Chapter Twelve
(*)
The meal was watery stew and travel biscuits. There was almost no taste to any of it. Sephiria had never enjoyed a meal more, entirely because of the company.
"And then we went to a fort full of man-dogs!" Imoen squealed. "I would have been scared, but after I defeated that evil priest and his army of lizard-dogs, I had a lot of dog fighting experience." She paused. "That came out wrong. You know what I mean. And then..."
"Immy," Sephiria said, trying her hardest not to choke from laughter, because she had never been happier to see Imoen and she almost physically could not stop eating. "You don't need to tell me everything right away. I'm not leaving again."
Imoen pouted. "You say that. But you left, and Gorion... ...and I have had to spend my time with these people, and Jaheira is scary."
"Really? She seems nice to me..." Sephiria said, looking over at the brunette half -elf, who was sitting out near the edge of camp staring blankly into space while her husband patted her shoulder comfortingly.
"Yeah, well, she ain't usually this quiet. I, uh, think she's kinda...embarrassed," Imoen whispered. "She, uh, kinda thought I was you. She's not happy with anyone right now."
Sephiria blinked. "Why did she think you were me?"
"... I may have fudged some details on who was actually raised by who. Really, 's her own fault. She didn't even remember your name!"
Jaheira made a sound halfway between a sob and a growl.
"Well, being pissy about it don't change anything!" Imoen said, sticking her tongue out.
"Imoen," Sephiria said, happier to be exasperated with her sister than ever before, "why did you not tell the truth? They are father's friends, they would have helped you."
"... ... Lying seemed easier?"
Sephiria smiled. "I am entirely too tired to lecture you about Torm, so I shall settle for saying you are impossible. As well, I believe I am well enough to tell what I have learned."
"Blessed Silvanus, have mercy," Jaheira snapped, stomping back into the circle of the campfire. "Please, child, continue. I am desperate for business to take my mind off all...this."
And so, Sephiria, feeling safe for the first time in far, far too long, began to tell her story.
About an hour later, when she had finished, Xan said, "So, may I leave the group? I fear my life is dangerous enough without adding a bigger doom magnet than myself to the group."
(*)
"Cloakwood Forest," Acherai said, looking on his map toward the woodlands that Tazok's documentation had told them to look for. He took a deep breath, and smiled. "This is going to be awful."
"Then why, in Shar's name, do you look happy?" Viconia snapped, the absence of any ladies in the group making her cheerfully revert to the traditional Drow response to males: Endless belittling.
Well, at least she is pragmatic enough to not do anything more than lash out verbally. Better than some women. "Because despite myself, dear Viconia, I am vastly pleased at the most progress I have ever made. And the notion that a hidden mine cannot, by necessity, have too many guards if it wishes to stay hidden. A small, elite team should be able to pierce security and seize the overseer. This is more than manageable."
"And the 'terrible' aspect."
"The Cloakwood. A hundred square miles of forest filled with wolves, tasloi, giant spiders, hamadryads, bears, and the occasional wyvern," Acherai said. "The mines will be simple. This damnable forest will be a nightmare."
"Yer elves. Elves like woods," Kagain said with a shrug.
"I am not an 'elf,' oaf," Viconia hissed. "My place is in the darkness, not frolicking in some starlit glade like an imbecile."
"The drow speaks for me, though not so charmingly as I would have put it. Such a trek vexes me. If we want to make it with energy to deal with the mines at the end, we need additional sword arms, and preferably a second mage if possible. Kagain?"
"Aye?"
"You have done sellsword work in this region. Where, pray tell, would you suggest we go looking for some extremely violent people in the mood for a good payday?"
The dwarf blinked a few times as he pondered this, and grinned. "Aye, mayhaps a few ideas come ta mind."
(*)
Envy was a sin, and so Sephiria was in no way envious of the fact Imoen had managed to find a group of charmingly quirky but overall goodly folks, whereas she had been press-ganged into a group of amoral murderers.
Not envious at all.
"So then Minsc was all like, 'gaze upon my hamster!'" Imoen continued.
"Little Imoen speaks the truth! These words have often issued from the mighty throat of Minsc!" Minsc agreed.
"Gods above, so often..." Dynaheir muttered.
