Chapter 70: The Long Goodbye

"Prelate! This is not necessary!" Keldorn gasped, shock clear on his face. "Squire Anomen shall be a fine knight; this we both know, and Harrian Corias is no servant of evil! What you are proposing is madness."

The defiance and anger was dead in Anomen's eyes, and his face seemed drained of all life, his eyes hollow and empty. "I…"

Wessalen ignored Firecam and turned to Delryn. "You do not have time to decide, Anomen. It is now, or the Order shall recognise you as an ally of the Bhaalspawn and thus not one of us. There shall be no violent reciprocations for now… but the moment the path turns to darkness, you shall be an enemy."

"His path will not turn to darkness," Anomen murmured, but there was no emotion and precious little forceful conviction in his voice. He had the look of a desperate man, a man who knows he is right yet is being forced to step away from his choice.

Harrian, by now, had gained some semblance of coherency, and placed a hand on Delryn's shoulder. "Go, Anomen. You know it is the right choice." The cleric turned to look at him with absolute shock. "This party, this quest, was never anything more than a way for you to prove your worth from the Order."

"But... Irenicus… Jaheira… the quest…!" Anomen seemed completely lost, full of shock and disbelief, evidently still reeling from Wessalen's ultimatum.

Harrian shook his head. "We can do these without you. Not easily, but without you." Delryn still seemed unconvinced, and the thief sighed – then regretted it as his temple ached profoundly. "Look, Anomen… the Order is your life. Stay with it, you'll pass your test – and with this ultimatum of theirs, you will pass your test – and have a home, a quest for the rest of your life." He shrugged. "The Order gives you a future. We can't offer you that."

Anomen remained silent, staring at the sign of the Crooked Crane Inn far in the distance. His eyes were glazed over, and under his breath he was murmuring something – a prayer, or maybe just trying to convince himself to take one path.

"Your choice, Anomen Delryn?" Trawl's voice shot through the silence.

Delryn gave him a brief, vicious look which he curbed quickly. "I…" His voice trailed off, and he turned to the Prelate. "May I at least say my farewells to the party?" There was a trace of defiance, if defeated defiance, in his tone. Wessalen merely gave him a stern nod.

Anomen turned to his five  companions, anguish on his face. Harrian, first in line, met his gaze evenly, and gave him a level nod. The two men shook hands sternly, both with conflicting emotions on their faces.

Delryn grimaced. "Ensure that your task does not go incomplete. Irenicus cannot continue with his actions. Rescue Jaheira…" The cleric paused, before leaning forward, his expression firm. "And don't let her go."

Harrian nodded, a bittersweet smile on his face. "I won't. Good luck, Anomen. May Helm and Tymora guide your footsteps." They nodded to each other firmly again, before briskly sharing one of those manly hugs which require a lot of slapping of the other's back – no mean feat when one is wearing plate mail.

Minsc seemed sorrowful when Delryn approached him. "Boo will miss you," was all the big man could manage to say, raising the tiny hamster to the cleric's eye level. Boo squeaked pitifully.

Anomen frowned sadly, pulling his leather glove off and lightly stroking the damp fur along the hamster's back. "Farewell, Minsc and Boo. I only pray that you bring evil the end it deserves," he murmured solemnly.

Yoshimo was looking at Anomen with a mildly contemplative expression as the cleric looked at him. "Young Anomen, a samurai of the west in the conundrum of duty and honour against loyalty and goodness." The thief shook his head sadly. "I only trust you have made the right decision."

Delryn grimaced. "Do not question me, thief," he mumbled, but there was no trace of venom in his voice and the words seemed more pleading than anything else. "Try not to rob too many purses."

"Try not to smite too much." They shook hands, both of them clearly wanting to say something but macho codes of honour not permitting it.

Anomen stepped away from Yoshimo and looked, quickly, at Imoen. They stared at each other for a long moment, neither of them managing to come up with anything to say. Eventually, Imoen just stepped forward and hugged him tightly, and although he hardly felt the contact with his armour on, he still felt a jolt run through him.

Then, eventually, he pulled back. "I am sorry, my lady," he said at last, frowning, not quite meeting her gaze. "This is not… not what I would wish. It is my decision, yes, but… you have to understand that the Order…"

Imoen raised a hand to stop his babbling. "Hey, I understand," she replied, a little too cheerfully. "You gotta do what you gotta do. Go. Run around Amn getting outraged at everything." They shared a smile at the private joke, then Anomen turned away – for if he stared at her a moment longer, he was unsure he could ever avert his gaze.

Haer'Dalis rocked on his heels briefly, giving Delryn a bright, expectant look. There was something of a smile on his face. "Anomen?"

The cleric nodded sternly. "Tiefling." Then he stepped back over towards Prelate Wessalen and Sir Ryan Trawl. "If we are to leave, let it be now. I would get away from this infernal mess," Anomen spat, not looking back at his former comrades.

Keldorn stepped up and patted him on the shoulder. "Have hope, lad. The future is still bright." He threw the party, which now looked rather lost and abandoned, an apologetic look as Imoen passed Edumar's reigns back to the inquisitor.

Wessalen, Anomen and Keldorn slowly started down the road leading to Athkatla's main street, leaving only Sir Ryan lingering behind, looking quite imposing in his heavy armour, his large sword strapped neatly to his back. "You watch thyself, Bhaalspawn," the paladin intoned gravely. "Corruption of my squires is not something I take lightly. Anomen can be saved… but if you wish to remain in one piece, do not concern yourself with the Order."

Harrian glared at him bitterly. "If I wanted your opinion, Trawl, I'd have asked for it. As it stands, I'm now down a friend and ally – I'm not too concerned with the advice of a sword-swinging fanatic such as yourself!"

Ryan shrugged as best as was possible in full plate, his armour making an odd squeaking noise. "The warning stays. Watch thyself," he finished grimly, before turning and striding imposingly down the street.

The five adventurers stared at each other gloomily, the rain still beating down upon them, though they were too wet and miserable to care. There was a long, depressing silence, until Harrian said: "Let's go home. We'll visit the hold tomorrow."

* *

"Well, if it isn't my favourite patrons!" Samuel Thunderburp exclaimed overly cheerfully as the five entered the Five Flagons half an hour later, dripping mud and rainwater. "But, ooh… you're not in a good state. What's happened to the other two?"

Harrian glared at the halfling, in the foulest mood anyone had ever seen him in. "I'll explain later," he snapped, shaking his head as he approached the counter. The patrons of the bar gave the party suspicious and derisive glances. "In the meantime, are our rooms available?"

Thunderburp nodded, frowning a little. "Aye, they are… all ready and waiting for you, yes sir!" Again, the halfling was too happy for the party. "If you want, I can have food sent up to your rooms, free of charge?"

Harrian glanced at the others. "Do what you want," he grunted. "I'm going to bed." He turned and strode towards the stairs, revelling in the comfortable familiarity of the corridors of the Five Flagons.

            His key caught in the lock of his door as he reached it, but after a little fiddling it swung open, revealing his room to be just as he had left it, if a little emptier than before. Harrian smiled for the first time in twenty-four hours, tossing his pack to the floor next to the bed, then leant over the table opposite to light the candle.

            A creak sounded from behind him, and the thief frowned. He raised his head to look at the mirror on the wall next to the table, but the room was clear. The newly lit candle threw erratic shadows across the room as it flickered, especially in the corner, where there was a long, broad darkness which didn't seem to have any source…

            He whipped around, though too late as the vampire sprang forwards to deliver him the second blow to the head that evening, sending him sprawling down into darkness…