General disclaimer: I own nothing, even Maiyn generally decides her own path.

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Sarevok's Acolytes

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The group made their way along the streets, the fog hanging in the air in the early morning light as they hastened towards their destination. Despite the hour, the building they arrived at was bustling with activity, and the companions cautiously approached the entrance. A few hushed words were exchanged, then a chorus of nods. Imoen would lead the way in, scouting ahead with the others only following when it was safe to do so. That way, they'd proceed as far as they could without resorting to violence.

Getting into the building proved easy; a mass of merchants were buzzing around and there seemed to be more than a hint of anxiety hanging in the air. Many of the traders looked worried as they milled around, vehemently discussing some of the latest developments of the consortium. Rich tapestries hung from the deep blue walls, and silk drapes bordered small alcoves that homed marble statues and expensive looking vases. A balcony for a higher level was above them, the sides of it decorated with extensive cornicing depicting the symbol of Waukeen - the goddess's head lovingly moulded onto the side of a golden tinted coin.

Imoen left the others to find out what information they could from eavesdropping on conversations as she calmly climbed the stairs. Fewer merchants were here, and a more active guard seemed to be present. One spotted her immediately and began heading over; Imoen braced herself, remembering the letters they'd found to date. One had mentioned Sarevok returning from Ordulin, the capital city of Sembia - that was what she needed to remember.

"Welcome to the Iron Throne Citadel," he announced, regarding her with some suspicion. "Could you please state what business brings you here?"

Imoen met his gaze with confidence, and she issued a charming smile. "My companions and I have business with your leaders. They are waiting downstairs for me, as we have just arrived from Sembia, and we are quite weary."

The guard frowned slightly, but Imoen's look was unwavering. "That's strange," he said. "We've not been told about you. But no matter, you may go upstairs." He gave Imoen a quick bow, and retreated to deal with some arguing visitors.

The thief sighed inwardly with relief, having prepared herself for slightly more extensive questioning. She looked around as she headed to the next flight of stairs, noting that this level was the balcony she'd noticed from the ground floor. Expensive looking paintings adorned the marble walls, which shone in the soft light almost as much as the polished floor, but there was little in the way of furnishing.

A soft red carpet covered the stairs to the next level and Imoen emerged into a large banqueting hall. Two huge, heavy oak tables ran down either side of the room, each homing at least two dozen chairs. Large candelabras sat at regular intervals on the surfaces, their bronze hues sparkling to match the several sconces hanging from the whitewashed stone walls. Tapestries of famous merchants gazed down on the surroundings, their stern features seeming to watch Imoen's progression.

"You there! What are you doing here?"

Imoen started slightly as she saw the guard scurrying over towards her. Admittedly, very few people had made it up this far; a few of the richer looking merchants had been granted access, as well as a few haughty looking robed officials. Imoen turned on her smile, and repeated her tale about coming from Sembia. The guard just nodded this time, relaxing visibly at her seemingly sound story.

"Okay, sorry for troubling you," he said. "Sarevok's acolytes are on the fifth floor, but better you than me working with them. That crowd can be damn right creepy some days." He shuddered as he finished, and Imoen resisted a chuckle.

"Creepy are they?" she asked, forcing herself to use a slightly more stern look. "I'll be sure to pass that on..."

The guard's eyes opened wider in horror, and he hastily backed away from the thief. "I... I spoke out of turn!" He bowed formally. "My apologies," he muttered as he rushed off. Imoen giggled quietly to herself and wandered into the hall, admiring the silverware set out for an impending feast. It was only when she got close that she saw the doorway leading into another room. She quietly slid through, into a small library with one large window that let in a fair bit of light; none of the other rooms had any windows adorning them, relying only on artificial lighting which gave everything a slightly unnatural glow.

"Ah, hello."

Imoen spun around to see a young man addressing her. He smiled politely, and looked back to the paperwork he held in his arms as he spoke.

"You must be the city negotiator? Pleasure to meet you... Emissary Tar?"

Imoen nodded and curtsied slightly, looking awkward in her cloak.

"My name is Destus Gurn," he went on, not even noticing, "the Assistant Chief Accountant for the Iron Throne operations on the Sword Coast. I assume you have a copy of the agenda?"

"Er..."

"Ah, here, have this," he said simply, thrusting a piece of paper to Imoen. "Please proceed upstairs to the meeting."

