Shadows Of The Knight

by Speaker-to-Customers

Sequel to Black Knight but you don't need to wait for that one to be completed before reading this. Captured by Irenicus, with some of her friends slain and even worse having been done to others, T'rissae must work with Jaheira to survive and rescue Viconia and Imoen. The mutual dislike between them is going to make that difficult...

8. Bloodshot Eyes

Chapter Eight: Bloodshot Eyes

Minister Lloyd rewarded us with a suit of leather armor that had once belonged to an ancestor of his. It might not have seemed like much of a reward, on first glance, but on a second look it was obvious that it was highly enchanted. Identifying it revealed it to be a legendary piece named The Night's Gift, blessed by Shar and with the essence of night woven into it, five times enchanted making it as protective as plate mail and incredibly light, and enhancing the ability of a thief or ranger to hide in shadows by a significant degree. A wonderful item and its origin with Shar made Viconia treat it with reverence. Yoshimo took it to replace his Shadow Armor. The mayor thought that it might not be enough, and said that he might be able to come up with some gold in addition, but I told him that the armor was quite enough. None of my comrades disagreed.

We left the body of Merella with the mayor, who promised that he would see to a fitting burial, and went off to the little market-place to sell off our loot and the now surplus Shadow Armor. We made a considerable sum but these merchants had little that we wished to purchase. We rested in the inn and then set off back to Athkatla. The Adventurers' Mart would be the place to spend our cash.

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It seemed that every time we entered Waukeen's Promenade we were accosted and, on this occasion, it happened twice in succession. First a messenger sought out Nalia. Her father's funeral was being held very shortly, in the Graveyard District, and he had found her only just in time. She would have to go almost directly there to be in time for the beginning of the service.

Hard on the heels of that messenger came another who wished to speak to us; this time to Jaheira. Another Harper. He was an old mentor of Jaheira's named Dermin Courtierdale, who had been the one to recruit Jaheira and Khalid into the Harpers in the first place, and she greeted him with pleasure. Her pleasure quickly dissipated as he spoke.

This was about the killing of Galvarey and his minions, and the second group of Harpers we had fought on the road to Imnesvale, and Dermin refused to listen to Jaheira's explanations. He told her that she had to exact justice on me, for the deaths, and there was no alternative. Jaheira refused. He pressed her and she declared that she was renouncing her life as a Harper. Dermin issued some veiled threats and departed.

I tried to be supportive to Jaheira, and I appreciated her stand, but I foresaw more attacks by Harpers in our future. It occurred to me that paying a call on the Order of the Radiant Heart might be advisable after all. Being associated with them might offer a significant degree of protection from Harper attempts at revenge.

First, of course, Nalia had to attend her father's funeral and I thought it appropriate that we should all go. The other guests were a mixed bunch. A dwarf named Hurgan Stoneblade, an old comrade-in-arms of Lord De'Arnise, was the most convivial company. He talked of past adventures and was obviously both fond of Nalia and a great friend of the deceased. He showed no sign of being prejudiced against Drow and I quite enjoyed conversing with him. A Lord Milsire Donderbeg talked admiringly of Lord De'Arnise's integrity and seemed less arrogant than most nobles.

Others were less pleasant company. A Lady Tandolan talked pityingly of the privations Nalia had to endure, and the company she was having to keep; Isaea Roenall, she said, had painted quite the unsavory picture. Nalia responded with distinctly forced politeness and Lady Tandolan didn't acknowledge my presence at all.

Nalia's Aunt Delcia was as horrible as before, or even more so, speaking to Nalia as if she were a disobedient child and to me as if I was a beggar gatecrashing the event. And then there were the Roenalls.

Lord Farthington Roenall spent most of his time with Lady Delcia. They seemed to be close friends, at the least, and I might have thought them even more than friends had Lord Roenall not mentioned his wife when talking to Nalia – although I suppose that did not rule out an intimate relationship on the side, hard as it was for me to believe that anyone would willingly take the horrible Lady Delcia to bed. He did speak kindly to Nalia, talking of her father in respectful terms, but did not even deign to notice the presence of me or the other members of our group. And Isaea…

He told Nalia that she was behaving like a petulant child, associating with vagabonds, and betraying her father's honor by refusing to honor the agreement to marry him. He pressed her, uttering veiled threats, and when I stood up for her he reacted with scorn.

"It can speak!" he sneered. "Nalia has trained you well. Oh, did I provoke you? Your reaction will be violent, no doubt. On your first move, I will have my guard cut you to pieces."

