The archer had been right. Everyone -was- tired and footsore by the time they reached Beregost. Fortunately, nobody had taken him up on his offer to carry them the last few hours, and instead they all (minus Edwin - He opened the door for them as well as booked their rooms) rolled into the Jovial Juggler under the cover of an invisibility spell. After basic defensive spells were put in place, alarm spells were cast and they retired to the four rooms they had decided on: Xzar, and Damion in one, Viconia in the second, Baeloth in the third and Edwin in the fourth.

They ordered their own meals, and spent the time in a mix of eating and sleeping until a polite knock sounded at Damion's door shortly before the evening meal would have been expected. The archer was particularly conscious of how thin the door was, and glanced over to where Xzar seemed to be unconscious in his nest of blankets and pillows on the floor before drawing one of his shortswords and tucking it behind his back. Leaning next to the door against the wall, he cleared his throat and answered the next knock.

"... Hello?"

"Damion?"

He knew that voice. Unlocking the door and opening it, he was greeted by the sight of a somewhat tired looking Xan and relaxed.

"You- How?- When did you-?" Damion jerked slightly as Xzar hauled him back from the door and stepped forward, dagger in hand and waving it wildly in the backpedaling and startled enchanters face.

"YOU! You could be ANYONE! Are you a rabbit? ARE YOU!? You came here to KILL me, DIDN'T YOU! You came here to KILL HIM!"

"Xzar, stand down!" The words were a barked order from the archer, and he pushed down his surprise at how the necromancer flinched and lowered the dagger.

"Have him -prove- he is who he looks like. Have him -proove- it!" The words were hissed out from between clenched teeth as Xzar shook where he stood, and Xan raised his hands and drew his moonblade, laying it flat across his free hand as if to offer it out.

"The only one who could use this is me...?"

Damion reached out as if to try and grasp the offered handle, only for Xzar to smack his hand away and grasp it himself. With a yelp, he recoiled and frowned, aggression bleeding out of his frame. He grimaced, before nodding and stepping back slightly.

"Are you satisfied, Xzar?" The enchanter partially sheathed the moonblade, waiting for the grunt of confirmation before he finished the action and looked to the archer. "We... We need to talk. Something absolutely -dreadful- has happened."

"Come in then." Damion reached and snagged Xzar's arm, drawing him back to the nest of blankets and pillows and setting about trying to figure out how to fix the way the necromancers hand was swelling. Xan followed them in, checking the hall before closing the door behind him and turning back to the two on the floor.

"Imoen's gone."

The archer froze.

"I delivered your last message to Jaheira. They were working their way up the coast after rescuing a Wychlaran of Rashemen from the gnolls, and the next day she was gone. While Jaheira and her husband scour the countryside for signs of her, she sent myself, Branwen and both of the Rashemi through the towns to try and find her." The elf swallowed, shoulders slumping. "... I... Have not found any sign of her."

"How did you find us?" Damion's voice was perfectly level, and he withdrew a cloth from a pouch and wrapped it around the necromancers hand calmly.

"I detect thoughts and scour the streets. I heard a familiar tone, and recognized you from it. I was doing it only in case she-"

The archer held up a hand, stalling Xan's words as he turned to face the Greycloak. "I'm not upset at your methods. I have a few questions, though. One, this... Wichlaran, you called her?"

"Wychlaran."

Damion nodded, before settling his hands on his lap. "Can you set up a meeting between her and I in about fifteen minutes? I still have people looking for me, so it'll have to be just out past the edge of town. Just to the south, I think, about five or so minutes out down the road? I've never met her, and I'd like to. Who is Branwen?"

"The northerner cleric that Tranzig petrified." Xan's words drew a smile from the bhaalspawn, who pushed himself up to his feet.

"Perfect. Can you have her meet us as well?"

He wasn't sure what he had been expecting, as he stood there with Xzar and watched the group of four that made their way down the road. Xan led them, watching and answering questions as the large man that he remembered from Nashkel (he recalled something about a... Hamster? Miniature giant something.) walked in front of two women he didn't recognize. One was blond, tanned, well built and wearing splint armor with a shield strapped to her back and a hammer leaned against her shoulder, while the other was dark skinned and had a mane of dark hair that cascaded down the shoulders of her robes.

"Xzar? Remember what we discussed?"

The necromancer nodded, and folded his hands behind his back while the archer stepped forward and held up a hand to hail the group.

"Xan! These must be them." Damion gestured to the other three, smiling and beckoning them over even as he unrolled a scroll with his free hand. "Bear with us for a moment."

"What are you-?"

And then the spell went off.

Edwin was enjoying some peace and quiet in his rooms when someone knocked on the door. He ignored it, until whoever it was slipped a note under the door. His familiar (an imp) collected it and brought it over, and he set his book aside and went to answer the door once he realized the contents of the note.

Damion stood there with a head in his hands. The skin was blistered and burned in certain parts, frostbitten black in others and the once glorious mane of dark auburn hair was short in one section as if it had been cut in a bid for freedom. The lower jaw was missing, and where one eye stared blankly, the other looked to have been popped by an arrow. He leaned in, set the head into Edwin's arms and then turned and walked silently down the hall to his own room.

A crow bobbed its head and pecked at the pile of carrion in the middle of the clearing.

"Are you certain this will work?"

"I hope so. We only have two shots at this. Xzar?"

There was a rustle of robes, a quiet thunk and then the necromancer became visible a little ways back into the treeline. He drew out a wand and twirled it almost daintily before leveling it at the crow.

"Fuck -you- in particular."

