Chapter 146: Abysmal Hell
The next breath Harrian drew was sharp and painful, but the relief that it brought as his lungs filled with life-giving air was palatable. He opened his eyes to see nothing more than dirt, and it took a few seconds before he actually realised he was lying face down. His hands were slow to cooperate as he raised them to push himself up to a kneeling position, and he massaged his wrists gently. Glancing around the floor, he saw the Equaliser lying on the ground beside him, as if for all the world he had just fallen here – wherever here was – rather than the Tree of Life, instead of being transported gods-knew where.
He grabbed the sword and sheathed it neatly, his breath coming in ragged, painful gulps. Whatever had happened, it had left him infinitely stunned, and so it took a few seconds before he could summon the energy to raise his head and eyes and try to work out where he actually was.
Then he did his best to scream, but the fact that his recovering breathing was currently on an exhale meant that all he really managed was a vaguely strangled sound before falling over backwards, eyes wide with horror at the sight before him.
Harrian knew little of the planes, or of the layers of the Abyss, or the Nine Hells, but he could recognise when things weren't looking particularly good. His grip tightened on the Equaliser, and he shifted his cloak a little so it was covering him a bit better, trying to move away from some of the horrific statues, scrabbling in a crab-like style.
What had happened? Where, exactly, was he? Why had Irenicus' death dragged him here? Where was Irenicus, and the others for that matter? His eyes scanned the enormous expanse he was in, the land of stone and fire, but he could not see further than a few metres into the oppressive darkness. Thoughtfully, he unsheathed his sword.
"Harrian!"
He whirled around and shifted to half-rise, swinging the sword in an overhead blow that would have split a man in half had he been on his feet. At his current elevation, however, the attack would have been only a dismembering threat to halflings, and nimble feet dodged the blade, allowing it to lodge into the stony ground.
Imoen looked down at him, then paused as Anomen reached down to pull him to his feet. "Don't get paranoid, bro. It's just us." She blinked, glancing around at their hellish environment. "Sheesh. Hardly my idea of the best holiday spot."
A few days ago, if stuck in such a place, Harrian knew Imoen would not have been so chirpy. It was only the presence of her soul, he assumed, that allowed her to treat the situation with such typical optimism. It also chased away a few of his fears, even if Anomen looked a little sickly.
"Paranoid?" he asked, chuckling weakly and pulling away from the cleric to stand on his own two feet. "I think I have a reason to be paranoid. Just look at this place!" He peered at them cautiously. "Where are the others?" Harrian asked at last, trying to keep his voice calm and devoid of worry. It didn't work.
Anomen made a face. "We do not know. Doubtless, somewhere around here. Unfortunately. It would be pleasant to think that they were free of this hellish place." He looked around, forehead creased with worry. "Harrian, just where are we?"
"I don't know," the thief confessed, finally sheathing his sword. He thought for a moment, wanting to pace but not quite daring to in this complete darkness. "Maybe the others didn't get dragged here at all. Maybe it's me because it's my soul, and you because you're a Bhaalspawn, Imoen."
She shrugged. "Then why is Anomen here?"
Anomen smiled a wry and slightly humourless smile. "Maybe this is a hole to where all those with paternal conflicts are doomed?"
Imoen rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Come on. We should find the other three here somewhere." She started off in a random direction towards the darkness, Anomen in her wake. Harrian paused behind, staring, frowning, straining all senses. There was something about this place… something he could almost taste. Something important and familiar he knew he was missing.
"Harrian! Come on!"
Jerked out of his reverie, Harrian twitched a little before hurrying after the pair. "Coming, coming," he mumbled, realising that it wasn't as if they were going to be leaving any time soon, if his gut feeling was correct – which he rather hoped it wasn't.
Their eyes adjusted to the gloom as they proceeded, and it was quite reassuring to know that the darkness was normal, and not magical or otherworldly in some ways – maybe it was even night in this place. But as they wandered for a few minutes, there was no sign of any other forms of life in the vicinity, until…
"Squeak!"
Imoen leapt to a halt and tugged at Anomen's arm excitedly. "A squeak! A hamster! Boo!" she exclaimed in a gleeful jumble.
Anomen was looking a little less enthused. "Are you sure, my lady?" he asked in a pained voice. "There are all manners of evil things in the Nine Hells… a squeak does not even guarantee anything small, fluffy and friendly, let alone any familiar rodents."
"Well, we are not rodents, but we hope we are familiar," Jaheira's wry voice cut through the darkness, and the druid came into view a few seconds later, a Boo-grasping Reynald beside her. She looked worn and haggard, but Harrian could see that the light of battle had not yet left her eyes.
He smiled, weary but quite strengthened by the sight of her in one piece, and moved forward to pull her into a hug. She stiffened a little at first, neither of them too prone to public displays of affection, but softened after a few seconds and returned the embrace fiercely. Now was a time for comfort rather than self-consciousness.
"What about Minsc? Have you seen him?" Imoen was asking Reynald urgently when Harrian pulled back, keeping his hand on Jaheira's shoulder protectively.
Reynald glanced away, inexpertly stroking Boo with a gauntleted hand. His eyes remained on the hamster for a few long moments as the newest addition to the party struggled with his words. "He was slain," he admitted at last, frowning deeply. "By Irenicus' summoned gnolls. He was overrun by numbers, and without my sword I could not help him enough."