As a threat, this did not impress me. I assessed the guard as less of a threat to me than the average kobold. I had no desire to start anything at the funeral of Nalia's father and restricted myself to words. "She has stated her wishes," I said. "Whether you respect them or not, you will let them stand."

"Your comment is asinine," Isaea responded. "Obviously she does not know what her wishes should be. Just look at her company. I will leave… for now. This is unfinished."

Once the funeral service was complete, and we left the chapel, Nalia expressed her opinions.

"I'm sorry for that extended exchange," she said to me, "but he is such a… bounder, such a… a manipulating… a... Oh, to Hades with the manners, he is a complete bastard, and calling him that insults bastards everywhere!"

"Don't hold back," I said. "Tell me what you really think." That brought a smile to her face. "Has he always been that… driven?" I went on. "He seems quite intent on enforcing your betrothal. His family already have possession of your keep and lands. I fail to see why he would insist on a marriage to someone who can't stand him."

"He may wish to display her as a trophy, as he did with me," Viconia put in. "That I hated him did not concern him in the least, as he had power over me, and could force me to do his bidding. He delighted in my humiliation. And you are not unattractive, for a rivvil female, Nalia. You would look good at his side, and he would enjoy forcing you to copulate, although I suspect he would quickly tire of you and turn his attentions elsewhere."

Nalia grimaced. "That would be just like him," she said. "I think part of it may be that he fears that I would challenge his family's possession of the keep, once my birthday comes and I reach my majority, although I fear that such a challenge would be futile considering the amount of influence his family possesses. The other part… yes, Viconia, I think you have judged him well. If he were not the son of Lord Roenall I would think him capable of anything. Anything short of the criminal, that is." She sighed. "This has been too much to take in. Let us get away from here, and away from him. Lead on."

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My original intention had been to visit the Adventurers' Mart but I changed my mind. I led us, instead, to the Docks where I had heard that a library run by the monks of Oghma was located. I searched for information about Irenicus, and the vampire Bodhi, and the Cowled Wizard prison Spellhold. I found nothing that I did not already know. I looked for treatises on dragon-fighting, and picked up some useful tips, but not enough to make me feel confident about facing the Shadow Dragon or, even more so, Firkraag. And I searched for information about Kangaxx… and I found it.

Kangaxx, according to the sources I found, was a demi-lich. Long ago adventurers had sought to put an end to his evil but had only succeeded in imprisoning him. He could only be struck by weapons of the fourth level of enchantment or greater, meaning that of our weapons only Daystar would be able to harm him, and he was immune to most kinds of magical damage. On top of that, he was said to possess a mighty magical item, the Ring of Gaxx, which gave its wearer the power of regeneration to a degree far exceeding that given by the Ioun Stone we had found in the Temple of Amaunator. A mighty blow, with a sufficiently enchanted weapon, would injure him only for moments before healing as if he had not been touched.

The Netherese mages who had fought him had managed to separate him from his limbs and torso, and in so doing had bound him to his present tomb, but his skull, where his consciousness resided, had resisted all their efforts to destroy. They had sealed away his body parts in two tombs and had themselves become liches, although far weaker ones, in order to guard those pieces for eternity.

It seemed that the wisest course was to leave Kangaxx well alone. And yet… the more I read of the Ring of Gaxx, the more it seemed that it could be the key to rescuing Imoen and defeating Irenicus. As well as the power of regeneration, the ring was reputed to provide immunities to disease and poison and, perhaps most significant, to give a significant improvement to magic resistance. Against Irenicus, that could be crucial. I read on. Kangaxx's main modes of attack were said to be Death spells and spells of Imprisonment. Acquiring spells and items to protect against those would be vital. There was a four-times enchanted quarterstaff for sale at the Adventurers' Mart, and Jaheira was skilled with quarterstaff, and if she wore the Girdle of Hill Giant Strength she would be able to do considerable damage to the demi-lich… No, I feared it would not be enough. We would need still more before the plan would be feasible. A possibility for the future, perhaps, but not yet.

We went to the Sea's Bounty tavern to eat and sleep. I discovered that a secret door from the barroom led to a cavern which was a meeting place for pirates. I deemed this worth investigating and led us through. There were pirates present, and they took violent exception to their meeting being interrupted, but we had them outclassed. They had little loot worth the taking, save for a once-enchanted arming-sword and a few gems, but we took it anyway.