Imoen nodded and thanked him, hastily retreating from his office. She studied the paper as she lazily headed towards the stairs; apparently it was a meeting designed to allow the Iron Throne an audience with the representatives of the Grand Dukes of Baldur's Gate regarding the iron prices, and to discuss the output of the new mines the business had acquired. Emissary Tar was to be the official representative of the city, discussing matters with several members of the citadel - Zhalimar Cloudwulfe the implied leader of the acolytes, Aasim, Diyab, Naaman, Alai and Gardush the others.

Imoen decided to return to the others to let them know what she'd found out. She hastily made her way back down and showed Jaheira and Khalid the agenda she'd been given, filling them in on what she'd been told. They in return told her that the main cause of the trader's fears seemed to be from an unsettling feeling of people acting suspiciously, and not seeming to be themselves. Imoen gasped as they huddled together, whispering their findings.

"More doppelgangers?"

"Well, we assumed they came from here in the first place, so it would make sense," replied Jaheira.

"I th-think we should head upstairs t-to see if we can learn more of this m-meeting," said Khalid. The others agreed, and they quickly made their way back up to the hall, the guards ignoring them when they noticed Imoen's presence, assuming she was merely fetching her companions.

Imoen heard Yeslick's gasp as they entered the feasting room and she grinned at him mischievously. He scowled almost immediately, and returned to his steely glare at the opulent surroundings. Imoen decided against making a quick quip at his expense, noticing a rather large woman approach them.

"At last!" she exclaimed. "Someone who looks as though they may be some assistance! The assorted boobs and dimwits around here have been very little help!"

Unfortunately for the woman, she had accosted Kivan, who was already looking uncomfortable to the extreme with his surroundings. He gave the woman an indifferent look, and replied with complete seriousness.

"I am afraid you have mistaken us - I am Dimwit, and this is my good friend Boob." He pointed to his fellow ranger, Minsc. "Behind me you'll find Brainless, and Moron. How do you do?"

Imoen started giggling uncontrollably while Khalid grinned, and Jaheira gasped at the normally quiet elf. He offered a slight shrug, and retreated to the other side of the group, letting someone else deal with the offending woman.

"My apologies," she said, looking slightly taken aback. "I have a tendency to come across a bit gruff. It comes across with the title of Chief Negotiator for the Grand Dukes I am afraid. Now please - if we could start over! I am looking for the stairs to the fifth floor. It seems as though I have lost them entirely."

Khalid politely pointed out the staircase to the woman, and she thanked him profusely as she waddled off. Imoen had finally managed to stop her giggling fit, and nudged Jaheira, distracting the druid long enough for her to stop giving Kivan the disapproving look he'd been subjected to.

"That must be Emissary Tar!" whispered the thief. "Shall we follow her?"

-----------------------

Coran and Maiyn decided to make the most of the sunshine that day, and they headed to the west of the city, finding a gardened park by the Hall of Wonders. Despite its smallness, it reminded Maiyn of Candlekeep; the same flowers seemed to thrive in it, reminding her of the scents she'd once been so familiar with, borders of flowers surrounding the small well tended lawn. Trees and bushes lined the edge, allowing some calm away from the busier roads and thoroughfares and only a few others were enjoying the quiet space, some reading, others chatting quietly.

The two elves watched Namara crawl around, examining the grass and the daisies, occasionally stopping her from trying to eat anything that came within her grasp. The conversation had been light and frivolous, teasing and laughing as they relaxed as best as they could, knowing their companions and friends were undertaking the most important mission to date without them. Maiyn felt pangs of guilt, and also a sense of sadness that she was missing out on the developments. She trusted them to do a sound job though, and had every faith in their capabilities, but she didn't like the feeling inside that was telling her she was a coward; shirking her duties.

She sighed slightly, gazing absently at Namara. Coran understood the sigh, and gently squeezed her hand. She smiled her thanks to him, and set about detangling Namara from a viney plant she'd crawled too close to.

"You have never asked, but do you want to know about Briel?" He'd settled back as he watched the two females fight the plant with some amusement. Maiyn paused.

"If you do not mind the telling," she replied at length.

"I was broke then," he began, quietly, "and had to resort to cutting purses at the market square - the most miserable kind of thievery if you ask me. So I was meddling in the crowds, keeping my eyes open for a well-to-do merchant, and the City Watchers..." Coran sat up, helping Maiyn with the remaining tendrils that Namara had managed to get caught around her arms. "You know how in the buzz and swirl of the crowd, a single creature or object suddenly catch your attention and you focus on them, as if nothing else exists? I saw Briel this way - a woman in long robes, with her head and face draped by a silken shawl, so that only her eyes were visible."

"Your imagination, however, quickly added details..." remarked Maiyn dryly.

