By the way, I forgot to mention in the first chapter but I don't actually own the baldur's gate series, though I did pay for the right to play the first game three times over (disk set, disk set to replace the one that disk two stopped working for, and then the steam version) and the second version. And siege of dragonspear, recently, though I'm having a hell of a time with the part I'm stuck at. Only thing I own is Damiondred and even then, only because he's my brainchild. I was going to chunk this chapter into two but decided against it due to lazy.

There was eight of them, traveling together, and while sometimes minor disputes arose they were usually settled pretty quickly. So long as he acted like he behaved and kept his mouth shut it wasn't so bad. Damiondred had even started helping him dissect and harvest reagents from bodies when they weren't practicing and learning the limitations of his budding power, and if that didn't help cultivate faith then he didn't know what would. It was usually done in the middle of the night and a good distance away from the party, but all the best things happened during the witching hour anyways so it wasn't like there was anything being truly lost. He never managed to get the bhaalspawn to actually -eat- any of the humanoids, though he did agree that if there wasn't anything else to eat knowing what he could spare and still function was useful.

He should have seen it coming. He was supposed to watch the archer's back, and instead had been drawn into idle conversation about different methods of casting magic with the Evereskan. A volley of crossbow bolts swept through the party from the bushes on either side of the road, catching them by surprise before black clad figures leapt out and fell upon the party. Damiondred reacted faster than anyone else, turning and shoving his sister down even as he jerked and looked down curiously at the bolt that seemed to have sprouted from his side.

The world erupted into chaos as the party fought back, waves of magical fear emanating and sending people fleeing in all directions. By the time he had gathered his wits and made it back to the site of the battle, the only things that stood to prove that there had been a fight in the first place was three corpses, a groggy Branwen and scorch marks scattered about. He left instructions for her to wait for the rest of the group while he animated one of the corpses and followed it while it headed back the way it had come when it was alive.

He found the camp they had used, but nothing of any great value. Turning, he clutched at his chest and howled, the sound of a wounded beast. He drew a dagger, falling upon the corpse that had led him there and-

Xzar sat up in bed, dagger drawn as he sucked in a breath and held it. Willing his heart to calm, he took careful stock of the room and, belatedly, realized he had once again woken before the sun. He was getting less and less sleep, and it did not bode well. Outside, somewhere along the docks, someone screamed and he shook his head to clear it while sheathing the dagger.

Rolling out of bed, he put his feet under him and started to prepare for another day of wandering aimlessly, following the subtle tug he wasn't even certain was more than a hallucination. Green robes of the evil archmagi, check. License for magical use, expensive and present. Gorion's dagger, the one Damiondred had given him to kill Sarevok with, belted at his waist. Somewhat harder to lose that last one, considering he slept with it under his pillow.

Sitting in front of the mirror at his desk, he studied the circles under his eyes and dug out his shaving supplies. Three months without wearing the pattern of mourning, he mused as he finished washing his face. Three months with the subtle wavy lines that crossed the frown lines on his forehead and disappeared into his hair and the two lines of stars that rested under his kohl-lined eyes. It was a pattern that spoke of pained rebirth, he mused to himself as he finished the last of the stars. He refused to wear mourning again until he found proof that the bhaalspawn was dead.

Pulling his hood up, he stepped out into the darkness that came before the dawn, put his hand on his chest, and prayed.

He was at the bridge, looking over the railing as he internally cursed at another six hour stretch of... Nothing. Random corpses and only the faintest wisp of a tickle within his third eye today, just as it had been for the last handspan of weeks. Divination had failed him. The rumour mill had failed him. Torturing and interrogating the one person dressed similarly to the knaves that had stolen his bhaalspawn had yielded nothi-

Something small, black green and red arrowed past him, heading south. He would have thought nothing of it if not for the way it looked like a pair of wings with a really long tail. Hope rose in his chest and threatened to strangle him as he turned and bolted after it, picking up the hem of his robes with one hand as he flicked his fingers through the motions of a haste spell. He lost sight of it as it ducked around a cluster of buildings, and he cursed as he turned and made his way down the alley way. A quick search rendered a glimpse of it as it circled over the promenade before ducking down, and he saved his breath to run faster.

An explosion threw up chunks of brick and stone, sending him staggering as he rounded the end of the promenade to see the flashes of light that denoted at least two, plausibly three mages fighting each other. He made his way closer in time to see the signature white lightning and purple-blue energy circle through the air, leaving it largely still save for a cry of fury that resonated through his chest, sending him staggering once more. He knew that feeling as it thundered through him, and scrambled up the rubble breathlessly even as he tracked the flying serpent that almost cautiously flit down from the flag pole it had coiled around.

He's here, he's alive, I've found him. The words practically sang through him as he crested the ridge, pulling himself up and stumbling towards the source of the waves of wrath that pounded against and through him like waves during a storm.

The scream of rage that echoed back at Damiondred left him shaking as he clenched his fists and shook where he stood. It was his fault. He'd thought that with Sarevok gone, Imoen would be safe. Realizing that Khalid was dead had hurt, though he had been determined to stifle that feeling until he could go somewhere private, but this... It was like losing Gorion all over again. No, it was worse. Sarevok had only killed his father, Irenicus liked to experiment with people. On people. With things.

Find Irenicus. Find where the wizards took Imoen. Kill them all.

