The world flashed, burned before their eyes- it was as though their souls were being torn from their body, pulled without feeling and without reason. That was a lie though. There was good reason for what they were about to do, where they were about to go. Their leader, their companion, their friend... her brother. Imoen ignored the pain that racked them as the gem brought them further and further along into the world of its own design, of this so-called perfect world... the one place they could find Greywulf and the one place they had to pull him out of. She thought back to what the imp had told them, just brief seconds ago...
"Me not knows what to tell you... sorries. Um... you wants me to keep leading you to exit nows?" the imp shrugged, glancing at the limp figure of Greywulf, still kneeling beside the now coruscating gem along with the dozens of other skeletons, similar fools who had given up their reality and life for a taste of non-existent perfection.
"No! We're not going anywhere without Greywulf." Imoen insisted, poking the imp in his little reddish chest. "Now c'mon! If there's no way for us to wake him up, then isn't there some way we can... I don't know, talk to him? Get into his head, like what you guys did with me?"
"I don't know... I'm not nearly as powerful as Greywulf when it comes to that kind of thing." Aerie frowned, biting her lip nervously as she considered the possibility. "And he had a strong bond with you to begin with, making it easier for him to go inside... I don't think I can handle it. Maybe you might have better luck, Imoen."
"Then I'll do it." Imoen said defiantly, rolling up her sleeves as she prepared to head over towards her brother-
"Wait, child." Jaheira's weak, barely conscious voice stopped her, the druid's arm catching her wrist as she tried to walk by. "Stealing... stealing into someone's mind is not like stealing into their house. It is always dangerous... add the gem to this and you might do more harm than good here."
"She is right." Keldorn said quietly, sitting across from Jaheira with his fingers clasped before his face. "Whatever game is being played here is operating on different rules than to which we are accustomed. The gem is the problem here... I feel it must also be the solution."
"What about the gem?" Aerie questioned. "If... well, if it brought Greywulf to whatever world he's experiencing now, maybe it can bring us there as well!"
All eyes turned to the imp, who appeared to be in deep thought, raising one hand after the other as though weighing the idea on invisible scales... he winced, then nodded once. "Maybes. It coulds work, but me never seen it done. Gem probably can onlys make one world at time, so if yous touch gem, you not get world of own... you go to his world. Makes sense. Yes. Yup. Makes sense."
"Then we should go. Right now." Imoen stood, looking out at the others. "Who else is coming with me?"
"I shall accompany you." Keldorn nodded. "If this world is as real as I believe it will be, a strong sword will be necessary."
"Then you'll need my magic, too." Aerie nodded, pushing herself to her feet and joining the other two. Jaheira groaned once, trying to use the wall to help her stand... and failed. She coughed, then muttered a small incantation to ease her pain. Keldorn glanced at the two girls with him, then the two injured fighters leaned up against the wall.
"Hmm... perhaps it might not be wise to leave both Jaheira and Minsc unattended. Imoen... I know how much you love Greywulf, but if Jaheira and Minsc need aid while we are away-"
"Why me?!" Imoen protested angrily, Keldorn obviously considering his words very carefully as he looked at her face. "I'm not even a healer! Give me one good reason why I should even consider staying!!"
"I... I only try to point out that you might be too close... too emotionally involved in this to think clearly or make the necessary judgment calls." Keldorn had little time to make any further argument; Imoen walked right up to him and stared him down, her eyes narrow and dark.
"You have got one hell of a nerve to tell me that." she turned on her heel and stalked over to the gem, awaiting the others.
"Um... excuse me?" the imp piped up, breaking off the tension. "If yous worried about monsters, don't be. Theys know about gem. Makes them scared. Theys don't come in this place. Your friends be safe without you."
"What about your injuries?" Aerie asked, looking Jaheira and Minsc over. "Will you two be all right without more healing?"
"I still have a few healing potions left, as does Minsc." Jaheira sighed with effort, craning her neck down to look at her belt. "What both of us really need is rest; Minsc is getting some now, and I will be joining him promptly whether I like it or not. Go on. Bring him back."
Keldorn, Aerie, and Imoen all exchanged glances for a second... the paladin nodded, walking with the elf to the gem alongside Imoen. They raised their hands, slowly placing them over the gem, right next to Greywulf's hand-
"Waits! Me thinks of something else!" the imp waved his arms, grabbing their attention a split second before they would have touched the magical artifact. "World you going too is Greywulf's world, yes? That means that he still controls leavings of world. If you can't finds him or convinces him to go home... yous stuck in there till dying too."
The three listened to the imp's warning... all three of their hands rested on the gem as one.
The world strobed again, the feeling of an entire universe being summoned and created all at once as she entered into it- Imoen gasped for breath as she felt herself on solid ground once more, her feet resting on rock as her eyes adjusted to the feel of a world entirely foreign and yet entirely similar all at once. She glanced to the side with shaking head, exhaling gratefully as she spied both Keldorn and Aerie with her, the two of them looking just as disoriented as her as they struggled to regain both their wits as well as their balance, not necessarily in that order.
