Chapter 13: The Cowled Ones
The next morning was brighter for all. The party had spent three days floundering pointlessly, drifting even further away from their goal in an attempt to gather themselves, but the events of the previous night seemed to have helped. Journeying to another plane, fighting not inconsiderable foes and, above all, being forced to work as a team had given them a sense of purpose, and a sense of being a group… not a mere assembly of individuals.
Harrian had expected no miracles for Jaheira's mood, but had hoped that she would draw some strength from the previous evening; be happier and more at ease with herself and the situation because of it. Fortunately, his hopes had been well-founded – the pain in her eyes was still ever-present, but everything else… the stern mask, the overly-controlled tone of her voice… were all gone, and what was left was the druid he had come to know and value.
Haer'Dalis, despite having been thrown into a completely unknown situation with completely unknown people and been expected to settle in easily, appeared to be in his element. He seemed to delight in tormenting Anomen in particular, although all but the squire could see the mostly good-natured point to his gibes.
The standard of his fighting had been seen whilst the party was fending off the demons coming through the plane portals, and later during the rescue. His style was fast – flashy, but efficient and extremely dangerous, and he didn't skimp on the magic missiles when it became necessary.
Hopefully, that wasn't something that would become necessary today. With any luck, they wouldn't need his fighting style to combat foes, his magic to defeat them, or his wit to raise their spirits (or not). For they were in the Government District, and looking to talk to the Cowled Wizards about Imoen.
Harrian would confess that his expectations were exceedingly low. He wasn't anticipating the wizards to be particularly forthcoming, and was perfectly happy to implement a few… persuasive tactics, if the situation called for it.
Though the old adage crossed his mind as they approached the park… 'Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger…'
To the hells with them. He was here for Imoen, or, at the very least, he'd settle from some answers and a pointer in the right direction. He didn't care what these mages had to throw at him; it would take more magic than was on Toril to shift him in his actions.
He looked up at the building of the Council of Six. It was tall, imposing, and perfectly fitting for a mysterious governmental body. The thief part of his mind evaluated its strengths and weaknesses; points of easy penetration and points of high security to be avoided if at all possible. Corias hoped he wouldn't need them.
"Harrian, are you sure that this is a good idea?" Yoshimo asked cautiously. "You have already made a foe of the Shadow Thieves. It would not bode well if you angered the Cowled Wizards as well. There are only so many major factions you can take on at once," he added wryly, a deep frown on his face.
"Much as it pains me, I must agree," Anomen said quietly, ignoring the mockingly surprised and offended expression Yoshimo threw him. "If you offend them, they will find some rule you have infringed and then we will all find ourselves off to join your Imoen."
The swashbuckler looked slowly and thoughtfully at the building for a long moment, pursing his lips. "Good," he decided at last, before striding forwards and pushing the massive door to the building open.
Minsc leant a little towards Haer'Dalis. "Boo needs to know… do you think we will be needing to lend our butt-kicking skills to Harrian today, or is this a time for… subtlety?" he asked, as conspiratorially as he had ever spoken.
The bard paused contemplatively, frowning. "I am not entirely sure, my hound and hamster," he declared at last. "It seems as if our raven is planning to merely execute the fine art of subtle conversation. Well, that is clearly his intention; whether or not it is to be carried out… we shall see. I suggest that we be prepared to lend our skills at any moment, for this is a perilous place we go to."
Harrian strode through the doors, taking in the sights quickly. A few government officials… a few guards… a few nobles looking authoritative… and a group of mages lurking around the centre of the room suspiciously. Perfect.
He felt a hand grasp his shoulder firmly, even as he started forwards, and glanced curiously at Jaheira. "Do not do anything foolish," the druid reminded him sternly, aware of the potential consequences of a stupid move, before letting him proceed.
Tolgerias was quite pleased with himself today. He had managed to find an addled group of adventurers to seek out Corthala and bring him to him. Although the small party of overly-enthusiastic 'warriors' had capabilities that placed a serious cloud of doubt over him, they were willing, and a single ranger would probably not present much a problem for them. If they found him.
He sighed. Oh well… it wasn't as if the clock was ticking. That sphere showed no signs of moving, and he doubted Corthala was going to disappear forever. He would show up. Men like him always did.
He had thus expected it to be a slow day… not many people would approach him for questions. Few people, if they had an issue or query about the Cowled Wizards, would actually carry it through.
Which was why Tolgerias was highly surprised as a rather motley band of people approached him, most looking quite tentative, their leader with a highly determined and focused air about him. The wizard peered curiously at them. This sort of thing, and this sort of people didn't come to him often.
"I have a few questions for you," Harrian said quietly, not bothering with an introduction or establishing just who the Cowled Wizard was. "And I'd be most indebted to you if you could answer them fully and without any… sneakiness."
Tolgerias smiled falsely. "I shall do my best," he replied, with a decidedly oily air about him. "Please, proceed so I can do my best to enlighten you." The patronising air was one he employed for all such people, although… his curiosity was piqued with this group. They were not of one clear-cut category of the populace.
"A friend of mine was abducted by the Cowled Wizards three days ago," Harrian said, his voice as emotionless as possible. "I would like to know where she has been taken, what will be done with her, and how or when she is going to be returned. And without any… evasive answers, please."
Tolgerias's false smile faded instantly. He didn't take kindly to the 'please', clearly added as a fake courtesy from the tone of his fellow's voice. "I believe you are talking about the incident on Waukeen's Promenade, with the mage Irenicus and the girl Imoen, correct?" he asked cautiously.
"I am," Harrian responded smoothly, his expression as plain as the tone of his voice. It was quite a hard task to appear threatening whilst not being openly hostile, and he was trying to get the sentiment across in a glare.
