Okay, being that I've decided I enjoy having my ranger talk to herself in her own head, I've decided Raz and evil Raz should talk to each other constantly! So to avoid confusion, Italics means Raziel's thoughts, and Italics in these little thingies are the other, more twisted Raziel's thoughts.

Disclaimer: I own plotline and Raziel and I guess Quinn. (not that I want to, the jerk) After all, if I owned Baldur's Gate, would I really be writing this fanfic. Nah, I'd be rolling in piles of dough. Lucky bioware.

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Revision notes: Er….. I added a bit. This is kinda when I got my thoughts together, so it wasn't that bad of a chapter to begin with. Finally got working scene dividers! Yay!

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Waking quickly as she always did, Raziel groaned ad stretched her muscles. Sleeping in a damp, cold place in a quite uncomfortable position was beginning to make her sore when she woke up, an unpleasant feeling that she expected to get from a day's travel, not from slumber.

It had been two day since her capture, and Raziel wanted out. She had always hated being enclosed, probably due to her elven ranger spirit. And the boredom! There were only so many times she could count the cracks in the stones around her before going insane.

If she wasn't already, that is.

She had had few visitors in her short time here. She had determined she was in Athkatla, probably somewhere near that infernal Order of the Most Radiant Idiot's little hideaway. The knights had no tact about talking to and around a prisoner. It had been easy to gain from little details in their speech an idea of her location.

The knights were probably after her for burning down Tarquinn's temple, for they had been on good terms with the Bhaalspawn when he was still around. Besides, knights were always sticking their noses into everyone's business, and anything having remotely to do with a Bhaalspawn seemed to be particularly important to them.

Both Anomen and Keldorn had traveled with Quinn's party for a while and had been Quinn's friends. Keldorn had been friendly enough, but she hadn't really liked Anomen. Too pompous, and a little too interested in her.

Of course, she had seen neither of them in her time here. Jaheira had come in once more, the previous day, to tell her she would be brought before some council or another in several days to receive judgment, placing a deadline on Raziel's escape. Imoen too had visited once, but Raziel had ignored her, hoping to save her old friend (and herself) from emotional harm.

Other than that, there had only been the guards that brought her her meals. They were tasteless gruel, though sometimes there would be something better to eat.

Today was one such day, apparently. The guard opened the thick wooden door to bring her bread, and what looked like meat.

"Yer friends were complainen' that you weren't bein' fed right," said the guard. He obviously didn't agree with such sentiments. Raziel almost winced at his obvious lacking in grammatical education.

Then her disgust turned to carefully hidden glee. She could use this to her advantage. Ha! She would get out of here yet. Trying to hold her in a cell…. What were they thinking?

"Please, sir," she said softly, "could you perhaps give me a knife to cut the food with?"

The guard snorted. "What? Give you a weapon? Not likely."

"A fork then?"

The guard looked at her with obvious mistrust.

"Please, it would make things much easier. And besides, I don't think Lady Jaheira and Lady Imoen would like to hear that I choked to death, do you?"

The guard sighed. "Fine, I'll get ya a bleedin' fork. But you injure anyone with it and I'll…"

"I wouldn't dream of it," she said softly.

Yes you would

I am not going to stab the poor man! He may be a dimwit, but I don't need to kill him.

Are you trying to convince me or you?

You are me

Touché

The guard returned shortly with a fork. He threw her and left, obviously afraid she was going to gouge his eyes out. Raziel caught it deftly.

Raziel watched the door carefully, waiting for any movements through the barred window. After a few moments of pretending to eat her dinner, she stopped, confident no one was watching her. Picking up her fork, she lifted her wrist to look at the manacles. She then took the pronged head and began to work at the look.

Thankfully, when traveling together, Raziel had become a very good friend to Imoen. She had taught Imoen a bit about the forest and in return Immy had shown her some basic lock-picking skills. Raziel silently thanked her for all she had taught her as she worked at picking the locks. Thankfully, the ones on her wrists were quiet simple and she was able to open them easily. She then set upon the ones on her ankles, which proved to be much harder than their predecessors.

Bad luck struck and the prong broke off of the fork and got stuck in the lock. Cursing, she tried to remove it from the manacles but to no avail. Now she was really and truly screwed. Not only was she not free but half of her was unlocked, the lockpick stuck in her manacles. If that was not damning evidence, nothing was.

Raziel's head shot up from its slumped position as she heard the door open. She quickly tried to hide her arms from view, but she ended up just tangling the chains and making too much noise. She groaned and closed her eyes, readying herself for the yelling and blows that were sure to come.

Nothing. Raziel opened her eyes to find a tall, muscular figure standing over her. He bent down and, of all things, opened the locks that held her with their key.

"Who…" she whispered. The figure shifted so that the lights from outside the door hit his face.

It was Sarevok.

He smiled at her. "So surprised, elf?"

"Why?"

"Because you amuse me. There is nothing I like to see better than one of my dear brother's oldest friends cursing his name and burning down his temples."

She stood up, rubbing her tender wrists. She still didn't trust him, but was glad, at least, to be free from her chains. Sarevok handed her a bundle of what seemed to be clothes and food, then her short sword, bow, and arrows.

"Thanks," she said softly.

He nodded and frowned. "You were never unkind to me, Liaedra, even though you probably suffered at my hands. Think of it as….. a payback long overdue."

She nodded then walked towards the door. Then she turned back.

"You know, Sarevok, you are not bad for a petty tyrant," she said, grinning.

He grinned back. "Nor you for a weak, over-emotional elf."

She murmured her thanks once again, than ran off along the passageway.

Leaving Sarevok to determine why exactly he had helped the elven maiden.

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Getting out of the building had been easy. Raziel had been right; she had been in the Radiant Heart's building. However, it seemed it was beneath them to post decent guards. Raziel felt almost insulted.

As she wandered the streets of Athkatla, heading for the main gate, she remembered all the time her party had spent here when she had been with Quinn. She had not been here since his ascension, so she found her mind flooded with memories. The escape from Irenicus, the constant attacks from vampires and muggers, and the ever-present reek of the city. She remembered when she had been kidnapped by the vampires, when Bodhi had turned her into a vampire and had forced her to attack her beloved. And how he had carefully carried her all the way to the sungod's temple, to heal her from her vampiric curse.

He seemed to love me so much then. He and I were always together. Imoen used t joke that we were so sweet toward each other that we made her sick. What happened?

Love is ad inconstant emotion. It does not play by the rules. Hence, it should be avoided at all costs.

Yes, I believe I've learned that lesson the hard way, thank you. And by the way, who or what are you?

I am you

Bullshit. I think I'd know if I was talking to myself.

Perhaps you are insane

Not that insane. And you just called me you, so you can't be me or you'd be calling me me.

Hmmm. Perhaps I am not you The voiced chuckled. I suppose you'll find out yourself.

She sighed, turning her mind away from the conversation with whatever that damn voice in her head was and had it focus on the current problem. Where was she going to go?

Reminding herself of her previous train of thought, she realized she knew one of the safest places to hide. Amaunator's temple. No one had yet taken residence in it.

She smiled as she began to head to the northeast, heading away from the dreadful city of painful memories.

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Next chapter: Anomen throws a tantrum, and plans are made.

BTW I am well aware the word "touché" does not exist in Faerun but I could not resist. So sue me. Not literally. Please.