The first thing to return was her vision; Imoen blinked several times repeatedly, trying to focus her eyes on the ground beneath her hands and knees; it hurt, digging into the palms of her exposed hands as though rough, covered in jagged edges. The overlying color of everything was a dirty gray, mingled with reddish brown. She finally saw enough to pick herself off the ground; the rock beneath her was rough and broken, gravel filled dirt, burnt and covered in ash. Imoen frowned as she wobbled a moment, trying to keep herself standing up as she shook her head again, trying desperately to clear the fog from her head-
"By the gods... it can't be."
Keldorn's whisper grabbed her attention; Imoen looked up to where the paladin's empty gaze was lying. Off in the distance stood the outline of a city, lit up in the morning horizon... the sight was horrific. Even from a distance, it was painfully obvious that whatever city stood before them had been sacked and destroyed. Towers were crumbling and barely standing, remnants of what had once been powerfully built walls and gates were in ruin, allowing any who sought entrance to the desolate wasteland their opening.
Imoen took a step forward, freezing as she heard the familiar crunch of bones under her feet. She barely heard the cry of alarm from Aerie as the three of them took in the ground and landscape; bones and dead men littered the road and field, along with burnt and scorched earth. Thousands upon thousands of dead lay in the fields and roads, all slain in battle. Their weapons lay with them, and blood stained the ground a permanent red to their sight.
"I... I don't understand." Aerie stammered, taking in the war torn sights before them, almost shaking in disbelief. "This is... what kind of world is this? Where are we?"
Keldorn glanced off to the side, noting a particularly large clump of seemingly random wood; he looked back at the outline of the city, such as it was, then shook his head in sorrow. "The answer to your first question can only be given by Greywulf himself. As for your second, we're on the road to Athkatla."
Aerie gasped, but the wreckage Keldorn had noted told the truth. It was an old sign, broken and half-burnt, but the name of the city could still be made plain on the flesh of the wood. Keldorn exhaled loudly, then shouldered his pack and armor, steadying himself as he moved on, traveling the rest of the way to the city. Imoen frowned, sprinting a bit to catch up. "Where are we going? You think there's still anyone left in there?"
"Undoubtedly. Most of the city still looks habitable from here, if in poor condition. If we are to find any leads or information about what has happened, it will be in the city itself."
The three travelers, strangers to this world and its history continued on the road to Athkatla, passing fields that had once produced crops and held farms, families... no more. Anything that had not been torn down seemed to have been put to the sword; while no bodies had been left out in plain sight, it was more than apparent that those who had been killed here had died violent deaths. Terrible deaths. The sight turned Aerie's head, the elf unable to gaze upon the sight for too long. Keldorn noticed, drawing close to her in sympathy and understanding. He placed one hand on her shoulder, sighing as he gazed over the devastation too.
Aerie smiled in appreciation, trying to compose herself as what had once been the great arch overlooking the city gate finally came within reach, though the monument was broken and lying in disrepair, collapsed some time ago. Still, they passed through, entering the former City of Coin. Despite the outside condition of the city, the pretense of being deserted, it was not so. Scattered remnants of people still residing in the city were evident, shown through makeshift homes and repaired buildings. Nothing was in perfect or even good condition, but there was undoubtedly people still living in the once mighty city of Athkatla. Keldorn glanced to the side, eyeing a pair off to the side, huddled in shadow, a mother and young boy. They watched the three adventurers pass silently, before returning to whatever work they had been at previously.
"What happened here?" Aerie whispered, watching another group of civilians slide out of sight at their approach. "Everyone's so afraid... so terrified. What could have done this?"
"I'm almost afraid to find out." Keldorn murmured. "A war of some kind, no doubt... but the nature of it I cannot guess. Perhaps... perhaps we might still be able to find some kind of information."
"Where? The first time we try to talk to one of these locals they'll either lynch us or run in terror." Imoen responded, sidestepping a pile of debris.
"The one place that might... might still be standing." Keldorn said, though worry was evident in his voice. "The Order of the Radiant Heart. If any structure still stands, it will be the High Hall. The men there would defend it to the last... Torm help us if it has fallen too."
X X X X X X X
"Keldorn- I... I'm sorry." Aerie's voice rang hollow in the air as Keldorn stood before what had once been the High Hall of the Radiant Heart. The once regal statues of paladins and knights of old that had lined the walkway leading to the mighty oak doors were torn down and scattered in pieces. The gleaming white pillars and trim that had overlaid the whole building were dirty and burnt now, only half-connected to the main building, seemingly ready to fall at any time. Part of the roof was collapsed, sagging in the midst of the building's center, no doubt missing vital support pillars that had kept it intact. The symbol of the Order, once displayed so prominently above the door was lying on the ground before them, splintered and broken.
