A/N: Thanks for all the reviews. Really appreciate it, keep them coming. Reklar, I'd really appreciate you tanking through Bar Talk for one big review. Hell I'd appreciate it from anybody. Also, I have the story arc fairly set form here on in...it's just a matter of mustering the muse to fill in the gaps. Again, many thanks for reading and reviewing.

Well, crap.

Minsc crawled up the stairs, peeking over the top. We were panting, having fought our way up the tower as quietly as we could. It hadn't worked. Gromnir knew we were coming. I did my best to channel Lathander's mercy through Sarevok, forcing his wounds closed. Viconia dabbed blood off his bald head gently. He didn't make a sound, just barred his teeth despite the bad burns on his chest. Metal armor didn't exactly protect too good against heat.

He nodded. I knew he was good to go. He did have a chunk of my soul, after all. Everyone was running on fumes at this point- we were low on bandages, low on spells, exhausted, beaten and bruised. But we had to do this. Every instant we waited meant more people died.

Just a little further, I mouthed silently to Aerie. She was taking this worst of all, I think. Everyone but her was an experienced campaigner. I remember, when we first rescued her, she was still...well, out of shape. Now, well...she caught me eyeing taut legs through slits in her robe. She blushed, but she was appreciative none the less. I leaned back against the stairwell wall as Jaheira concentrated on the trail of bodies we left. It was a bloody mess, I suppose. She didn't seem to fazed. We listened to Gromnir yell at someone. Minsc watched, Crom Faeyr and Storm Star in hand. The line of his jaw tensed. He hated stealth, but I guess he realized that it was necessary. We had heard from a girl named Asmay that she had seen Melissan being dragged upstairs by Gromnir's thugs. We couldn't risk the life of a fiftysomething woman with a careless charge.

He slunk back into the shadows, gestured rapidly. Three people. Two bad guys. Quiet kills. Spread out. He reached into his boot, pulled a heavy dagger. It was something he used more often for cleaning rabbits than battle. He pressed himself up against the wall, bulk apparent but slightly more concealed.Viconia fell in beside him. Her mace hung on her belt, oddly enough. I watched as their sat there tensely coiled. Suddenly, they struck like snakes.

A young man with a spear led the way down the stairwell. Minsc was a blur as he reached out, slapped a hand over his mouth and slit his throat. Hell, the ranger almost severed the guy's head. The body was tossed over a rail, landed with a thud. Viconia was in motion before Minsc was done, leaping forwards and shoving a surprised Melissan aside. Sliding around the side of the other guard, she slipped under his armpit and behind him. There was only a grunt and a loud snapping noise as her arms curled around his neck and twisted it awkwardly. The second body dropped. I had the presence of mind -barely- to clamp a hand over Melissan's mouth and stifled any noise she might have tried to make. I stood stock still, and so did she. She caught sight of us, nodded. I let her go, and she took off down the stairs. I led the charge up the stairs, shield up.

Gromnir was waiting. I guess he heard us coming, because I walked right into an arrow. Missed my shield somehow, found a kink in my armor, lodged itself between two of my ribs. Stung like a bitch, but I kept going. Minsc and Viconia were right behind me, hot on my heels. Gromnir barked orders before advancing himself.

Lathander, he was ugly.

I could feel the blood begin to trickle, but I had definitely been wounded worse. Sarevok had the Silver Sword now and it gleamed with unholy light as he wielded it. Suddenly, there was a rush of fire around us, a flaring pain.

"Mages! Get the mages!" I choked. Gromnir picked me out pretty quickly. Maybe it was the order yelling. At any rate, he advanced on me with flails high. He leapt into the air, and I feinted left and rolled right. Well, not so much feinted as felt the arrow digging into my left side and rolled right before I knew what I was doing. The floor caved and cracked where I had been standing seconds before as Gromnir slammed his weapons halfway through the floor. I swung the flail low, heard a satisfying crunch as it connected to the underside of his forearm. Gromnir howled with pain, hefted his other weapon out of the ground, and began circling me.

Around us, I could tell that the battle raged. Dim shapes fluttered in the background as we sized each other up, distant cries of pain barely audible. It was just me and him, it seemed. He growled, and went berserk, showering my shield with blows. I could see the enchanted steel begin to warp and give way as I stumbled backwards under the furious assault. Finally, I was against a wall. My blood churned and pumped. I fought the Slayer within me, and tried to focus. Keeping the panic down was the most important thing at the moment.

I peered over my shield, seeing sparks fly as Gromnir raged. His broken arm hung uselessly at an odd angle. I braced against the stonework, shoved the twisted metal against him. He fell back stumbling and I took advantage of the moment. The flail caught him in the ribs as I swept it up from my side. He stumbled, and I pressed the attack. The flail came down onto his collarbone, and he fell to his knees. Even then, he was defiant. I swept his ugly head from his shoulders with one last blow. Looking up, I saw Sarevok drive his weapon into the guts of a prone mage. It was over.

"Ugh, Lathander. This shield is SCRAP. I paid so much for her!" I moaned. I fell to my knees, and felt the pain overcome the surge of adrenaline. Numb hands pawed at the arrow's shaft. I tried to breathe, but it was hard. I knew the wound wasn't terribly serious like Imoen's, but together with the burns, and the other wounds...well, I needed help. I heard gasps above me. Then, Aerie was above me. A cascade of gold surrounded my head, and I had a sudden urge to try and touch the halo surrounding her. There was no halo, I realized, just her hair. I still decided I wanted to touch it anyways and commanded my body to respond.

It didn't, which was a little worrying.

"Hold still, man!"

Jaheira was holding me down. Aerie wept a little, stifling sobs as she pushed the armor away from the injury. She stared at the wound, reached, retracted her arm. She reached again, trying to decide what to do. The druid grumbled, reached down.

"Here, let me do it."

"No!"

I felt the arrowhead scrape against a rib. I sucked in a painful breath. Each had a hand on the shaft, fighting each other.

"FortheloveofTormandallthat'sholy, stop!"

Jaheira frowned, let go. Aerie eased the arrow out of me gently, closed the wound as best she could as Jaheira walked away and tended to Minsc. I guess she felt rejected or something. The world seem to stretch, fall away. At first, I thought I was passing out.

Then I saw the familiar demonic statues and green skies. Ah, hell.