Chapter Eight

(*)

It was when he looked up from the fire to see Sephiria had brought an elf home with her that Acherai began to wonder if perhaps his plans were unfeasible after all.

He could admit that part of the problem was that he just didn't like elves. Oh, he liked being an elf; natural dexterity and a lifespan measured in centuries was amazing. But the majority of elves he had met in his life were, to put it bluntly, insufferable little gits. Self-confidence was one thing, but the fact of the matter was that elves, regardless of whatever subspecies they chose to see themselves in, were a stagnant race that was slowly but surely going extinct. It was painfully easy to see, and yet most of them remained firmly convinced they were Toril's master race and were downright vicious to anyone who disagreed with that assessment. The drow were the worst, obviously, but all elves from the preening, holier-than-thou Gold elves to the viciously xenophobic Wild elves had the attitude to some degree.

Say what you would about Acherai's morals or lack thereof, but he was always on the lookout for opportunity, for growth, for improvement, for… well, profit. He valued nothing so much as his capacity to learn, change, gather new power and knowledge to himself. The notion of maintaining a culture that had been proven not to work simply because it made you feel better about yourself was absolutely anathema to him.

And of course, it was personal. His mother had been essentially banished from Evereska when he was a child, and none of the elves he had met had ever even told him why, instead choosing to act as though the young Acherai had not existed. She had clearly committed no crime, as she was left alone to live on the outskirts of the city, but she was clearly not welcome there either, and her child was unwelcome as well.

And since that solitude might well have been the reason she was dead, well…

Acherai did not look back fondly on his childhood growing up on the streets, exactly... but he did think that growing up around humans was a much better idea than spending the rest of his life around a bunch of elves. And yet, here his new pet paladin had gone about bringing one into his group.

And she hadn't even asked first!

"This is Kivan, a ranger from the Shilmista forest," she had said by way of introduction. "He has offered his assistance in our hunt for the backers of the assassins who attacked us, and may have valuable information on that topic. In particular, he suspects a connection between them and the brigands who killed his wife. As such, I have chosen to recruit him into the group as an ally."

The elven ranger bowed, and said, "Your enemies are my enemies."

"Bah. Another one, then," Kagain muttered. "At least seems a bit less pathetic than the other elf, but still too many tree huggers fer my taste."

"Oh my. An archer?" Garrick said. "Well, there goes my claim to being special."

"You were never special, Garrick," Acherai said, mostly not paying attention. "Sephiria, dear? A word in private?"

"I see no need," the girl said, a small smile on her face. "We are all allies, are we not? We should not hide our dealings from one another."

Bitch, he thought. Out loud, he said, "Very well. I question the necessity of bringing a man you met in the woods at random along on a task which has already led to one attempt on our lives. How can you be sure he is not a bounty hunter, or assassin?"

"Because if he was," Sephiria said evenly, "I would be dead. I was attacked by gnolls on my walk. If he wished me harm, all he had to do was shoot me in the back while I was distracted."

"Regardless," Acheria continued, undisturbed… at least visibly… by the sudden defiance she was showing. "We are walking into considerable danger. I hesitate to do so with someone I cannot trust."

Sephiria blinked, her gaze falling very meaningfully on Kagain.

"Not the same thing, dear," Acherai said flatly. "You. Kivan, was it? You said that you are hunting a group that killed your wife?"

"One in particular. The beast Tazok," the elf said, his tone a low growl. "Your leader said you hunt him as well. I do not care about any other task, nor any other target. I do not require payment, nor a share of any treasure we might find. As long as Tazok dies by my hand, I will serve your group loyally. That is all."

"Sounds fine to me!" Kagain said, brightening considerably at the notion of an ally who didn't want a share of the gold.

"Well, not to me," Acherai said, very softly as he turned back to Sephiria. "You want to know why I trust Kagain, my dear? Well, I don't, but I can predict him. His motivation is wealth. As long as I can offer him a better deal than my enemies, he will be loyal. If I can't, then I at least know where the dagger will be coming into my back from."

"Won't be in the back," Kagain said mildly. "Ain't no need fer stealth to kill a skinny thing like you."

