Disclaimer: I do not own 'Baldur's Gate', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein.
Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.
– Blackcross & Taylor
For Minxie
Rescue
It was an hour or two after dawn when Minsc first picked up the trail of gnolls heading westwards and another hour after that when the forest finally seemed to thin away to reveal a rocky coastal outcrop. Fritha looked up, her eyes taking in the huge sandstone fortress, so similar in colour and style to the surrounding landscape that it looked as though it had been hewed there by the brackish winds.
Instantly everyone fell silent and Fritha, the memories of the previous night still strong within her, felt her heart quicken.
The ranger led them forward, across a rotting wooden bridge and a short way up the rough path to where a primitive arch of sticks and bones stood as proof of what fate awaited unwelcome guests. Fritha paused a moment to consider the yellowing skulls, unable to keep from wondering whether perhaps one of them was Minsc's ward; that maybe in a few days some hapless traveller would wonder something similar about the five fresh skulls that adorned it.
She shook herself, bringing her mind back to the present and following the rest of them up the narrow stony slope that skirted the fortress walls in instinctive silence.
It was quiet and as they rose she watched the sea slowly become visible above the trees. The morning was bright blustery once out the forest and the ocean was highlighted here and there with crests of white foam, mirroring the sky where clouds scudded by in a field of clear blue. She glanced up, with half a mind to check the time, and it was then she noticed the dark shapes looming over the walls above her.
'Gnolls!' she screamed, alerting both enemies and friends as the beast began their attack and Khalid scooped her under his shield just in time as a barrage of rocks struck about them.
Minsc roared, a frightening wildness to him he charged the rest of the way to the fortress, Khalid taking just enough time to set her on her feet before pounding after him, Jaheira at their heels pulling a dazed Imoen with her. Fritha ran after them dodging the falling stones and overtaking the two women in her haste. She rounded the corner to find Minsc and Khalid already at the top of a set of crumbling stone stairs, holding back the snarling gnolls that had formed their line just inside the protection of the high walls that flanked the entrance to the courtyard. Khalid in front, his huge shield held low, was working to protect their bodies from gnolls' halberds while Minsc towered above him swinging his great sword at anything within range.
'Don't just stand there gawping!' she heard Jaheira scream behind her, 'get up there and help!'
She glanced to Imoen and saw the same feeling of confusion reflected in her face.
'Get on the walls!' Jaheira snapped, giving Imoen a shove forward before dropping to her knees and beginning to meditate. Realisation dawned and without a thought to either Imoen or the druid, she flew up the first couple of steps, ducking under Minsc's sword and scrambling up to stand atop the wall next to him, the battle just a chaos of heads below.
She looked across to the opposite wall. Imoen was already there, firing arrows into the horde of gnolls below them, nimbly dodging their attacks. Fritha joined her; dancing along her side of the crumbling stonework, avoiding angry halberd thrusts and attacking the gnolls beneath her where she could, while overhead, the sky darkened as the wind picked up. Suddenly, a crack sounded over the din and lightening streaked into the horde below her. She whirled around to see Jaheira still knelt at the foot of the steps, her hair a swirling cloud about her face as she called silently to the storm.
Another strike of lighting and a canine yelp pulled her attention back to the battle. The gnolls looked panicked now, and began to scatter; barking filling the air as they pushed and fought each other in their frenzied escape. A gnoll tripped, hitting the wall at her feet, dislodging bricks in a cloud of plaster. She leapt back, leaning forward as she fought to keep her balance when a clawed hand appeared from nowhere, grabbed a handful of hair and suddenly she was falling.
Everything seemed to slow. Somewhere, far away, she could hear Imoen screaming. The sour taste of ozone, the crackle of static in her hair and then she landed, her breath knocked from her as she hit the uneven cobbles. Instantly, the world sped up and she was scrambling to stand as hairy paws stampeded around her. Something grabbed the back of her tunic and a scream rose in her throat as she was hosted from the ground. She thrashed wildly at her attacker, her eyes squeezed shut, dreading to look and face her end…
'Calm, young Fritha, you are scaring Boo.'
Slowly she opened her eyes to find her head level with the ranger's, his face split in a warm smile. He set her down gently, her knees almost buckling as he brushed dust from her shoulders. She turned to see Khalid and Jaheira just inside the walls finishing off the last couple of gnolls that hadn't the sense to escape and Imoen was already on the ground and running over to them.
'Gods, Fritha! A-Are you okay?'
Fritha nodded; now it seemed she was not about to die any time soon, embarrassment at what had just occurred was eager to replace her fear, and she was just hoping the subject would be dropped. Luckily for her, Jaheira was around.
'She's fine,' the druid announced without a glance, 'it's Dynaheir we are here for. We should check the courtyard pits first and move on from there.'
Fritha nodded, her heart still hammering inside her chest; her previous feelings of fear and embarrassment swirling unpleasantly in her stomach making her slightly sick. The fortress seemed eerily quiet after the previous clamour and she moved slowly to the final pit, watching every corner for some sign of attack. Finally there, she glanced warily about her before at last turning her back and venturing a look over the side. She drew back almost immediately; the stench of rotting flesh overwhelming, but a moment's glance had been enough.