"And I assume they never committed any theft or murder, either," Sephiria grumbled. "Merely spent their time frolicking with quirky elf wizards and saving helpless dryads."
"I am not quirky, and do not frolic. Also, I genuinely do wish to leave the group," Xan said. "This woman is distinctly unlucky. Admittedly, all people are plagued by misfortune to some degree; the world is a cold and empty place which amorally digests us all, slowly and surely. But her. She is perhaps the most certain harbinger of doom I have ever seen."
Sephiria tried not to growl. "Of course, as soon as I arrive, the group begins to collapse. Perhaps I am a doom magnet..."
Imoen patted her on the back with far too much force, and then rubbed her hand as Seffie's back hurt the hell out of it. "Don't worry...ouch...sis! Frankly, we should only have six people anyway."
"... Why?"
"Seffie. Really. The fact you need to ask that is just one more sign you aren't prepared to be an adventurer," Imoen said sagely.
"Everyone. Silence," Jaheira said. "We are coming up on the bridge. If the Iron Throne is truly involved in this, we cannot trust anyone in the city of Baldur's Gate, save those too wealthy and powerful to be bribed or threatened them...and any such as they will certainly have their own plans."
"Will we not need a patron?" Sephiria asked. "There are only seven of us..."
"Six!" Imoen insisted.
"... Facing the whole of the Iron Throne. Certainly there must be someone who will ally with us?"
"J-Jaheira and I have some allies who may intervene," Khalid said. "F-further, we can generally trust the Flaming Fist, w-who act as the l-law locally."
"Ha! Mercenaries," Jaheira snapped.
"D-darling, you know Duke Eltan c-came highly recommended."
"He came recommended by someone I would not recommend. The man is impossible."
"I t-tend to call that t-the right of the elderly," Khalid answered with a chuckle. "And y-you may notice the F-Fist are holding the bridge, so."
"Fine. We shall speak to them," Jaheira said with a sigh. "At the least they will probably be less dishonest than Imoen."
"That was rude," Imoen said.
"We are going to ally with the Flaming Fist?!" Sephiria squealed. Yes, squealed. "I have heard many stories. Duke Eltan is widely known as a fair and noble ruler."
"Stories of most rulers tend to be exaggerated, child. For good or ill."
"Indeed. For instance, the story of why people call me 'Scar' gets more exciting every time I hear it," commented one of the first men Sephiria had ever met that she had to look up to talk to. Besides being unreasonably tall, he was broad-shouldered, with the build of a fighting man and his dark beard was streaked with enough grey he was clearly good enough at it to live a long time. He gave the group a friendly smile as he stepped past the gatehouse and off the bridge into the city, but it didn't quite show in his eyes. "And nobody has ever gotten it right. Imagine that!
"Now, then. Seeing as you all match the description we have been getting regarding some folks who raised a ruckus in Nashkel, how about you share your story? We'll compare it to the ones we've heard, see how everything pieces together, and maybe even not arrest you all."
(*)
The reason Acherai valued Kagain and considered him the best possible companion was that he was, in his own way, reliable. He was unerringly competent and did every job that came to him with steady determination, and he didn't stop doing it until he was either done or felt that he couldn't gain anything from continuing. If you paid him, he would do it for you. If you didn't, he wouldn't. Acherai paid him, and so when he asked Kagain to acquire some like-minded sorts, he did it.
And the reason why Acherai was in command of the group became apparent shortly after, because while Kagain was certainly reliable, he was not terribly creative, nor all that discerning in terms of the blades he gathered.
"No. Not my way," the woman said, brushing her strawberry blonde hair out of her face, a gesture that would have been rather attractive had that face not been set in the most venomous scowl he had ever seen on a human woman. "A group with this many men is asking for a knife in the throat. I'll need assurances I can trust any of you scum to watch my back."
He was forced to admit he kind of missed Sephiria; this Shar-Teel was nearly as tall and similarly muscled, but where Sephiria had made it seem elegant, the new arrival appeared to be one rude comment away from gutting everyone in the room, then spending their money on ale until she passed out. He hadn't even realized armor could get as absolutely abused as hers without outright falling to scraps. The other two crazies the dwarf had dug up, the orc and the mage, seemed workable enough (if rather overbearing), but this woman was distressing.
