Chapter 122: Just to Add to the Confusion
"We're very grateful you've agreed to help us with this, Sir Keldorn," Anomen declared sincerely as his group descended to the cellar of the Delryn estate – once used to keep Lord Cor's extensive wine collection, then as a workshop for Edwin, and now as the party's fairly grand armoury. Weapons they didn't sell went here, and as the party had already accumulated an impressive wealth, they were loath to sell anything that might come in handy later. The Tuigan bow was at hand in case Imoen needed a replacement for the Gesen bow; the Skullcrusher mace in case Anomen needed an alternative to the Flail of Ages; Harrian kept Peridan down there as it was unnecessary to cart two swords around, and Sarevok's old Sword of Chaos was also sitting imposingly on a weapons rack, amongst other various prizes of the party's exploits.
"It's not a problem, lad," Keldorn replied reassuringly, patting the cleric on the back as they reached the foot of the stairs. "I see you have converted this area impressively. I did not notice there was this extensive a weapons collection down in the cellar when I was watching over the estate."
"We kept it locked away," Imoen explained, putting her bow to one side on the rack to her left. "I managed to set up a few wards, and Harrian and I worked on some traps to reduce any would-be thief to dust. Nobody steals our goodies," she declared with a wicked smile.
Anomen chuckled, nodding. "Well, Keldorn, let us find you some suitable armour and a blade. Anarg may be willing to accept a thief, a berserker and a cleric who abandoned the Order, but I doubt he'll be as happy to accommodate a retired paladin," he added, moving forwards towards the armour they had collected.
Imoen nodded, following him and giving Keldorn an evaluating look. "Yep. A helmet should stop you from being instantly recognisable, but that armour's pretty distinctive. We may have to find you something new," she mused.
Anomen glanced over from where he was skimming through the armour on the racks. "The Doomplate, perhaps," he suggested quietly, thoughtfully. "It served me well for a long time. If not, there is some more simple enchanted plate we can find. Or go shopping," he said, resting a hand on the crimson-tinted metal of the Doomplate.
Keldorn nodded. "That would be… most acceptable. I am reluctant to part with my plate, but if it helps us, then it must be done," he agreed. "And of my weapon? The Hallowed Redeemer is very distinctive," he pointed out, stepping towards the rack of two-handed swords the party had accumulated.
"Ah, maybe the Sword of Chaos? Minsc used it for a bit, and it was very useful. Hey, where is Minsc?" Imoen asked, glancing around at the stairs, realising the big ranger hadn't followed them down there.
"He went to attend to Boo's bath," Anomen explained dryly. "Yes, the Sword of Chaos would be quite apt. It is a good blade," he commented, nodding as his eye ran over the rack for other possibilities.
There was a long silence as none of them spoke, broken by Keldorn's sudden inhaling as the aged paladin stepped forwards, his hilt grasping the blade by the side of the Sword of Chaos and lifting it easily from the rack. "This… do you know what this is?" he inquired, shocked, as he held the sword.
The other two exchanged glances, nodding. "Carsomyr. A Holy Avenger we took from the hoard of the dragon Firkraag. Shame none of us can use it," Imoen lamented, shaking her head. "A Holy Avenger might be a bit distinctive to Anarg, mind."
Keldorn fixed them both with fairly weak glares. "You… you kept this? You can't even use it! A blade like this… it should be used to fight evil, not kept on a rack for mere aesthetic purposes!" he blustered, evidently reeling a little from the sight of the sword.
"True, however the alternative was to hand it over to the Order. I wanted to, but Harrian was not particularly inclined to 'do them a favour' by giving it to them," Anomen explained ruefully. "It is a fine blade. Minsc could have done some great damage with it."
"Minsc is not a paladin," Keldorn muttered needlessly, moving Carsomyr through a few tentative sweeps.
"I'm sure Harrian would be happy to give the blade to you once this is done. As a gift. You could then give it to the Order if you pleased, or keep it for your own use," Anomen said with a hint of uncertainty and hopefulness.
Keldorn gave him a sideways glance. "Lad, a blade like this makes me want to come out of retirement. Do not tempt me," he said at last, setting the blade down. "The Sword of Chaos will do very well, and the Doomplate… though it is a bit pink." He glared at Imoen as she opened her mouth, doubtless to make some comment about the Firecam plate. "I should return home, however. I am quite sure Maria is expecting me back."
The three of them headed up the stairs back into the ground floor of the Delryn estate, Keldorn saying his farewells fairly quickly and letting himself out the house, with the agreement to meet them the next morning after breakfast to depart to the Bridge District to find the Fallen Paladins.
Imoen tossed her bow onto one of the chairs in the foyer again, visibly quite tired as she sagged onto one of the more comfortable seats. "At least that's done. The day's left me really sleepy," she yawned, stretching a little and glancing around. "Guess it's just us and Minsc here tonight, if Harrian and the others are going to stay at the Sea's Bounty like they said," she commented.
