"Oh no you don't!" Coran protested, throwing himself between Draconis and the knife wielding drow.
"You told me that Bhaal came back as tall as the treetops in the Umar Hills, and that was from a sacrifice of just one dragon!" Viconia steamed, her eyes blazing. "This is our only chance. Get out of the way or I will make you!"
"Kill me and Bhaal will not help you. That I guarantee!" Coran retorted, folding his slight but toned arms. Viconia hissed in frustration. He could be wrong. After all Bhaal needed the Servant of all Faiths. Yet Coran was his best friend in the cosmos and the elf was so sure that he was not even troubling to defend himself. "Stand aside, idiot, or we all die!" Viconia howled.
Her voice echoed in the cold, stone cloister. Behind their filthy walls the monks had gone silent. Were they still lucid enough after their long isolation to understand what was happening? Did they expect to live or die and did they even care? Jaheira looked at the bricked-up cells and shuddered. It was hard to imagine any lifestyle less aligned to the intent of nature.
Coran curled his fingerless gloves resolutely around his arms, legs slightly apart. Viconia summoned her flaming sword and slashed at the air in front of his face in an effort to intimidate him, but the elf did not so much as blink. He was very sure of Bhaal's love.
"Viconia-" Anomen began, but Rasaad cut him off.
"Forgive me, but I find myself somewhat lost," the monk ventured. "What exactly is the problem here?"
"Viconia intends to sacrifice Draconis to Bhaal," Coran told him between gritted teeth.
"He is supposed to have come back vast after you two dipped the girdle in Shadow dragon blood!" Viconia snapped, pointing at Anomen who was wearing its scaley remains for armour. "Bhaal is our only way past Abazigal! Are you willing to die to save that?"
She waved her sword furiously at Draconis, who whimpered and cowered against the wall. The stench down here was already rancid from the slop buckets but his contribution was starting to make itself smelled.
"I want to go home," Draconis whimpered.
"We are not killing him!" Coran insisted.
"We don't need to-" Anomen tried again patiently, but once more the knight found himself cut off.
He slammed his helmet against the brickwork in irritation. It rang out with a clamouring echo but the rest of the party were too preoccupied with their bickering to notice.
"For once, I agree with Viconia!" Jaheira said, as though that settled the matter. "We should put this creature out of his misery regardless, and if doing so brings us closer to Arowan I say all to the good!"
"Draconis wasn't in a state of misery until you two started threatening to murder him!" Coran shouted. "Rasaad, you must agree with me on this!"
"You know, darthiir, you are almost attractive when you put your foot down," purred Viconia.
She ran a finger tantalizingly up Coran's arm, but for once the elf was not moved. He was not quite over the scorching he had received at Arowan's hands and taking on her equal and opposite held little appeal at that moment in time.
Coran was not Viconia's target, however. As she had intended, Rasaad blanched. The elf had once been a love rival for Arowan too, and the threat of history repeating itself was enough to sour any alliance between the two of them. Viconia fluttered her eyelashes at the elf, for the sake of rubbing salt into Rasaad's wounds.
"I…" Rasaad wrestled with is conscience. Yet despite his steps down the path of the Twofold Trust, and his newly found sense of the grey areas in morality, he could not bring himself to murder an innocent in cold blood. "I cannot do this Viconia."
"Two for and two against!" said Jaheira. "Anomen?"
For the first time in the conversation, the party turned their attention to him and were surprised to see that he was red in the face and furious.
"As I have been trying to point out for the past five minutes, if you blasted wenches would let me fit a word in edgeways," he growled, "We already have a pile of dead dragons in human form stacked up in the empty cloister! Why not use them instead?"
The others blinked stupidly. In all of the drama that had followed, they had quite forgotten that Abazigal had sent down rescue parties before coming for his son himself.
"Oh," was all Viconia could think to say, as her flaming sword faded away in shame.
"Right," muttered Coran looking embarrassed. He held a sheepish arm out to Viconia. "Shall we?"
"Just remember not to actually call his name until we're close to the surface," snapped Anomen. "Remember the size of this cloister relative to the potential size of Bhaal."
"We are not idiots!" retorted Jaheira indignantly.
This was a bit rich, considering that they had forgotten a pile of slaughtered dragons. Anomen gave her a look that came dangerously close to earning him a slap.
"What do I do?" Viconia asked, holding onto Coran's forearm as they made their way to the cell containing the bodies and knelt down.
"Just dip the girdle in the blood to get it all charged up and then say his name," the elf told her. "But Anomen is right, we'd best wait until we're close to the surface. He was enormous with the power of just one dragon, gods alone know what size he'll grow to with this lot. He could probably flatten Abazigal by sitting on him."