"Oh, yes. He is clearly the perfect ally," Sephiria said dryly.

"He is, because I know exactly what he's going to do and when he's going to do it," Acherai retorted. "Garrick is no different. He might be a simpleton, but I understand his motivations and what he is willing to do to achieve them. But your friend here…" he gestured vaguely at Kivan. "That kind of trauma does things to a person. What if we encounter a situation where we need this Tazok character alive? What if we are unable to kill him? What if he's simply too powerful to be dealt with directly? Can we trust him to react reasonably to such a thing, or will he run in blindly and get us all killed?"

For the first time in the argument, Sephiria looked doubtful. "He is a noble soul. He surely would not…"

"Child," Kivan said gently. "I cannot honestly answer that question. You have no idea what was done to me, or to my wife. I cannot say what will happen if I come face to face with the monster responsible. I may well not be able to hold myself back, and if that puts the rest of you in danger, so be it."

If Acherai's words had her doubting herself, Kivan's made her jaw outright drop. "Surely you do not agree with him?! You clearly need allies in your quest, and we-"

"I would indeed prefer to have your aid, and it seems we share a goal," Kivan said, his tone maddeningly calm. "But my motivation is not a noble one, as you seem to wish. Arvandor is calling to me, do you understand that? My body and soul are telling me to die. The chance for my revenge is the only reason I continue to live. If I see a chance to claim it, however slim, I cannot trust myself to react reasonably. Avenging my Deheriana very literally means more to me than my own life."

Acherai smiled at the young paladin in triumph, and she narrowed her eyes. "Well. Unlike some people, I have faith in the concept of goodness. Justice. And if I can offer this man a chance, I will do so."

"Even if it's a bad idea?" Acherai asked with an arched eyebrow. "Even if he can't be trusted?"

"I trust," Sephiria said, "that when all else is said and done, a good person will choose the right thing. Even if he does need some help knowing right from wrong."

Acherai blinked at her odd tone and the way her eyes were locked onto his… until a thought struck him, and he had to fight not to laugh. Gods above, is she talking about me? Really, now? A week and she's trying to morally redeem me? He kind of appreciated the thought; certainly this bizarre power they seemed to share was worrisome, and a girl thinking she could 'change' you was rarely a bad thing if you were intending to manipulate her, but seriously. She couldn't be that naïve, could she?

… Paladin. She definitely can be. But at least she's a not a hypocrite, thus far, you don't see that in paladins very often.

Okay. So she is operating against me, but in a very moral way. And she's going to be making her own choices without asking, but they're going to be guided by naiveté and a genuine desire to help our group refine their moral code. So in other words, she an assertive idiot, but she's still an idiot. And as for her new friend…

You can never predict the revenge-crazed ones, but I don't really need to. Just make sure that when he snaps, he's pointed at someone other than me.

"Well. You are the leader, I suppose. Though in the future," Acherai began, "could you perhaps at least put this to a vote, before you bring in new blood? I recall we needed someone with healing skills, not another gentleman to drive pointy things into people."

Sephiria blinked. "That's a rather sudden change in opinion."

The moon elf put on his best smile, the one that made tavern maids blush and not particularly care if he was picking their pockets or not. "You're the leader. And besides, maybe you're right. I don't know this man. I suppose it isn't sensible to judge him before I see him in action."

And it's not like I can't still get what I want from this. It's just going to be a little more annoying.

The young paladin still looked confused, but she sat down by the fire and took a bit of the simple travel stew bubbling over it. The new arrival stayed in the shadows, avoiding the rest of the party, and Acherai closed his eyes to enter Reverie without a great deal of unhappiness at the situation.

Sephiria was not the puppet he had been hoping for, but she could still be a different kind of puppet, if he was careful. The potential for him to come out on top of the situation was largely unchanged.

And wasn't that the only thing that mattered?

(*)

The only thing that mattered, Imoen realized quickly enough, was getting Dynaheir out alive.