There was a smithy near the inn and we went there to sell off the pirates' gear. The blacksmith, a dwarf named Cromwell, told me that he did not deal in buying and selling but only in the creation of custom items and the repair of magical weapons and armor that were beyond the skills of a common smith. He told us that he would be able to restore the Gesen bow to its full potential if we could find a suitable enchanted string, and that he would have been able to make armor from the ankheg shell had we not left it behind in the Windspear Hills. Too late now, for even if I was willing to make the long trek there to collect it, by this time it would have rotted into uselessness. More interesting was that he claimed to be able to make superb armor from the scales of dragons. Of course, first we would have to kill the beasts…

We found another place to sell the pirate equipment and rested in the inn. We rose and departed early, before dawn, and came upon an encounter between a vampire woman and two Shadow Thieves. This was not a fight, unlike the previous encounter we had witnessed and intervened in, but a meeting in which the vampire appeared to be recruiting the thieves into another organization. We attacked the vampire, but a thief warned her of our approach, and she escaped us by turning into her gaseous form before Minsc could strike home with Azuredge. The two thieves attacked us, seemingly fearing that we would inform the Shadow Thieves of their betrayal, and we slew them. One of them had a document on his body that seemed almost to be a recruiting pamphlet, decrying the advantages of Shadow Thief membership and claiming that joining the new, unnamed, guild would be more to their benefit.

We showed the document to Renal Bloodscalp and he admitted that the guild had a problem with members defecting. He assured us that the situation was under control and it would not affect their ability to help me, once I paid the fifteen thousand to Gaelan Bayle, but I wasn't so sure. All I could do, for now, was to continue to fight the vampires whenever we came across them.

The sun was just rising by the time we had finished speaking to Renal and selling the gear we had taken from the dead traitors. I deemed it late enough to call upon the Order of the Radiant Heart, as recommended by Garren Windspear, for paladins were early risers by custom. We set off for the Temple District, where the Order's chapter house was located, but my plans went awry. As we passed the temple of Lathander, still well short of the Order headquarters, we came across a strange gathering.

A crowd of laborers and artisans were being harangued by a street preacher named Gaal. He was blind, his eyes mere sightless sockets, but did not seem to be overly hampered by his disability. He claimed that the gods were useless, either non-existent or so uncaring about mortals that they might as well not exist, and spoke of a new god, the Unseeing Eye, who would bring great knowledge and benefits to those willing to sacrifice their eyes and follow him. Raving lunacy, in my opinion, but despite protests by Dawnmaster Kreel of the Church of Lathander some of the peasantry seemed willing to listen and follow Gaal.

We would have continued on to the Order but an official of the Church of Helm, High Watcher Oisig, called out to us and asked us to accompany him to their temple. He said he wished to hire us as mercenaries in the service of Helm and I felt there was nothing to lose by listening to his offer. Inside the temple, he told us that he wished us to investigate the cult of the Unseeing Eye. Even some younger priests of Helm had fallen for the lies of Gaal, and disappeared, and he asked us to enter the sewers, where the cult seemed to be located, and learn their fates and, if possible, eliminate the cult. A paladin named Keldorn, a servant of Torm, had gone into the sewers already and he would be our ally if we desired.

Viconia felt that it was nothing to us if the gullible rivvin of the city chose to mutilate themselves. Nalia, of course, took the opposite view and thought that preying on the poor and vulnerable was horrible and the cult must be stopped. Jaheira declared that the cult was an affront against nature. I tended toward Nalia's and Jaheira's opinion and agreed that we would help.

The main sewer hub for Athkatla north of the river was below the Temple District. We found a sewer entrance and descended. In accordance with my usual practice, I decided to clear out the area of potential threats before making a specific effort to locate the cult. I led our group around the perimeter and came upon, not a threat, but a fence running a market stall.

An exceptionally odd place to do business, I thought, but Roger the Fence explained that it was quiet, there was no rent to pay to the city, and, most importantly, there were no prying guards. The only down side, he said, was that wandering beasts sometimes posed a threat. Currently he was having problems with a troll and he offered us five hundred danter to slay the monster.

A simple enough task. We slew the troll, received our reward, and bought some potions from him. He warned us of a band of adventurers who had taken up residence in this sewer hub, a formidable and well-equipped group, and they were demanding a toll from any who passed through and killing those unwilling to pay. This seemed worth investigating.

A band of kobolds led by a Rakshasa blocked our way to where the adventurers had their camp. The Rakshasa was immune to non-magical weapons but that mattered little, for we had plenty of enchanted ones. He had worn a magical cloak, the Cloak of the Sewers, which gave its wearer to transform into various sewer-dwelling creatures and acted as a Cloak of Protection but, unlike the regular cloak, could be worn in combination with magical armor or Rings of Protection. We kept that but returned to Roger to sell the other items acquired from the kobolds and, on the way, encountered and slew an otyugh.