"That's a point!" exclaimed Jaheira. "If Sarevok did not survive then Abazigal is the last intact Bhaalspawn, apart from Arowan. If he dies…"
The others fell silent. If the dragon died then the essence would transfer immediately to Arowan. She would become, they had been told, indestructible to all intents and purposes, for anyone except for Viconia. Imbued with the combined blessings of the other gods she alone would have the power to stop her.
"We'll have to risk it," she said resolutely, her slender hand bunching into a determined fist around the girdle. "With any luck Bhaal will have the sense not to kill Abazigal outright."
The others looked doubtful at her use of 'Bhaal' and 'sense' in the same sentence but nobody had any better ideas and if they did not do something soon there was a risk that Abazigal might think of a way to flush them out of the cloister. A sleeping spell perhaps, of a bomb full of stun spores.
Hoping for the best, Viconia sliced open the belly of one of the dead dragons and dipped the Girdle of Femininity into his blood. It seeped into the gem in the centre of the girdle making it glow a hot red. There was no reason to suppose that their blood would be any less potent in human form and they knew that it mattered not a jot that the dead beings had not been killed with Bhaal specifically in mind. So long as they dedicated them to him now, using his own artefact.
"May I be of assistance?" asked Onoros as they prepared to make their way back into the light.
"You have done enough brother," Rasaad replied coldly.
"If we survive all of this, you may take care of Draconis. That is how you may help," Coran told him. "And Balthazar too, I suppose, if he yet draws breath."
"I'm ready," declared Viconia, tugging the Girdle out of the last dragon belly. "It looks promising, at least."
This was an understatement. Loaded with all that fresh dragon blood, Bhaal's artefact was glowing with barely repressed power.
"Do you suppose Sarevok yet lives?" asked Rasaad in hushed tones as they climbed the stairs.
"We are about to find out," replied Jaheira indifferently.
It was a relief to leave the oppressive cloister behind. Even though the lingering smoke from the monks' and dragons' battle was so itchy it made Anomen want to extract his own lungs and scratch them, it beat the thin stale atmosphere they had left to fester beneath them.
"I can hear you…" Abazigal hissed as they neared the exit. "I can smell you… Hop on out little toads. You have nothing to be afraid of. I have no reason to harm you. Release my son and you can go free."
This was a transparent lie, but they were not yet close enough to the surface to unleash the power of the girdle without squashing themselves like insects between the walls and Bhaal's bulk.
"We'll swap him for Sarevok!" Viconia suggested, edging her way closer to the light. It stung their eyes, and the heat was starting to creep up a little, though it was later in the day and no longer so overpowering as when they had first come down here.
"Alas, that is impossible," Abazigal chuckled.
"Why so?" called Viconia, quickening the pace of her climb. All she needed to do was keep him talking, delay the dragon's attack until they were close enough.
"Your friend is already deceased," the dragon replied. "But if it is of any comfort, his end was quicker than Balthazar's will be. Sarevok chose to hold onto our father's essence to the last, a decision I respect over the choice the monk made. I made sure the end, when it came, was swift and relatively painless."
Rasaad hung his head but Viconia nodded approvingly. They each had their own opinions about the choice Sarevok had made. Jaheira, who was fond of neither Sarevok nor Bhaal, made a disparaging little noise in the back of her throat while Anomen merely shrugged. Coran's face, however, crumpled into a frown. He had been almost as conflicted about Sarevok's choice as the Bhaalspawn himself.
"Cheer up," Viconia told Rasaad with a nasty grin. "You're about to see him again after all. Bhaal!"
As soon as the god's name left her lips the girdle began to vibrate with such alarming force that she almost dropped it back down the spiral stairwell, which would have ended badly for all concerned. Just managing to keep her grip, she hurled it like a grenade toward the light.
"What is-" Abazigal began, but his voice warped into a cross between a stepped-on-cat and nails down a blackboard and his words were lost. The party exchanged looks then raced for the exit.
Towering over the courtyard stood Bhaal. He was the same mammoth size as when he had faced Firkraag in the Umar hills but the increase in power was immediately obvious. Charged by not one but a whole pile of dragons, the ground bubbled beneath his vast paws and each wag of his tail left an acrid, sizzling trail in the air behind it.
"His… his eyes…" Rasaad said weakly.
Bhaal's eyes were shining with a solid golden glow. He was stalking Abazigal, who shivered, his minions fleeing as the force of god-terror enveloped them. The sun was starting to set over the horizon, lending the god a menacing fiery backdrop. His dragon son cringed, tail curling between his hind legs like a frightened cat.
HAHAHAHA! I MADE THE RIGHT CHOICE!