Fighting their way through a lot of gnolls was a bad plan. She could spot that pretty quickly, based on the fact that there were like thirty of them and they were all in a fortress that the party was, again, outside of. The fortress did not appear to have a door, because gnolls were not the best at architecture, but what it did have was only one entrance, which led up a narrow staircase. A frontal assault was clearly a really, really bad plan. Minsc didn't seem to care, but thankfully he was outvoted. Still, given the way he was shivering with fury and staring at the fortress, his hand clamped onto his sword, Imoen was very much of the opinion they needed to get this done quickly and get out of here, and said as much.

And through what the rest of the group could only assume was some bizarre miracle, Jaheira had instantly and firmly agreed. Even Minsc had been kind of cowed by that one. If Jaheira and Imoen agreed on something without even arguing about it first, it was clear that this was the plan to use, no question. And from that simple fact, they had observed the situation, pooled their resources as the group, and devised a strategy.

First and foremost, they would need three things. A path into the fortress that could get someone to Dynaheir's cell, a person able to follow that path, get to the witch, and get her out, and finally, something to draw the guards away from the cell in question. All three were easy enough to manage; there were several trees near the walls, and Jaheira's druidic magic could easily summon vines in vast quantities to bridge the gap between them and the top of the battlements. Second, Imoen was athletic and very used to climbing in and out of the windows of Candlekeep for… reasons… so making the climb and sneaking through the fortress was easily within her abilities. She was also the best suited to maintain her own balance while helping Dynaheir, who was most likely weak from hunger and fatigue after her captivity.

As for a distraction, well, they had a giant barbarian with a painted face and a wizard who specialized in mind-altering magic. If the two of them working together couldn't get a bunch of very stupid gnolls to pay attention to them, then something had gone terribly wrong.

There was one issue, though. And as usual, it fell to Khalid, in his role as what he was becoming increasingly worried was 'the sane one' to find it.

"W-well," he said, "It seems to me t-that we don't a-actually know where in the fortress we n-need to go."

"My love. I do wish you had brought this up sooner," Jaheira said with a wince. "Imoen. You are the closest thing we have to a scout. Can you determine the best point for insertion?"

Imoen scratched her chin thoughtfully for a few moments before saying, slowly, "Well… okay. The outcropping up there let me get a basic layout, and it's really not much of a fortress. More of a… big open pit with walls around it. There's basically no structure left, other than a staircase connecting the bottom floor to the top. The only place I saw to store a person would be some pits on the top floor, where the fortress is dug into the side of the mountain. I'd say we go up the ridge on the side of the fort and put me as close to the top as you can get me."

"… That was… surprisingly thoughtful, child," Jaheira said.

Imoen smiled proudly. "I am pretty good at breaking into places and finding stuff that other people don't want me to have."

"And my respect for you falls apart with barely a whisper," Jaheira murmured sadly. "But we have a plan, and we have an avenue of approach. Imoen, lead me to the vantage point you found, and I will prepare you a path to enter the fortress. Xan, Minsc, you will proceed to the entrance and create a distraction. Something large, but which preferably does not result in the entire fortress all coming to attack you at once and killing you."

"Worry not, friend Jaheira!" Minsc bellowed. "Well-known are the berserkers of Rasheman for our subtlety and grace! And any who would say otherwise shall be crushed by the fist of Minsc!"

Xan sighed. "Well. I knew I was going to die one day. I suppose being crushed between a gigantic smelly enemy and a gigantic smelly ally is not the worst way to end my existence. It shall render my death as meaningless as my life, if nothing else."

"… My love?" Jaheira said, softly.

"Yes, d-dear?" Khalid asked.

"You are a kind and gentle soul, and I know that you shall do all you can to protect our allies as best you can," she said. "But if the worst should happen and a choice must be made between your life and theirs, do feel free to use them as a shield."

"Worry not, friend Jaheira!" Minsc bellowed. "For Minsc shall guard your beloved with his life, and his life is nearly twice so large as most! Friend Khalid shall not take a single wound, as I charge into the midst of the foe and slay them all with swing upon swing of my mighty blade! Rest easy, fair Dynaheir, for your guardian shall soon secure your safety, and secure it atop a mountain of the bodies of those who would dare harm your noble soul! GO FOR THE EYES, BOO, GO FOR-"

"Minsc, m-my friend," Khalid said, mildly. "T-that is what we are n-not supposed to do. T-they have us outnumbered t-t-ten to one and have the high g-ground."