When we eventually reached the band of extortionists we found ourselves in a tough fight. They were, as Roger had warned us, superbly equipped and they proved to be experienced and skillful also. They had a cleric, a mage, a dwarf armed with a throwing axe that returned to its thrower, and three other well-armed warriors. The dwarf was highly skilled with his weapon, the mage and cleric had numerous spells at their disposal, and they were a stern challenge. They tried to use a Fear spell against us, which I countered with a spell of my own, but then they concentrated on Nalia as removing a party's mage was always a sound tactic. She suffered several wounds and only a potion, and healing spells from both Viconia and Jaheira, kept her alive. The rest of us escaped almost unscathed and, with the aid of summoned monsters, we prevailed.

Their belongings included some of the finest items we had yet acquired in Amn. Three sets of full plate armor, one of which was enchanted. The twice-enchanted throwing axe. Two twice enchanted shields. A twice-enchanted, envenomed, flail. A Helm of Charm Protection… and another of the items that had been taken from us by Irenicus. The Helmet of Dumathoin, given to us by dwarven explorers we had aided at Coast Way Crossing on the way to fight the Crusade, and formerly worn by Minsc. It was enchanted to enhance the resilience of its wearer, and to lessen the impact of missiles, and Minsc was glad to have his property back. We returned to Roger to sell what we could not use and, on the way, fought goblins, kobolds, and a gray ooze. One of the kobolds hit Nalia with a fire arrow and she lost her temper and wiped out all the kobolds at once with a Fireball.

We sold our acquisitions to Roger and our funds went up to the point at which I could afford to purchase Balduran's Plate from the Adventurers' Mart. Again I was tempted, but as I now wore enchanted full plate from our recently-defeated foes I told myself that the slight extra benefits of Balduran's armor were not worth the enormous cost. We bought a few more potions, but nothing else, and resumed our onward course.

We found the paladin Keldorn, he whom we had been bidden by the Helmites to seek, engaged in slaying a zombie. He greeted us in somewhat guarded fashion. My race, and that of Viconia, caused him to look upon us with some distrust. He would have been willing to join us, nonetheless, but I decided that his attitude might cause friction and it would be better to proceed separately. He decided that it would be better for him to return to the Order of the Radiant Heart and departed. We continued on through a tunnel leading away from the main sewers.

The tunnel forked. One way led past a door we could not open and then to a gallery overlooking a chamber swarming with Shadows and Shadow Fiends. They could not reach us there, and we took advantage of our position to slay some of them with missile weapons, but they soon set off out of the chamber no doubt to reach us by way of another tunnel. We reversed our course and, as I expected, met the Shadows head on. We were prepared for this and they perished without causing us more than inconvenience. The ambush by Ettercaps, a little further on, caught us less well prepared and they managed to injure Jaheira before we were able to slay them all. Even worse was the trap we came to next.

A door slammed shut, cutting me off from the others, and trapping me in a chamber that began to fill up with poisonous gas. Two Vampiric Mists emerged through the gas vents and attacked me. There was a wheel, like those that sometimes can be found on water pipes, in the center of the chamber and I felt that turning it might help and could hardly make the situation worse. It worked. The chamber door opened once more and the inflow of gas stopped. I was able to escape the gas cloud and rejoin my friends. The Vampiric Mists soon perished.

A door at the far side of the chamber was now open. We passed through and met Gaal, the prophet of the Unseeing Eye, accompanied by two similarly eyeless guards. He greeted us and I questioned him about the cult. He revealed that the Unseeing Eye was a Beholder, the most ancient and wise of that mighty race, and that he was even more powerful without his eyes. He went on to tell us that, to join the faith, our eyes would have to be removed. Those who did not survive the procedure, and the unfaithful, were thrown into the Pit of the Faithless. Not an enticing prospect. When

I claimed that I was interested in the faith but was not, at this time, interested in having my eyes removed. Gaal relented slightly and said that, although my unwillingness to commit myself fully was disappointing, the Unseeing Eye might have a use for my skills. I wasn't sure how he could tell that I, and my companions, were adventurers but guessed that he might have heard the clink of armor and weapons. Whatever the true answer, he recognized us as adventurers, and asked us to perform a dangerous task. A holy artifact, a rod of some sort, could be found on the altar of an ancient temple located far below. The Eye desired this, and the way was too perilous for any of the Eye's servants, but experienced adventurers such as ourselves should be able to accomplish the task.