'Here! She's down here!' she shouted, holding her cloak over her mouth and flying down the steps.
At the bottom, the woman came to meet her and it was a testament to how long she'd suffered there, in that she on longer seemed affected by the smell. She picked her way across the bodies that strewed the floor, arms outstretched in greeting, her dark skin no doubt hiding a multitude of bruises. 'I-I heard battle, I thank thee for saving me, young one,' she smiled and Fritha was struck by how regally she still carried herself even after such an ordeal. Fritha explained their situation as they climbed the steps together, the girl helping where she could, and soon both were stood under the midday sun, surrounded by friends, the great ranger almost weeping with joy at having his ward safely returned.
'T'was courageous to follow the likes of Minsc in to battle, if a touch foolish.' She said with a sidelong glance to her zealous protector, 'mayhaps I could travel with thee awhile and an opportunity may arise for repayment of mine debt.'
The swarthy woman smiled generously, her beauty easily shining past the dirt and bruises. Fritha smiled too. The joy of being alive and finding her the same in such a hopeless place filling her.
'We'd be glad of it.'
xxx
Fritha sat, a cup of ale warming on the table in front of her as she watched the rain pelt the grimy windows of the inn. With half a day spent recovering after the gnoll fortress, they had been hard pressed to return to Nashkel within two days. That day had been one long trek to get back to the village before nightfall, but looking out on the weather, she was very glad they had pushed themselves. A strange coldness swept over her and she turned from the window her eyes coming immediately to rest on the girl sat to her right. Imoen's was half turned away from her and her hair loose, falling slightly across her face but this was not enough to hide the look of undisguised glee which contorted her features as she watched the two women across from her. Fritha sighed, shaking her head with a rueful smile.
She couldn't believe they were at it again. Jaheira and Dynaheir had done nothing but goad and snipe at each other since they met two days ago. Jaheira had just carried on as usual, assuming her role of 'Head Matriarch and General Know-It-All' to use the official title Imoen had assigned her. But it had soon become apparent that Dynaheir had other ideas on how things should be done, namely with a lot less bossing her about, and from then on it had been one barely restrained argument after another. It was like watching two of Phlydia's cats fight over a spot in the sun.
At first it had just been petty things; challenging each other over which route back to Nashkel would be best, where to camp for the night and so on. Imoen had found the whole thing hilarious and Fritha had to admit, to start with, so had she. However, tonight the stakes had been raised.
It had all started off innocently enough, Khalid and Dynaheir chatting politely about Calimport, a place, it turned out, that she had visited in her youth. Jaheira, though, had been very brusque with everyone since and you didn't need to be psychic to work out that she didn't like all the attention Dynaheir was showing to her husband. Of course, this had only made the whole thing more appealing to the mage and she had continued without arrest, her behaviour growing slowly more flirtatious, as Jaheira grew steadily more annoyed.
Fritha shook her head again.
Though her reaction was a little extreme, Fritha could understand where the druid was coming from. Dynaheir was a very attractive woman and although Jaheira was by no means ugly, she lacked the easy sensuality of the Wychlaran. Everything about Jaheira seemed a little sharp, as though she had many different emotions churning about inside her but only one way of expressing them all.
'Like now…' thought Fritha grimly as she turned her attention back to the other end of the table where the three 'adults' were sharing a friendly drink.
'I find thy honesty…interesting, honourable men are rare.' Dynaheir purred, gazing across the table at her quarry with half-lidded eyes.
'Ah…er…well, thank you,' Khalid stuttered, his cheeks flushing at the complement and his eyes darting nervously to the rigid woman at his arm.
Jaheira narrowed her eyes and Fritha could see her jaw tighten.
'You must have known many to speak with such experience. '
Dynaheir's eyes widened slightly at that, but she recovered quickly.
'I'm not sure I understand thy meaning?' the mage said smoothly with a smile at Jaheira before returning her gaze to the man opposite, serving only to rile the druid further.
Fritha watched the tension rise another notch and decided that the situation, however entertaining, was best diffused before it became any more than sharp words. She glanced over at Imoen who was still entranced, watching the women trade barbed comments with boundless enthusiasm.
Fritha grinned.
Now this would require perfect timing.
Imoen had just taken another swig of beer when she felt the tickle of breath at her ear and a familiar voice whisper,
'Ten silver on Jaheira'
It was gloriously disgusting to watch.
Imoen, her cheeks and eyes bulging for a split second before she burst out laughing, spraying the contents of her mouth at the three of them. Already angry, both women instantly forgot their argument in favour of screaming abuse at the still giggling Imoen.
Fritha lent back with a satisfied smile.
xxx
Khalid sat down on the bed with a tired sigh. It had been a long day and it seemed, as yet, there was still no end in sight. He eased off his boots, trying desperately to ignore his wife, who was stomping around the room ranting, punctuating every sentence by slamming something as she changed for bed.
'I cannot believe that woman! Harpy!'
