Author's notes: Right, replies to reviews!
Death Knight's Crowbar: Rehashing the same stuff over again? Personally, I think not. Same as they were 10-20 chapters ago? Harrian's had his soul sucked from him, Imoen too (plus she's found she's a Bhaalspawn); Anomen's rejected the Order – pretty damn big – and Jaheira's turned her back on the Harpers. Yoshimo's dead. The only people who haven't changed much are Haer'Dalis, who's fine how he is, and Minsc. Yes, I know I have a weakness for writing Minsc. I'm… working on what to do with that. He doesn't quite fit. You may think I'm abandoning plot for scenes, but the story's currently at a slow bit. It'll whip up in a few chapters, with luck, and the vaunted mini-quests should take place. And keep the ideas for different stories? The different stories I have in my head, which buzz around in there and never come out because I can only write one story at a time? Why should I limit myself? What happened to Keldorn will be explained; he was hardly in fairy godfather land before. And he hardly saved the day, anyway. He prevented a fight the party would have probably won anyway.
Mija: I thought 'Heya' was so perfectly… Imoen for that moment. I love how a single word, a simple greeting can have such an affect.
Hunter: Viconia? I confess, I've always been fairly… neutral on Viconia. Not disliking her like I dislike Aerie, but ambiguous in my feelings for her. Besides, I'm not sure she'd fit in this party. And major cleric overdose!
Chapter 88: The Gifts
"I hate this place," Harrian muttered sulkily as he glared at any denizens of the Sea's Bounty that dared glance in his direction. Although most of the customers were the regular pirates and sailors, pausing in the tavern for a bit of sustenance before carrying on with their ploughing of the water, the swashbuckler would bet everything in the party's exceedingly light purses that a good proportion of them were Shadow Thieves. He took a sip of his ale, so watered down it was almost devoid of taste, and gave a pair of insidious figures lurking in the corner another glare. "Why do we have to come here?"
"Because this is the best place to find Tellis. He doesn't like coming to the Five Flagons now Yoshimo's gone," Imoen replied distantly from where she sat across the table next to Haer'Dalis. The tiefling was scanning the crowd intently, and although the trio had attempted to blend in, Harrian's perpetual scowl, Imoen's bright pink hair, and the fiendishly odd sight the bard presented made this rather hard.
"Don't see why you need me along," Harrian muttered sulkily, wrapping his long-fingered hands around the ale mug and staring into the dark, murky liquid. He rather regretted ordering this drink, with hindsight.
"My raven… would you prefer it if you were left to aiding Anomen and Minsc as Jaheira directs them in the moving of our affairs from the Five Flagons to the Delryn estate?" Haer'Dalis asked lightly, raising an eyebrow. "Ah, I think I spot yon informant!" he added suddenly, standing and striding off into the crowd.
Harrian considered this for a moment, watching the tiefling disappear, then turned forlornly to Imoen. "He has a point, you know," he muttered unhappily, staring back into the drink, almost expecting the yeast to be able to stare back at him.
Imoen reached across the table and took his hand gently, suddenly feeling that she would have to play mother hen to every member of this party, save Haer'Dalis… and he had to mother her. "Are you really sure about all this?"
"If, by all this, you mean my decision earlier… well, yes. It doesn't mean it's easy, mind. But it's for the best." Harrian pulled away a little, leaning back in his chair. "Now that I know more about myself… more about my heritage, it's shown me that… that I can't really be close to people. To anyone. Not if I don't want to bring them death."
Imoen glanced away slowly, her gaze flicking out to where Haer'Dalis's blue-haired form stood out from the crowd. "That's the curse of Bhaal blood," she whispered solemnly. "So few people can understand, or at least accept it… and those that do… we'll just end up hurting." She stared back at Harrian at last, squeezing his hand a little. "At least we have each other."
Harrian nodded, looking a little sheepish. "Ugh, sorry, Im… I didn't mean to go all morbid on you like that. It's… I mean, we'll manage." He leant forwards and lowered his voice urgently. "We will get our souls back. I promise you that."
The pink-haired mage smiled ruefully. "I know. But after that? We'll still be marked by our heritage. This heritage that doesn't seem to allow us to accept other people into our lives, unless we want to see them turn up dead."