"My dear Ms. Shar-teel..." He began.
"Talk down to me again, and I'll make you watch while I eat your liver."
Sweet Mystra, patience. "Fine. Blunt we shall be, then. You have been offered one-sixth the plunder of an illegal mine run by ludicrously wealthy merchants. What more assurance could you possibly need?"
"One. Two. Three. Four," she snarled. "Four men. Only woman in the whole squad is a damn drow. I know that every damn group I've worked with that had a makeup like this ends up dead. Horribly."
"... Because you kill them?"
"What did I say about talking down to me?!" she snarled. Did she have a tone of voice other than snarling, really?
"I was not. I was just assuming based on the fact you seem to have presented no actual objection other than hating men. In general."
"Clearly the result of not meeting many," the red-robed mage said. "Few enough in these lands could be called a real man. (Indeed, none in this company, save perhaps the crazed barbarian herself. I shall watch closely for an Adam's Apple.)"
"And I do. For instance, I'd love to wear this squirrelly little bastard's head as a hat, and I will next time he mocks me," Shar-Teel said flatly. "But more than the hate, I just don't trust them. They get greedy, rush in, turn on you if something better comes along. And then you have to cut off their pr-"
"Wow," Acherai said sadly. "I pine for Garrick, suddenly. Look, my dear horrifying lady. I understand that you are horrible. So let me be frank: I need someone to murder an awful lot of hired mercenaries, and my friend informs me you'd have a gift for that. I believe him, based mostly on the fact I think you'd probably murder anyone who got within sword distance anyway. Do you want in, or no?"
"Depends. I need proof you have my back. I need to know you're reliable."
"Fair enough. How can this be-"
She drew her simple, battered, but awfully sharp-looking sword. "I'm going to kill you. Stop me."
"... Son of a..."
(*)
Seffie was only about six inches shorter than Minsc and definitely had the shoulders of someone could put a sword through both a shield and the person behind it. This made it kind of hard to remember, at times, that she was actually not any older than Imoen herself.
This was not one of those times.
"And then the serial killer Neb was caught outside Beregost, ending his deadly rampage," she squealed. "And then they defeated the bandit lord Markos the Red in the Woods of Sharp Teeth, ending his raids on the coast road. And then..."
"Seffie. Think he knows his own career," Imoen said. She turned to Scar, who against all odds had turned out pretty nice, and said, "Sorry about this, big guy. She's the goofy one, y'know? Hard on her family."
"Immy."
"What? It's true. The moment anyone in shining armor going on about justice shows up, you go all goofy! It is so hard on me being the responsible one," Imoen sighed. Jaheira, already unhappy that the two girls had somehow taken over negotiations, made a kind of choking sound at this declaration.
Scar chucked, waving off the protest. "Worry not, ladies. Believe it or not, enforcing the law does not win many fans. It's good to see such enthusiasm in the young."
"Indeed! Let the voices of the children ring out for justice!" Minsc declared. "Friend Scar, your words have touched Minsc's heart. Should you journey ever to Rasheman, know that you will be welcome in the Ice Dragon Berserker lodge, assuming Minsc is there to welcome you or has had time to deliver a reasonable description of you to the proper parties."
"... How...nice?"
"Boo appreciates your thanks."
"...Right. Anyway..."
"You can ignore them, sir," Sephiria said. "But, um, I really do think they saved the mines. I don't...have the documents anymore, but I know that the person tainting the Nashkel mines was connected to the bandit camp my previous group destroyed, so they wouldn't let me travel with them if they had been helping him!" She paused. "Not even Imoen, though she can't trusted around cookies or shiny objects."
"Dammit, Seffie, stop making me sound like a bird or something."
"If it helps," Scar said dryly, "it didn't take long for lawman's instincts to suggest your group was not made of rampaging criminals."
"I am not with them," Xan said.
"Really? Because I have need of someone competent and new to the city, and I pay well."
"Money is meaningless in comparison to the utter despair brought on by every waking moment we continue to struggle through an uncaring cosmos."
"Don't listen to him, we love money!" Imoen squeaked.
"But, I fear we also have our own goals to pursue, you may recall," Jaheira said, standing up. "I apologize to the officer, but no more delays. We have much to do and little time to..."