Thwack
'And Imoen! Filthy wretch!'
Slam
'And as for her little cohort, Fritha, I've never met a more idiotic, indolent…'
Khalid sighed again and tried in vain to block it out. They'd had 'discussions' like this before and they all ended the same way.
'…I cannot, no, will not, stand for this, this travesty any longer!' She yelled, finally whirling round to face him, her face twisted with anger. 'We are seasoned veterans, Harpers, and yet we are spending our time babysitting three imbeciles and some Rashemi tart!'
Silence hung between them. Khalid knew this was the part where he came in. The part where he agreed wholeheartedly and offered to help her pack, but…
He shook his head; he just knew he was going to regret this.
'You know, I don't think she's as stupid as she lets people believe.'
'What?' Jaheira spluttered, glaring at her husband, sheer disbelief finally silencing her.
'Fritha. I don't think she's stupid. I…er…' Khalid faltered. He hadn't really thought this through. What could he say? That he'd seen her before, noticed the calm way she'd watched the fight, the whispered words to Imoen, that it hadn't been an accident. Proof, though it would be, of Fritha's ingenuity, he doubted that Jaheira would see it like that. He looked up at his wife, her cheeks still glowing with frustrated rage, and made his decision.
'I…I just sense it that's all,' he finished weakly. Jaheira snorted her derision causing him to finally snap.
'Look! We've come this f-far. Let us just f-finish what we set out to do. We'll investigate the m-mines and if you still want to l-leave after that then I'm with you. But until then, let's just try to g-g-get along!'
Jaheira winced at his broken speech, guilt writhing in her stomach.
His nerves must be shot; he was usually completely at ease when they were alone together, even when they argued.
They finished changing in silence, and climbed in to bed, Jaheira leaning over to kiss him softly before putting out the light.
xxx
Fritha was glad to see that Jaheira's mood was much improved the next day, so much so, that she even forgot to shout at her and Imoen for dropping a bag of shot as they were hurrying to pack. Dynaheir too, seemed more subdued, her behaviour towards Khalid restored to its previous cordiality. In fact, everyone was acting with a kind of forced civility.
Imoen hadn't quite forgiven her for being made the dupe in the previous evenings antics and things seemed strained between Jaheira and Khalid as well. Indeed, the only person still on speaking terms with everyone was Minsc and, since he had constant company in Boo, the group made its way the few miles south to the mines in near silence.
She sighed quietly to herself, watching as the mines, a pale sandy scar in the green of the hillside, grew larger with every step. It was unnerving, trying to mentally prepare for another flirt with death when the party around her felt so divided. She glanced round with half a mind to chat to Minsc when Imoen caught her eye. Her friend looked more nervous than usual and Fritha wondered if she too had noticed the strangely splinted air of the party. She smiled hopefully at her and for a moment, she thought Imoen would wanly return it and turn away. The girl looked unsure of what to do, glancing ahead of her to the mines, close enough now that she could clearly see people milling about down there, the sunlight reflecting on the soldiers' armour. Imoen turned back to her and smiled, warm and genuine, and wordlessly they reconciled.
Moments later they were stood side-by-side, shingle crunching beneath their feet, in the great rocky pit that served as the entrance to the mines. Around them mining carts stood unused, miners huddled about them in small groups their low mutterings punctuated by heavy gurgling coughs. Fritha sighed unhappily; mining couldn't be a pleasant job at the best of times, without people trying to kill you and everything you managed to dig up being worthless anyway. However high the bounty on her got and however many times she found herself facing her own immanent death, it was always saddening to realise that you didn't have to look far to find people who had things a lot worse.
She looked over to where Jaheira and Khalid were talking to the owner of the mine, Emerson, a short but distinguished-looking gentleman who was dwarfed by the five Amnian soldiers who stood behind him guarding the entrance to the mine. He glanced over to where the rest of them were waiting, a doubtful look in his eyes and Fritha couldn't resist giving him a little wave while Jaheira glowered at her from over his shoulder. He turned back to the two and after a few moments more discussion, finally shook his head defeatedly and gestured for the guards the move aside. They were in.
Fritha shivered as another drip managed to find its way down the back of her tunic. It felt like they'd been down in those dank caves for days though, if she were honest, it couldn't have been more than a couple of hours. Though Emerson had been reluctant to let them enter at all, once persuaded, he was wholeheartedly behind them and had offered them maps of the mines, supplies and even a solider to escort them if they'd wished, much to the dismay of the guards with him at the time. They had refused though, accepting only the maps and together they'd entered the dim torch-lit passages of the Nashkel mines.
Once inside, a garbled conversation with a petrified miner about 'dog-headed demons', and it had become clear what they were facing.
'Kobolds,' Minsc had confirmed gravely, rising slowly from the tracks he had been examining and looking round at the rest of them.
Fritha hadn't been surprised by his confusion; though it was not impossible, in itself, for kobolds to have invaded the mines, for the creatures had been known to mine themselves on occasion, to infiltrate a mine and then poison the contents made no sense. Something greater had to be at work here, something they had yet to discover.