Keldorn did not answer Aerie; he knelt down and picked up the wood plaque that had held the symbol of the Order, watching it fall to pieces in the grip of his gauntlet. He let it fall, straightening as he stood once more, his head bowed in silence. Imoen cringed, then approached, unsure of what to say to the man. "I know it's probably no help, but it... well, it wasn't real. None of this is."
He did not say anything, only looked up to the sky, the faintest glimmer of a tear shimmering in one of his eyes... before looking back down at Imoen, a weak smile crossing his features. "I know. But it pierces my heart no less to see it here and now like this. Not the building itself, just bricks and mortar that can be rebuilt. But the ideals it represented, the way of the paladin..."
Aerie approached to his other side, looking at the barely standing building before them with a sigh, asking, "What do we do now? I still don't even understand why this place is so... so horrid. Did the imp lie to us, maybe? He said it was a perfect world-"
"No... not exactly." Keldorn shook his head, motioning for them to continue onward, sidestepping the piles of burnt wood and broken plaster and marble. "He said it was a world where Greywulf's greatest wish had come true. A perfect world for him. The imp said nothing about the consequences of that wish for the rest of Faerun."
"But what kind of wish could have wrought this kind of destruction, this kind of pain?" Aerie asked, though the hesitancy in her expression and voice spoke of a reluctance to even hear the answer. "Maybe... it isn't possible that he could have-"
"Don't even say it." Imoen cut her off, shaking her head vehemently, though her face was a bit paler than usual as she spoke, trying to convince Aerie- and perhaps herself- of the words she spoke. "He would never wish it. It's not him-"
"But if he did wish to become the new Lord of Murder, than we must be prepared to deal with that possibility." Keldorn said with narrowed eyes, stating the fear in everyone's hearts. "Come. Let us investigate the rest of this building... or what remains of it. If this world is anything like our own, which I believe it is with the exception of Greywulf's interference, than we might find some clue as to the events that have transpired within my old quarters."
He pushed on one of the doors, the large oaken portal creaking open, letting a jagged beam of light shine across the dirt and dust covered floor. Their footsteps echoed in the formerly regal entrance hall of the Order, the beautiful banners and statues that had adorned the Hall now torn and burnt beyond recognition. The entrance corridor abruptly opened into the vast expanse of the main hall, once housing the training spaces and head quarters of the greatest force for good in the Realms. Hundreds upon hundreds of paladins and knights had been dubbed and commissioned within those hallowed halls; many more had been rejected or failed their final tests.
The old paladin pushed himself over a support beam that had fallen and blocked part of the way across the engraved ceramic floor tiles and the inscriptions written upon them. The two girls jumped it as well, following him to a side room, the door half off its hinges. Keldorn grasped the impedance with both hands, grunting as he yanked on it, the wood splintering at the hinges, dead from the inferno it had already suffered. Keldorn glanced inside quickly as though to ensure that the room was safe, then gestured for the girls to follow him.
Aerie coughed once as the two of them stepped through the cloud of ash and dust that he had left in his wake of opening the door for them, squinting through to see the contents of the room. Like all the others, it had hardly been left untouched by whatever had been through the city; his desk was broken at the right legs, leaning over on its side, papers and some personal belongings scattered through the room, those that had not been burnt at least. Aerie knelt and picked up a few pieces of paper, her quick eyes scanning the writing on them, looking for anything of importance. She looked up at Keldorn, hoping he had found something; his hands were clutching a small picture frame, most likely one that had previously been resting on the desk. Even from a short distance, she could see what rested inside the dirtied but unbroken frame: Keldorn smiled as he gazed on a small portrait of his wife, the woman holding her baby son in her arms while her daughter held to her side tightly.
"Hey, what's this thing?"
Imoen's curious voice caught both of them off guard; Keldorn tucked the picture into his pack and turned to Imoen, who was holding an ornate helmet, its visor raised as she looked it over, inside and out. Keldorn stifled a laugh as he took the armor from her, checking it himself. "I haven't worn this in years... when one becomes a full-fledged member of the Order, they are gifted with two things, a helmet and a cup. Both symbolize the unity and bond between the brothers and sisters of the Order; the cup to show our unity outside of combat, the helmet to show our unity on the field. Some choose to wear their helmets into battle, though I found it to be more of an impedance than anything. The visor always obstructed my view of the battlefield, though I did not hesitate to wear it in single combat."
"Well let's see it." Imoen laughed, gesturing for him to put the helmet on. "C'mon, I wanna see how you look in full knightly regalia."
Keldorn rolled his eyes but obliged her, sliding the headpiece on, clamping the visor shut at her urging. "There. Satisfied?"
"Satisfied that you three are nay more than grave robbing villains!" an accented voice rung out strong in the hall behind them; all three whirled to see a fully armored figure standing in the hall behind them, a large shield with an emblazoned family crest on it and a large, obviously enchanted mace in the other. His body was covered in full plate mail, and a helmet covered his head and face as well. He raised the blunt weapon high, using it to point at the three frozen adventurers, accusing in his form. "This place may be a ruin, but I shall not see it be looted by the likes of thee! Stand down your weapons, curs!"