Or, in other words, we were expendable, and, if we didn't survive, he had lost nothing. Retrieving the rod would win us access to the Unseeing Eye, however, and it seemed our best course. I agreed to try, he told us of the route to follow, and he gave us a key to the door we had failed to open earlier.

Behind that door we met another eyeless priest. This one, however, was a defector from the cult. His name was Sassar, and he had once been the High Priest, but had left when he discovered the evil behind the cult. He, and some others who had followed his example and deserted, were hiding out and trying, in a small way, to hamper the cult's operations. He told me more about the rod that the Unseeing Eye sought to obtain. It was one half of a mighty ancient weapon, that had been split into two by the gods because even they feared its destructive power, and the Beholder had already located and acquired one half. The other half was out of its reach but it continued to send human servants in attempts to gain it and reconstruct the rod.

The best course, Sassar suggested, was for us to retrieve the half-rod from the temple below, steal the other half from the Unseeing Eye, and then use the rod to destroy the mighty creature. I could see the benefits of that plan. Taking on a Beholder in a straight fight, when they had so much magic at their… well, not fingertips, because they didn't have fingers… was not an easy option. My magic resistance, and that of Viconia, would only protect us from two out of three spells at best. The others were even more vulnerable. I decided that we would give Sassar's plan a try.

Before we continued on, down into the lower levels where the temple lay, Sassar warned us not to tamper with the sarcophagus in the chamber where he sheltered. It was a very familiar-looking sarcophagus; closely resembling that of Kangaxx, and an exact match for the one in which we had found the golden torso after destroying its guardian. The missing limbs would be here and I was very tempted to open it. Not yet, however, that would not be fair on Sassar and his companions. First the Unseeing Eye and then, if we survived, the lich.

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We fought Shadows, Wraiths, and Shadow Fiends, descended a steep and winding staircase, and emerged into a room containing one of the biggest, and ugliest, statues I had ever seen. Giant spiders attacked us as soon as we entered and, after we had killed them, more appeared, accompanied by a Vampiric Mist, when Yoshimo opened a recess in the statue and removed some spell scrolls and gems. The gibberlings that attacked us next came almost as light relief.

Mummies and Ghasts attacked us and then we found ourselves at a broken, and seemingly impassable, bridge across a chasm. An invisible guardian asked a series of philosophically-based riddles, not terribly hard ones, and when I answered correctly the bridge magically repaired itself. We crossed… and found ourselves confronted by a Beholder and two of its smaller relatives Gauths. We retreated, hastily, and Nalia dropped a Cloudkill on them. There followed a running fight with us loosing missiles at range, Nalia using her wand to deliver more Cloudkills, and then us retreating again. Our foes went down, eventually, and we healed our wounds, waited for the Cloudkills to expire, and then resumed our advance. Only to be then faced by a pack of Shadows and their kin. Again Azuredge proved its worth and we survived.

Our way ahead was clear, after that, other than a trap across the path that our thieves declared was both lethal and hard to detect and disarm. Yoshimo was up to the task and we moved on into a most unusual settlement. A village surrounding a derelict temple. The inhabitants all seemed to be suffering from some kind of wasting disease and most of them didn't even react to our arrival.

The only one who spoke to us seemed to have a personality made up of equal parts of apathy and cynicism. He told us that he, and his people, were the guardians of a temple that no-one ever visited. There was nothing for them to guard against. Not surprising, I thought, considering what we had faced to get this far. They had guarded for long ages until they no longer remembered who they were, how long they had been there, and even what they were supposed to be guarding. They could not leave, and could not even die; they were reborn in a perpetual cycle. They had grown to hate their duty, and their god who had condemned them to this fate, and had almost forgotten even the god's name. They could not be bothered to try to stop us entering the temple.

Inside the temple we were confronted by an apparent demon. It cried out to us "Hate is here! Here is hate! Attack with anger and feed the hate!" Our first few missiles did nothing and I had an idea. I commanded my fellows to cease their attacks and tried casting a Cure spell on the creature. It disappeared, apparently killed by kindness, and a ghostly figure, seemingly a male human, appeared from behind where it had been.

"Who walks in the temple of I?" he said, his voice echoing and eerie. "Speak of yourself. You are almost beyond the sight of I."

"I could say the same of you," I said. "I am T'rissae. Are you the chief resident of this temple?"