Minsc had led them onward, following the more prominent tracks deeper into the mines. Down into the second level they had travelled, then onto the third, only a few brief scuffles with small bands of kobolds breaking up the monotony of trekking down those endless passages. Finally, they too had ended and Fritha had found herself staring into the yawning black hole that signalled the end to the mines and the beginning of the caves beneath. The map was useless then; the miners never went that deep.
The party had seemed to shift places unconsciously; Jaheira and Khalid moving to take the lead, Minsc dropping back to guard the rear and the rest of them huddled together in between. At last, Khalid had taken the last torch down from the bracket at his side and slowly they took the first step into the darkness.
Now they were moving slowly about the caves, silent but for the occasional scrape of chalk against the tunnel side as Khalid marked their path. Fritha glanced back to her friend who was walking just before Minsc, constantly massaging her hands, her thin fingers twitching jerkily like nervous spiders and her heart went out to her.
Ever since they'd entered these caves, it had been one trap after another. Jaheira had taken it upon herself to travel at the head of the party, using her honed druidic senses to discover them, but whether her concerns for Imoen's safety or doubts in her ability had based her decision, she could not tell. But Imoen was the only one of them with the skills to dismantle any traps found; a lot of responsibility for the fledgling thief and Fritha had found her friend becoming more anxious with every step.
She coughed quietly, catching Imoen's eye and giving her a smile which was returned, albeit nervously. Fritha slowed her pace, waiting for her to draw level before greeting her quietly.
'All ready to meet the First Reader, then?' she asked, rubbing her hands together with relish, 'I hope Whelan there is too. Do him some good, it would; a swift kick up his preachy- '
'Shush!' hissed Jaheira, whirling to glower at them both while Imoen's shoulders shook with silent giggles.
Fritha smiled, glad to see her a little calmer, Imoen smiling back once she'd caught her breath and they walked on in companionable silence for a few moments more until the girl turned to her again.
'Fritha, what are we going to do when we actually find who's behind this?'
'Well, take them to Nashkel for trial, I suppose, and if they resist-'
'No-' she interrupted, more loudly than she'd meant to and earning them another dark look from the druid.
'No,' she continued quietly, once Jaheira had turned back round, 'I mean after that. When the mine's recovered and everything's, well, over.'
Fritha, stopped, amazed she hadn't even considered it.
What did she plan to do? Adventuring really didn't seem to be her thing, especially since the last tenday had afforded no less than six near death experiences. But, there was still the complication of the bounty hunters. It wouldn't be safe for her to travel alone until the populous were no longer being offered money to kill her.
Still, she had her whole life ahead of her for travel; an out of the way village and a name change could be all she needed for a fresh start…
'Fritha?'
Imoen was watching her, waiting for an answer.
'I… I don't know, to be honest, I haven't really given it much thought,' she answered warily, not wanting to say either way without testing her friend's preference.
'Me either,' she agreed, though Fritha doubted Imoen's answer was anymore truthful than hers. 'But still,' the girl ventured slowly, as though weighing every word 'it would be good if we-'
'Imoen.'
Both girls looked up to find Jaheira facing them and Fritha peered round her to see a great stone door set in the end of the passageway, its dark surface covered in rough carvings of things she could not quite make out.
'I said I've found another trap,' the druid repeated impatiently and Fritha followed her friend to the head of the group.
'Down there. Do you see it?' she continued, pointing to the floor a few feet in front of them, 'a cord running across the door.'
Her friend nodded, stepping forward to crouch down next to it, her pale fingers stroking along the top of the wire feeling its tension.
'It's some sort of bolt trap, I think,' she said with a frown, still gently plucking at the cord, 'but the tension feels different somehow. I… I don't think I can just cut it, the sudden release would set it off.'
Imoen began scanning all about her and Fritha followed her eyes to two small openings either side of the lintel. The thief rose gracefully, leaning forward on the tips of her toes and sniffed at the closest one once before inclining her head slightly.
'It, it smells of oil…'
Fritha swallowed and had to stop herself moving instinctively backwards.
An incendiary trap.
Suddenly her heart was in her throat; these could be notoriously complicated, if this went wrong, Imoen might…
'P-Perhaps we could find another way in?' ventured Khalid slowly as though reading her thoughts, glancing about him for support.
'This will be the only entrance,' said Imoen, her voice sounding somehow older as she stared at the door, her eyes narrowed.
'I-Imoen-'
'I can do this!' she interrupted, whirling to face them, 'I can!'
Jaheira glanced about them, her eyes finally resting on Fritha. She could feel her heart fluttering in her chest, Jaheira's hazel eyes looking down at her with their silent question while Imoen's defiant gaze bored into her back.
Finally, she nodded imperceptibly; more blink than actual movement, but the druid understood.
'All right', her voice rang out in the stillness, 'everyone move back. Imoen, when you're ready.'