"You misunderstand-" Keldorn started, but the armored man shook his head, keeping his shield at guard and his mace at the ready. "I understand fully, villain! You will remove the sword at your belt, and most certainly remove the helmet that you dishonor with your unworthy head! The Order may be gone, but its spirit will never die, not so long as I draw breath! Now stand down your weapons or perish."
"Believe me when I say we do not wish to be your enemy... none of us does." Keldorn said through gritted teeth as both Aerie and Imoen slowly laid their weapons on the ground, the armored man just close enough to all of them that nobody was out of range. "Still, if you insist on disarming us, my sword first..."
Keldorn slowly drew the blade he wore from his sheath- it flew the last few inches out with a rush of wind, Keldorn letting out a shout of war as the blade cut down towards their opponent, his mace rising to block a split second before the Hallowed Redeemer would have literally disarmed him. The shield came around to bash into Keldorn's side, sending him stumbling back over the desk, crashing through it as Aerie and Imoen scattered, their weapons forcibly abandoned. Keldorn looked up just in time to see the mace rushing down towards his chest; he rolled away, coming up slow in the armor he wore but quickly enough to circle where the exit of the room was now at his back.
He slowly began moving towards it, watching the mace-wielding figure intently... he attacked swiftly, Keldorn shunting the mace aside with both hands on the hilt of his sword, letting the momentum take him out of the room completely. Keldorn ducked back again, avoiding a swing that shattered the remnants of the door that had been left intact, giving Keldorn an opportunity to strike... if not for the shield. The blade rang loudly as it bounced off the shield, evidence of the protective magics surrounding it. The two antagonists circled slowly, each one watching the other for any sign of weakness... Keldorn feinted a strike to the left, instead bringing the blade underneath for a chop at the legs, something the armored man would be hard pressed to jump over.
Instead, he stepped back out of range of the swing, moving back in just as swiftly to bring the mace down towards Keldorn's head. The paladin's eyes widened as he swung his sword up, catching part of it with one hand as the edge of it caught the flanges of the mace, Keldorn struggling backwards as the mace pushed harder and harder, driving him downward-
A blast of magic missiles hammered the armored man, his cries almost drowned by the numerous explosions of magic that peppered his chest plate and side. He stumbled away, falling to the ground with a clatter, completely taken by surprise by the magical onslaught. His mace rolled to one side, the man looking past Keldorn to see both Aerie and Imoen standing back at the entrance to the room, their hands raised with magic energy snapping and sizzling at their fingertips. His attention turned back to Keldorn as the paladin lowered his sword, resting it at his neck. An audible growl could be heard issuing from the man's helmet. "I should not have been surprised to find you have no honor in you. Go on then and claim your kill, tomb raider! The gods will take vengeance for your sacrilege of these hallowed grounds, though my arm was unable to do so!"
Keldorn regarded the downed man for a moment... then took a step back, gesturing to his opponent's mace with his blade. "Take it. Take your weapon and fight. Both of you... stay out of the rest of this battle."
The girls were almost as surprised as the man on the ground; he was slow to rise, but he did stand, clutching his mace tightly again. "You... you allow me to finish this fight with honor? Perhaps there is some glimmer of worth in you after all. Hmm... tell me your name, warrior. I would know whom I face to preserve the honor of the Order."
Keldorn raised his sword to salute, gripping it tightly. "As I said, I have no desire to battle you, if your allegiance lies with the Order. As for my name, you look upon Keldorn Firecam, paladin of Torm and surviving member of the Radiant Heart!"
The man was silent for a moment... he roared a challenge, his voice displaying more anger than before, if possible. "Liar! Base evildoer! You would try and take the name of Sir Keldorn himself?! Pass yourself, a villainous robber of the dead, as one of the greatest paladins to have ever walked the Realms? I shall see you dead for this insult, this shameless act of treachery!"
He charged forward, the ferocity of his attack taking Keldorn by surprise. The mace came across his side even as his shield drove forward, giving him the choice of which attack to defend. Keldorn braced himself, moving his sword to block the mace- he grunted with the body blow that came with the man's shield bash. Still, he let himself move with the momentum, swinging to the side and chopping down at the man's legs from behind. His opponent spun just in time, letting his mace fall low, deflecting the attack as the mace pinned the sword to the ground. Keldorn tried to sweep his blade out and around to free it, but he nearly froze at the sound of the man's words, spilling from the depths of his helmet... chants and incantations to Helm himself. He heard a shout of alarm from Aerie, apparently recognizing the words and prayers being spoken, but it was too late. Flame spilled from the air itself, striking where Keldorn had been just seconds ago. Backpedaling out of danger, he found himself wide open for the armored man to sweep forward, pressing him back further and further until he was leaned over the fallen pillar, both their free hands clutching each other's weapons in a mutual pin. Keldorn blinked the sweat from his eyes as they remained locked there, neither willing to relinquish the grip on their weapons...