Sarevok's crowing tone was added to the voice of Bhaal, and with this taste of unbridled power he seemed more than content with his decision. Still tied to the wall, Balthazar howled with fright or pain, it was hard to tell which. The former Bhaalspawn's legs had given out entirely and his arms were stretched at an angle which no arms should ever be. Beside him dangled an empty rope, suspended from one of the ruined canon. Its victim Sarevok had perished and dusted with his Bhaal essence intact.
As Bhaal, he seemed pleased with the brevity of his latest death.
"Father!" Abazigal whined. "I destroyed them for you! I did all of this for you to hasten your return! Let me serve at your right-hand side as I was promised!"
ALL FOR ME? HMMM… LET ME SEE IF I CAN'T THINK OF A SUITABLE WAY TO REPAY YOU.
"Father please!"
I KNOW. HOW ABOUT I MAKE YOU A DEITY?
With the unstoppable force of a gnomish steam tank, Bhaal pounced on the dragon, pinning him easily to the ground. Abazigal snapped feebly, thrashing his reptilian body back and forth beneath Bhaal's paws. There was a flash of teeth closing over his long neck.
"No, stop!" howled Viconia.
Bhaal released his grip, and Abazigal flopped backward. Blood was oozing from two puncture wounds into the courtyard as he jerked and twitched. Bhaal looked back with interest at the party, shining eyes blazing out of their lidless sockets.
I HAVE RETURNED! MY STRENGTH, MY POWER… THE COSMOS IS IN MY GRASP ONCE MORE!
"Not for long you idiot!" screeched Viconia as she, Anomen and Jaheira raced forward to heal the stricken dragon. Merging with Sarevok did not appear to have made the notoriously stupid Lord of Murder any cleverer. "Abazigal is the last Bhaalspawn left before Arowan!"
Bhaal glanced down at the dragon, who was clutching at his neck. Blood bubbled from his fanged jaws as he struggled to breathe and hold onto the last threads of his life.
SHIT.
With three healers, they were succeeding in delaying Abazigal's demise but between them they did not have the power to do more than postpone the inevitable. Something nasty and corrosive in Bhaal's saliva was eating away at the wound. Every time they had it near closed it would smoulder open again with a powerful reek of vinegar.
"Bhaal, you'll have to heal him!" panted Jaheira wiping the sweat from her brow.
IT WILL TAKE MOST OF THE POWER YOU HAVE GIVEN ME TO RESTORE A CREATURE OF THAT MAGNITUDE.
"You have no choice!" Rasaad reprimanded him. "Your rash actions will hand your essence to Arowan and she already has a two-day head start upon us. She may already be as far north as the Cloud Peaks by now. How long will it take her to complete the ritual once she initiates it?"
THREE DAYS.
"And she will be invulnerable to all intents and purposes, save to the Servant of all Faiths!" Anomen raged. "Heal Abazigal, Bhaal! Do it now!"
IF I RESTORE THE DRAGON, WHAT IS TO STOP HIM TAKING THE ESSENCE? WHAT IS TO PREVENT HIM FROM OBLITERATING YOU ALL?
Bhaal looked panicked for a moment as the voices in his head conferred frantically with one another. Then slowly he padded over to the healers who were fast exhausting their repertoire of spells. Fatigue was settling upon them. They would need rest soon.
I HAVE A BETTER IDEA. I'LL TRANSPORT YOU LIKE I TRANSPORTED BODHI'S HEART.
"You can do that?" blinked Rasaad.
IT WILL TAKE A LOT MORE POWER THAN MOVING THE HEART, BUT IT SEEMS I HAVE A LOT MORE POWER. THE QUESTION IS WHERE TO?
"Arowan is headed to Baldur's Gate," said Rasaad at once.
"Yes, but she might change her mind when she feels Bhaal's power within her," Jaheira mused. "All she needs is somewhere she could hide for three days while she completes the ritual. Any cave in the wilderness might suffice."
"Then we need somewhere with a lot of healers," said Coran. "Somewhere they can keep Abazigal from dying for a good long while."
"Wherever it is we had better get there quickly!" Viconia snapped.
A thin layer of perspiration was appearing over her face from the sheer effort of keeping the dragon from slipping away. He had stopped thrashing now, his tail was flopping limply from side to side and his eyes were starting to dim.
"There's the Twofold Temple," suggested Rasaad.
"I was going to say the Order of the Radiant Heart," said Anomen.
PICK ONE.
"The Order," decided Jaheira who, through sheer force of personality, seemed to have resumed her place as party leader by default. Viconia started to make a noise of dissent but Jaheira interrupted her. "I know you have some bad blood with them but they are, at least, decidedly on our side. If we go to the Twofold we will have to cross mountains to follow Arowan to Baldur's Gate. Whereas in Athkatla we can buy ourselves some horses and ride there."
