Chapter 3: Benevolence

The horse had moved faster than any other he had ever had the opportunity to ride on. The Ranger who had tended the stables had named the horse Ellis, a legendary Hero who could run faster than the wind itself. Gorian had never believed in such fanciful tales but he needed to meet with the others before dawn and if this horse could get him there before the sun rose, then Gorian was going to take that chance.

It had been early in the night when he had set off riding from Baldur's Gate. The many letters he had received from Elminster, the hundreds of unheeded warnings from his friends had become the fruit of his hardships. The prophecy was coming true every word of it. He couldn't rely on his own strength anymore. He had to rely on the strength of his fellows and the wisdom of his old friends.

Elminster had written just moments after Alianna had left. The letter on which he had penned about the sect in the South had been a preliminary to the letter that was to follow. Elminster had the guidance of an Oracle at his fingertips and as he wrote, the Oracle could tell him who was likely to be present when the letter arrived in Gorian's hand.

The second had said that Alianna was indeed involved in such a thing. Of course, Gorian already knew this but he did not know as to what extent Alianna was to play the puppet to the puppet master. She was a pawn in a well-crafted game of chess, built for the Gods who played such a game on their thrones in the high and mighty sky above.

Gorian spurred Ellis faster into the night, across the valleys and through the misty waters. Even as the morning fog crept up over the highway ahead, he could see nothing but what was three feet in front of him constantly, the stars holding nothing but darkness in their wake over the rolling hills. All was quiet on the roads that evening, all quiet and still, waiting for the cries of the child of Bhaal to reawaken long forgotten promises to the dark Lord.

The canter of the horse became a beat, it became a rhythm as the path before him opened up in a sea of mist and dirt. The mud from the road kicked up into his eyes, blinding him momentarily in a wave of black and brown. There hadn't been a single blade of grass to be seen for the past fourteen miles.

It was when Ellis finally needed rest when Gorian stopped. He climbed down off the white horse's mighty saddle and rested himself upon the dirt floor, his cloak seated in the mud, weighing it down heavily. He opened up the canteen on his belt and poured some into the open metal helmet, lifted it high for the horse to drink. No grass meant little food for the horse and that meant that more breaks would be needed when they reached the Grasslands to the South.

He hadn't gone about this properly, he knew he hadn't. He was armed with meagre spells from the studies that he had been lacking in. He had nothing but the dagger attached to his clothline belt and the few wizard incantation that he kept in his memory. He was defenceless against a mighty foe until he reached the others; another days ride from there.

One thing was for sure however, that Alianna and the troop that had foreseen her dismissal from the Gate were not far ahead. They would be travelling slowly so as not to harm to growing child and it would be a dire thing to disrupt the birthing process. If she were to give birth on the road, then all hope would be lost. That was what Gorian was hoping for. If he couldn't make it in time to stop the ritual from taking place then he prayed that the ritual would be put out by the birth of the son on the road, instead of one the pedestal of death awaiting the child in the dingy under caverns and the desecrated temple.

Taking a last drink from the canteen, he mounted Ellis again and rode forward into the rising moon's wake and back onto the trail of his lover.

Jaheira and Khalid hadn't had much luck finding a means of transport to the South. They had so far only managed to secure a wagon to the Badlands and maybe a cart from there forth until they reached the Ogre Mountains. From there, it would be another three days walk.

It was hopeless.

"We are never going to get anywhere at this rate!" Jaheira said, flailing her arms, "You'd think that the balance of the world would help us in such situations."

"Is J-Jaheira doubting her faith?" Khalid asked, chuckling a little at his own jab at the sturdy druid.

Jaheira adjusted herself and looked down her nose at the young Elf. She didn't think herself superior to him in any way but he was making a jab at her beliefs and that was a matter of consequence.

"Nothing shall tear down the battlements of my beliefs," she said sternly, placing her hands defiantly on her slender hips and looking around the stable area for any men who would wish their horses upon travellers.

Khalid shrugged, "When you s-speak of the balance like t-that, you sound displeased."

"I am displeased with the way in which I am treated after many years of loyal service to these lands," Jaheira replied. "I simply wish a means of transport from one place to another but despite the awkwardness of having to walk yet again, it seems we have no other option."