The wizard shook his head. "They broke the law. I presume it is the girl you are attempting to retrieve, yes?" The thief nodded levelly. Tolgerias's expression darkened. "She will be kept in Spellhold indefinitely. It is a place for the magically deviant, and until we can positively ascertain that she will not be a danger to anyone, she shall be kept there." At the other man's questioning look, he smiled toothily. "Some inmates spend the rest of their lives there. Good day," he finished, not unpleasantly, before sweeping off haughtily.
Harrian tried to glare after him, but the sinking feeling in his stomach made it impossible for him to conjure up any anger. All he felt was a sense of loss and despair, and a feeling of inevitability. He would get Imoen back. He had sworn that he would, and he didn't break the promises he made to himself – they were the ones that mattered the most.
Unfortunately, it looked as if he would have to go against all of his principles, set aside his inhibitions, and go to the Shadow Thieves. It pained him to do so, but considerably less than it would pain him to lose Imoen.
His despaired thoughts faded, and he stopped only to realise that, in his pseudo-anger and dejection, he had stormed out of the building. His five friends and allies were trailing uncertainly behind him, not looking as if they wanted to intrude.
"What action shall we be taking, then?" Jaheira asked quietly, her unwavering gaze fixed on his in a way that, in any other circumstances, would calm him down, comfort him and bring him back into the real world.
But not now. Not faced with what he was. "I don't know, damn it!" he snapped at her, then forced himself to calm down as a handful of the nobles scattered around the park glared at him, and, consequently, the guards gave him a shifty and suspicious glance.
Yoshimo shook his head. "If we are to rescue Imoen and find Irenicus, it looks to me as if the most obvious course of action will be to return to the Shadow Thieves and accept their offer… for there seem to be no alternatives that present themselves."
Anomen glowered at him, then fixed Harrian with an honest gaze. "I have agreed to join with you on your quest," he said quietly, though there was a burning indignity within him which was plain for all to see. "But if you are to join forces with the Shadow Thieves… that is a course of action which I cannot – and, indeed, will not – support. I am a squire of the Order, and, as such, not willing to lend my services to a group as iniquitous as the Shadow Thieves."
Harrian glared evilly at him. "I don't like this any more than you do, Anomen," he hissed. "But if joining forces with the Shadow Thieves establishes itself as what will be needed to be done to rescue Imoen, then that is the course of action I will take. As such, you can either stand with me, or find some other adventurers to fulfil a noble quest with."
A flash of anger crossed Delryn's face, but the cleric controlled it with surprising discipline. "If this is truly to be a path of righteousness that you walk, then the Gods will see to it that you do not need to affiliate yourself with a group as immoral as the Shadow Thieves. Until that time comes, I shall be standing with you and praying that the Vigilant One sees fit to grant you another course to follow on your quest."
Haer'Dalis shook his head firmly. "My raven, often it is required during a perilous quest to choose between the lesser of two evils. Even if you are to ally yourself with the devils of this plane in order to rescue your Imoen, I should consider that a far lesser sacrifice than losing her altogether."
Jaheira looked at him for a moment before reluctantly nodded. "You swore that you would never work with the Shadow Thieves after what happened at Baldur's Gate," she intoned gravely. "And so it seems as if you will have to make a choice between abandoning your principles or abandoning your sister."
The swashbuckler turned his glare on her for the first time in months. "You know, I wish for once that you could not put everything in morbid terms," he barked, then sagged with fatigue and frustration. "I can't make this decision," he sighed at last. "There… there has to be another way."
"There is, Mr Corias."
A man, dressed in similar robes to those Tolgerias wore, had sidled up to the group without anyone noticing, engrossed in their argument as they had been. He was human, apparently only in his mid-forties, with long brown hair that was starting to grey at the temples and a short, neat beard. It was clear he was from the Cowled Wizards.
Harrian stared blankly at him for a moment. "What do you want?" he asked, although his surprise took out the menacing tone he had intended to inject into his voice.
"To help you," the man said levelly. "My name is Jeran Mavek, and I know all about your problem, Mr Corias. How you are attempting to rescue this girl, Imoen, who is currently imprisoned at Spellhold with the mage Irenicus you seek. And I saw the small debacle back in there. Tolgerias really isn't that forthcoming with the confidential information you seek, understandably. He's already quite out of favour with the heads of the Cowled Wizards after the debacle concerning the sphere in the slums."
Seeing Harrian's still slightly dumbstruck look, Jaheira stared firmly at Mavek. "Just who exactly are you, and why do you want to help us?" She hesitated a moment before continuing. "And how?"
"I'm with the Cowled Wizards, and Tolgerias is my direct superior." Mavek shrugged, then lowered his voice, becoming more conspiratorial. He didn't have the same haughty attitude as the aforementioned Tolgerias, but clearly had learnt his evasive skills of the other wizard. "Spellhold is where the Cowled Wizards keep the 'magically deviant' like your friend Imoen. I can bring her to you. I can get her released, by applying pressure in the correct places."
"How… and why?" Corias asked at last, the numbness of his brain fading a little as he peered at the Cowled Wizard.
Mavek glanced around hurriedly. "Here is not the place to talk," he told them at last. "If you will meet me outside Delosar's Inn in the Bridge District at midnight tonight, I will answer all of your questions then." He paused, cast a discreet glance at Yoshimo which only the bounty hunter caught, before turning and disappearing from sight, some magical illusion cast which blocked him from their sight.
Harrian stared at the space the wizard had been standing before turning firmly to face the rest of the party. "And the Vigilant One did see fit to grant us another course to follow on our quest," he declared quietly at last.