked at her. "What? I'm releasing him from his suffering, that's a charitable thing to do."
Edwin rubbed his hands together with glee and let fly a barrage of magic missiles. His mastery of the weave trumped all three of them and the ghoul fell having barely had chance to raise his sword.
"You two also draw your powers from deities?" he cried, in feigned delight. "You must tell me all about it. I had no idea religion could be such a source of strength and er… inspiration to do good!" he added for Arrow's benefit. Xan narrowed his eyes at the red wizard suspiciously.
"I think it is safe to rest now," said Jaheira. In truth there was little option. There was nothing left to do now but find Durlag's shade, probably battle him, and draw a line under this whole sorry business. She was not naive enough to suppose that every doppelganger had been purged from Baldur's Gate, but between their efforts and Freya's the threat of them taking over the Sword Coast seemed to have been averted.
"Praise be to Shar!" sighed Viconia.
"Ilmater."
"Selune!"
Edwin allowed himself a secret little smile. Already this was working far better than he could have hoped. Having caught a bite on their religious hooks, there was no way that these fanatics would willingly let him go until they had reeled him in. By the time they were done with Durlag, these foolish donkeys would no doubt carry him to Baldur's Gate on their shoulders if he asked them to.
They barricaded themselves into one of the smaller rooms and settled to sleep without setting up a watch. Last time the succubus had caused them to forget to do it, this time there was no point. With the party this fatigued there was little a watcher could do, even assuming that sleep did not overcome them involuntarily.
That night, for the first time, Arrow had a vision of two of her siblings at once and it left her feeling nauseous. Normally she would float, spirit-like, at a fixed point over the head of whoever she was dreaming about. Wherever the most heated anger and violence was, to that sibling she would go. Presumably this was because they were Bhaalspawn and their father's taint was at its most powerful when they were committing destructive acts. This time was different. Instead of hovering over one of them, she yo-yoed between the two, without warning. It left her utterly motion sick and disorientated.
By the smell of things, she was not the only one feeling sick. Eric was disembarking nervously from a battered looking sailing ship and he reeked of vomit. Salty sea air whipped his long dark hair around his face. He looked pale and ill even by his standards. For a moment Arrow felt sorry for her brother, but then she remembered how he had disembowelled that paladin and tried to force him to renounce his god, and her heart hardened.
Freya, on the other hand, was healed from her earlier ordeal and looking every inch the demigod. Flanked by Flaming Fist soldiers and her party (Coran, she noticed, had finally rid himself of his cursed femininity and was male again). She was rather better armed and armoured than the last time Arrow had seen her. It seemed that the nobility of Baldur's Gate had deigned to reward her efforts by substantially upgrading her kit, though she noticed that Skie's father was watching her with an unfriendly eye.
The Hooded Man stepped off the boat after Eric. The young necromancer's eyes were darting frantically from him to Freya and back again. It was hard to say which of the pair terrified him more. If the golden werewolf was afraid of either of them, she did not show it. Her jaw was set and she was wearing a rather hard expression. There was little of her usual cocky humour in her dazzlingly beautiful face
"Greetings Bhaalspawn," began the Hooded Man, striding toward her. "I have waited a long time to meet-"
"Hang them," said Freya.
It was impossible for Eric to grow paler than he already was but his entire body began to shiver uncontrollably. His worst fears were confirmed. The death his sister had promised him in a vision had been no idle threat.
"NO!" a familiar voice screamed from behind her.
Eric raised his head hopefully.
"I -Imoen?" he croaked.
"Eric!" she cried, ducking through the grip of the Flaming Fist guards to Freya's alarm and embracing him. Judging by the werewolf's expression Imoen had not warned her that she intended to do this. Doubtless Freya would have kept her away if she had. Despite the seriousness of the situation and how unambiguously evil Eric was, Imoen seemed genuinely delighted to see him, brushing back his hair and searching his face.
Arrow noticed the Hooded Man was now watching Imoen with unmistakable curiosity. Her heart began to thud as a deep feeling of dread crept over her.
"It's ok now, I'm here," Imoen told him. Arrow groaned in despair. Being as she was, a chimera, patched together from little pieces of the souls of Gorion's wards, Imoen loved them all unconditionally. She had to.
Never had Arrow wanted to take physical form in her dreams more. She knew far better than Imoen what Eric was, and she was desperate to drag her friend away from him and the Hooded Man, back to the relative safety of the Flaming Fist. The necromancer made a grab for the pink haired girl and Arrow screamed, unheard, convinced that Imoen was about to be killed or at least become a hostage. Apparently Freya was thinking on the same lines and she motioned to the guards to arrest them.