"You... fight well. A cleric, aren't you?" Keldorn forced out, trying to find some way of getting the man's weight off him and yet retain his own blade. "Why will... you not believe me? Can you not see we are on the same side?!"
"Robbing the dead I can perhaps... forgive, for these times are hard for us all." the man above said with great effort, pushing harder as Keldorn felt the grip he had on his own sword beginning to slip... "But defiling the memory of Sir Keldorn, one of my mentors and heroes... I shall not, will not let pass!"
With a shout of victory, the Hallowed Redeemer was sent clattering to the ground. A gasp of alarm came from Aerie as the man raised his mace high, grasping with the other at Keldorn's helmet. "And now, fiend, I shall see your face before you perish under Helm's fury!"
The helmet was sent sliding across the floor... a choke of disbelief echoed from the man's throat as he gazed down upon the sweaty, tired visage of Sir Keldorn Firecam. "By Helm, it cannot be! No... impossible! Impossible!"
He stepped back, letting Keldorn rise to his feet, bending over and picking the Hallowed Redeemer up before sheathing it carefully. "Yes, it is I. And you are?"
He did not answer for a moment, but merely stood in awe at the man before him. Finally, as if though hearing Keldorn at last, he pulled off his own helmet, letting the strands of his own sandy brown hair dangle free from their former imprisonment within his own helm. "I... former squire Anomen Delryn, at your service, milord."
"Squire Anomen?" Keldorn sounded no less surprised to see the young man there before him, but he quickly extended one hand to the cleric, exhaling loudly. "This is most interesting indeed. Still, an opportunity like this should not go to waste. Now that we're no longer at each other's throat, perhaps we should sit and have a talk. There is much that we need explained to us... and by your continued references to me in the past tense during our battle, I expect you will require much the same."
X X X X X X X
"Four years. Four years ago, if you mean to ask when the first signs of trouble started. Four years since we began to see the plans set into motion... plans we could do nothing to halt." Anomen shook his head with the memory, seated next to Keldorn as the two of them sat on the steps leading into the ruined Order Hall. Aerie and Imoen sat on either side of the two, listening intently. Keldorn had informed Anomen of their situation, or at least what he could without making them all sound insane. Still, despite the incredulousness of the claims Keldorn had seen fit to inform Anomen of, he could not deny Keldorn's existence there before him when according to Anomen, he should have been dead. Apparently the paladin's word still held nothing but truth for the young warrior; he accepted it and then proceeded to aid the party, telling them everything that had led to this point, to the destruction they saw around them.
"It started with the iron crisis, plaguing the Sword Coast and beyond with the tainted ore from Nashkel and Cloakwood. We didn't know then, but the bandit attacks, the ore, all of it was interwoven. Perhaps had we realized it then, we might've averted the catastrophe later on, but 'tis nothing more than a fantasy now. Hostilities grew between Amn and Baldur's Gate, tensions rose and tempers flared, each side convince the other was plotting to destroy them."
"I remember. In our world the war between the two nations was narrowly averted." Keldorn mused, shaking his head as he glanced back at Anomen, the young man taking a swig from a waterskin before resuming his tale. "I presume such was not the case here?"
"Yes... almost three years ago word came to us that the Gate had launched its armies for Amn. Perhaps it might've still been resolved with minimal loss of life, if not for... him." Anomen said the last word with disgust, shaking his head. "Bah! I spit on his name... he is unworthy to be spoken of."
"Who?" Imoen asked, her brow furrowing with concern as she listened.
"Who else?" Anomen sighed. "The new Lord of Murder. The man who claimed the Throne of Bhaal for his own. Bhaal reborn."
"What... what was his name on earth?" Aerie said, her eyes betraying the fear she felt as her heart pounded in her chest, hoping against hope it was not the man they all feared it would be. "Was it... was it Greywulf?"
"I... Greywulf? Forgive me, my lady, but the name is unfamiliar to me. I cannot say I know of whom you speak." he frowned, quite unclear as to why relief poured over the faces of every one of the adventurers before him. "Is this another of the details you felt I would not understand, Keldorn?"
"Something like that, Anomen." Keldorn exhaled. "Suffice to say that this Greywulf is why we are here... and who we need to find to get home. If he were the new Lord of Murder... well, it would make things infinitely more complicated."
"I am glad then, that my news is not as discomfiting as I had feared." Anomen said, nodding to Imoen and Aerie. "Nevertheless, I still curse the name of Sarevok... god or not, I shall never forgive him for the destruction he wrought within this city."
"Sarevok?!" Imoen's voice was a shocked cry, completely taken by surprise. Anomen looked up at her, noting the alarm in her face with a bit of concern. "Yes, ah... forgive me milady, I did not mean to cause you any alarm-"
"No... no it's fine." Imoen managed a weak smile, letting her eyes drop to the dirty and stone covered stairs before her, focusing on a particularly large piece of statue that had broken off and now rested there before them. "Go ahead... please."