"It is almost scary how well you know me," he grinned, placing Namara down on the grass so she was facing away from any other problematic plants. "Brielbara stood in front of the flower merchant and looked at the blooms for a while. And I looked at her... then she startled and hurried away. Something in this startle endeared her to me. I did not have the time to light-finger a bud, and only enough money to buy a single red flower. I did, and ran after her."

Maiyn sat quietly, watching as he stared off into the distance, recalling the memory.

"When I offered her the flower, there was surprise and gratitude in her eyes, but she shook her head and told me that she was married. 'Well,' I replied, 'so much the better. I am for making you happy, and your husband to take care of all your other needs.'" Coran looked back to the ranger, and noticed her tensing slightly. He was aware of her views on his adulterous actions, and appreciated her having the patience to listen to him despite them.

"The next thing I knew," he continued, "I was standing in the middle of the busy street in Baldur's Gate, hugging a strange woman who sobbed into my shoulder. In a moment she whipped her tears away and straightened. You met Yago... he was quite apt at devouring the very last shred of happiness from his wife. Brielbara was determined to snatch out of his jaws whatever she could. Rarely have I met woman who plunged into an affair with such decisiveness and passion.

"After a while, being fed up with seeing bruises all over Brielbara's body and listening to what her husband did to her, I suggested to spirit her away from Yago. At first she was quite fascinated by the prospect, but when she understood that I would neither stay with her long after our escape, nor would settle down in a remote corner of the world, she told me that a human's life is too short to make new starts. A good doze of despair in the gaiety of our meetings finally wore me down, and I left."

"So, it was maybe the memory of happiness which prompted her to keep Namara," noted Maiyn, watching the child as she tried to catch a butterfly as it flitted past.

"And that in turn made Yago try to kill her..." sighed Coran. "So that even past joy tuned into ashes for Brielbara. You know, I am glad that we have gotten rid of this man."

"I am also," said Maiyn quietly.

Coran looked at her inquisitively. "You sound hurt."

Maiyn shrugged slightly. "I sound jealous," she admitted.

"Even now I have told you what happened?"

The ranger shook her head slowly. "Not as much, no. But..." She sighed. "No, nothing. This is not the time for sadness and sorrow."

Coran nodded his agreement, and pulled Maiyn into his arms, nestling her in his embrace fondly. He wanted to be honest with her as much as he could, it was important to him to let her know about his past to save her from having to make assumptions that could be wrong or misleading. He kissed her hair lightly, feeling her sigh in his hold. He didn't want to lose her - not now.

-----------------------

The group had followed the Emissary up one flight of stairs to an almost deserted floor. Several small, round tables were dotted around and a large counter was set before a wide range of drinks - a dour looking man tending it as the barman. Two high arched doorways seemed to lead into large libraries, shelves of books visible in between the large stained glass windows.

Again, Imoen was signalled to scout ahead, to see if she could get close enough to the meeting to listen in on the events without being detected. Only a few other merchants were around them, none of them paying much attention to the group as they sat down at one of the tables. Jaheira overheard two of the closer traders discussing some other mercenaries that had arrived at the building some weeks before, obviously reminded about the tale by the presence of the companions.

They described the rage that had been incited when they'd reported to the leaders about their failure to achieve their task, and how the band had been chased through the building and killed for their incompetence, merchants fleeing to avoid being caught in the affray. The merchants shuddered, glanced quickly at the druid and left towards the stairs hurriedly.

Jaheira became slightly concerned.

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Imoen skulked up the stairs quietly, surprised by the lack of guard presence somewhat. She could hear voices as she neared the top of the flight and she paused, listening to the emissary drone on about the impact of the iron crisis on the city's defences and army while several others interjected occasionally with additional information or other objective views. The voices stopped suddenly, and an almost anguished cry seemed to come from the diplomat, then silence fell.

She decided to move ahead a bit more to try and catch a glimpse of what was going on, and to see if there was any way she could move into the room without being seen. Quietly she reached the landing, and cautiously peered around the corner into a large, airy room, filled with desks and cabinets full of paperwork. Several figures were standing around Emissary Tar; the others she presumed were the people mentioned on the agenda. One of them was an exceptionally tall man, dressed in a black tunic with a golden and green trim. He had a cold expression on his face, and his hands were tightly clenching an ornately designed bow. He was looking straight at the thief.

"Fear my wrath!" he shouted, pointing at Imoen. "For it is great indeed!"