"We would be happy to help, is what she means," Sephiria said firmly. "Anything for the good of the city and its people."
"And get paid! Don't forget payment," Imoen agreed.
"However, rather than a payment in gold..."
"Seffie don't you dare."
"...we would instead request the Flaming Fist's help investigating a group we believe connected to the Nashkel crisis. They are called the Iron Throne...?"
Scar blinked a few times, and that smile which didn't quite seem real stretched across his face again. "Well. I have to say that making an accusation like that toward a pillar of the local mercantile community is quite an unkind act. However, if you were to, perhaps, investigate a series of very strange events at the Seven Suns trading coster, in the Merchant district, I would forgive your rudeness. They are, after all, run by a good friend of mine, who has been behaving oddly and running his business into the ground...something the Iron Throne quite approves of, them being competitors and all. Of course, I am sure upstanding businessmen would never be involved in such a thing. Unless someone were to find some proof, perhaps."
And for the first time in the conversation, Jaheira actually smiled.
(*)
"You cheated," Shar-Teel snapped for the tenth time, as the group hiked through the outer edge of the Cloakwood.
"You never said 'no magic.' And technically speaking a Dire Charm can be resisted by those with a strong enough will, so by not doing so you basically beat yourself."
"And I admit to some amusement that you literally forced her to do so. (Even if your casting technique is so sloppy it brings to mind a particularly stupid infant.)"
Acherai sighed. "Edwin. I can hear you speaking. Do not make me kick you out like I did...what's his name. The creepy orc who kept staring at my ass."
"An' why did ye kick him out?" Kagain muttered. "Good sword arm. Good reputation fer slaughter. Built like a damn giant."
"First, because he kept staring at my ass, as mentioned above, and while I don't mind being admired a bit I do ask they be charming about it. Also female, and ideally not a giant black-armored murderer. Second, he wanted to drag is into another damn vengeance crusade, and after dear, unmissed Kivan almost killed us all, I am in no hurry to take that road again." He paused. "Also, I don't know, I feel like he didn't fit. Does anyone else feel like he just kind of stood out in a weird way? It made me jumpy. So we'll make do with a smaller team, unless we meet someone useful in the woods."
"In the woods?" Shar-Teel asked, her tone somewhere between disgust and confusion. Hey, it was better than a snarl.
"You mock, my dear, but it happens. Just ask lovely Viconia back there! Right in the middle of the woods, just as we needed a cleric's aid. I consider it a sign Tymora favors our path," he said cheerfully. "Or that most adventurers are wood-dwelling maniacs."
"Lookin' at us, guessing the second," Kagain said.
Shar-Teel turned to Viconia. "You tolerate this?"
The priestess shrugged. "I have few other options. Besides, for a darthiir he is actually admirably drowlike. A bit soft and frivolous, but what surfacer isn't?"
"Gods, I may have to kill everyone here just on principle."
"A thought I share, my lovely," Edwin...well, oozed.
"Especially him."
"(As if the harpy will survive my own inevitable rise to power. Certainly losing the trail of the Rashemi witch has not helped my status, but each mockery they level my way makes the wrath of Thay more certain to fall on them.)"
Acherai smiled at Kagain. "You know," he murmured softly. "I had my doubts at first, but they will work out well. I have rarely seen a group of people so thoroughly expendable."
"I do good work, boss."
(*)
The Seven Suns trading coster, with its glittering gilded exterior and the sun motif on its banner, was simple enough to find. Indeed, the only way to miss it would have been to suddenly go blind, as it stood out like a sore thumb compared to its neighbors...or at least a slightly tacky thumb.
"So," Imoen said. "Do we go in through the front door, or...?"
"Child, please. This calls for subtlety. To march in boldly through the front would be certain to alert our targets, whoever they may be, and only harm our efforts to locate this 'Scar's' supposed friend," Jaheira snapped. "You are a petty thief, you should know these things."
"Hey, I am not petty!"
"Actually," Sephiria said slowly, "perhaps the front door is an option. For some of us, anyway."
Jaheira arched an eyebrow. "You suggest a diversion?"
"Yes. Some of us pose as, perhaps...negotiators, here to buy goods? And while they distract the door guards, others may enter clandestinely."