"I am I," he said. "The temple is I, although it is not safe for even I. The beast does kill my form repeatedly. You have slain it but for a small time. It comes again and again. The beast is a fell deity, for it has more power than I can muster. My legion of followers feed the creature, and I am weakened and fading. Such power the beast has."

"If this is your temple," I told him, "then you have no legion. Your followers do not follow you."

"But they must serve," the apparition said. "It is the letter of the agreement. They were to guard, and I would provide for their lives. It was to be for all time."

I told him that they had forgotten why they had the duty and even forgotten his name. No-one ever came and they regarded their whole existence as pointless. They regarded him now with nothing but loathing. He realized that their hate was now sustaining them and keeping them locked into a dreary and pointless existence, and lamented their fate and his. He said that even the device they guarded no longer possessed the power it once had, and keeping it safe was no longer vital.

The device must be the rod I had been sent to obtain. I explained my mission, and the reason behind it, and the faded deity agreed to loan me the rod on condition that I reunited it with its other half, used it only once to destroy the Unseeing Eye, and then returned it. He would then use its destruction to enable the guardians to relinquish their duty, and his. I agreed and received the rod.

The spokesman for the guardians was astonished to find that we were leaving the temple with the rod in our possession. He did not try to stop us, however, but simply declared that our taking it must just mean that the god was weaker even than they thought. He would not believe that we would return, nor that their freedom was in sight, but did nothing to prevent our departure.

Our return journey was much simpler, as all the foes along the way were dead, and it didn't take us long to get back to the blind ex-priest Sassar. He told us that the Unseeing Eye kept the other piece in a niche in his lair, that could be reached through the Pit of the Faithless, but not by descending the stairs that led straight to the pit; that would be suicidal. Instead, we needed to take another path, that would be shown to us by another defector who had stayed with the cult to act as Sassar's agent and spy. The agent, whose name was Tad, could be found standing at a specific alcove, near the pit, and would help us if we gave him the code phrase 'The eye is blind'. If we spoke to anyone else, Sassar warned us, they might sense that we had the rod and then we would be attacked at once.

It sounded extremely risky but I thought we should be able to cut our way out if we were attacked. I agreed to go ahead with the plan. We made our way back to the cult area, passed the guards without speaking, and found the alcove Sassar had indicated. A man stood there and responded to our footsteps by saying "Yes, pilgrim?"

I hoped this really was Tad. "The eye is blind," I said. It was the man we sought and he was able to show us how to descend safely into the pit. He warned us, before he left his post, to beware of creatures who fed on the Faithless who were thrown down.

The 'creatures' were the Undead. Ghasts and Mummies faced us first, in an area of corridors and catwalks, and then we entered a side cavern. A wide variety of Undead faced us there, including one who seemed to be acting civilized, and described himself as the mayor, but soon succumbed to blood-lust and attacked like all the others. We sent summoned monsters ahead of us and dispatched the undead at a distance with missiles as they fought the summonses. Even so we took some hurts.

The rewards made it worthwhile, for as well as enchanted sling bullets and pieces of minor jewelry, we recovered an item of our own that was sorely missed; Minsc's Gauntlets of Dexterity. I was puzzled as to how they could have ended up here, in a spoil heap in the nest of Undead; Irenicus would hardly have sold them to a Ghoul or Mummy. Then, after some thought, it occurred to me that the gauntlets had been worn by someone who had been thrown down the Pit of the Faithless to be devoured. Now they were back in Minsc's hands, literally, and his accuracy with Azuredge and Heartseeker would be even more deadly.

And we would need all the accuracy we could get. After the undead area we entered the Beholder tunnels. A nightmarish place, with a texture that was reminiscent of decaying flesh, as if they had created it by transforming stone to flesh and then eating their way through. Its layout reminded me of the shape of a Beholder, with a central circle like the head surrounded by curving tunnels ending in spherical caverns like the eyes on the ends of the stalks, although I had no way of observing it from above and I could not vouch for the accuracy of my impression.

There were groups of Beholders and Gauths throughout, all attacking on sight, and they were truly formidable. Their magical rays struck us with wounds, and with paralysis, and our summoned monsters rarely lasted long enough to be of much help. Our Wand of Cloudkill saw much use, and hurt them more than anything else, but often we were forced to flee with Cloudkills covering our retreat. Only when one of us was paralyzed, which happened more than once, did we risk standing and fighting. We survived only through the magic resistance of myself and Viconia, which saved us several times, and through copious use of healing potions. We had a considerable stock, by this time, but I began to fear that we would run out and our spells, too, were growing short. Eventually, however, we gained the upper hand and the Beholders were all slain.