His companions followed his gaze, and tensed as they realised the presence of the interloper. Two of the others readied expensive looking maces, while one of the more armoured figures drew a large jewelled sword from its sheath. Two robed figures were gripping their carved staves tightly, and Imoen was pretty sure they'd already began murmuring in preparation of spellcasting. A couple of others, Imoen assumed them to be the merchants in attendance, were rapidly withdrawing from the scene, retreating hurriedly to the staircase at the other side of the room.

"Who dares intrude upon our negotiations?" continued the man. Imoen assumed him to be the one known as Zhalimar Cloudwulfe, the leader of the group.

"I am Imoen," she said, bravely stepping out to face them. "I wanted to ask you a few questions."

"Imoen, you say?" replied Zhalimar thoughtfully. "Ah yes, Sarevok mentioned you... companion to Maiyn, are you not? So, she may very well be in our building, sending her lackey ahead to face our ire! We were also warned of your meddling... meddling which will stop here however."

"Oh really?" asked Imoen disbelievingly. She wondered where her confidence was coming from, but took full advantage of it. "No one else has managed to stop us."

"Those before us were fools, as you are!" the man hissed furiously. "Those before us were weak, as you are! Those before us were not Zhalimar, Diyab, Naaman, Gardush, Aasim and Alai! Those before us are now dead, as you will be. So has been decreed, so it shall be done." Zhalimar smiled cruelly as his tone became almost entranced. "So orders Sarevok!"

With a wave of his hand his companions moved to attack and Emissary Tar shifted shape suddenly, into the familiar form of a shapeshifter. Imoen gasped and noticed the corpse of the real emissary lying prone on the ground. She turned; darting back down to her companions, hearing the arrow strike the wall behind where she had just been standing, and hearing the raised chanting of the mages and priests as they raised their defences.

Her companions were ready as she flew down the stairs, having heard the roar of the charge and Imoen darted behind the fighters, taking up her place beside Dynaheir. The barman screamed in terror, and ran for the stairs with the other merchants, leaving the companions alone to face the advancing acolytes of Sarevok. Dynaheir and Xan mirrored while Kivan and Imoen readied their bows; Jaheira took up a stance ready to call on her druid spells, her eyes fixed firmly on the staircase for any movement. Minsc, Khalid and Yeslick were tense, standing at the front of the group, ready for the rush.

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Maiyn lazily wandered around the Hall of Wonders looking at the exhibits. She'd managed to get rid of the infuriating guide who had offered to show her around, and was now enjoying the peacefulness of her own company - with Coran and Namara lingering slightly further back as the fighter entertained his daughter by making strange faces in the reflection of the glass. It was getting late and the most of the visitors were leaving the building, but Maiyn lingered a little longer than them, climbing up the stairs to look at some of the fabled exhibits that were said to have belonged to the explorer, Balduran, from whom Baldur's Gate was named after. Coran had dragged her to the Hall in a desperate attempt to take her mind off her companions, and to prevent her from subconsciously drifting closer and closer to the Iron Throne building as they walked around the city.

She silently glided along the corridor, briefly looking at the various pieces of armour people had dug up, and the cup Balduran was said to have drunk from when he was a child, without taking much of it in. Her mind was still preoccupied, and in reality she just wanted to go back to the inn to find her companions safe and well.

She stopped, preparing to turn around and find Coran so they could leave when a movement ahead of her caught her attention. She frowned slightly and wandered over towards it, her movements soundless and stealthy. As she got closer, she could make out a small figure trying to pick a lock on one of the display cases, oblivious to the presence of the ranger.

Maiyn coughed quietly, making the young female halfling jump and spin around in fright, her eyes wide with shock.

"Okay, I guess I'm caught," she said with a resigned sigh, her shoulder slumping. "It's a fair... wait! Ya ain't a guard, are ya?"

Maiyn regarded her with amusement and shook her head. "One shout, though, and the guard could be here."

The halfling's eyes narrowed. "What d'ya want then? I didn't hear ya coming up so I guess you're looking for loot too? What say we help each other out - ya keep watch for me, an' I'll keep watch for you?"

A small laugh made them both turn quickly to see Coran lurking in the shadows, watching the exchange. Maiyn grinned to him and turned back to the halfling.

"I'm not here to steal anything, thank you very much," she said sternly, "and aren't you a bit young to be caught and thrown in jail?"

The halfling shrugged. "Gotta make a coin however I can," she said. "Otherwise I'd starve, heh."

"You're stealing to live?" Maiyn asked.

"Well, I guess, sort of."