"… Ah. Yes. You see, this is why Minsc is so glad to have his friends here with him!" Minsc said brightly. "They are so clever."

The three members of the distraction team began their trek down the paths toward the entrance to the fortress, Khalid taking point, Xan rather reluctantly holding up the line, and Minsc in the back where he would have more people to hold him back if he forgot the plan, went berserk, and charged in blindly to his death.

Jaheira and Imoen watched them go, just kind of blinking in silence for several very long seconds.

Finally, Imoen said, "I have a good feeling about this!" her tone bright and cheerful as she began to skip up a separate path, returning to the overhang she had used for her scouting.

Jaheira tried not to scream.

(*)

Sephiria was not quite happy with how things had turned out; Kivan was, if seemingly a goodly sort, still very much an unknown factor. And Acherai... on the surface he had seemed to accept her display of authority, but she was not so certain that he was completely behind her, deep down. Most particularly, the fact that he had not spoken a single word to Kivan the entire trip back, but was very obviously watching him like a hawk at all times. For his part, the ranger did not seem to care, but he had to have noticed.

This was the opposite reaction Sephiria had been hoping for; she needed to make sure that Acherai was not exposed to any more negative influences than absolutely necessary. The power they shared was evil, but it would not control their actions unless they allowed it. She firmly believed this to be true, and she firmly believed that with a little luck and a lot of faith, she could help him find a path that led him out of the darkness. She had hoped the addition of a goodly ranger to the group, himself another elf just like her extremely confusing partner (and when did she start thinking of him as a partner in this ridiculous mess that was 'adventuring'?), would give her another example to use, a show of the righteous path and how it would prove ultimately more rewarding than allowing their inner demons to guide them.

Of course, Kivan's morality had proven more ambiguous than she had been hoping for, in the end. And Acherai seemed more annoyed by having another of his people in the group than she had expected. She wished Gorion were here, not for the first time. He would have known better how to handle the situation, he would have understood if she had broken some ancient elven custom or her new allies were simply antisocial, he…

He would have known what to do. He always knew what to do.

The group pierced the treeline, and Acherai smiled. "Beregost. Adventure completed, time to claim our just rewards."

She arched an eyebrow at his tone, and asked, "You wish to collect our reward first? Finding Tranzig is quite a bit more important."

"Well. I would argue that anything is more important than funding we very desperately need in order to procure supplies and… just generally look a little less pathetic than we currently do," Acherai said dryly, poking a finger through the lightning-scorched tear in her armor that the mad cleric had made, and prompting a squeak of protest she felt his finger brush her side. "But you do have a point. We're hardly all needed to drop off a holy symbol and pick up some coin." He snapped his fingers, as though a great thought had come to him. "I know! Sephiria, dear, you will take Garrick and our new friend to collect the reward. Kagain and I will deal with the location and interrogation of this Tranzig character."

He tried not to smile too widely as literally everyone other than Garrick protested.

"I am the leader of this party, and you shall not delegate me to mere delivery duty whilst our quest awaits! And further-"

"I ain't trustin' no prissy paladin an' no looney elf with that much gold, an'-"

"I refuse to allow you to drive me off on some meaningless errand while the trail to Tazok lies elsewhere, and-"

Acherai, without missing a beat, pointed to Kivan, Kagain, and Sephiria in that order and said, "You can't be trusted in the room with a minion of the man you're obsessed with killing; if he says something that makes you think of your wife too hard you'll kill him and we'll be lost. You cannot be trusted alone with large sums of gold, period. And you, bluntly, are possibly the worst person in this entire city to handle an interrogation. It requires a subtle hand, mental manipulation, the ability to dispassionately analyze a person and make them think what you wish them to think. You're about as intimidating and subtle as a kitten."