"Indeed," Anomen agreed, moving to sit down. "He did mention that they would stop by Cromwell's forge in the morning, however; see if any more of what we have collected could be of use. I think he means to forge the Equaliser. He was very determined to get the pommel gem back from Barterman."
"Ah, yes. He wants his toy to play with," Imoen chuckled. "I suppose a relaxing night is on the cards now, anyway. If the others were here, we'd have Harrian and Jaheira making sure we all know they're happy again, Aerie probably panicking about unpacking, Haer'Dalis feeling he has to entertain us all…"
"And falling flat on his face," Anomen murmured dryly, then looked a little defensive as Imoen threw him a look. "Excuse me, my lady, but that tiefling tries far too hard to ingratiate himself with certain members of the party. I do indeed wonder what you see in him," he challenged, feeling suddenly bold.
"He… he makes me laugh," Imoen said firmly, nodding, but there was a note in her voice which suggested she was trying very hard to be convincing. "With Haer'Dalis, not everything has to be doom and gloom in the party. He makes me laugh. It's not easy to laugh in the party any more."
"This party was shaped by serious work, and the cavorting of that bard, merely…" Anomen's voice trailed off as he realised this was an argument which wouldn't work. He sighed deeply. "I do not trust him, my lady. He is iniquitous and… and… and… slimy," the cleric declared, shaking his head.
Imoen didn't reply for a long moment, staring at the floor. "Why did you agree to this quest for the Order?" she asked at last, avoiding his accusations, his challenges. "I mean, I'm happy to help, but why did you agree? What do you expect to get from helping them?"
Anomen shrugged. "It is not about what I will get – we are here to defeat evil, my lady, and the Order shares this purpose. We need not be enemies, and as they will ally with us to defeat Bodhi, we can easily help them with the problem of Anarg…" His voice trailed off again as she gave him a stern look.
Her glare softened under his sheepish expression, and she sighed. "They may let you back in, Anomen. You have the right to hope. You'd deserve it; you're a better man than most of those stuffed shirts." Imoen paused, chewing on her lower lip. "It's about time something good happened to you."
"My life is not devoid of good things. I have friends, I have my faith, I have a purpose, a quest," Anomen replied unconvincingly. There was another, shorter silence as he looked at her. "Yet… I would wish to come back. For all the purpose in the world, I still feel… empty. This is not my quest – I would follow Harrian to the ends of Faerûn to retrieve his soul, but the task is not my own. I merely aid another on his duty." He paused, a wry smile crossing his face. "You think I would not become a stuffed shirt like them if I returned to the Order?"
She chuckled slightly, shaking her head and smiling the smile at him. "No. You're too much fun for that," Imoen replied, patting him on the arm. "You'd probably turn them around. Let them unwind. You've unwound a lot in all the time I've known you."
"These two months have seemed longer, have they not?" Anomen sighed, nodding. "I would wish to come back," he repeated. "I think there is much I could do within the Order, once our duty here is over. But I am not sure it is possible, even if they allow me to. I am not the wide-eyed squire of yesteryear. My knighthood was hollow before – I assumed that it was because I had abandoned you all to attain it. But it feels a little more as if it is because my priorities in life had changed. With the party, I was doing good directly. With the Order, there is the… bureaucracy. I once thought that necessary, but over the last few months, I have become more of a free spirit." His expression turned wry. "For which I must blame you, Harrian and… and Yoshimo."
The subject of the bounty hunter was one the party had not spoken of much. Anomen knew that Yoshimo was the one who had given the magistrates the evidence condemning his father, but it had not been discussed. Since his death at Anomen's hand, the party had hardly spoken Yoshimo's name – this had not been the time or place to deal with the scars the Kozakuran had left behind.
Imoen shrugged. "You don't need to, or have to make that decision now. And you shouldn't do what you feel you ought when, if, the situation pops up. Just live your life as you want to, do what you wish, live it happily," she explained firmly, her soul-lifting smile tugging at her lips again.
Anomen returned his own, slightly forced grin. "Isn't that a life which is far too chaotic? I do not want bureaucracy, but I have lived a life of strict order… perhaps too strict, yet regimentation has its place in society…" His voice trailed off again, the topic of conversation clearly fairly drained with there evidently nothing more to discuss until the issue of the Order truly arose.
"You did not answer my question," he said at last, looking down, feeling a boldness rising within him, inspired by her smile and the words she'd spoken. "About Haer'Dalis. And what you see in him. He makes you laugh, but is, as I said, truly iniquitous."
There was a pause as Imoen shifted, wilting a little as Anomen raised his head to look her in the face, those blue-green eyes of his more penetrating than their usual softness allowed. "I… I don't know why you have to ask," she stammered.