"As is always the n-need," Khalid laughed. "Come, if we are to set off, we must be going now."

Jaheira sighed. "I agree, maybe we can pick up a few horses on the way."

A vivid dream of being shaken woke her up. She found herself still on the pathway on the horse when he eyes opened but she couldn't place the person who was shaking her awake. There was no one, in fact, who was physically shaking her. But in her mind, the vision of the man, a handsome young man with pointed ears like herself was grasping her shoulders and calling out her name.

She felt connected with the young man somehow, like he was involved in some way with her. Her heart ached when she saw his gentle features, fashioned as though they were carved into a marble statue and so smooth with a glint of golden tinge. His eyes were a deep, flowing hazel that reminded her of the bark of a spring tree growing in the Elfwoods.

Alianna dared not to mention the dream to any of the priests that travelled along side her. There was no point in her musings with the others, they would only scoff at her, put her visions down to the simple meandering thoughts of a heavily pregnant woman. She found it tremendously disappointing how the women were still frowned upon and made the under class of the men. Even now, she was important to these priests but once her child was born, she would be nothing yet again. Just another rung on the mighty ladder to success at Bhaal's right hand side.

Still, if the vision were of some God or something else, it made no difference. She was to be glorified in a few days time, glorified beyond all measure of man or woman. She was to be more than anything any other priest could wish to become and she would relish in it all. The fame, the fortune, the wonders to behold at the throne of Bhaal, sitting on his lap and playing Goddess to the mighty Lord of Murder.

Cyrinol wouldn't be able to stand in her way. Once the power was in her hands, everything else would become secondary. She would be like the sun and the moon, bringing darkness and lights to the lives that surrounded her. She would be loved by all yet feared by all.

And it scared her far deeper than she could imagine.

Beneath the hooves of the great animal, Gorian felt the Earth shuddering at the sounds of a distant rumble from the Mountains. The rumble was a sign. A sign saying that the Temple was now open for Alianna's return into the arms of Bhaal. Bhaal was ready to reawaken in a new body with new blood to flow through her veins.

The mist and fog had cleared leaving the highway bare before his eyes. He could see the wide and vast planes that lay open before him and in the very distance, he could see the Bell Tower of the Corunc, a city famed for the great Bell Tower which rang the praises of Illmater across the sands and grasslands. It was in there, in the stony walls of the Inn, the Slug and Lettuce, was where he would find Elminster with the others and they would set out together to defeat the temple and it's followers.

The thought that he may have to slay his lover had crossed his mind but he had banished it to the far corners of his memory as soon as his inner voice had uttered the fateful words. He was wishing it upon himself tot even think of it. Slaying his love down in cold blood, watching the life seep out of her and over the musty ground…there was nothing in that but pain and glory for the Good of to world. The good of the world wasn't worth the death of Alianna, evil or not.

The hooves of the horse beat down upon the dirt, making its significant tracks. The bells from the watchtower rang out loudly to Gorian's ears, ringing at the sound of the black, ringing at the evil feeling that was spreading further from the south lands and toward the north. There was nothing to do but ride now, nothing to do but find he source of the evil and eradicate it from the lands.

He had to find Alianna.

Even as the dark light settled itself in the wake of the moonlight, which seemed to pass almost instantly. Jaheira had secured transport, although it had cost her an arm and a leg at the nearest stables further on than the Gate itself. They had stopped by at a nearby farm on the outskirts only to find that the farmer was extremely reluctant to release his horses to the service of an Elf.

Eventually, however, the man had allowed the horses to be taken as long as Jaheira gave up her golden armlet. She gave it over but something else went along with it. Jaheira had saved the armlet from her childhood, only being young now; she had kept the armlet even when the castle, her old home, had fallen.

But, now was a time of need, so sacrifices had to be made for the good of the people. It was only a material possession and she could procure more if it came to it. She could always get more.

Jaheira rode ahead, trying to keep and eye into the distance for any strange happenings. They crossed many rivers and found themselves tied down by the footholds of many caverns, cliffs and rocks jutting from the underground worlds of the Drow and the Under Elves. They crossed the dirt plains and followed mysterious tracks that were lay before them on the mud paths.