The central area was full of blind priests. We filled the area with Cloudkills, weakening them, and when they emerged to pursue us we were able to hold them back with summoned monsters whilst peppering them with missiles to disrupt their spell-casting. It worked, and they all succumbed, but it was a near-run thing. And then we could begin to search the area for the missing section of the rod.

We found much of value, most of it spell scrolls and enchanted ammunition, and also a thrice-enchanted halberd named Dragon's Bane. It bore additional enchantments against dragons, as its name implied, but none of us were proficient in the use of that type of polearm. Even so, its enchantments might make up for lack of skill, and it might prove its worth against the Shadow Dragon or Firkraag in the future. And, in the last niche that we searched, we found the section of rod and assembled the weapon, the Rift Device.

Assembling it must have attracted the attention of the Unseeing Eye, for soon it was upon us. I used the Device on it, bringing a pillar of flame like unto a cleric's Flame Strike but far more intense, and bringing it close to death. A blow from my sword, and missiles from my comrades, finished it off and the Unseeing Eye was dead. There was only one item on its corpse, an amulet that provided minor magic resistance, not powerful in itself but useful to increase my native magic resistance. The Rift Device had destroyed itself in discharging the flames and was now merely an inert rod of metal. We set off for the temple of the forgotten god, bruised and battered and low on spells, but feeling a glow of triumph.

There was a passage out of this lair, accessible only from the inside, that gave us a short cut to the area of the temple and the gloomy village around it. The guardians were shaken out of their apathy by our return with the destroyed device. They followed us into the temple, unwilling to believe that there might be an end to their weary vigil, and acting as if they were more intent on disproving it than on receiving the ending that they desired.

"There is nothing here," their spokesman said, once inside the temple. "There is never anything here but the stench of our hate."

"That is all you place here," I said. "Why should you get a reward for that?"

"What we placed here was earned!" he spat back. "We were abandoned to our endless duty while our lord slept! Our faith weakened, and we… and we abandoned him, except in curses. The name has not been spoken outside of a curse for generations. There has been no sign, and there has been no point."

"I have given the sign," I pointed out. "What will you do with it?"

"I will… I…" he stammered, and then his voice grew strong. "Amaunator!" he called. "Your people call to you! I, Agru Tindul, Sunlord of the Third House, pursuant to your Conduct of Worship contract, do hereby give my voice to your name! We ask… please… we call to you. Please… we have need of you."

And the ghostly avatar appeared. Amaunator. I should have guessed.

"I hear," Amaunator said. "You who have suffered, who still suffer. The time is at an end. Letter of the law states that we guard until the end of time. Our time has ended."

"Then… what is left to do?" Agru Tindul asked.

"Nothing," said Amaunator. "Your task is done. You will sit by the side of Amaunator in the Keep of the Eternal Sun. The old enemies are gone, and duty is well enough fulfilled. This is the end of things. Rest your mind in my heart. Rest…"

And, in the blink of an eye, Amaunator's avatar was gone and so were all the people. We were alone in an empty temple. On the floor lay a shield, thrice-enchanted, as our reward.

We returned to Sassar to report our success. He praised us, told us we could take whatever we wished from his people's small camp as they needed it no more, and led his followers away. There was little enough in the camp, two score of twice-enchanted crossbow bolts and a spell scroll, but it would replenish my stocks as I had used a great many bolts against the undead and the Beholders. Now, with the innocents out of the way, we could open the lich's tomb.

This time we knew what to expect, and Yoshimo laid several traps in the area equivalent to that where the previous lich had appeared. They proved effective. The lich was badly weakened and we were able to destroy it before it had the chance to cast any spells with which to fight back. I took the golden legs and arms from the tomb, well wrapped up because the evil in them made me feel ill if I touched them, and packed them away. It was too soon to revive and destroy Kangaxx himself, as we still lacked sufficiently powerful weaponry, but we would store the limbs away ready.

There were still Gaal and his most committed followers to deal with. We return to the cult headquarters and found him, and his elite guard, attempting to stop the cult from dissolving and the followers from dispersing. They fought us, but we had sent summoned bears ahead to bear the brunt of their attacks, and we slew them without harm to any save for the bears. They had some magic items, a belt and a set of bracers and a most impressive looking crossbow, but by this time we had run out of Identify spells, of charges in the Glasses of Identification, and even of scrolls. We packed those items away and continued on to loot the cult dwellings once their occupants had left.