Fritha watched as she returned to a crouch, shrugging her bag onto the sandy ground next to her to draw out a hand full of wooden pegs and a small rolled pouch that she unrolled to reveal a set of gleaming tools. Slowly she shifted to the wall and eyed the place where the wire disappeared in to the rough stone, holding her middle finger as close to it as she dared before going back to her pouch and going through the pegs, comparing them to her finger until she had the right length. Fritha held her breath as Imoen reached out and with steady hands fastened the peg over the wire as close to the wall as she could get and slowly screwed it shut. She moved deliberately to the other side, and ever slowly, ever patient, repeated the process before finally sitting back on her haunches and taking up her small metal shears.
Fritha tensed, ready to lunge forward and pull her back for all the good it would do.
Imoen raised the shears, placing the sharp blades on either side of the wire, took a deep breath and,
Snip
There was silence, everyone holding their breath.
Imoen's eyes darted left and right, checking the pegs were holding the tension even and Fritha watched as a slow grin spread across her face. All at once she was rushing forward to sweep her into a hug.
'You did it! You did it!'
They were both holding each other now, laughing with relief.
'Be quiet both of you!' Jaheira snapped half-heartedly, looking positively faint.
The rest had gathered round them now and Fritha moved back, allowing the others in to congratulate her while Jaheira checked the door.
'It does not appear to be locked,' she said with a grunt as she pulled the metal ring at its centre and the door slowly swung forward to reveal a great cavern.
Silent again, the group filed in, Fritha staring about her in wonder at the high vaulted roof, the tips of stalactites only just visible in the torchlight.
'Careful, child,' whispered Dynaheir, putting out an arm to stop her and pointing to her feet where the rock dropped shear to a vast underground lake.
'I-I think I've found a path across,' said Khalid ahead of them, swinging the torch low and checking where rock ended and water began,' yes, this way…'
He led them forward, across the narrow band of rock that spanned the lake and on to the ledge that skirted the other side of the cavern, before wordlessly extinguishing the torch. Ahead of them, a dim glow was streaming from an opening in the cavern wall; at signal from Jaheira, Fritha silently crept forward.
It opened on to another smaller cave but it couldn't have been more different from the one she was stood in. Torches glowed in brackets on the rough walls while on the floor, rugs and a few cushions were strewn. A couple of heavy chests lined the walls and over the furthest was hunched a large half-orc, rooting noisily through the contents and muttering to himself all the while.
'Not good enough, eh? Taking too long, am I? Lousy, whining…'
Silently she beckoned to the others and they slowly moved in to the chamber, Minsc putting himself determinedly in front of the entrance as the rest of them fanned out. Suddenly his muttering stopped and he whirled to face them, his murky porcine face slack with shock.
'Who in the nine hells are you lot!' he cried, before answering his own question, albeit wrongly, 'Tazok must have dispatched you and those traitorous kobolds let you pass, didn't they?'
Fritha opened her mouth to correct him but the orcman barrelled on regardless, his piggy eyes narrowed in loathing.
'I knew I couldn't trust them! By Cyric, not a measure of ore leaves this mine unspoiled and I am still to be executed? I'll not lose my head over this! Followers, to me!'
A loud crack sounded and thick smoke suddenly surrounded her, hiding the others from view while a clamour of familiar barking filled the air. She heard Minsc rush forward on her right, his battle cry echoing about the small cavern and a Relantuar curse told her Jaheira had already joined the fray. Something loomed in the thinning smoke ahead of her; too tall to be a kobold, she started forward expecting a friend only to draw back in horror, bringing her blade up just in time to block the mace of the leering skeleton.
The smoke was clearing now and she dispatched the skeleton with a few well-placed sword thrusts before taking a moment to glance about the cave. Jaheira and Minsc were fighting the half-orc, trying to keep him occupied enough to prevent any more spells and Khalid had backed into a corner, keeping the creatures at bay while the two women behind him fought with bow and spell.
She began to fight her way across to them; wading through the throng of kobolds and undead, striking at exposed flanks and undefended backs as she went. Finally, she heard a roar behind her a glanced back to see the half-orc finally fall. The skeletons before her crumbled, the few kobolds still left fleeing at the sight of their defeated leader and soon the room was empty save for the six of them and the bodies that littered the floor.
Still panting slightly, Imoen started forward to the closest chest, checking the surface for traps before lifting the lid and searching the contents, tossing them up to Fritha for redistribution. 'Cleric's ring, symbol of Cyric… Ooo, nice boots…' said Fritha, keeping up a running commentary as she passed the items out to the group. Finally, Imoen rose from the now empty chest, clutching the last item in her hands, a loose sheaf of parchment. She glanced it over before wordlessly holding it out to her.
'What is it, a scroll?'
Imoen shook her head, looking bewildered.
'No, a letter.'
Fritha's eyes flew over the cramped writing, her sense of unease growing…
'This just seems to get stranger and stranger…'
'Here, let me see,' said Jaheira from behind her, snatching the parchment smartly from her hands to read it aloud.
The group was silent a moment, no one speaking as the gist of the letter sunk in. Fritha sighed, feeling strangely anxious. How many people were involved in this seemingly profitless venture? They knew of three already,
'Well, two…' considered her mind dully, as she glanced down at the body she now knew to be Mulahey.