"A valid consideration," conceded Viconia reluctantly. She disliked Jaheira, but she loathed climbing mountains more.
"And unlike the monks of the Twofold Trust," Anomen said, looking at Rasaad with just a hint of smugness, "The knights of the Order are unlikely to get high on herbs and forget what it is they are supposed to be doing. Abazigal will be in safer hands with us."
Rasaad folded his broad arms with a slightly petulant expression but they were right and he knew it. Bhaal seemed to agree and prompted them.
YOU NEED TO PHRASE IT AS A PRAYER. ALL OF YOU.
"Out of the question!"
"Absolutely not!"
"Me? Pray to the Lord of Murder?"
"Pray to a male?!"
Aside from Coran, who had already defiled his lips once in an appeal to Bhaal, everyone protested at the same time and with vigour.
"I don't see that we have much choice," the elf sighed. "If it makes you feel better, I will say the words, you guys can just join in with the Amen. Will that do, Bhaal?"
I SUPPOSE. JOIN IN A CIRCLE AND HOLD HANDS. DON'T FORGET TO INCLUDE ABAZIGAL.
"I don't think he's in a state to pray."
DOESN'T MATTER. I'M NOT TRANSPORTING HIM FOR HIS BENEFIT, IT'LL BE YOUR PRAYERS I'M ANSWERING.
Jaheira scowled at Bhaal. She was filthy and dishevelled like the rest of them from their long and arduous adventures in this part of Faerun. It made an unnatural contrast with her wig which, protected by enchantments, still lacked a single hair out of place. As far as the druid was concerned the god was enjoying this too much. She was far from convinced that the hand holding was necessary either.
"C'mon," murmured Coran holding out his hands to her and Viconia. "Remember it's the will of all gods that we make this work, so our own can't be too offended."
"You hope," grumbled Anomen, but he took Jaheira's hand in his right and Rasaad's in his left.
That left Viconia to take Rasaad's hand. She recoiled at first, but to insist on swapping positions with someone at this juncture was more petty than even the drow was prepared to appear. Loathing herself for it, she laced her fingers with his own, digging in her nails to make him wince. All it served to do was remind him of other, more intimate occasions when she had clawed him.
Coran took a deep breath. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Onoros had snuck out of the crypt and was cutting down his injured master. Had Balthazar fried his own brain as he had Draconis's? It certainly looked that way from the child-like manner in which the ex-Bhaalspawn curled into his friend for comfort. The elf could only hope that Onoros and the surviving cloistered monks would look after them. He liked to think so, but it was out of his hands. He took a deep breath.
"Mighty Bhaal, Lord of Murder, do us a favour and drop us off outside the Order of the Radiant Heart," Coran sighed. "With Abazigal please and ideally not on top of anyone. Amen."
"Amen," the others echoed through gritted teeth.
GRANTED, BUT YOU REALLY NEED TO WORK ON YOUR PRAYERS. IN MY HAYDAY I WOULD HAVE SMITED MY FOLLOWERS FOR SUCH A PITIFUL EFFORT.
"Smote," Jaheira corrected him snootily. "You would have smote them, not smited." He growled at her.
WHEN I RETURN TO POWER I WILL CREATE A SPECIAL PLACE IN THE ABYSS FOR PEOPLE WHO CORRECT MY GRAMMAR. NOW SHUT UP AND LET ME FOCUS.
Bhaal concentrated but it was easier for him than moving Bodhi's heart had been. For one thing he knew the exact location of both target and destination and for another he was less out of practise. Coran expected to feel a rush of wind or a surge of magical energy when Bhaal transported them but there was nothing at all. One second he was in Amketheran and the next he was standing outside the Order of the Radiant Heart with his party, Bhaal and a dying dragon.
The sudden appearance of a giant reptile in the middle of the Temple District caused less of a commotion than one might imagine. This was due entirely to the distracting presence of Bhaal. He loomed over the people, blocking off an entire bridge, his bald skinless tail wagging happily.
Many of the witnesses to this event followed the standard protocol of wetting themselves from the force of god-terror and fleeing in all directions. However, some of the denizens of the Temple District were accustomed to having some direct contact with their deities and stood their ground.
Cheerfully, with the small reserves of energy that remained to him after transporting so many powerful beings such a vast distance, Bhaal began to prance around snarling at people and making toe-curling noises. He bounded away in the direction of the Talos' temple, drawing attention from the party which gave them time to explain the situation to the Order doormen and haul Abazigal out of sight without attracting much notice.
Viconia wrenched her hand free of Rasaad's but Anomen's fingers stayed laced around Jaheira's for a lingering moment… until she gave him a look and he released her.
"Well," laughed Anomen as Bhaal cheerfully flicked the stone bust of a rival god over the bridge with one long claw, "Home sweet home!"