"I... as you wish, my lady." Anomen nodded. "Using the power of the Iron Throne he made himself into a Duke of Baldur's Gate. He was the one who led the armies of the Gate through Amn, slaughtering all of our attempts to stop him. He felt that the bloodbath would resurrect the power of his father and he was right. With each battle he grew in power and strength... by the time he arrived at the gates of Athkatla, there were little more than city guards to defend us from his onslaught."
"They broke through the outer walls on the fifth day of the siege, their forces sweeping through the city, putting it to the torch and killing all who got in their way." Anomen recited bitterly. "The screams of the dying, the cries for help... it is seared into my hearing forever, Keldorn. They left none alive; everyone was equal prey to them. Shadow Thieves, merchants, city guards..."
"And paladins. The Order, right?" Imoen said softly, understanding as Anomen met her glance and nodded quietly.
"Yes. The Order had tried to stay neutral in the conflict from the beginning, but by the time we had seen the extent of Sarevok's evil it was too late. The Order spread all of its knights and paladins within the ranks of the city guard, defending each and every stronghold left in the city as they swept through... it was doomed from the beginning." Anomen clenched one fist as he relived the memory in his mind's eye. "So many died... each one fighting to keep the enemy out, to push them back away from the Order Hall..."
Anomen abruptly looked up, turning his gaze to Keldorn. "You... you were there. At the end. The final battle, the final stand of the Radiant Heart. I can still see it... as clear as day. Their armies finally reached these very steps... only to find the three greatest members of the order standing guard. Sir Ryan Trawl, Prelate Wessaren and Sir Keldorn Firecam. All three of you, each one with blades drawn and gleaming in the noonday sun like shards of pure light itself... I shall never forget it as long as I live. They tried to rush you, but the three of you would not be taken- man after man fell beneath your swords, your drive unmatched, your skill flawless."
The young men paused, then shook his head, remembering the end. "But it was not enough. Not against Sarevok. He challenged you himself... the Prelate was the first to fall. Sir Ryan Trawl died by his hand soon after, but you... you might've done the impossible. You might've killed him yourself, alone and exhausted, but you had the chance. Your sword was past his, ready to strike... but he was too powerful by then. A single word of power and the essence of Bhaal rose up and claimed you. A flash of dark magic and it was all over."
Keldorn nodded as Anomen grew silent, Imoen popped up with a question, breaking the former squire from his daze of memory. "What about you? How did you survive?"
Anomen laughed bitterly, clenching his fist tightly around the handle of his mace. "I was fighting with city guards at the time, but I saw the battle in the distance. As soon as I saw the last of you fall, they put the Order House to the torch; I charged Sarevok like a fool, shouting challenges and damnations as I hurtled toward him... I was on the ground before I knew what had happened."
"And he spared you?" Aerie asked with surprise.
"Yes... he spared me, preferring to let me live in disgrace and see the results of my failure than give me the grace of an honorable death." he flexed one hand, testing its strength as he spoke. "Not to say he did not take his energies out on me while I was under his heel... I did not fully recover from my injuries until a number of weeks after the battle had ended. His taunts still ring in my ears now, calling me a failed whelp whose only purpose would be to witness the death of the Order I was too unworthy to join-"
Anomen stopped for a moment, biting his tongue as though having spoken too much, but Keldorn had not missed a thing. "Anomen, you said previously that you were a former squire of the Order... what happened? Were you not knighted?"
"I... no, Keldorn. No, I failed the tests some days before the war began in earnest." he said quietly, shame entering his voice. "My anger, the rage I could not suppress, that choked my heart and my deeds... I could never overcome it completely. Not then, at least."
"If you failed the tests, then why do you guard this place so fiercely? Why do you preserve the memory of the Radiant Heart with such drive?" Keldorn frowned, his eyes holding no sign of accusation despite Anomen's admission.
"I... I was enraged at the time. Furious that the Order to which I had devoted so much of my life had cast me out... but when I saw the Hall burning, the greatest members of its ranks falling... all that anger, all that rage was channeled towards the murderers who had killed my greatest heroes..." Anomen looked up, blinking twice as though awakening from a dream. "I am no longer part of the Order, that much is true, but I spoke the truth when I said I shall preserve its ideals and ideas until the day I die. I hope... hope to rebuild someday. To restore the Order to its rightful place and stature, even if I am not a part of it."
"And what of Sarevok? After he had sacked Athkatla, where did he go then?" Imoen prodded, unable to quell the curiosity of this almost-timeline.
"He turned on his own men. Led his armies back to the Gate itself and destroyed the city. Baldur's Gate is still rebuilding, just as we are." Anomen shook his head, bowed in anger and shame. "The war between the nations had ended... but the Bhaalspawn wars had just begun."
"Bhaalspawn wars?" Aerie asked hesitantly. "I thought you said Sarevok ascended to the throne of Bhaal..."