We paid Roger the Fence to identify those items still unknown. The bracers were nothing special, and we sold them, but the belt was interesting. It could increase the resilience of its wearer, and her ability to withstand injury, to a significant degree for a period of twelve hours a day. It would be most useful to Viconia, who was the frailest of us, but she could not wear it together with the Girdle of Hill Giant Strength and we judged that to be more useful to her. Minsc, therefore, took the Belt of Fortitude. The crossbow was a heavy crossbow named the Guide, more accurate and harder-hitting than the Army Scythe, but with a lower rate of fire. I was uncertain which would be the most advantageous and, for the time being, kept both. We sold the things we did not want to Roger and used a significant part of the proceeds in restocking the potions we had expended in our desperate fights. It was time, now, to return to the Temple of Helm to report our success.

High Watcher Oisig rewarded us by presenting us with a mace, once-enchanted but with the additional property of casting Slow on the foe struck, which I regarded as an adequate reward but not overly generous. He hinted that there were other tasks we could perform for the church, directing me to one of his assistants if we wanted further details, but I had had enough of the Temple of Helm for the time being and merely bade him farewell.

On, then, to the Order of the Radiant Heart. We entered their splendid building, and sought for the prelate, but on speaking to a knight named Sir Ryan Trawl he requested that we perform a task for the Order first. A knight named Anarg had been expelled from the Order, after being implicated in smuggling slaves, and he had persuaded some of the less dedicated paladins, who chafed under the restrictions the Order imposed, to leave the Order and follow him. They had formed a band of fallen paladins and, still maintaining the guise of paladin-hood, were committing crimes and blackening the Order's name. He wanted us to infiltrate them and, if we deemed it necessary, end them. They would recognize any current members of the Order, and be put on their guard, but we were an unknown quantity. He offered Gloves of Healing as our reward for this mission.

I thought it within our capabilities, and it would gain us the favor of the Order, and I accepted the task. The Fallen Paladins operated in the Bridge District, he told us, and so we set off in that direction.

We arrived on the scene just as the Fallen Paladins were facing off against a band of smugglers, who saw the dishonored knights as rivals, and when a fight broke out we intervened on the ex-paladins side. The smugglers were no match for us, and no doubt the knights could have prevailed with reasonable ease even without our help, but they were grateful nonetheless.

I pretended that I had been rejected by the Order because of my race. They found this easy to believe and the second-in-command, a Sir Reynald de Chatillon who had left the Order because of a scandal involving a woman, welcomed us. The overall leader, Anarg, was not present. In his absence Sir Reynald set us a task to win admission to the group; the retrieval of a cup belonging to Anarg, taken from him by the Order when they dismissed him, which was of great sentimental value to him. I agreed and we traipsed off all the way back to the Order chapter-house again.

Sir Ryan Trawl told us the significance of the cup and, reluctantly, handed it over on condition that we return it once we had concluded our mission. I led our group, now somewhat footsore, back to the Bridge District and the Fallen Paladins.

This time Anarg was with those we had met before. He saw through our deception, as he still had sources within the Order who passed him information, and was aware that Sir Ryan Trawl had spoken to us and must have given us the cup. He declared that they had been betrayed and ordered his men to attack.

This was no easy fight. All the ex-paladins wore plate mail, and were armed with two-handed swords, save for Anarg who wielded an enchanted halberd. They were trained warriors, not as skillful as I had become but perhaps on a par with Minsc, and we had not prepared with any potions or summoned creatures. Nalia, Viconia, and Jaheira were all low on spells. Minsc and I bore the brunt of the fight, Minsc taking on Reynald de Chatillon whilst I dueled Anarg, but the others of their band were striking at us as well and both of us were quite severely injured before we managed to slay our opponents and turn our attention to their subordinates. When the last of the Fallen Paladins fell dead our two healers used up the last of their spells on us and still we were not fully recovered.

At least the armor and weapons we stripped from their bodies sold for a good price, and we returned to the Order better off in material terms, but the whole affair had left something of a sour taste in my mouth. There could have been a better way to deal with them, I felt, and if it hadn't been for Anarg recognizing our ruse, or had he not returned until later, I might have been able to persuade some of the group's members to abandon their criminal ways without violence.

I did not voice those concerns to Sir Ryan Trawl. I accepted his thanks, and the reward of Gloves of Healing, and said that I was glad to have been of service. But we went away without having spoken to the prelate. I would sleep on it before deciding whether or not to associate with the Order any further.

Glossary of Drow Phrases

rivvil = human