'Right,' said Jaheira, her commanding tones finally breaking the silence, ' we can look here for any other clues concerning this apparent scheme to poison the areas iron supplies and then… Well, we should probably pay this,' she glanced again at the parchment, '…Tranzig a visit.'
Murmurs of assent travelled the group and they finished searching the cave, but found little else of value; Imoen raking through the other chest while Fritha frisked the body, no one speaking much.
'Anything?' the druid questioned, glancing about them.
'Not really,' offered Imoen with a shrug, and Jaheira seemed to deflate slightly before,
'Right, there's no point in wasting time here, then.'
'Khalid,' she continued, a smile softening her words.
The fighter returned her smile as he hefted a new torch from the closest bracket and led the way back out into the darkness, the rest ambling after him. Imoen gave her a half-smile as they went, her voice low,
'Well, it seems we could still meet First Reader after all…'
xxx
Imoen sighed, her breath coming in a little white cloud, as she took in the bare frosted landscape of the Cloud Peaks; not a particularly high mountain range but late spring or not, the air at this height was still cold and made an interesting change from the cool wet weather to be expected in the lowlands. The ground beneath her crunched pleasantly with every step as they made their way back down to Nashkel, and the thief amused herself by seeing how silently she could move over the stiff grass as they went.
All in all, it had been an enjoyable couple of days in the Cloud Peaks; a little cold but there was something warming about the sense of camaraderie the group held now, something she felt would be important once they returned to Beregost. Plus, however cold the weather, hunting winter wolves hadn't exactly been all standing about, she considered with a grin as she watched the silvery sheen dance across the wolf pelts that were swinging from the back of Minsc's pack.
Jaheira had felt funds were running low again and, according to Fritha, a merchant in the village had promised her a good price for them when she was restocking their supplies, though knowing Fritha and the girl's inadvertent charms, the man would have probably offered to buy gibberling hides if she'd asked him too.
Imoen smiled as she buried her face into the warm fragrant fur of the heavy blue cloak her friend had lent her, glancing over to where she was walking, her hair, she noted, tied firmly up as it had been ever since the gnoll fortress. The war between style and practicality, it seemed, had finally been won, though to be fair, Fritha's hair wasn't accepting this result without a fight and was currently making its seventh bid to escape that day, curls springing free from beneath the wooden pins with her every step.
'Ah,' gasped Minsc up ahead, pulling her attention from her friend just in time to stop herself from walking in to Dynaheir, 'these pelts, they are very heavy. I can still carry them, but we will need to slow our pace.'
The ranger had dropped his pack to the frozen ground with a sigh, mopping the sweat from his head with an obliging sleeve.
'Here, I can carry one of them,' volunteered Fritha, pulling the top pelt from under his pack's straps and slinging it over her shoulder-bag, 'anyone else?'
'I c-could-'
'Don't be foolish, Khalid!' interrupted his wife brusquely, 'you are already carrying your shield. I shall take one.'
'I didn't think you'd approve of killing animals, Jaheira,' Fritha questioned conversationally, turning towards the older woman once she too had secured her pelt and the party had set out again.
'We did not take many and all were males; nature will not be adversely affected.'
'Yeah and neither will our pockets!' Imoen added with a laugh, knowing she'd offend the druid's sensibilities and relishing the trouble of it.
But before Jaheira could reply, a panicked voice cried out,
'Wh-Who are you?'
She looked up to see a man, well past middle age, his beard and hair unkempt and framing a face dominated by pale wide eyes. He had stepped from the shelter of a brush-covered outcrop in the hillside to stand in their path, undaunted it seemed, by their number or size.
'T'was that relentless Greywolf who sent you, wasn't it? Wasn't it!' he accused, brandishing a chisel at them angrily, 'I must finish her, I must!'
'What? We've nothing to do with this Greywolf fellow, whoever he is. Who are you?' snapped Jaheira, turning the sharpness no doubt meant for her on the stranger, but in his relief he seemed not to notice.
'Thank Deneir. I thought I was done in. I am not cut out for a life on the run.'
'I know who you are, I've read about you,' Fritha suddenly breathed, her eyes wide, 'you're Prism!'
'Who?'
'He's only one of the greatest artists of our time. You painted the ceiling of the temple of Lathander in Beregost, didn't you.'
Imoen would never cease to be amazed the sheer volume of useless information Fritha's mind seemed to store. Some normality seemed to return to the man's eyes at this recognition and he nodded with a pleased smile.
'Well, I've never heard of him,' Imoen muttered with a smirk, pleased to earn herself another dark look from the druid.
'But what are you doing out here?'
His smile widened, making him look as crazed as before and he led them round the rocky outcrop he had sprung from and parted the scrubby bushes to reveal a face carved into the very rock, two large lifeless eyes staring back at them; one as pale and grey as the rest of the face, the other a vivid green.
'She is beautiful, is she not?' he breathed with reverence, gently tracing the outline of it's delicate features with his hand. 'Tis a monument to my foolishness. I saw her once on the outskirts of Evereska and said nothing. I let thee pass from mine eyes and mine heart hath cursed me for it!'