Maiyn frowned slightly. Something about the young halfling reminded her dearly of Imoen, and she felt a cold chill run up her spine as she remembered the danger her sister was in. "It's not life for someone so young to lead," she said quickly. "You could join us? We are... mercenaries of a sort. My companions are performing a part of our mission just now while we... while we, erm, look after Coran's child. You'd be welcome to join our group if you're capable."

The thief's eyes widened again, and she looked at Maiyn with surprise. "Really? You'd let me join? You're not going to tell the guard about me?"

"Really," Maiyn assured her. "I'm Maiyn, and this is one of my companions, Coran. And that's his baby, Namara, but she doesn't generally travel with us."

"Maiyn? I've seen your name on bounty notices and heard tales about the stuff you've done!" squealed the girl. "I'm Alora! I'm so excited to be joining with ya!"

Maiyn grinned. "Well, I think we should be heading back to our inn now," she said softly, hearing the faint sounds of people - probably guards - approaching to ensure the museum was empty for the evening. "Come with us then, and tell us about yourself as we go. You will meet the others later."

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The fireball exploded at the foot of the stairs, the fighters only just managing to dive for cover in time. In the group's benefit, it incinerated the advancing doppelganger but it also gave the attackers plenty of time to descend and get into comfortable positions before the group had reorganised themselves. The mages were already beginning follow up spells while their fighters advanced towards the group's warriors, and Dynaheir and Xan began their own frantic conjurations.

Yeslick offered a quick prayer to Clangeddin as he launched himself at his nearest foe, and the companions were briefly engulfed in a faint white glow as the God blessed them with the power of a chant. Minsc's familiar roar echoed around the room as he entered his berserker rage, immediately facing off against the fighter with the jewelled sword, a ferocious display of swordplay taking place.

Khalid and Jaheira stood together as they faced off another opponent, a warrior cleric adorned with the symbol of Cyric, who muttered a few words to his evil deity, causing his mace to glow with a sickly yellow colour.

Xan's spell flew through the air, hitting Zhalimar firmly where it exploded into a shower of faint green sparks. A darkness fell over his eyes, the spell causing him to become temporarily blind and putting an end to his deadly aim with his bow, which he had been focussing on Kivan. Only the elf's natural dexterity had helped him avoid being hit by the arrows, but he wasn't so lucky when the other opposing cleric prayed for a flamestrike, and a pillar of flames engulfed the ranger, causing him to suffer from severe burns as he rolled free.

Imoen gasped at the power on display from the opponents, but had to duck quickly to avoid an acid arrow aimed at her from one of their mages. The other mage had finished his own spell, a chromatic orb spinning through the air towards Minsc, exploding on impact and causing a slight injury. Whatever other enchantment it contained was wasted as Minsc's rage carried him on, unaware that the spell had even taken place.

Dynaheir's magic missiles hit the opposing mage soon after, instantly removing his mirrors, and Yeslick howled as he dealt a devastating blow to the man's torso, instantly killing him. With a snarl, the dwarf immediately leapt around, running towards their other spellcaster, and deftly avoiding the attempted trip by one of the other enemies. Before he could get near though, the mage had called up a magic door, and stepped through it into invisibility. Yeslick cursed loudly, and turned around to take on one of the clerics.

Kivan, having beaten out the last of the flames, was raining down arrow upon arrow at Zhalimar, injuring his arm badly with a well placed shot. The darkness lifted from the fighter's eyes, and he dropped his bow with a bellow, tearing a vicious looking halberd from his back. He charged towards Kivan, who readied his own spear in preparation for the fracas.

Khalid and Jaheira managed to take down their target eventually, and they immediately split up to help Minsc and Yeslick with their targets. Imoen noticed a faint shimmering off to one side, and she nervously began mumbling the words to her latest spell, praying that she wouldn't mess up the casting. Xan had finished another spell, and suddenly the party felt themselves quickening up, their actions becoming faster while staying fluid.

Dynaheir was close behind with her own incantation, sending forth a flurry of minute meteors racing towards Minsc's opponent, causing him to stagger slightly. In his moments of hesitation, Khalid and Minsc's blows managed to find the weaknesses in his armour, and end his life abruptly.

The remaining enemy mage became fully visible as his own spell went off, and a noxious, billowing cloud quickly filled the room, causing both the companions and the enemy alike to choke in the poisonous fumes. Imoen uttered the final words of her spell, and stretched her arms out in front of her, joining her thumbs and watching the flames flicker along her fingertips before they burst forth, scorching the man. She quickly whipped out a few arrows, peppering her foe with careful aim, slaying him with a final hit to the neck.