"Because I see how he acts, and I see what he does. I see that he is a man who will only use you. A man who does not have the morals to be what you need – perhaps he makes you laugh today, when you need to laugh, but is that all you will ever need?" Anomen challenged.
"How do you know who he is?" Imoen demanded accusingly, suddenly on the strong, almost too strong, defensive as she stood up. "You don't know him! He doesn't even talk to you half the time; you don't know what he's really like!" Her expression wavered for a moment between uncertainty and a forced determination as he stood up, looking down on her, taller than her by over a full head, then her face closed up with conviction. "And how do you know what I need? How do you know that what I need now isn't what I'll need tomorrow?"
"I didn't say that. I asked you whether or not it would be," Anomen replied, his voice fairly calm, but there was tension creeping in, an irritation and frustration which had been pent-up for a long time. "Perhaps I do not know him, truly, Imoen, but I doubt you do either. He is an actor, and has pulled the wool over your eyes. I do not know who could possibly be aware of his true nature, yet I sincerely doubt anyone in this party is." He paused, his expression hardening. "Is he what you might need tomorrow?"
She looked surprised for a moment, as if she hadn't expected the question, and gaped a little. "He's… I don't need to think about that right now. Because it's not tomorrow today," she insisted, a little too snappishly. It was all too evident they were both hitting the right nerves with each other. "Anyway, what is it to you?"
"Because I care, Imoen," Anomen replied, rolling his eyes with exasperation. "It is not my wish to see that dishonest tiefling use you for whatever purposes he desires and then cast you aside easily, whether you believe it or not!"
"Now you're starting to sound like Harrian," Imoen muttered with a vague amount of bitterness. "I am capable of looking after my own life! I do have my own life without everyone thinking they have to meddle in it all the time! Why do you care, anyway?" she challenged, distinctly more forcefully.
"Why, exactly, do you think?" Anomen demanded, looking her in the eye, the words spilling out and saying more than he had intended, but once they were there, he made no attempt to take them back.
Imoen stared at him for a long moment, her jaw hanging slightly open as a long silence settled upon them. "Anomen, what…?"
"Imoen, you are not stupid, and I am not subtle," he replied firmly taking a step forward as he continued to stare her in the eye. "And I can see what that bard does, and I can see that he can honestly not be trusted!" There was another, equally taut pause. "He may make you laugh today, but what will he do when the laughing stops?" Anomen challenged grimly.
"I don't need to think about that!" Imoen replied, a little thoughtlessly. "I only need to think about the here and now, because if I don't, things will just… implode… because if I don't focus on the here and now, the here and now will collapse," she continued, her voice trailing off as her argument became weaker, and she looked down.
Anomen frowned slightly, concerned. "Why?" he whispered firmly, lifting a finger to her chin to raise her head to look him in the eye again.
Because I'm a Bhaalspawn. Because my soul has been stolen. Because I feel completely empty inside. Because laughing can fill the emptiness. Because if the emptiness isn't filled, it will just consume me from within, and there'll be nothing left but a shell, or a shell of a shell. Because it started to happen to Harrian, even if he's getting out of it, and he's stronger than me; I wouldn't last that long.
Imoen swallowed hard, her expression crumpling completely into one of uncertainty. "Because I…" She stopped again, unable to continue, but knowing she had to.
Anomen took a step forwards again, bringing them even closer together, so close she could feel the warmth from his body and hear the deepening of his breath as he lifted her chin slightly again so it was level with his face as he looked down at her. "Why?" Anomen whispered again, then lowered his head and kissed her deeply, longingly.
This chased away emptiness like laughter did, and with even less desire for it to stop as her hands slid over his shoulders, responding with a fierceness and longing that mirrored his own. His hold was gentle as he wrapped his arms around her, and all memory of what she'd intended to tell, to explain, flew from her mind at the touch of his lips.
Eventually, regretfully, Anomen pulled back, looking as surprised and shocked as she felt as he looked down at her, still holding her closely to him. "I… do not know why I did that," he whispered, taking a deep breath as his grip loosened a little. "I… forgive me…"
"Don't… be sorry," Imoen mumbled, a little confused as she tried to get her breath back. "That was… it was… nice…"
There was a long silence as they stared at each other, words evidently not enough to explain anything – was there anything that could explain it all? – but before they could do their best to elaborate through actions again, a thumping on the staircase could be heard, and Minsc stepped in a mere second after they leapt apart.
"Ah! There you are!" the big ranger declared happily, evidently oblivious to the embarrassed glances the pair gave him. "Boo is all fluffy, Minsc is all clean, but we are both hungry, and were hoping that the party's greatest cooks could provide dinner for hungry warriors before we all depart to pick up these fallen paladins tomorrow…"