"A kitten?!" Sephiria squeaked, her cheeks blazing. "How dare you question my competence in such a manner!"

"You dare question my commitment?! My self-control?! I would do anything to find Tazok! Anything!" Kivan hissed, his eyes blazing with something not entirely sane.

"… Aye, I wouldn't trust me with that much gold either," Kagain admitted.

"So," Acherai said, "would either of you two like to admit that at some point Kagain became more reasonable than you? Or shall I just point it out for a few minutes whilst laughing?"

"This is not a laughing matter, child," Kivan said, his tone less venomous than before, but anger still bubbling under it.

"No, it really isn't," Acherai said. "If you're going to lose your temper so blatantly over the thought of Tazok, then you can't be trusted around a more concrete reminder. I don't know you. You can tell me all you like that you're not going to be a problem, but I don't trust easily. I'm not a paladin, I know how the world actually works."

"Ex-cuse me?" Sephiria grumbled.

"My dear, you are a paladin of the god of truth and you lived in a library for the first twenty years of your life. You are not a judge of people," Acherai said flatly. He gestured around the group. "Case in point, your current group is made up of an amoral mercenary, an idiot, and a revenge-crazed woodsman."

"Who's the idiot?" Garrick asked.

"That isn't my point. You know full well that I…"

"Yes, yes, you just want to save us all, you're full to the brim of morals and truth, you're a decent sort and you have the best of intentions, blah blah blah. None of that means you know how to interrogate someone, does it?" Acherai asked. "Look. You are the leader. If you really have a problem with it, we will follow your lead. But you should at least be able to give me a logical reason."

Sephiria tilted her head to one side. "Well. Maybe if I'm going to be the leader, I need to learn these things, then. Dealing with people, learning how to read them… that sounds like something important, don't you think?"

She's challenging me again. Not letting me get my way without a fight. And she wants to keep an eye on me, Acherai thought, once again struggling not to smile. She was so straight-forward it was almost adorable, albeit in a mildly annoying way. "It does indeed. Very well, I assume Kivan and Garrick can get the money on their own. We can trust Garrick to be honest, if not terribly bright, and I know Kivan wants blood more than he could ever want gold.

"You, oh fearless leader, will come with us," he gestured toward the bright red sign of Feldpost's inn, in the distance. "It's time to teach you how to be a people person."

(*)

Xan and Minsc made a diversion, and Khalid wondered vaguely if it was all right to actually let these two be in the group.

He could hardly fault their abilities, to be sure. Minsc was among the most powerful warriors he had ever met, and Xan seemed a capable and gifted mage. It was just that in terms of personality, they were not what he hoped to see in an adventurer. And he was aware that his own temperament was not quite what people 'expected' in those who made their living by the sword, but those two…

"Now, Minsc," Xan said, "you are almost certainly going to die if anything goes wrong with this plan. But if it makes you feel better, we will likely all follow you soon enough. Time is a merciless destroyer and even the longest of lives are as dust in the wind."

"I understand not your words, tiny man, but Minsc is a bastion of strength! To fall before those who kidnapped his witch would disgrace him forevermore!" Minsc said, covering himself in mud and fashioning a crude hat made of sticks and leaves. "And as you know, Minsc is a being of subtle dignity."

"Yes, certainly," Xan said, his tone so dry it could have dissolved a lake. "I see nothing wrong with that statement. Now, you do understand the plan, correct? You are not merely saying you do so I will stop explaining it?"

"Boo tells me not to answer this question."

"… Very well. I will begin casting the spells required while you make your charge, but please, do not charge until I give the signal to no you buffoon what are you doing?!"

It was worth noting that this probably had not been what Xan had meant to say. It was just that the exact instant that Xan had first said the word 'charge,' Minsc had done so without waiting to hear the rest of the sentence. A battle cry on his lips and a great deal of mud on the rest of him, Minsc burst from the small cavern they had been using as a planning ground, and ran screaming at the gates of the gnoll fortress.

"O-oh dear," Khalid said.