He turned to them, his eyes wide once more, almost pleading.
'I am bound to this place until my task is done. I have not slept in days!'
'Are those real emeralds?' ventured Fritha, looking up at the sparking green eye with awe, and Imoen could see she was as worried about his behaviour as the rest of them; clearly the famed artist that painted the temple of Lathander bore little resemblance to this lunatic.
'Yes, and to answer your next question, they are indeed the ones reported as stolen and that have put a price on my head. But I care not! Nothing else that would capture the majesty of her eyes and I did what must be done.'
'As will I.'
Imoen whirled round with the rest of them to see a tall broad man, shaggy grey hair spilling over his shoulders, his face a web of scars.
'No! Not yet! My work is nearly done! Please, Greywolf, I implore you!'
'You're Greywolf?' exclaimed Fritha, looking highly affronted.
'Prism wishes only to finish his masterwork, what harm can it do?' said Jaheira reasonably, stepping forward in a conciliatory gesture.
'You should be more worried about the harm I can do!' he snarled in reply, moving forward to meet her toe to toe, a hand on his sword hilt, 'never have I taken a bounty and not delivered! Now stand aside that I might dispense with this fool and claim my prize.'
'No!'
Prism leapt forward with a cry; chisel in hand, in a desperate attempt to stop him. The blow didn't even make contact though, as the bounty hunter turned with agility that belied his size, and slashed him neatly across the stomach.
'Prism!' screamed Fritha, who started forward to catch him as he staggered backward, twisting just in time to parry the blade stroke meant to finish the artist.
Greywolf's eyes narrowed.
'You should have minded your own business.'
A heavy boot caught the girl just under the ribs and Imoen stifled a cry as she watched his sword slash deftly across her chest. Fritha's eyes widened and her face seem to pale as she stumbled backward, catching just enough breath to gasp, 'cold!' before slumping to the ground. Minsc roared, slamming into the bounty hunter before he could finish his attack and sending the man reeling into the stone face. Imoen raced over to her friend, reaching her just as Jaheira did, the worried look on the druid's face serving only to panic her further.
'Fritha? Fritha!'
Her armour was unbroken, but there was a cool blue tinge to her skin and her eyes were glazed. Suddenly a hand was on her shoulder and she turned to see Dynaheir looking down at her, her eyes gentle.
'I will help her, Imoen, rejoin the battle. I can do no more magic this day.'
She glanced back to the lifeless body of her friend, her breath, a frail mist above blue lips.
'But-'
'Imoen, do as she says!'
She stood quickly and turned from them, her fear making her angry, the two women's voices echoing in her ears as she moved warily back to the men.
'Here, help me take her armour off.'
Minsc was sat panting on a rock nearest her, his face screwed up in pain while he chanted dully over a nasty wound in his thigh. Imoen knew enough not to interrupt him and looked ahead to where the last the two warriors were circling each other warily, her fingers lightly stroking the pommel of the dagger at her hip.
Suddenly, Khalid stepped forward, sweeping his sword up from behind to cleave the assassin's head. Greywolf anticipated the blow, dodging to Khalid's right and slashing at his exposed flank. His shield behind him, Khalid raised his sword-arm to block with the vanbrace and suddenly he screamed, dropping his blade, and Imoen was amazed to see ice creeping up his gauntlet. Greywolf had his back to her now, all his focus on attacking Khalid, the air ringing with the clash of his sword on Khalid's shield.
Imoen saw her chance and leapt forward, dagger ready.
'Oh no you don't,' he yelled, whirling just in time to stop the blow, giving her hand a vicious twist as he disarmed her before shoving her to the ground.
Her attack had failed, but the seconds of distraction cost him dearly. Imoen watched from where she lay as he turned back just in time to meet Khalid's blade, grasped awkwardly in his left hand, and it was all over.
Imoen rose with a wince, cradling her hand to her chest, Khalid mirroring her as Fritha walked slowly back to them, pale and listless. Dynaheir and Jaheira carrying her belongings, flanking her like an honour guard.
'You okay?' she asked and Imoen nodded, about to reply when a groan cut her off. All turned to see Prism leant against his effigy, half hidden in the undergrowth, two bright green eyes watching over him.
'Alas, my work is complete,' he sighed, leaving a bloody handprint on the rock as he slumped backward, gasping, 'take what you will from my possessions but leave the sparkle in her eyes.'
Imoen and Dynaheir rushed forward to him, still hopeful, while the rest looked on with unhappy resignation.
'Please, hold still, we can still save you,' cried Imoen trying to staunch the wound with her good hand as Dynaheir propped up his shoulders.
'No, no, my body is too weak now.'
And with the last of his strength he flung back his head, as though calling out to his final creation.
'O, sweet creature, my effigy to thee is done, as is my time here. Perhaps our paths shall cross in distant realms and I shall find the courage to call thy name. Ellesime!'
One last breath and finally his body sagged, the mage gently lowering it back to the ground where it lay as though asleep.
'Oh, the poor idiot. What a waste,' sighed Imoen, shaking her head. She turned to the others, Fritha, who had seemed so worried before, looking strangely dispassionate.