"He did, but not until the rest of his siblings were dead." Anomen growled, his beard and moustache wrinkling as he frowned in anger. "Others had been biding their time too, amassing armies of their own... six in particular. Six other Bhaalspawn challenged Sarevok for the Throne... each one falling to his might in the end. None of them really stood a chance, they were too little, too late... but the last came close. Nobody saw her coming."
"Who was she?" Imoen asked, her voice shrinking, already knowing the inevitable answer and hating the words that would surely come-
"Imoen. Her name was Imoen." Anomen said grimly. "I never saw her myself, but the tales spoke of her beauty, her power... and her evil. Reports told of her always smiling, never dark or gritty like the others... but she was no less wicked. Every death, every kill she made was always with a smile, laughing and joking and grinning as she slid a knife into her victims' chest. Perhaps worse than those whose evil was readily visible; hers was hidden under a mask of joy and mirth."
Imoen stood up, taking an involuntary step, away from Anomen. The former squire noticed, frowning as he rose as well, extending one hand. "I... I am sorry, my lady, I hope my words did not disturb you. Forgive me if they have. I... I fear I do not even know your names, with the exception of Sir Keldorn- if you desire I shall stop my discourse. Dark subjects, I know."
"I... I just need to take a quick walk. Clear my head." Imoen stuttered, forcing a weak smile. "Please, continue."
Aerie stood and walked with her, half supporting her as the two slipped down the streets of the once majestic Temple District, leaving the two warriors behind. They passed several city blocks, wreckage and half-rebuilt structures that were just good enough to provide shelter to those who yet remained in the city. People stared from their windows, never saying a word to the pair as they continued, Aerie rubbing Imoen's back with her hand, doing her best to comfort the thief-mage amidst the turmoil brewing within her own mind. They crossed the bridge in the center of the district, Imoen finally stopping, unable to walk any further as she sank to her knees, tears sliding down her face. "Imoen? Don't worry, I'm here for you... it's going to be okay. You're going to be okay-"
"No! I'm not okay! This is wrong, all of this is all wrong, I..." Imoen shook her head angrily, glaring up at Aerie's sympathetic visage. "What happened?! Why would I... how did all of this happen?"
"Perhaps I can help you two ladies. These streets are not to be taken lightly... and from the state of your friend, I doubt you are in well enough condition to survive for too long." a rough voice caught them off guard, both looking up in fear as two shadowed figures came across the bridge towards them, one of the two towering over the girls in height and stature, the other tall but not nearly so broad.
"We can take care of ourselves... perhaps you'd best tell us who you are before we start taking any sort of orders. Who... who are you?" Aerie asked with as much authority and power in her voice that she could muster, unconsciously aware that the two had left their weapons back with Keldorn and Anomen. Still, if it was a fight they were facing, they were no pushovers in the arcane realm...
"Do not fear, I truly mean you no harm... unless you are an enemy of those who would seek to rebuild the city." The smaller man stepped into the light. His gray beard was over-grown and his leather armor was tattered, but serviceable. One eye patch covered his right eye, but his left was a sharp as an eagle's. "Berinvar is what I am called. This man here is my... bodyguard, of sorts. You'll forgive him, but he doesn't speak."
Imoen and Aerie gasped, gazing upon the unmistakable visage of Minsc, slipping into the light. He gazed at them with narrowed eyes, a barely contained anger burning in his features. He grunted once, then settled, glancing at Berinvar. "Minsc? Minsc, it's you! I-"
Imoen launched herself towards him, but the mammoth ranger merely recoiled, pushing her away with a growl. Berinvar raised an eyebrow, taking the two girls in once more, this time with a bit more suspicion. "Do you... know, this ranger, by any chance?"
"He was... no. No, I guess not." Imoen murmured, looking at the man. "Why... why doesn't he speak?"
"Not sure exactly." Berinvar frowned. "From what little I do know of him, he was from up north; Rashemen, I think. Failed his mission, assigned to protect a witch of sorts. Went mad with grief. All he lives for is battle and vengeance now... we found him in a gnoll stronghold near the Gate; every one of the things had been slaughtered. He would have killed us if our mages hadn't been able to subdue him. We didn't speak much, but from what we did say he knows that we'll provide him with the opportunity for vengeance and battle, but for the right side at least. Still, you seemed like you knew him. Are you sure he means nothing to you?"
"No... I don't know this man... not this man at all." Aerie said sadly, turning away from Minsc. "But I do know you. Berinvar, you said? You're a Harper, right?"
"Yes, that I am." Berinvar chuckled. "Watch these two women, Minsc; they're sharper than they look. How do you know me, pray tell? Rumors, perhaps? I am, after all, one of the few Harpers left in this city."
"We... we were friends with some Harpers who knew you. Once." Aerie chose her words carefully, gauging his reaction. "Jaheira... do you remember her?"
"Oh yes, Jaheira." Berinvar nodded. "Shame, how she went. Heroic, but still a shame. Our greatest members, falling like the rest of this worlds' heroes in the Bhaalspawn wars."