The swashbuckler didn't meet her gaze, and the two Bhaalspawn sat in silence for a moment, deeply thinking of those they tried to push out of their lives. "We still have each other, like you said," Harrian conceded at last. His glance flickered over to where the tiefling bard of the party conversed with someone in the crowd. "And you still have Haer'Dalis to listen. I can think of nobody better suited to cope with this Bhaalspawn stuff than him."
Imoen chuckled a little. "Yes, he… he can understand more than most. He listens without complicating things. And he doesn't judge me on it; he still treats me like I'm the same. I'm not sure the others would…"
"Don't be so quick to assume that," Harrian warned. "They took it fairly easily when they found out. Well, Minsc and Jaheira already knew, but Haer'Dalis, Anomen… and Yoshimo took it fairly in their stride. I know it's a bit different, as you have a different relationship with them all, but… don't… assume. They may need to know some time."
"When? When and why might they need to know?" Imoen demanded, a little accusingly. Harrian met her gaze wordlessly, and she subsided as they stared at each other for a long moment. "I'll… in my own time, please, Harry. Let's sort out what we're doing before I let loose the hells, okay?"
Her brother smiled slightly at her, raising an eyebrow as he took a sip of his ale. "It's been a long time since you called me Harry, Im," he observed lightly, chuckling. "And sorry. I don't mean to pressure you… but if you're going to lose sleep over this, it's quite unnecessary."
"At the end of the day, does it matter?" Imoen commented, a little morbidly. "We still can't allow these people into our lives. And don't say that I can, but you can't, or equal rubbish, or I'll just be utterly convinced you're running away from the problem."
Harrian frowned. "You think I'm running away from the problem with Jaheira?" he asked suspiciously, and she could instantly see his expression close up, giving her the impression of doors slammed shut before her.
"You know there are times I can read you and times you're blank to me. This is one of the second times, Harry. I'm reserving judgement." Imoen gave him a wry and light smile which undermined the slightly sparring nature of the conversation. "And you can be a horrible hypocrite at times. But hush, Haer'Dalis is back."
The two fell silent as the tiefling strode back to the table, the familiar shape of the mousy-looking man named Tellis lurking behind him. The bard took one seat, the nervous informant another, and the four sat in silence for a long moment.
Harrian cocked an eyebrow. "Which of our many questions or issues are you here to help us with, friend?" he asked easily, in a sudden and slightly disconcerting switch from how confrontational he'd just been with Imoen.
Tellis cracked his knuckles in a way that made the swashbuckler wince. "Well, it depends on what questions you ask me first, heh heh." He grinned toothily. "As for what yon bard asked of me about the mages… I may have some success. There's one individual I'd like to check out for you, but I'm not sure he'd be willing to go for such a task. You'll have to wait there."
Haer'Dalis frowned a little, leaning forwards. "Why not simply tell us the name, and then permit us to ask this wizard ourselves? I am sure we can present our own case for employment much better than you would be able to, my robin. No offence intended."
Harrian shook his head. "He can't do that," the swashbuckler answered for the informant. "The mage would never talk to him again if he knew he'd given his – or her – name out to some random person. Not in Athkatla."
Tellis nodded quickly. "Aye, you've got the gist of it. Heh heh." The toothy smile returned, this time with a slightly leery edge directed at a dubious Imoen. "But have no fear; I am working on your behalf. Now that you're staying at the Delryn estate, you people are a little more credible to those I'd try to win over, too."
Imoen frowned. "How did you know we're staying at the Delryn estate? We only started the move this morning," she asked suspiciously, her uncharacteristically piercing gaze making the informant wilt a little.
"It's my job to know these things, I'm afraid," Tellis told her without apology. "I have to keep my ear to the ground, or I'm out of business. And you people are some of my clients; I have to keep tabs."
"Isn't that a comforting thought," Harrian muttered darkly.
Imoen shook her head, glancing thoughtfully at the informant. "It was you, wasn't it. You were the unknown informant who happened to tell the Athkatlan authorities that Lord Cor Delryn had murdered his daughter."
Tellis smiled, for once seeming quite confident. "Nope, not me. Heh heh. I happened to tell the anonymous informant all I knew, mind. An oriental friend of mine had been quite keen to extract that information, when I told him I had it available. Around the time that cleric of your group left the knights, it was."
Harrian, Haer'Dalis and Imoen exchanged glances.
"Yoshimo," the swashbuckler sighed, shaking his head. "We really should have guessed… that man was…" Harrian leant back, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "Talk about a final gift."