Fritha nodded once, looking down at the body her expression unreadable.
'Have you got the spade Minsc?'
The ranger nodded, slipping off his pack to fetch it as the others turned to eye her curiously.
'Well, we can't just leave him like this, can we?'
'And what about him?' asked Jaheira, her voice strangely quiet, gesturing to the bloodied corpse that had been the hunter.
Fritha snorted, her eyes hard, and Imoen felt a cold creep over her that had nothing to do with the weather.
'The wolves can have him.'
Fritha brushed the dirt from her hands, her knees clicking as she rose from her crouched position by the fresh grave.
'There, what do you think?' asked Imoen and Fritha looked up to where the word "PRISM" had been clumsily etched into the rock below the face.
She nodded before turning to Jaheira, and the rest of them gathered round as the druid held a hand out over the freshly tilled soil.
'From nature we came and to nature we return. Silvanus' blessing be upon you.'
The group seemed to nod as one before breaking up each moving off to collect their own belongings and prepare for travel. Fritha swung her cloak back round her shoulders and picked up her sword.
'Hey, what are you doing?' exclaimed Imoen as Fritha drew the weapon and began to prise the emerald from the lifeless face.
'What does it look like? Here, lend me your dagger, will you?'
Imoen glanced warily to Jaheira but the older woman did not look too bothered.
'And what do you plan to do with those once you have them?' she asked casually. 'Even you must have enough hair trinkets by now?'
Fritha coloured slightly at this but her voice remained steady and she even managed a smile.
'Actually, I thought we could donate them to the temple back in Nashkel. The mine may have been restored but it will still take a while for the village to fully recover.'
Jaheira smiled too; she was suddenly beginning to see a glimmer of what Khalid had seemed to notice from the start.
'Yes, the donation of these to the temple is a fine idea. Some good may as well come from this tragedy,' she agreed, with a curt nod, 'Imoen.'
Dagger in hand, the stones were soon free and the group set off back to the village, the last snow of spring falling about them.
xxx
Khalid glanced to the dark glass of the windows, the light of the room making the night outside seem all the blacker. Unsurprisingly, the snow had eased-off before they'd even descended half the way back down to Nashkel, but the night air was still cool and the small inn seemed cosy and welcoming in comparison.
Dynaheir and Minsc had been with them earlier, Dynaheir, he had noted, putting a good deal of space between herself and Imoen. But they had left an hour or so ago, talking together in their thick Rashemi tongue as they went.
Khalid sighed contentedly leaning back in his chair and taking in the faces of the three woman sat around him. Across from him, Fritha and Imoen were chatting animatedly, their faces glowing in a way that had nothing to do with the firelight. Khalid smiled as he listened to them; the worries of the iron crisis and what they would find on their return to Beregost melting away as he sat there with a warm fire and cool wine watching the two bicker genially. You could tell they'd been friends for a long time, their easy banter peppered with quips and jibes.
His smile lingered as his eyes fell on the woman next to him. Jaheira had been unusually quiet for a while. Anyone else would have probably dismissed her behaviour; it couldn't be said there was nothing to reflect upon after the revelations at the mines. But Khalid knew his wife better than that and it was clear to him she was pondering something a lot closer to home. He reached out to give his wife's hand a gentle squeeze, the echoes of a promise he'd made still with him as he returned his gaze to the pair.
'And can you believe it? I'm mean 'chap' I can almost understand, but mistaking me for that six feet of lumbering bounty-hunting brute! Well! If I ever see that idiot again…'
Fritha made a violent gesture in the air, half backhand, half poke in the eye and Imoen snorted her amusement before continuing.
'Yeah, well, at least you only got your pride hurt, look at my hand! Bloody bounty hunters!' she said, motioning at her with three tightly bound fingers, 'I won't be able to hold my lock picks properly for days!'
'Like that's going to make much difference,' Fritha muttered in to her drink with smirk, ale slopping over the side of her cup as Imoen replied with an indignant shove to the shoulder.
'Hey, careful, you nearly got my autograph!' Fritha cried, whipping the paper from the table as the pool of ale slowly spread.
Jaheira sighed, rolling her eyes as she turned from him, a look of pure exasperation contorting her features.
'Really, Fritha! Are you still waving about that worthless scrap of parchment?'
'Worthless?' she gasped dramatically, holding it to her chest as though to protect its feelings from this unprovoked attack, 'I'll have you know that this piece of paper is signed by the one and only Larry, Darryl and Darryl!'
'By Silvanus, Fritha, that means nothing!'
Fritha gave her a supremely superior look, Imoen dissolving in to silent giggles at the sight.
'If you don't understand, I'm not going to explain it too you.'
Jaheira turned back to him, her lips pursed and Khalid was wondering what comment she was biting back when he noticed.
'J-Jaheira? Are you smiling?'
'And what if I am?' she replied archly, the smirk still fighting to break free.
Khalid shook his head with a grin of his own and somehow, from that point on, he knew their little group wouldn't be disbanding; they'd see this through together, right to the end.