It was at this time that Jaheira wished she was travelling with a Ranger, tracking Gorian's horse would be easier than the blind way they were going at it now, following any mark that they saw in the dirt paths.

"Jaheira!" Khalid called from behind, spurring his horse further to reach up with his blazing partner. "Are you sure that this is the way?"

A cloud of thick dirt, a sandstorm of dust clouded their eyes and swept along the dark path. Jaheira looked behind and nodded to her friend.

"Gorian would not have travelled through the underground," Jaheira replied, easing off the reigns only slightly to allow Khalid to catch up with her horse. "And the only other way is through the dunes."

"There is no t-trail to follow through this route," Khalid said, closing his eyes as the wind swept around them. "We're r-riding blind."

Jaheira shook her head, "Blind, but not deaf, Khalid."

They listened to the wind for a moment and Khalid smiled as he heard the sounds echoing from the distance. A distance ringing of tower bells, the Bells in the Watchtower. They were nearing the town where Gorian would be meeting with the others. Soon they would be there and hopefully, by the Gods, they hadn't left yet.

"Will we make it?" Khalid asked, watching Jaheira's movements through the cloud of dust.

"If the Gods permit it," Jaheira said and spurred her horse on faster towards the evening sun in the distance and towards the sound of the bells ringing out a chime of calling.

The crashing of the Bells could be heard as Gorian tied the horse's reigns to the poles outside the tavern. Inside his friends were waiting; inside they were waiting for him to go inside and right all the wrongs that his lover was causing.

Gorian hesitated for a moment as he pulled his saddlebag down onto the grass. Was he doing the right thing? He asked himself a series of unanswerable questions. He didn't know what was going to greet them; he just knew that the path he was taking would lead him to Alianna. From there, all was blurry. What would he do once he found her? Would everything be all right again?

No, it wouldn't. Elminster had said that in his letters, there was something evil about her. The evil that had grown over the time she had spent with him, the evil that was now growing into something more sinister. She was trying to release Bhaal from his death, from the forever prison he had remained in until now. She was doing the wrong thing for the wrong reasons. She had no reason to be working for the old, dead God.

"I wouldn't worry so much," Khelben's voice said from the doors of the tavern. His black cloak flushed in the evening wind and Gorian stood before him, saddlebag slung over his white robed shoulder.

He went to enter but Khelben touched a hand to his friend's shoulder.

"Gorian," he said, holding him still, "You are young still. You have much to learn about life. Alianna…"

Gorian pushed the hand from his shoulder and put a foot of distance between them, "Alianna is no longer an issue here, is she? We are not here to rescue her…or to stop her…only to destroy the essence of Bhaal that remains in the children."

"You know much of this," Khelben replied. "But you could say that you don't know enough yet. Go, inside. Elminster is waiting."

The doors of the tavern pushed open. The smoke that had been smoked and the heavy vale of drunken ale passed through Gorian's mind. He could see all the empty mugs, the drunkards who sat in the corners drinking out of empty beer mugs. In one far corner was Elminster, dressed in his red cloak and pointed hat, smoking on his long pipe and blowing out all manner of smoke shapes.

Gorian moved forward to his old friend and before he could sit, Elminster stood and took his hand in his own, shaking it as old friends do. With a smile on his already ageing face, he bade Gorian to sit down next to him and with a flick of his wrist; the bartender had brought over a fresh mug of ale that steamed in the cold winter night on the table before him. For a moment, Gorian forgot how important the quest was and remembered how good the ale must taste and how thirsty he had become.

"It is good to see you again, Gorian," Elminster said, "I had thought that my warnings had gone unheard and unheeded."

Gorian shook his head; "I would be a fool not to hear the words."

"Then you know what must be done?" Elminster asked, taking off his hat and setting it down on the seat next to him.

Gorian nodded, "Yes, I know."

Elminster's mature face took on a new shape, one of pity but gentle understanding from an ageing man. He placed a gentle hand on Gorian's shoulder as he spoke in a hushed voice, looking every so often at Khelben, who was still standing guard like at the door to the tavern, waiting for any who would walk across his domain.