Yeslick and Jaheira watched their own opponent fall to the ground, clutching his throat as he suffocated in the cloud, and they too began to feel the ill effects of the spell.

"We need to get out of here!" shouted the druid, pointing to the stairs. Yeslick and Khalid darted up; Xan, Dynaheir and Imoen close behind. Kivan was still caught up in the melee with Zhalimar though, and Minsc's berserking caused him to ignore the half-elf's shouts. With a sigh she moved to follow the Rashemeni into the fight, but the cloud proved too strong, and she reluctantly retreated, dashing up the stairs shortly before the fumes reached her head and she fainted into her husband's arms.

Kivan staggered slightly as he fought to control himself - Zhalimar seemed completely unaffected by the intoxicating effects of the fog, and his blows remained heavy and wild. The ranger felt his strength give way beneath him as he fell to his knees, watching the man smile cruelly as he raised his halberd and gave Kivan an almighty blow to the side of the head, knocking him instantly unconscious.

Minsc witnessed the act as he approached, and he roared with fury as he drove his sword into the side of the man, crushing the armour slightly but failing to cause any real damage. Zhalimar merely laughed at his attempts, parrying the next few lunges with his weapon, waiting for the fumes to take a hold of Minsc too.

Sure enough, the berserker faltered slightly, falling as Zhalimar's halberd slammed into his leg, slicing it badly. Sarevok's acolyte laughed slightly as he slowly approached Minsc, raising his halberd to strike the killing blow, when a call distracted him.

He looked up to see the young thief standing at the foot of the stairs, a fierce determination in her eyes as she levelled her arrow at him. He laughed even harder as he saw her face redden as the gases filled her lungs, but her aim was unwavering, and a soft smile crossed her lips as she pulled back her string.

"Goodbye," she said confidently, letting her missile fly true through the air, striking Zhalimar forcefully in the eye, a faint glow sparking from it as it burst into flame within his skull.

As Imoen passed out she congratulated her foresight for keeping some of the kobold's fire arrows for special occasions.

-----------------------

Jaheira sat beside Imoen until she awoke. Kivan and Minsc had recovered from the effects of the poison much quicker than the young thief due to their hardiness, and in the time spent waiting for Imoen to regain consciousness they'd perked up quite significantly.

Khalid and Yeslick had gone back upstairs with Dynaheir and Xan in tow to check the other rooms. They found several bedrooms, and searched the chests for any evidence on the Iron Throne's plans, finding little. The last room they arrived at was locked, but the combined forces of the fighters managed to force it open quite easily, and within, they found a rather worried looking man. He stood by a large, ornately carved desk, surrounded by tomes of books. It seemed to be the main study for the Iron Throne officials.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded of them. "Get out of this building before I call the guards!"

"I suggest you answer our questions," replied Khalid sternly, his stammer almost non-existent as he asserted himself.

"You're here to kill me, aren't you?" gasped the man. "Do you know who I am? I am Thaldorn! One of the leaders of the Iron Throne!"

"Ah," replied Khalid with a smile. "Where are the other leaders?"

Thaldorn stared at him. "The other leaders? Brunos and Rieltar are at Candlekeep, attending business with some benefactors from the south, though why this is any of your business-"

"We be needin' evidence!" interrupted Yeslick gruffly.

"Evidence?" Thaldorn looked confused.

"Aye, evidence o' yer involvement wi' the banditry and iron shortage!"

Thaldorn took on a slightly panicked expression. "You can find everything you need with Rieltar! He's the true leader of the operation; he always carries everything with him!"

The companions looked at each other briefly. They had no reason to suspect Thaldorn of lying, and he began begging for his life, suggesting that any evidence he did have, he would have gladly handed over.

"Get out," said Khalid simply, watching the man scuttle past. With a sigh, the half-elf moved to start looking through the drawers of the desk while Yeslick began rifling through the shelves.

-----------------------

None of them tried to stop the rather terrified looking man as he ran past them. Jaheira was administering an elixir to Imoen to help cleanse the poison fully from her system, while Kivan and Minsc looked through the belongings on their fallen opponents.

"My head hurts," whimpered Imoen.

"It will pass," Jaheira said softly. "You were all lucky that it was a cloud of gas; when you each fell unconscious, you were beneath the poisonous effects. Had they still reached you, you may all have been dead by now."

Imoen shuddered slightly, remembering both the cloud and the flamestrike. Their opponents had been fierce, and highly skilled. To think of them as mere acolytes of Sarevok terrified her. She dreaded to think of the power he himself had...

