Jaheira wearily trudged up the stairs to her room, her eyes nearly clouding over from exhuastion. The days events were so puzzling that her mind seemed to jump from subject to subject, as if it couldn't make up its mind about anything. She was so preoccupied in her thoughts that she nearly tripped over Aerie during her ascent up the stairs. Struggling to regain her balance, she looked darkly at the elf.
"What in the Nine Hells are you doing there child?" Jaheira demanded. "I nearly fell over you!" Aerie looked up, her features surprised and angry.
"What am I doing?" she shrieked. "What are you doing, tripping over me when I'm standing in plain sight!"
"Standing? Sitting is more the like. You could've killed me!"
"All the better, with you bossing us around and exhausting us like over used horses!"
"Foolish child! It's a wonder you have the intellect to remember those cantrips you call spells!"
"You're one to talk, old bat! You started making love to a man who you'd been charged to watch over less than a month after your sniveling cowardly husband Khalid died!"
The isntant these words left her mouth Aerie realized her mistake. Her eyes widened in horror as Jaheira's arm flew up and struck the Avariel hard across the face with a resounding crack . She tumbled down the stairs and lay at the bottom in a heap of yellow robes and disheveled sandy hair.
Barely able to breathe, Aerie fearfully looked up. Jaheira stood before her, hands tightened into fists, teeth clenched, is wide with rage, and body shaking with an uncontrolled fury.
"I warned you long ago not to mention that name again. I swear, by the blood of Mielliki, if you say that again I shall kill you!" the frenzied half-elf said.
"What's all this about?" Jasper's voice said from behind them. Jaheira's hand flew to her scimitar.
"Stay out of this! It is none of your concern," she snarled, the scimitar level with the elf's head.
"I believe it is my concern, being that a poor, bruised and beautiful creature is in a crumpled heap, and more so that a large sword is at my countenance!" Jasper said defensively. Jaheira blew out a curse in elven, forcing Jasper back in shock.
"My dear! You musn't dirty the elven language so!" he said. Jaheira huffed angrily. "I shall do what do what I like, and speak what I want!" she said. Jasper took a step forward.
"Well, as long as that's settled, would you mind lowering your…uh…weapon?" he asked. Jaheira stood unmoving for a second, and complied. Jasper knelt next to Aerie and lifted her head with his gloved hands. She was breathing in short gasps, her eyes wide. Jasper muttered something unintelligible under his breath and stared hard at the Avariel's face. Jasper stood up and looked at Jaheira.
"You nearly broke her neck with that blow," he said, his voice even-tempered, though his eyes said otherwise. Jaheira looked at him uncaringly.
"Be glad I didn't do otherwise," she said insultingly. Jasper looked at her with eyes that could have rivaled a basilisk.
"I'm not exactly the person you'd want to anger," he said, "The only reason I'm holding back from coming to your room by night and wrapping a chord around your throat is Kakrin and his thrice bedamned..." Jasper suddenly stopped, realizing his error. Jaheira, however, was not one to let such a thing go.
"Kakrin? Is this some unknown Diety?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She leaned in closer. "I think not," she said in a barely audible voice. She then pushed her face past his.
"There's more to you than you let on, Jasper. I know your secret." She stood back and folded her arms, one eyebrow raised. Jasper met her gaze straight on, and lowered a hand to Aerie.
"Come Aerie," he said, his eyes never wavering, "we'll get you cleaned up." Helping the Avariel up, he escorted her up the stairs.
"It is time that you should retire as well," Anomen said from behind her. Jaheira opened her mouth to retort, but Anomen interrupted.
"I was not meaning to be insulting, Jaheira. You are angry and upset. Rest a while, the journey is near an end," he said. Jaheira sighed heavily, nodded and walked off to her own room.
***
Kakrin led Quilik through an endless series of halls and corridors, never speaking, his expression emotionless. The walk, which in fact lasted many hours, seemed to go on for days. Quilik readied his mind, preparing himself for the task at hand. Could he defeat Kakrin? He'd defeated Sarevok, but he'd had help, and his Bhaal powers. He'd vanquished Irenicus without his powers. That time, however, he'd become the Avatar of Bhaal. He'd been the Slayer...
Kakrin stopped abruptly and waved his hand. The wall in front of him slid open, revealing a portal of shimmering energy. He stepped through, motioning Quilik to follow. Quilik waited a moment, shrugged, and leapt through.
He stood in a vast stone room, surrounded by elaborate pillars that were more for decoration than for supporting the weight of the room. Kakrin stood at the other end, looking calm and uninterested. He lifted his hand once, examined the back of it, the made a sweeping motion with it.
The instant he did this, the pillars around him began to grow in height and length, making the room slowly bigger. The ground quaked. Bricks began to fall. The rumbling stopped, and the dust settled. Kakrin outstretched his hand in a quick motion and a wall of flame leapt up behind Quilik, blocking any means of escape. The fight was on.
Quilik charged forward, twirling his hammers in a windmill motion. Kakrin spread his feet wide and drew a katana from a hidden sheath in one fluid motion. Quilik leapt into the air, flipping as he narrowly avoided the magically enhanced blade. The instant he felt his feet under him, he spun around and swung once.
Kakrin parried the attack easily and stabbed forward, his blade aiming for Quilik's chest. Quilik brought the twin warhammers up in a cross position, catching the blade in mid-thrust. Kakrin kicked Quilik in the stomach, freeing his blade. He slashed at Quilik's head once, twice. Both times, the katana narrowly missed as the half-elf threw his head one way, then the other. He stumbled off balance, and felt pain as a metal boot kicked him in the groin.
As he fell forward, Quilik rolled down and kicked up with both feet, smashing them into Kakrin's face. He jumped up, lifted his leg in and kicked out in one motion. He then brought his boot up and smashed Kakrin repeatedly on both sides of the face. He then lowered his leg down, pushed it forward and brought it up abruptly, catching Kakrin in between the legs. Quilik then did a backwards handspring and threw the human high overhead. He spun around to see Kakrin crash unceremoniously to the floor and his katana clatter to the ground nearby.
Kakrin leapt to his feet. His eyes blazed with hellish light and his cloak rippled up behind him as his hands crackled with electrical energy. Thrusting them forward, two longs bolts of lightning flared out and shot towards the half-elf. Kakrin began to hurl firebolts as Quilik jumped nimbly to one side. The barrage of flaming missiles kept up and Quilik tripped over the fallen katana. His spells exhausted, Kakrin charged at the temporarily downed cleric.
What happened next surprised both combatants.
As Quilik raised his hammers in a feeble attempt to block, they tore themselves from his grasp and merged into one large, silver warhammer. It floated in between his hands began to glow with a white light. Kakrin leapt into the air, mere inches away from the half-elf, when the light flared out everywhere and time seemed to stop. For Kakrin at least.
Quilik, though confused, was not one to let such a blessing pass by. Kakrin soon felt the pain as the warhammer smashed down on his skull. As his consciousness began to fade away, he felt content that Quilik would do the predictable thing. The thing that would ultimately be his downfall.
Yes, Bhaalspawn, you beat me. But I let you win…his last thought echoed.
If he'd stayed conscious mere seconds longer, he would have realized that two small eyes had been watching from the darkness of the room. Indeed, the person to leave the room after Quilik was not Kakrin, but Lynn.