"Well! This will… be interesting," Xan muttered, closing his eyes, and falling deep into a spellcasting. There was a group of gnolls at the gate, and he needed to finish at least one of the spells outlined in the plan before Minsc arrived at their location and… well, died. The plan was simple enough, it should have worked as a distraction, but… well. Timing was a thing.

The gnolls looked up at the charging maniac, and a few of them snorted in confusion, but overall they didn't look too upset. There were six of them, after all, and they had over two-dozen allies mere seconds away. The sittings one stepped to their feet, snarling a warning to their allies and preparing their halberds to impale the bizarre thing. They weren't sure what it was, but it looked solid, which implied it was edible, if nothing else.

Minsc barreled into them, kind of just stampeding over the first one, screaming at the top of lungs, "I am the noble spirit of Rasheman! I have come from the heavens to slay the takers of witches and defilers of hamsters!" which was not exactly what he was supposed to say, but it was close enough. Gnolls were not hugely bright, and the actual writing of the dialogue probably wasn't important. Still, Khalid was forced to note that the gnolls did not appear to be either terrified by the distraction, or overly quick to call to all their allies.

"So," Khalid said. "S-should I go to h-help, or would that ruin the plan?"

Xan fought the urge to ask his erstwhile comrade to shut up, as he was in fact halfway through a spell and stopping for tea and a nice chat would actually ruin things rather horribly. He settled for giving him an annoyed glare.

"N-no, then."

Xan hissed out the final syllable of his spell and slashed his hand down, sending a wave of golden light toward Minsc, who was (as was his way) surrounded by monsters violently hacking at his face and the gnoll he had trampled over standing up and looking very cross indeed. The giant warrior swung his weapon wildly, trying to fend off five opponents at once. The gnoll he had stunned picked up its halberd, ready to stab him in the back…

And Xan's spell struck it. It stopped in its tracks, blinking in confusion, before roaring in absolute rage, "Death to those who harm the spirit of Rasheman!" It had no idea what this meant or why it was saying it, but those under a charm spell often did things that didn't make a great deal of sense to them. The creature ran into the fray, slamming the blade of its halberd down onto the head of one of its own comrades, screaming that Minsc was clearly the great god of all gnolls.

Xan let out a deep breath of relief, and said, "Well. That worked after all. We might survive."

"Y-you mean there was a chance it wouldn't work? And you didn't mention this?" Khalid asked.

"Well. The large man seemed so excited, I didn't want to disappoint him. Life will do that soon enough."

(*)

"I'll be damned," Jaheira murmured, looking down on the stream of gnolls charging down the steps toward the small (Oddly brown?) man that was now running away from them at impressive speed… helped, apparently, by the fact that they kept stopping to fight amongst themselves, or oddly just stop moving, as if they were falling asleep on the spot in small groups. "They actually… succeeded."

"Why do you sound so surprised?" Imoen asked.

"Khalid," Jaheira said primly, "is a veteran of many adventures, the finest warrior I know, and a cunning tactician. I respect him as much as I love him."

"So that's your way of saying you thought the other two would screw up, huh?"

"Your words, not mine. Now, let us move on," Jaheira said firmly. She slipped toward the evergreen they had chosen, and began to murmur a prayer to Silvanus, her hand touching the holy symbol hidden beneath her armor. A spark of green light danced from her figures, and the ivy wrapped around it began to grow, twisting up the trunk and weaving through the branches. The thin vines intertwined around themselves, wrapping together into strands thicker than rope that began to grow outwards through the empty air toward the wall.

"The spell will last for approximately twenty minutes before the vines return to their proper form. Please get in and out before then, if you do not wish to have to jump."

"No pressure, then," Imoen murmured, testing the vines under her weight and smirking. Yeah, this was gonna be fun. She scrambled up the tree like a squirrel, humming a little tune as she reached the top in a few seconds, very literally skipping across the ladder of vines and into the fortress.

Jaheira watched this. That is our master of infiltration and stealth, hopping across into a fortress full of monsters like a child playing hopscotch and humming to herself.

Perhaps Xan is right about us being doomed.