Footsteps signalled the return of their other companions, the mages immediately called over by Kivan who had detected hints of magic on some of the equipment. Minsc had found two letters on the body of Zhalimar, which he handed over to Imoen and Jaheira.

Father,

I received your letter and I can assure you that the mercenaries led by Maiyn will no longer bother our operations. I have dealt with them personally. Before dying they were most forthcoming with their revelations - it was as you surmised; they were agents of the Zhentarim.

I am also writing to tell you that I cannot attend the meeting at Candlekeep. Some problems here have arisen with the Chill and the Black Talons - they have had troubles working with each other, and I am needed here to smooth over and dissensions.

I am sorry I will not be at your side.

Sarevok

Imoen arched an eyebrow at Khalid and Jaheira when they also finished reading it. "He's letting them think we're working with the Zhents?"

Jaheira sighed. "Well, Maiyn has insisted on keeping Zhent company on occasion," she remarked, referring to Xzar and Montaron. "It would not be a foolish suspicion to have, but I am more concerned by his implication that he has already dealt with us when we have not yet encountered him."

Khalid nodded his agreement. "They c-can not even have mistaken others f-for our group; their b-bounty notices for Maiyn have d-displayed that they would recognise h-her instantly."

Imoen nodded and unrolled the other letter. It was slightly tattered around the edges, as if it had seen a harder journey reaching its destination.

Rieltar,

My superiors are intrigued by your proposal. I would like to discuss it further but not through correspondence such as this.

The Harpers and Zhents have been very active in this region of late; it would be very unfortunate if they tried to disrupt an alliance between our two organisations. If yourself, Bruno and Thaldorn were to meet with us in the safety of Candlekeep, my superiors would be much relieved.

Please send a response as soon as possible.

Tuth

"Tuth?" wondered Imoen aloud. The Harpers shared her sentiment, frowning as they tried to place the name.

"Someone from another organisation, and one which seeks to work alongside the Iron Throne apparently," noted Jaheira, passing the letters for the others to see. "Regardless, we should move back to the inn and let Maiyn know what has happened. If we tarry here overlong we shall just become the focus of some guards or the returning of some other officials."

Khalid and Imoen nodded their agreement, and collected the magical items that Dynaheir and Xan had identified while the others finished with the correspondence. A few pieces were marked for members of the party, and some were for selling to help their coin situation.

-----------------------

Maiyn had been pacing around the inn since they got back, much to Alora's amusement. Coran tried on several occasions to make her sit at peace, but each time the door opened the ranger would jump up, looking for her companions safe return. Eventually, they did. She listened to their tale, a look of abject horror on her face as they recounted the power that acolytes had wielded. She read the letters quickly, bringing up the same points as the others had earlier, and finally relaxed with a sigh.

"Well, tomorrow morning we shall report to Scar," she decided. "Oh, and I guess you'd all better meet Alora." Maiyn quickly rattled through the names of her companions, and the halfling beamed brightly to them all.

"So Alora," smiled Khalid. "How d-did you meet Maiyn and Coran?"

"Well..." began Alora, taking a deep breath.

"We were both visiting the Hall of Wonders," interrupted Maiyn. "Alora is looking for work to earn a living, and I figured we could do with more help."

"You know of our mission?" asked Jaheira.

Alora nodded. Maiyn had described their progress to date, completely trusting the young halfling. Alora had questioned her willingness to trust, and Maiyn had merely smiled fondly, and told her about Imoen, her 'sister'. Now Alora was getting a chance to talk to Imoen, and they were getting along famously. Within minutes of their conversation they had agreed that pink was probably the best colour in the whole of Toril, honeymead was the best drink on offer at the inn and that Minsc was probably taller than both of them combined.

The two young thieves were the last to retire, the others turning in early after the excitement of the day and in preparation of another long day ahead of them. Imoen's room had two beds, and she was delighted to hear that Alora would share with her, their chattering echoing around the corridor as they eventually made their way to their quarters.

"Hey there, Immy!" Alora called as they settled into bed. "We could be sisters!"

"Well, I don't know about that, Alora," replied Imoen with a grin. "Though I suppose I could be the tall one..."

"Oh, we've got lots in common!" giggled the halfling. "We're both girls!"

Imoen laughed. "Well, yeah..." she admitted.

"We're both adventurers!"

"That too..." chuckled Imoen.

"We're both thieves..." Alora's eyes glinted mischievously.

"I'm willing to bet that I'm a better thief than you are! And I'm a mage now as well!"

"You really think so?" snorted Alora. "Maybe we'll just hafta have some sorta competition to see who's best then!"