The crow froze, and started to twitch oddly before rapidly expanding. Dark auburn hair spread outwards, and feathers gave way to dark skinned flesh. As it flailed and tried to get to its (her?) feet, the necromancer lunged forward and was beaten there by an arrow that slammed through the crow-turned-Rashemi's eye, downing it. Xzar drew a dagger gleefully, and went to work cutting off the head.

"That should buy you enough time to get out of here. If anyone asks me, I -definitely- thought it was you bathing, and ambushed you. Otherwise, I'll keep him busy along the sword coast for a while."

"Why are you doing this?" Dynaheir turned to where she could see the archer, and his eyes flit across her invisible form before searching for the indent of her feet in the grass. "You owe me nothing, but from what I understand this is the second time you have ensured my survival."

"Well, to be fair, Xzar's going to eat the rest of the body, and it's convenient for me because then Edwin's indebted to me. All that I ask, is that you find my sister before you leave so that Xan can take her back to Jaheira. After that, you need to go."

Dynaheirs eyes flit to the necromancer as he pressed frost rimed fingers against the face of her doppelganger, giggling as the flesh darkened to a frostbitten black. She had to fight the urge to puke, and turned away.

"... Yes, I... Think that would be for the best."

Damion sat down on the bed, and dropped his head into his hands. Xzar had returned a few minutes before he had, and was currently curled up in the mass of blankets and pillows he was nesting in with a content smile across his face, and the archer almost couldn't look at him.

"Da~Mi~On~...? At-whey is-say ong-wray?"

"Why did you remove the lower jaw?"

There was an almost purr of a sound, before the necromancer reached up as if to touch the ceiling. "Stories-bones-tells would work now, only. No speaking with the dead if the dead has no jawsies to speak with, ne?"

"That... Makes sense. Thank you, by the way. For washing up before we came back."

"Does he want the gibblets this one would have shared with the Cornugget?"

"No, Xzar, thank you for your consideration though." He sighed, scrubbing his hands across his face. "... Am I making the right choices? Am I doing the right thing? I'm lying to people, I'm... I'm letting you -eat- people, Oghma's Boots..."

"Doubt is weakness." Xzar's voice came from far closer than Damion expected, and as he jerked his head up to find the necromancer's face a mere inch away from his own he had to shift back to make sure he didn't accidentally headbutt his roommate.

"A lot of things are weakness."

"Yes, but for you, Doubt will -kill- you. You chose to dance the fine spiders line 'twixt morality and murder. -You- bade him cast the wands spell against yon blackbird, -your- wish was to fool the Thavian and spare a life. Two lives. Four, as would yon elf-man have backed down? Does his debt to you trump his own time with the two?" Xzar straightened from where he had leaned down, scratching thoughtfully at the stubble growing across his chin. "Matters not, ne? No. Does not. Done what is done we have, and do what we must, we will. It is mine to keep you safe, mine to keep you growing now that the Cornugget is no more. But you must not waver, must not falter, must not step back. Do so, and you die. And if you die, we die."

The archer watched him for a long moment, before standing and reaching out to grasp the necromancer by the shoulders.

"I almost forgot. I've been saving coins for something for you, but you have to promise me that you'll keep it a secret, and behave while we go and get it."

Xzar blinked blankly for a moment, baffled and fighting the urge to fling himself away from the archer as his skin crawled.

"... O... Otay... But p-p-pwease stawp touching me?"

They left and circled around the town, avoiding people as best they could and heading east. It wasn't a very long trip, and as they arrived at the Song of the Morning Temple, Xzar balked. He shook, he spat, and he muttered in tongues as he reluctantly obeyed a stern-worded command to follow Damion and to behave. They entered the temple, and after a few moments of quiet conversation with Keldath the archer beckoned the necromancer closer.

"Xzar. I want you to stand there and be as a stone for me. Silent, still, do nothing but breath. Do this for me, and something very good will happen."

His skin crawled, and he sucked in a deep breath even as he closed his eyes and tensed. He could hear quiet chanting, praying, and couldn't fight the shudder that rippled down his spine. He wanted to fight, wanted to be anywhere but that incessant droning hymn that was rising about him, wanted to rip and tear and claw-

-Hear me, and relax.-

Xzar wavered, before latching onto that ever so slight echo of a second breath. The singing continued, but he was so enraptured by the tickle of the archers voice through the core of his being that he barely registered it. He was passingly aware of the tingle of magic as it washed over him, and stood still and silent until the sensation faded.

"Xzar, open your eyes. Look at me"

The necromancer did, and blinked over at the archer who was standing there and studying him intently.

"How do you feel?"

"I feel-" He paused, contemplating the question. It was a subtle difference, as he expected to be distracted by something across the room mid-sentence but instead found himself turning the question over and actively seeking an answer to it. As if to experiment, he reached out and hesitantly settled his hand on Damion's shoulder. After a moment, he drew his hand back to himself and stared at it.

"... The clutter and sharp edges of constant distractions are gone."

"One step further on the road to making you whole again, my priest."

Xzar sputtered and wheezed before staring dumbly at the shyly smiling archer.

Nimloth!
Thank you for the review! You are correct in that it's his Bhaaltaint, and it's 'manifesting' to him like that because in BG2 you talk to your Bhaaltaint in dreams in a similar manner. So spot on for that one! Regarding the message for Imoen coded into the letter, that's a pretty cool way to view it! I like that interpretation of it! The reason it's laid out in the three syllable per line pattern is that part of the cypher they use is sing-song based, like anything a child created would likely be. It's a bit rough, but considering the rest of the contents of the letter it's what worked out.
I'm glad that Damion has finally reached a stage where he could be considered 'strong willed'. It's a work in progress but he's still so much closer than he was when he started out.
Questions? Comments? Concerns?
Leave a message after the tone,
-KD