(*)

The joy of innkeepers was that they rarely wanted trouble with anyone. If you asked about a person, particularly a person who was behaving suspiciously already, they would almost certainly tell you where to find them as long as you claimed to be their friend. Even if they knew… as the good sir Feldpost clearly did… that you were lying. Acherai was not Tranzig's friend, he knew nothing about Tranzig, and he had no legitimate reason to ask which room Tranzig was in. And yet, the innkeeper was all too happy to wave the small group up the stairs to the inn's second floor. Because he didn't. Want. Trouble.

Wise man.

Tranzig was not a large man, which was surprising considering he was ostensibly some kind of mercenary-bandit. If anything, he looked more like what you would get if you took an already slender, bookish librarian-type of person, and gave him access to a career that allowed him to never, ever exercise. His hair was lank and greasy, which was a good match for his skin, and his robes hung off him like they were a tent he had decided to just try wearing as clothes one day.

Acherai tried very hard not to laugh as he took this all in. He was smart enough not to judge entirely by appearances, but Tranzig made it hard not to judge a little bit and find him desperately wanting. "Excuse me, sir?"

"Whaddya want?" the man snapped back. "Room's private. Get out."

"Well, I was just told to deliver a message to you, that's all. A man from the Black Talon mercenaries gave me fifty gold to send it along your way. You are Mr. Tranzig, right?" Acherai asked, using the tone of well-meaning stupidity he had cultivated in his childhood for speaking to adults. Elves tended to look younger than they were to humans, and one thing that everyone was willing to believe about someone younger than they were was also dumber than they were.

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but he didn't yell at the elf to leave again. "Hm. Idiots know they're supposed to deliver these things in person. Fine, gimme the letter and scram, kid."

"Oh, it's not a letter," Acherai said cheerfully. "He told me to tell you something."

Tranzig's eyes bulged out of his head so far it looked like they would fall from their sockets. "What?! Of all the unprofessional…! Fine. Fine, just tell me. Boss is gonna be furious no matter what happens now," the man muttered, his hand slipping behind his back to the wand in his belt. He would have to kill the kid, nothing for it now. Tazok wouldn't like a security breach of this magnitude.

"Hmmm, now what was it…?" Acherai said thoughtfully, once again trying not to laugh. "Oh, that's right! I remember now.

"His name was Nimbul, and he told me to tell you I killed him. And you're next."

Acherai stepped backwards, kicking the door open and letting Kagain charge into the room. Tranzig gave a rather undignified squawk of protest as the dwarf charged through the room and, just before he could pull out the wand and aim it, slammed a fist into his midsection with enough force to crush bone.

Sephiria winced as she stepped into the room, watching Kagain kick away the discarded wand and stomp the man's hands for good measure. "You could have tried talking to him first."

"He's a mage. See the wand? Gotta move in fast an' make sure they don't get all magical on ya," Kagain snapped, ignoring the man's whimpering over his broken fingers. "Ain't gonna be castin' no spells now, I guarantee."

Acherai shrugged. "The little mercenary has a point. And we are on a clock, so…" he knelt down beside Tranzig, and smiled. "So. Let's try this again, and we'll all be honest this time. Your name is Tranzig, yes?"

"Y…yeah…"

"And you want to live, yes?"

The fallen man gave a pain-filled chuckle. "N-not much chance of that. That's the girl, isn't it? The little bitch Tazok wants dead. If she's here… you guys found me… he's not gonna let me live."

Acherai sighed, drew a small dagger from his belt, and jammed it through Tranzig's hand and straight into the wooden floor.

"What are you doing?!" Sephiria snapped, grabbing Acherai by the shoulder and pulling him away as Tranzig screamed. "You said there would be no torture! You swore that…"

"I'm not torturing him," Acherai said mildly. "Torture is about hurting him for information. I'm just hurting him to show him how willing I am to hurt him. It's not the same thing. It's all a game, dear. I need to make sure that he is more afraid of us than he is of Tazok, you see? Though I'm glad you are paying attention."

"Th…aaaaaah!" Tranzig hissed in agony, as the knife was pulled out roughly. "That tells me… you ain't never met Tazok. Ain't nothin' you can do to me that he can't… do ten times worse."