Imoen agreed enthusiastically, accepting Alora's first challenge of pilfering Yeslick's holy symbol for a whole hour.

"Good luck!" Alora winked. "G'night!"

-----------------------

"Do you want me to come with you to see Scar?" asked Coran quietly. They'd only just managed to get Namara off to sleep for the second time; he didn't want to cause enough noise to disturb her again after Imoen and Alora's voices had awoken her as they passed the room.

Maiyn nodded. "I would like you to," she whispered. "Even with Namara, we should be safe there, and it is just to report to him what we have found and to collect payment."

"Then we shall go with you," smiled Coran as he pulled Maiyn closer to him. The ranger nestled into her familiar position and sighed softly.

"Mani naa ta?" he asked. What is it?

"They are at Candlekeep," replied Maiyn softly. "I need to go there and find them, to get the evidence Duke Eltan requires. I... I didn't think I'd ever go back."

"Are you unhappy about the thought?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "I think I would like to see everyone again, but they may blame me for Gorion's death. I don't even know how we'd manage to get in!"

"I am sure there will be a way," Coran assured her, stroking her hair gently with his hand. "Namara though..."

Maiyn sat up slightly to look at him. "Oh no," she said, "I wouldn't dream of heading there until Briel is free to take Namara to her new home. No, I promised that we would provide a safe environment, and we shall."

Coran smiled. "I would not imagine Briel would wish to be parted from her daughter for much longer," he sighed. It was Maiyn's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"You will miss her?" she asked gently.

"I... I shall," he nodded. "I didn't think I would, not even when I agreed to take her. But now I look forward to showing her new things, to wakening up and having her near, babbling as she is wont to do."

Maiyn nodded, but stayed quiet. She both expected and feared the hold his daughter would have on him, and she remembered why she'd been preparing herself for his departure. It was important that their last few days together were special; she wanted him to take fond memories of her with him when he left to make his family work.

Coran noticed her silence, and pulled her back close to him. "I will never forget your understanding and compassion in this," he murmured gently. Maiyn smiled softly.

-----------------------

Jaheira leaned back into Khalid's arms as they sat, looking out of the window at the city scenery. Khalid was much more comfortable in the confines of the town than she, but his presence helped her to unwind under most circumstances.

"We will have to go to Candlekeep," she said quietly, feeling Khalid nod. "I am not sure how they will cope."

"They had f-friends there," said Khalid. "I am sure they w-will be pleased to see th-them again."

"Perhaps."

"Don't worry m-my dear," whispered Khalid. "We w-will be with them, and they have p-plenty of friends around them now to help them g-get through it."

"Maiyn has ignored us," replied Jaheira simply.

"N-not entirely," said Khalid. Jaheira sat forward, turning herself to face her husband with a quizzical expression. "I was t-talking to Imoen earlier, and she related how Coran d-disturbed her last night. He'd heard Maiyn's c-cries in her sleep, and had gone to Imoen to seek her advice."

"Oh," said Jaheira.

"He picked the lock on her d-door, and allowed Imoen to waken and comfort her, returning to his own room. Maiyn recounted our c-conversation to Imoen, and told how she'd been visited by Xan when she'd returned t-to her room. He had asked to leave the group; unable, it seems, to d-deal with the prospect of losing Maiyn either to another suitor, or to d-death. She persuaded him to stay, but he left on a c-cold note."

"I had no idea," said Jaheira, subdued.

"We c-couldn't have foreseen that another member of the group would bring up a d-difficult subject with her immediately after we had," Khalid assured her gently.

"What happened after she had told Imoen?"

"Imoen t-told her that if she had already given thought to the perils of the relationship and had c-come to accept them, then it was up t-to her what she did."

"Wise words from one so young," replied Jaheira dryly. "I don't think Maiyn-"

"Jaheira," interrupted Khalid softly. "Maiyn has resigned herself t-to Coran leaving when he returns Namara."

Jaheira looked at him, shock across her face. "How do you know this?"

"Imoen," he replied. "Maiyn only wants her last memories of him to be p-peaceful and happy."

"I see."

"I think we should leave her now to make her own d-decisions and mistakes," mused Khalid. "I know you only w-want the best for her, as much as I do, but she seems to have a strong head on those shoulders, and has p-prepared herself for the worst - perhaps slightly too effectively, c-considering he has shown no intention of abandoning her."

Jaheira nodded, and settled back into her husband's loving arms. She knew his words made sense, and she hoped he was right about Coran; Maiyn seemed to be prepared to change and adapt to cope with his lifestyle. The druid was unconvinced the same would happen in reverse.