"I know how hard this must be for you, friend," Elminster said, his beard shaking a little as he spoke. "There are several times that I've had to ask myself if it was the right decision to send you the warnings. I'm getting older Gorian, older and I'd like to say that I'm getting wiser but I have yet to see proof of such an accusation."

Gorian chuckled, "Old age will never catch up with you, Elminster. You'll be young for a long while."

"Young in body, old in mind," he replied, chuckling a little himself, "There's little on the Sword Coast that I haven't seen but…"

He paused slightly and puffed on his long pipe.

"There are some things," he whispered, "That I wish I hadn't experienced. I have taken many a life in the name of the greater good, many who did not deserve such an end but were dealt it. I am asking you to preserve a power that is greater than anything you could imagine. And by doing so, I fear I am making an enemy out of you."

Gorian sighed, "You are asking me to destroy Alianna."

"I am asking you to rid the world of an old evil before it consumes it," Elminster replied, "I would not have asked if it wasn't important, you know that."

"There are many who would take down the temple," Gorian said, almost angrily, "Many who would bravely battle against Bhaal."

"And all would perish against overwhelming odds!" Elminster spat, casting his eyes to the tabletop when he spoke.

Elminster never shouted. He prided himself on keeping his head clear in times of great need and danger; he would always have a smile upon his face and breath normally when monsters turned their evil eyes toward him. But, no, he was only human no matter what anyone said. To air is human; Elminster was only following what he knew.

"Only two things are certain in this life, Gorian," Elminster breathed in a slightly ragged form, taking a deep puff on his pipe and speaking from the mouthpiece. "We will live and we will die. You have lived; some would say you've had a good life from what you came from.

"Death is another adventure all together, old friend. I cannot promise that in the coming battles you won't loose your life but I do promise you this, whatever happens, there will always be a light to guide you."

The two sat in silence for a moment as Gorian prepared himself for what could be his final hours on the mortal planes. He was beginning to think that somehow, in one way or another, Alianna's love had sent him to his own doom at the hands of her own friends. Maybe they were her friends, maybe she had never really cared about him at all; just another tool in a string going back further than Gorian could imagine.

Elminster blew a long string of smoke from his mouth; the smoke looked like a silk ribbon as it floated over to Gorian and wrapped itself around his hands before disappearing into the thick air. Gorian looked up in Elminster's light face, watching a smile play on his lips but dark circles around his forever young eyes.

"The final battle awaits us," Elminster said, taking hold of his hat and putting it on his head. He stood and held his hand out for Gorian's. "The world doesn't wait for our footsteps."

With not much land between her and the temple staircase, Alianna stole her breath and lifted up her tunic to her ankles. Carefully, she stepped up the steps, feeling the shudder that each step brought with it, the stone steps of a desecrated temple. Now the home of Bhaal; soon to be his home from the pits in the darkness.

A slow patter started, falling briskly on the stone steps, plopping from the ground then heavier. Alianna looked into the sky and saw the clear blue that palled above, the dark clouds that didn't overhang and the rain that pattered down onto the staircase like star-studded showers.

A small smile appeared on her face, a wicked smile that tempted the fates to rain upon her that day. The sly grin that spread across her beautiful face was menacing and looked to the sky without a hint of jealously for those in the warm sun. She stood underneath the blue sky; her arms wide open receiving the blessing from the Gods above. She opened her mouth to catch the raindrops that poured down, tasting the water.

A pain ripped through her, engorging her from within. She felt the pain lashing out upon her stomach, upon her abdomen and fell to the stone steps, crying out into the pale blue sky that tormented her with the blissfully cooling rain. She cried again as the hot and searing stab leapt through her and implanted itself on her belly. She arched her back against the stone as she felt something tear and then flow, out onto the steps below. Liquid, flowing with a certainty and mixing with the rain water.

The priests who had brought her to the temple raced to her side, picking her up by the under of her arms and carrying her up the rest of the steps and inside the arm and dry temple. They set her down on the cold floor while one of them rushed to tell the High Priests about the arrival. Alianna cried out again, ripping her hand through the air and grasping at the nearest object, and forcing the young priests to his knees before her, wrenching the seams of his cloak.