Solid ice shot through Harrian's stomach – a cold, familiar feeling, which he was overused to experiencing over the last eighteen months. "We… left him to fight those gnolls alone," he whispered, his voice hoarse.
He felt Jaheira grasp his hand firmly. "If we had not, too many of us would have been distracted by them… leaving Irenicus free to cause even more chaos and death amongst us," she whispered, her own mouth set in a pensive line.
"And I fear I lost my… ah, that is, the sword you gave me. It fell out of the Tree. I was forced to use my short sword, which made me quite ineffective until I took up Minsc's Warblade." Despite the grim news and the even grimmer situation, Harrian could not help but feel quite sorry and vaguely amused by Reynald's excessively bashful expression.
"The sword was… Sarevok's. I have no personal use for it." Harrian shifted, then nodded at the Warblade. "Minsc's sword is a far more powerful weapon anyway. It is best that you carry it." He looked down for a few moments.
Minsc… you may have imparted more wisdom to me than anyone since Gorion. And you fall too? How long till it is the turn of the others…
He shook his head. They seemed to be trapped in some deep layer of the Abyss, or trapped in the Hells themselves, and he was wondering when they would all meet their end? Ridiculous. At least, he reasoned, they would meet it together. And he could be wrong. They might just win.
Harrian's morbid thoughts were interrupted by Reynald letting out a pained groan, and shifting his hands as Boo began to run along his arm rapidly. "Ah! This hamster… I fear I am not particularly good with animals," the Fallen Paladin confessed, shifting and trying to pull Boo off his shoulder plate.
Anomen, nearest, moved in to help, and picked up Boo lightly. "I wonder what shall come of him with his master gone," the cleric said quietly, his brow furrowed. He raised the hamster to eye-level, evidently lost in his own thoughts – for sharing the frontline with Minsc had to have created a special camaraderie – and all was silent for a long moment until he wrinkled his nose and let loose with an impressive sneeze.
He, too, almost dropped Boo until Imoen picked the small hamster up. "I'll take care of him," she said quietly. "Boo knows how to handle the open road. Don't you, Boo." She gently stroked the gold-and-white hamster's back with her ungloved hand, her own face a mask of pain. "Though, if Minsc was right… you shall outlast us all."
Anomen raised an eyebrow and looked at his four companions. "Which may not be hard, in this dismal place."
Jaheira shook her head. "Come, no more of this," she said with certainty. In the time they had been standing there, their eyes had adjusted even more to the gloom of this level of Hell – for they all assumed that this was indeed where they were – allowing them greater visibility. It also rather suggested a bit more how they could attempt to proceed. There was no sign of Irenicus, but the nearest sheer rock face seemed to also have a huge, impressive door set in it, with five stone eyes at points around it. There was no obvious way to open the door… but the five paths leading away from the great stone arena they found themselves in could well be quite promising.
Harrian grimaced a little, folding his arms across his chest and glancing around, a little clueless. Each path ahead of them looked fairly daunting, but he was not entirely sure how to proceed. Running head-first into potential danger was not what he had in mind as his favoured way forward, now their numbers were down… he was not going to see another companion fall.
But as he glanced at those companions, he realised that all eyes were on him expectantly. Not for the first time, he cursed having claimed party leadership back in the north instead of leaving things to Jaheira and Khalid. Now he would be forced to make decisions forever.
He pasted a smile on his face, not quite realising the party could see through his forced cheer and that this made them even more nervous, then nodded at the nearest path. A long, winding trail made its way down a slope into even more darkness, a darkness that made his false smile falter a little.
"We have to start somewhere, no?" he said hopefully, gripping the hilt of his sword in a way that belied his optimistic words. "Come along, now. Irenicus has to be somewhere. He can't have just doomed us like this." The lack of conviction in his voice prompted the others to exchange uneasy glances before they fell into step behind him as he started down the pathway, but there were no complaints.
In the gloom, Harrian reached out for Jaheira's hand, and found it easily. "It's happening again," he whispered to her, too low for any of the others to overhear. "Yoshimo, then almost you, now Minsc…"
"Shh," Jaheira replied quietly. "Do not shoulder this yourself." She paused as he nodded slowly, painfully, then squeezed his hand gently. "Irenicus is the only one to blame for Minsc's death. Just see him avenged."
Harrian took a deep breath. "I shall." He paused as they reached the foot of the winding path, emerging in another, smaller arena. Shadows moved around, imprecise and incorporeal, hostile with a promise of threats but impossible to be defended against.
"What is this place?" Anomen mumbled, brow furrowed. His grip on his flail was firm.
"If it's not the Hells, then Gods know where on Faerûn somewhere worse has been created," Imoen said quietly.
Harrian wasn't listening to them. His eyes were fixed on a shadow over to his left, and he stepped away from the group slowly. Unlike the others, this one seemed to have a precise form; that of a man. And as Harrian approached and stared, it stepped out from the sea of other shadows, becoming more precise. And infinitely recognisable.
"So, brother. You have arrived. I expected as much."
Harrian stiffened, feeling Jaheira and Imoen do the same behind him. "Sarevok?"