Jaheira nodded, and while she wasn't smiling, that was mostly because she almost never did unless her husband was involved. "Sound plan. Good to see one of you inherited Gorion's good sense."
Imoen elbowed her in the ribs teasingly. "Heeey, when did Seffy learn sneaky? I would have expected you to suggest we kick the wall down and rain justice on them or something."
"Oooh, Minsc likes this plan! Yes, he casts the votes of himself and Boo for the kicking and the justice!"
Sephiria blushed furiously and smack Imoen's elbow away while the smaller girl giggled. "I have had some direct experience, you know. Possibly a bad influence or two on top of it, but one area I cannot fault Acherai on is that a subtle approach can often be successful. He was not intending it as a method to spare innocent lives, perhaps, but that doesn't mean I can't."
"... I thought you said he was a jerk, though?"
Elsewhere...
"Fancy meeting a team like this in the middle of the woods!" The elf said cheerfully, balancing a well-worn bow on the shoulder of his fine leather armor. "My name is Coran. Adventurer of sorts, and wondering if such fine folks as yourselves might be interested in an alliance to get us all quite a bit of gold? I need some additional muscle, you see, and well...who doesn't need money?"
Acherai turned to Shar-Teel, and smiled.
"I will gut you."
"I didn't say a thing, my dear."
"You were thinking it."
Baldur's Gate...
"Oh, the worst. But an awful person may have occasional good ideas," Sephiria said primly.
Dynaheir raised a hand. "I may be a good option to lead the group in the main entry. As a wychlaran, albeit one of low rank, I am considered nobility in my homeland. It gives me a reason to be present few others have, no?"
"And where wise Dynaheir goes, so goes the evil-dispersing wind of Minsc and Boo, dispersing all evil before them. Like wind," Minsc said. Boo kind of chewed on his shirt.
"Of...course. Well, I fear I am not gifted at stealth, so perhaps I should serve as your second bodyguard, lady Dynaheir?" Sephiria suggested.
"Your blade would be welcome indeed, little friend! Minsc has not yet had chance to kick butt beside his newest ally!"
"We are...trying not to do that, noble Minsc," Dynaheir said with a wince.
"Also yes!"
"Imoen, you are our go-to expert on infiltration, as depressing as the notion is," Jaheira said. "Find an entry point. Khalid and I will guard your path."
"What about me?" Xan asked.
As one, the group turned to him.
"... We...thought you left, actually," Sephiria said.
"You kept talking about it," Imoen agreed.
"Well. Yes, but I have nowhere to actually go, as it turns out," Xan admitted. "I will not be welcomed in Evereska with half a report, no matter how obvious it is that I had no hope of succeeding. I need to remain in the Sword Coast and continue to pursue this crisis."
"Oh. Um..." Sephiria said.
"Just watch how things go and intervene when needed," Jaheira said smoothly. It seemed easier than actually trying to get Xan to be sneaky, as he had almost literally not stopped whining since they had met him.
"Are...are you trying to push me into the background...?"
"... ... ... Nooooo," Imoen said. "Now then! I see a house we can use to get onto the roof of the coster, so. Who wants to watch my back while I jimmy the lock? I got a good feeling about this!"
(*)
"So, Coran," Acherai said flatly. "I notice you said that you sought a bounty."
"Indeed, my friend! Fine pay for all."
"And that it was on the way to our destination."
"Convenient and profitable!"
"And that you felt you could probably do it alone, but a group assured adventure and pay for all."
"Right again, good man!"
The wyvern chose the moment to swoop over them, screaming out an odd trilling cry as it flew towards the cave where it made its lair, half a bear clamped in the powerful claws of its legs. Where the other half of the bear might be was something not even Shar-Teel probably wanted to think about.
It didn't take a cartographer to note that the cave it was landing at was also where Coran was leading them.
This was the third wyvern they had seen land in that general area.
"I sense," Acherai said dryly, "that you may have withheld certain crucial details of this bounty."
"I am sure I don't know what you mean."
And that, Acherai thought, is why I should never trust anyone who even slightly reminds me of myself.
(*)
Author's Note: Kind of a short chapter, yes, but I actually couldn't think of a better place to end it. Going on would have just made things all clunky, and there is nothing I love more than a cliffhanger anyway. You know this. I'm a monster.