Instead Eric hugged Imoen, sobbing great heaving tears into her shoulder.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he wailed. "I wish I could take it all back. Father was right, I should never have left!"
"Don't you dare bring Dad into this!" barked Freya.
"It's ok," said Imoen. But it was not ok at all. If Imoen was convinced by his apology, it was clear that Freya was not. The soul connection they shared prevented her from hurting her brother directly, but she seemed to have no qualms about directing her followers to do it for her.
Rough hands clamped onto Eric's shoulders dragging the terrified boy back. Freya gestured coldly in the direction of the main road and with a jolt of horror, Arrow saw that she had received the Hooded Man's message that they were coming and prepared accordingly. Two scaffolds had been hastily erected, and a pair of nooses swung gently in the sea breeze ready to receive the evil wizards.
A strangled scream escaped from Eric's lips, but the Hooded Man simply laughed.
"Please sister! I at least deserve a trial!" Eric begged, as the guards began hauling him toward the scaffold. Withdrawal from the numbing potions, the long sea voyage and the attentions of the Hooded Man had left him in no state to defend himself.
"Don't tempt me to give you what you 'deserve,'" replied Freya in a voice like iron. "Things will get a lot worse for you if I do."
Her party watched with grim expressions. Safana's eyes kept darting to the gallows anxiously and Minsc was cuddling his tiny hamster to his chest for comfort, but none of them made any move to dissuade their leader. Coran looked uncharacteristically serious, and Arrow knew why. He was a thief, and every thief operating in the larger towns and cities lived under the threat of one day receiving a sentence like this.
A mob had gathered to watch the execution. As they saw Eric being dragged in their direction a roaring jeer rose up. The necromancer struggled like a wild animal but he was physically weak and it made no difference. The Hooded Man watched indifferently, but when the guards tried to move him a magical sphere spread out from his body and they were thrown backward.
"You are going to execute him on the word of one woman?" the Hooded Man called to the Grand Dukes. "A werewolf no less?"
There was an uncomfortable pause. Freya's commanding aura of charisma tended to lead even quite senior people to go along with her when she gave orders. Especially when she had just saved said people from an invasion of doppelgangers and falling under the rule of a war-mongering demigod. That, and they still needed her to chase Sarevok to his hiding place and finish the job. None of them fancied taking on the task themselves. Unquestionably though, the Hooded Man did have a point.
One of the guards the Hooded man had blasted back was rising unsteadily to his feet. The other wasn't. Arrow recognized him as the young lad whose life Freya had spared when she escaped from the Iron Fist guards. He had seemed harmless enough. She craned to see if he was alright but without moving closer it was hard to tell. Freya muttered something to the officer on her right, who stepped over to check on the boy. Arrow recognised her too, as the scalp collecting officer she had argued with in Beregost, Jessa Vai.
"Are there no other witnesses?" asked Duke Silvershield. Freya made an odd noise in her throat. It sounded as if she was trying to suppress a growl. Though her lycanthropy was common knowledge, advertising it to the bloodthirsty mob would not be a smart move. "You mentioned a courtesan, Bubbles?"
"Let her be!" yelled Eric, briefly finding what scant courage he had.
"Nobody knows where she is," replied Freya tersely, "And she was his lover, he saved her from the pits. She's as likely to lie to protect him as not." She paused thinking. "Yes. There is another witness."
"Not me, not me, not me," pleaded Arrow in a whispered petition to Ilmater.
"The ranger Arowan," said Freya. "Summon her to Baldur's Gate. She can testify at their trial."
Arrow buried her face into her hands. Because of this she did not see exactly where they took him, but it looked as though Imoen followed because when she looked up again she had gone. She would not have been altogether sorry to see her evil brother's life brought to an end. He was a terrible person and there was nothing she could have done to help him. This was different. Her testimony would lead directly to his execution. Yet if she lied and they released him she would be responsible for every life he took thereafter. She tried to think of a way out of it, but couldn't. Summons from the Flaming Fist were seldom optional.
"This one doesn't need a trial!" barked Officer Vai, starting furiously toward the Hooded Man. "He's killed one of our lads he has!"
"I pushed him away," said the Hooded Man.
"And he landed wrong and his neck is broken!" Vai bellowed. She drew her sword and swung it at the sphere but was blasted back herself.