"Oh. Ooooh, he's one of those," Acherai said cheerfully. "The horrible leader that everyone is afraid of? He can give you a fate worse than death? Hair-trigger temper? That is problematic. I don't think we'll be able to scare this one into giving us information, if he's that worried about Tazok. Kagain?"

"Yeah?"

"Kill him."

"Don't kill him!" Sephiria snapped, her words drowning out Tranzig's rather pathetic squeak of terror.

"Why not? You're a paladin, he's evil."

"First of all, just because I am a paladin, does not mean I approve of murdering everyone morally bankrupt we meet. We are in the middle of a town. There are guards and gaols for a reason," she said through gritted teeth. "Second, we don't know what he can tell us yet!"

"He isn't going to tell us anything. He's already said so. You're not wrong about torture, dear, it never works," Acherai said mildly. "The information you get is useless because they'll say anything to make the pain stop. And we clearly can't get him to talk any other way. So we have no reason to let him live."

"Other than the fact killing him is morally wrong?"

"Morally wrong is such a loaded term. The thing about conspiracies, dear, is that members rarely end up imprisoned for very long. He has to know that if he ends up with the gaoler, he's also going to end up dead soon after," Acherai said, his tone still maddeningly reasonable. "So really, he is pretty doomed no matter what we do. Might as well end it quickly."

"Wait, wait," Sephiria said. "Are you even listening to yourself? The solution is clear enough. Sir Tranzig…"

"Ain't a knight," Kagain noted, his hand in place to crush Tranzig's throat if needed.

"Principle of the thing, Kagain. Sir Tranzig. As you may have noticed, my compatriot deeply wishes to kill you," Sephiria said gently. "I am trying to avoid this, I truly am. But I need you to help us."

The man laughed bitterly, a sob of pain under the sound. "S-seems kinda pointless. Elf's not wrong. Tazok will never let me live after this. Nothing I can do."

"You can run," Sephiria said. "Fake your own death and flee the region, as fast and far as you can. And if you tell us where to find this Tazok, then we will ensure he is far too busy to follow after you."

"You… you think you can take him down? You? A buncha damn kids?" the man snapped… but behind his tone was something oddly hopeful.

"We 'took down' Nimbul," Acherai said, his tone very soft, barely audible. And yet, it filled the silence more loudly than shattering glass.

Twenty minutes later, a man with bandaged hands limped out of Feldpost's inn, heading to the stables as quickly as he was able.

Sephiria and Acherai stood in the doorway, watching as the horse began trotting out of town to the South, one of them smirking wickedly and the other looking vaguely sick with herself.

"I am a little embarrassed that worked so well, I really thought we were too obvious about it. You, my dear, are an outstanding good cop."

"You didn't tell me you were going to hurt him," Sephiria said softly. "You promised there would be no torture."

"Oh, do grow up. He was a mage, after all, we could hardly just let him wave his hands around. He has money, a horse, and all his limbs are still attached. Considering he works for the people who tried to have you killed, he got off fairly light," Acherai said. "And besides, we had to make sure he was afraid of us."

"It still… sits wrong with me. He was helpless."

"He was the enemy. And besides, you will have to get used to blood at some point, dear. Unless you're forgetting that our little band has already put three assassins and a serial murderer in the ground, and picked up a new friend who is hoping to up that body-count considerably."

She sighed. "You don't understand. There is a difference between killing someone in the heat of battle, and doing it in cold blood when they can't fight back."

"Yes. The second one is easier and safer."

"Is that really all you care about? What is easiest for you?" Sephiria snapped, her tone making it unclear if she was angry at him, or herself for association with him. "There has to be something more to you. There just… has to."

"What can I say? I'm a survivor. And since you seem like someone who desperately needs a little help on that front, maybe you shouldn't be quite so judgmental," Acherai said softly. "Besides, I compromised, did I not? He's alive. You got what you wanted. And the group got what we needed..."

He unfolded the group's map of the region, a location just north of the Larswood region marked with a charcoal 'X' where Tranzig had told them Tazok's brigands made their camp.

"A target."