"Get me out of here!" she hissed, throwing him with a ferociousness that was unbecoming to her.

The young priest toppled over as she threw him and he looked up to one of his friends whom stood above Alianna's head, supporting her as she ached.

Within the moments of confusion, a shout emanated across the hall from the Great Hall, booming in a terrifying voice that echoed through the walls, shaking the very stones themselves. The priests fell back but moved forward again when Cyrinol marched up.

"Take her up to the pedestal, you fools!" Cyrinol yelled, grabbing one of the young priests by his lapels and wrenching him to the ground before him. "You! Tell me what happened!"

The young priest stammered, "She was…coming to the temple…sire…and…"

"Enough!" Cyrinol said, waving his hand in dismissal to the young priest who got to his feet and tore out of the hall.

The other priests took it upon themselves to raise Alianna up on their shoulders and carry her through to the Great Hall, which was substituting for the Ritual Room. They lay her down on the stone tablet in front of the Bhaal idol. A large pedestal lay beside her; golden in its surface and a large iron framing formed the rest. It was the sacrificing pedestal, on which her baby would be slain as soon as he was born.

Alianna's eyes flew to the back of her head and she felt like she was going to be sick, she bolted up into a sitting position and made the move to vomit all over the young priest who was with them before.

However, Cyrinol rushed to her side and lay her back down again. With a comforting voice, unlike Cyrinol's usual hiss, he whispered kind words to her as she lay looking up at the ceiling. She noticed that on the ceiling, there was a depiction of a great battle, Helm at one side and Torm at another. Their swords were clashing in a ring of fire and furry, both at their knees to each other's prowess.

"Be still, Alianna," Cyrinol whispered, "The priests are bringing towels and water. There is time…do not worry."

"I…am not…worried," Alianna spat, holding her belly as another pain seared across her abdomen. "I merely…I want rid of this child!"

Cyrinol nodded, "All in good time, my priestess, all in good time."

Another pain cut across and she reached out for a hand in the darkness as her eyes flew shut. She grabbed hold of Cyrinol's hand, which he grasped back just as hard, letting her clench the life out of it, as she contracted. Her hand grew warm as she clenched his hand again, and Cyrinol formed his hand into a fist around hers, grasping and holding, mustering all the pain that he could so that she didn't have to bear anymore than she had to.

"Please, priestess," he said as she clenched again, "Push out the baby, push him out."

"I…I am trying!" Alianna screeched, hurling their clenched fists backward onto the stone slab, hitting Cyrinol's knuckles hard off the stone.

He bit his lip as his knuckles crunched and he jerked his hand back, caressing and nurturing them with his other. He whispered a healing spell into his hands and felt the knuckles coming back together, the bone re-growing as the light flowed over his hands like water.

Soon, the child would be born; it was only a matter of time. Soon, he would be the High Priest to Bhaal's hell and furry, they would rule the planes together. He would be Lord of some planes and others would be given to Alianna, his wife, his mistress who would rule alongside him, bearing his children.

He reached out for her clenched fist again and let the pain scorch through him as it ripped through her body. He watched from Alianna's side as the priests and clerics moved in to take care of the birthing process, armed with tongs, towels, water and other instruments. One was carrying herbs in a small bag, dispensing them on the stone tablet and smashing them up with a pestle.

Very soon now.

It was only as Cyrinol heard the soft cry of a newborn baby and heard the sighs of the clerics that he knew it was time. He looked over the top of the cloths and discovered the child in the arms of the head cleric, being cuddled and nurtured as if it were to serve a life of purpose. Cyrinol grinned however, a sly grin that lit up his whole handsome face, disguising his true intentions towards the child.

Alianna took the child up in her arms, forgetting about the pain but just holding the infant, cleaning him with one of the towels and brushing back his dark hair. Cyrinol noticed that the infant had small ears than a true Elf but they were slightly pointed, like those of a halfling. The baby opened his eyes to reveal the green eyes, those green piercing eyes of his mother's…the eyes that looked like a sunset upon an Elven grove…

Cyrinol shook himself out of his dilutions however, and moved away from the proud new mother, making his way to the golden pedestal, bringing out the knife and other tools, preparing for the inevitable.