"Fools! You cannot contain me!" he snapped impatiently.
"Lock up the necromancer!" demanded Duke Silvershield. "Legion, form ranks!"
"Officers stay behind me!" ordered Freya, "Do not engage in melee, this one's more dangerous than Sarevok."
"I have no interest in this," the Hooded Man said.
"Mage division, dispel magic on my mark!"
Freya charged forward swords drawn. The Hooded Man threw a spell at her but he had gauged her power from his dealings with Eric. Freya, with a combination of lycanthropy and magical enhancement from Gorion's tomes was a rather different prospect. She was armed with the best equipment Baldur's Gate could provide and she threw off his curse with ease. He started muttering incantations, preparing something stronger.
"MARK!"
Dozens of dispelling spells flew at him at once. None of the mages would have lasted thirty seconds against him alone, but there were so many. The Hooded Man cursed in annoyance. He had not banked on the Hero of Baldur's Gate meeting him with an entire army at her back.
"Archers, Fire!"
Arrows of all types; fire, acid, ice, rained down on him. The dispelling spells were wearing at his defences and replenishing them was distracting him from attacking Freya. She had reached him now and swung at him with all her strength. It was barely enough to graze his arm, but she did draw blood.
"Cease this foolishness, I wish only to talk!" he demanded. The archers and battle mages continued to batter him, along with Freya (and Minsc who had ignored her instruction and charged him anyway). Some of the more powerful mages, Dynaheir, Duke Jannath and a few others had started casting spells intended to cause damage.
Only Freya was hurting him, and barely. Alone he could capture her with modest difficulty but he would not be able to snatch her from her city. So aggressive, and so persistent. She had a great deal of her father in her… it was most promising… but he would have to leave for now. He would need to exercise patience. Though all she had succeeded in doing was inflicting half a dozen scratches it was possible, eventually, to die from a thousand small cuts. With an annoyed grunt, the Hooded Man teleported away.
Freya stepped back panting.
"Damn. Barely scratched the bastard," she said. "Think all this was excessive now milord?" She gestured one of her swords at the assembled Flaming Fist divisions. "I told you he was a piece of work."
"We've got Eric," said Duke Silvershield. "With Arowan's testimony that will be sufficient grounds for a summary execution. One problem at a time."
She nodded and the Duke strode away. Coran and Minsc approached her awkwardly. She clapped them on the shoulders like brothers and looked around to collect her thoughts. The divisions dispersed back to their barracks but a few lingered around the body of the young recruit.
"Alright lads, someone grab his legs!" barked Freya, getting a grip under his arms. His head flopped at a grotesque angle. "Best get him to the temple sharpish."
"Pardon Sir, but he can't afford a resurrection spell," said one of the officers.
"Get the Duke to pay for it!"
"The Fist don't pay for that," said Officer Vai grimly. "We sign a contract when we join that agrees not to-"
"Fine, I'll pay for it," snapped Freya impatiently. "Now look lively! Unless you fancy explaining to his poor old nan that her grandson snuffed it and we didn't even manage to catch his killer!"
"Yes Sir, thank you Sir," the first officer said, scooping up his feet. "I can't tell you how grateful-"
"Alright, alright, put a sock in it now," replied Freya. "Nobody likes a bootlick." Officer Vai grinned.
Arrow woke, with no cry or scream, just staring dully at the stone ceiling. There was no way out of this one. She would have to tell the truth. Who knew what Eric might do if he was allowed to go free? Yet she was sentencing him to his death. She closed her eyes and pictured what he had done to the paladin and to the dwarf warrior who he charmed into slaying his own friends. He deserved to die there was no doubt about it. She mustn't feel sorry for him.
They ate in awkward silence, then followed Jaheira back to Durlag's shade. The dwarf looked confused and so old. Dwarves lived a long time but Arrow wondered if perhaps old age and dementia had as much of a hand in the design of this labyrinth as the doppelgangers.
"Everybody ready?" asked Jaheira. They nodded, tightening their grips on their weapons. The druid took a deep breath and tapped Durlag on the spectral shoulder. He looked at her, perplexed, frown lines forming over his brow.
"You have survived," he said slowly, not quite able to believe it. "You have understood. The hate… the fear…"
"All this just because you wanted to be understood?" asked Arrow. "Couldn't you have just hired a therapist or taken up abstract painting or something?" Everybody glared at her and she shut up.
"Now you must stop it becoming worse," the dead dwarf went on. "There is a creature below."
