A/N: Lighter mood now, I guess. For a little bit.

Well, crap.

More revelations from the Solar. On the plus side, Imoen was doing a lot better. I was still trying to process everything, lying on the hard yet strangely organic ground and staring at the mesmeric, odd sky. I wondered, really, if not for Gorion and the monks and Candlekeep, would I have been like Sarevok? Would Sarevok have been like me?

I sighed and decided that life was a hell of a lot simpler when Irenicus was the be all and the end all. I mean, none of this fate crap, no city saving, nothing like that. Just try to get Imoen back, our souls back. Help folks out if I could. No hiding on some turd-filled corner of the Abyss, no getting jerked around by demigods.

I sighed again. Maybe knowing myself wasn't such a good thing after all. I felt hands under my head, lifting me onto something. I looked up at a concerned Aerie.

"Are you okay, m'love?"

"Yeah, I guess. Just thinking."

She stroked my hair gently. She was happy enough, I guess. If exhausted, dirty, and a little hurt. I closed my eyes, tried to relax and ignore the pain.

"Still lazing around, you filthy jaluk? Or were you distracted by your wounded dove?"

"B-b-back off, you slutty asp."

Everyone looked over, including a fairly green-looking Imoen. The poison was working her over still, but at least her stomach wound was looking a lot better. I cracked one eye open, looked up at the drow.

"Piss off, Viconia. Taking five's not gonna kill me."

"The fates of others may hang in the balance, though."

"I know, Jaheira. But rushing into battle mangled and tired isn't going to help anyone, least of all us."

"True enough, dear."

Aerie scowled a bit, I'm sure. My eyes were closed, but I'm sure the rivalry between the two was heating up. I felt her tense a bit, and stroke my cheek, and relax a bit. She hummed as everyone poked around the Abyssal Cottage. Don't look at me like that, what else can I call it? Hell, the Silvershield Estate was bigger than this place. Minsc poked the floor with his axe.

"Friend, Boo does not think this place to be terribly safe. All sorts of strange and evil things may go bump in the night."

I groaned. Aerie's lap was warm and comfortable. Really, all I needed was a blanket and I was good to go. Well, a blanket and some chow.

"CESPENAR!"

The little imp phased into existence off to my left. I propped myself up on my elbows and tried to state down the imp. Lathander, he had those weird, spidery eyes. Strange-ass manservant. Well, then again, this was hell.

"Cespenar, is this place safe?"

"Oh yes, master! Safe as safe can be!"

"Uhhh...yeah. Nothing's gonna eat me while I'm sleeping?"

"No! Never!"

Made sense, I guess. Imoen had slept here alone for a night, and she was fine. Well, in that some unspeakable evil hadn't dragged her off to consume her.

"Umm, yeah. That's all. You can go."

"Oh! Oh! Master! I forgots to tell you, your planar neighbors left you housewarming gifts!"

"Lathander! Can they get in?"

"Oh, no no noes! I was outs doing me some errands, and I saws them..."

"Ohhh...kaaay. What did I get, from who?"

"Let's sees!"

Cespenar turned his back to us, doing something I'd really rather not contemplate. Everyone braced themselves for demons and havoc. Imoen gritted her teeth and nocked her bow. I reached for my flail.

"Well, Sess'innek gives you this fruitbasket...I don't even knows what theys are..."

True enough, there appeared a basket of various unidentifiable fruit goods near the entrance to the Cottage.

"The Great Mother, Princess of Beholders, Matriarch of Eyes, sends potpourri made of particularly smalls and cute animals. Strange, that. Beholders don't have no noses."

There it was, in a small and tasteful dish.

"Takhisis, Dark Queen of Krynn, offers you a small keg of beer brewed by the finest and most evil clericses in her world on behalf of the Dark Gods of Krynn. She always was a little strange."

Sarevok poked the dish of potpourri.

"It appears safe, brother."

"That's good, I suppose."

"However unexpected the friendliness is, you MUST send them thank you notes less you suffer the dire and horrible consequences of...godly rudeness."

He stared at me intently. He was quite serious about it. I suppose my planar neighbors wanted to curry favor with the person who might be the new local god of murder. Nice of them. I lay back down, closed my eyes. I needed to sleep. I couldn't help but wonder, though. It might have been me experimentally poking dishes of cremated bunnies.

"Everyone, let's try to get some rest before we go try taking on another Bhaalspawn.Tomorrow, we go try to deal with Yaga Shura, giants and all that crap. Also, remind me to write some thank you notes."

Right about then, I passed out in Aerie's lap.

I dreamed. I dreamed of a horrible battle, stuff I couldn't really remember. All I remembered of the dream was that there was a battle, and above it rose a mailed fist on a blue background.

I started awake, found myself still in Aerie's lap. She leaned on a mound of gear, dozing. Jaheira had slung one of my arms over her, curled up against Aerie. Sarevok and Viconia cuddled close, as did -rather tellingly, as I hadn't suspected it in the least- Minsc, Boo and Imoen.

It made me smile. We had just torn down a tyrant, and it was good to see everyone looking so peaceful without their armor and their weapons. I squeezed Jaheira, eliciting a contented sight from her, and lay back down.

I tried to dream of Candlekeep, but nothing more came that night.