"How did... how did she die?"
"Like her husband." Berinvar answered, leaning against a ruined railing upon the bridge's eastern side. "Fighting against those Bhaalspawn who battled for control of the Throne of Bhaal. She and Khalid, whom I assume you knew as well if the names you somehow already know are any indication, were sent by Gorion along with a group of other Harpers to evacuate a town before it was closed in upon by Sarevok's armies. He didn't know that the Laughing Death's armies were already there."
"The Laughing Death?" Aerie recoiled at the ugly pairing of words, so unnatural yet forced together in this terrible alternate world.
"It's what they called her. The last of the Bhaalspawn to challenge Sarevok. Imoen. Gorion's ward." Berinvar shook his head in disgust. "The old man went to challenge her himself. Managed to sneak into her very tent, so I heard. Tried to talk with her, reason with her-"
"But she killed him anyway. Slaughtered him without pity... just a great big laugh and a grin on her face." Imoen whispered, cutting him off as the tears started again. "All wrong... this world- I'm sorry. So sorry..."
Berinvar frowned, taking a step forward, but Aerie merely came to her side again and embraced her, looking up at Berinvar and Minsc with an apologetic expression. "Please excuse her... she's been through a lot today. She'll be fine... just fine."
"Well then... at least let us take you with us back to safety. We were meeting another ally at the old base of the Radiant Heart here in the city; you will be safe there. He protects the place quite well; hopes to rebuild the Order, I think."
"We have a friend there too; we'll go with you." Aerie smiled, holding Imoen tight as they continued on their way, returning to Keldorn and Anomen, Imoen's eyes never leaving the ground as Aerie whispered words of comfort in the girl's ear.
X X X X X X X
For a city that had been decimated by war, one that looked ready to collapse on itself from the outside... the inner workings were not all that different from its glory days. The Slums were the worst, the Temples in better condition... but the Government District and the Promenade- both had been given the most attention; people still lived and worked their hardest to stay alive within. Some children could even be seen on the streets, playing amidst the rubble and dirt, an odd sight for such dark times.
Still, it was enough to give Imoen's dark spirits a bit of lift as they entered what had once been Waukeen's Promenade, the three having left the Order Hall a little less than an hour prior. She watched them scamper across the way, shouting cries of laughter and delight as they chased one another... Imoen smiled weakly while Keldorn scanned the area with the directions given to them.
"Where did Anomen say this man was? A shop here in the Promenade?"
"Yes... he said there was a spellcaster of minor power who had made residence here in Athkatla before the wars; nothing too powerful, but he owns a shop and provides the survivor's mages with all the scrolls they need for the defense of this place. Does what he can to help out; he might be able to give us some kind of location of Greywulf."
"I hope so." Aerie shuddered. "I've had just about enough of this world... it's so terrible. To think that we might be stuck here forever if we can't find him..."
"We'll find him." Keldorn said assuringly. "With any luck this mage will have the components to make a location spell of sorts."
They walked in silence for a time yet, still traveling through the great lengths of the Promenade's center. Imoen turned her gaze upward, looking at the sun, still high in the noonday- she turned her head back down, a look of disgust crossing her face. "What kind of world is this, Aerie? What kind of wish did he make to cause this?!"
"I think... I think I might have the answer to that." Keldorn said grimly, gesturing for them to follow as a small makeshift building, off to one end of the Promenade came into view, a sign stating Arcane Spells and Scrolls adorning the front of it. "From everything I've gathered, from this world's history... things didn't go as planned. Gorion only had one ward... you. Imoen. Minsc never met up with a group of adventurers to save Dynaheir. Gorion never met his end at Sarevok's hands on the road to Candlekeep, nor did Jaheira and Khalid meet you two at the Friendly Arm Inn. Greywulf was never a part of your life, or Gorion's. Because of it, no adventuring group ever teamed up to find the cause of the iron crisis. Sarevok was never stopped. And just like that... he took the Throne as he had intended."
"I surmise that Greywulf was brought into Gorion's life because he was a Bhaalspawn." Keldorn continued, looking the place up and down one as they halted before it, as though assuring himself it was the right location. "And still, Sarevok should have hunted him down had he been a threat to his claim over the Throne."
Keldorn pushed the door open, a small bell ringing as he did, signaling their presence. "The fact Sarevok didn't... that you never had a balance, a counter to your life in Candlekeep, tipping you into darkness... that nobody of import or power has even heard of Greywulf, it makes me think that Greywulf's greatest wish- his only wish- would be to be rid of the taint. To have never been born a Bhaalspawn, just a regular... everyday... mortal..."
Keldorn froze as his words trailed off; all three of them stood stock still, looking at Imoen's brother, Aerie's savior, and Keldorn's ally. He stood before them in a simple gray robe, his brownish hair combed back with a welcoming, unworried and unscarred face staring back at them. "Hello there! Welcome to my little shop here... so what can I do for you?"