"The Demon Knight," replied Jaheira. "Your undead bodyguard warned us."
"You must remove it or it will make this place its own," said Durlag. "Such a fortress… impenetrable if made in its image."
He ran up a passageway, a shade of his wife awaited him at the end of it. She looked at them, sad dark eyes shining from under her curly black hair. To the party's surprise she offered to return them to the surface.
"Could we have a moment to think about this?" asked Arrow. They gathered around in a huddle. "So, scale of one to ten, how bad is a Demon Knight?"
"Bad," replied Xan hopelessly.
"We came here to slay the doppelgangers," said Arrow. "We did that. If this thing wants to live in this horrible tower, why not let it? We'll board up the entrance and put up signs."
"It isn't that simple, idiot rivvil," snapped Viconia. "Don't you see what we've done? We cleared the tower of all of Durlag's protections. It can bring in more demonic creatures whenever it feels like it. Doppelgangers and anything else besides. It can use this place as its base now and spread an empire outward. Our options are fight or run. We'd have to run a long way."
"Are you sure those are the only options?" asked Arrow scornfully. "If I remember correctly, the last time we fought an evil stronghold was with Gamaz and you ended up wanting to join him. If we bring you will you help us slay the Demon Knight or just try to have sex with it?"
"This isn't helping!" snapped Jaheira. "We need to make a decision; do we take on the Demon Knight? Or don't we?"
"I don't see that we have much of a choice," said Xan unhappily. "His doppelgangers are taking over Baldur's Gate. Unless we put a stop to this it won't matter whether Sarevok wins or loses. They'll take over everywhere eventually. What's the point of running?"
"We'd get to live a little longer," muttered Viconia.
"Hey Viconia, did you and Xan swap personalities?" quipped Arrow. "Jaheira, if you say fight I'll back you."
"A- as will I," stammered Khalid, though he was looking at the door with a petrified expression.
"An excruciating descent into the abyss will befall each of us eventually," moaned Xan. "Better to get the inevitable over with quickly."
"I deserve no better fate," moaned Rasaad, who had not gotten over the incident with the succubus.
"We fight," Jaheira said firmly, though her knuckles were white where she gripped her staff.
Just before they crossed the threshold, Khalid took Jaheira's hand in his own and said; "If we don't make it, I am honoured to die by your side my love."
"What a nauseating display!" snapped Viconia, loudly.
Xan's lip twitched, despite himself. Her total inability or unwillingness to conform to basic social norms was utterly endearing. What was the matter with him? She was rude, violent and transparently attracted to the monk, at least on a superficial level.
Back home in Evereska there were women of his own kind, many of whom had been interested in the young heir to a Moonblade. The lifespan of elves was such that he had already had time to meet them all. The problem was they all possessed one glaring, non-negotiable flaw: they were not Viconia.
He took her hand in his, and she narrowed her red eyes at him, daring him to try saying something soppy.
"Viconia," he said, meeting her eyes. "You are far nastier than any Demon Knight, and I am nowhere near as frightened of it as I am of you." She shot him an amused, slightly twisted smile.
Arrow eyed the door ruefully. She would receive no such romantic declaration and despite her best efforts not to care, it was making her sad. This was no time to be worrying about such petty things though. Not with the evil awaiting them on the other side.
'If only I could postpone my feelings,' she thought. 'And deal with them later."
She remembered the bag containing Gamaz's numbing potions and inhaled sharply. Suddenly she felt very aware of their weight. Adrenaline flooded through her and her heart began to pound with fear in a way that had nothing to do with the Demon Knight.
'Don't be ridiculous!' she berated herself, willing her heartrate to calm from that terrifying idea. 'Just because you thought it doesn't mean you'd ever do it.'
"Take whatever potions you are carrying now!" said Jaheira. She meant ability enhancers for the fight of course, having no notion of the dangerous concoctions sloshing around in Arrow's pack. Still given the thoughts that had been going through her mind, her words made the ranger flinch. "Spellcasters, prepare yourselves. We're going in."
"I am blessed to stand in such heroic company," said Edwin in a bored voice. "Yes, yes. Let these brainless peasants act as canon fodder Odesseiron, and live to fight another day." With that the Thayan turned and fled. Nobody bothered to stop him. Seconds later there was a click and a yelp. To their amusement they found him dangling upside down by one ankle from the ceiling. "Get me down!" he howled.
"Later," smirked Jaheira.
"Hang in there Edwin," said Arrow, who considered puns the highest form of wit. "We'll get you on the way out."