"Damio-"

"LEADER!" Xzar's voice cut through Jaheira's by virtue of how the necromancer had shrieked and, tripping on some of the rubble, tumbled to his knees and reached out to snag the edge of the bhaalspawn's armor. He felt along it, climbing his way up the torso to pat the archer down, hissing with every wound he found. "Alive, sixty-five percent intact-"

"Xzar."

That one word - his very own name! - stilled him, and he looked at his feet as he stepped back, hands falling to his sides. "... We..We tried to find you. Followed every lead and clue we could until our sources were as barren as a salted field. We-"

"Stop." Green eyes flit up to briefly meet black ones before dropping back to his shoes. "Where are you staying."

"We have a house on the docks." The words were whispered out as the livid archer stifled his emotions, the gale that had battered Xzar from the inside settling slowly.

"Take us there."

"Mister! My boss says he can help you find the girl!"

"Jaheira?" Damiondred didn't even glance back at the druid as she nodded and moved towards the little boy.

"We will find you on the docks. I will keep Minsc with me. Now then, little boy..."

Xzar reached up to collect the hovering familiar, placing him firmly into the bhaalspawn's hands before gently tugging him along.

"You, Xzar, are the only person I can ask this of. And I don't want you to tell anyone about it. Do you understand."

Xzar nodded hurriedly as he poured a second cup of tea for himself and settled down on the arm of the couch. Damiondred was sprawled across the middle of it, carefully sipping his tea. He looked unhealthily pale, now that the grime had all been washed up. While he had gotten clean, the necromancer had hurriedly stuffed his flesh golem and two ghouls into the basement, festooning them with herbal poultices that would prevent them from smelling and then locking the door behind him as he retreated to the main floor.

"I'm going to start by saying that I have no idea how you survived ten years of torture. Your faith... It's always been unbreakable, hasn't it. Unshakable. I was there three months and I'd already started to think about ways of killing myself if I couldn't escape."

"It comes in stages, for some. Physical torture, mental torture. They try to break the body to break the spirit, On the receiving end, there is defiance, then escape, then despair. Sometimes all together, layered." He blandly stirred his tea, frowning.

"He wanted something from me. He damn well invited me to track him down, holding Imoen hostage. I need to know what he did to me, Xzar. I can't... I can't ask Jaheira. He kept doing things to me that made my head feel thick. For a few weeks, I stopped being able to pause and take stock of a situation, before it came back to me."

"You speak of the greyscale, where the world stilled and you could see?"

Damiondred nodded, sipping his tea and grimacing. "... First time I'd seen the Echo was on seeing Yoshimo. I don't trust him. For someone that was being held captive the same as we were, he certainly was a lot cleaner. Well groomed, too."

"Envious?"

The archer snorted, shaking his head as he glanced at Xzar. "It's not my fault that after three months I've got a patchy goatee and shitty mustache. I should take care of that, though. Can I borrow your straight edge?"

"Of course. What are we doing about the rest of the incoming guests, considering the mess in the basement? Treehugger would not particularly care for such company, though the Bald Giant and his Boo will likely care only marginally."

"They can stay at one of the inns. I'm sure Jaheira's been here before, and I don't plan to sleep anywhere near Yoshimo."

Xzar nodded slowly, setting his tea aside as he frowned. "If I am to see what has been done, it is best that we do so sooner rather than later. Shall we?"

"I suppose so."

Jaheira stepped into the house with a suspicious look around, Minsc ducking under the doorframe after her and closing the door behind Yoshimo once the other human had made his way into the main floor of the house. She was surprised at the somewhat spartan furnishings, looking skeptically at the couch against one wall and the chair in the corner adjacent to the door that presumably led to a basement. Sniffing the air caught an ever so faint hint of decay under the sour notes of embalming fluid and smokey tones of incense. Rapid footsteps came down the stairs, revealing their owner to be the necromancer as he raised his hands and held his arms up.

"Gently! 'Tis old and decrepit, as any good necromancer hovel should be. Damiondred rests upstairs, recovering for the time being. He wishes you to find an inn to use as a base of operations, as this one simply does not have the room for all."

"I still need to speak with him, Grave Robber." The druid fought to keep her tone level as Xzar put his hands on his hips and scowled.

"Is it grave robbing if a fox comes across the corpse of a deer? Now's not the time for that, though."

"Damion!" Jaheira perked up somewhat as the tall, lean bhaalspawn made his way carefully down the stairs, holding onto the banister and lacing up his breeches. His shirt hung loosely on his frame, as if he had just thrown it on quickly to cover himself. "We spoke with the boy's master. Twenty thousand gold will get us to where Imoen is, although he would not say who his sources were nor where she is. No amount of haggling or threatening would convince him otherwise."

"Twenty thousand gold. Thank you, Jaheira. I've a task in mind for each of you, but I'll tell you what they are tomorrow morning. For the rest of today, find an inn we can use as a base and take some time to take care of yourselves." He leaned against the wall, feeling along his face and looking irritated as he found a patch of stubble that hadn't quite been shaved close enough for his liking. Jaheira and Minsc, both of you are mourning, technically. I want to give both of you as much time as I can spare to deal with your grief before I commit myself to the second revenge-based task of my life that involves hunting down someone I know very little about. Once we start, we won't have time to show what the enemy would consider an exploitable weakness."

"The Copper Coronet in the slums, is where I would recommend. Khalid and... Khalid and I would stay there whenever we were in town on business and looked to lay low."

"Good. Minsc, I need you to stay with Jaheira. Keep each other safe."

"And me?" Yoshimo smiled encouragingly, straightening how he stood as he pointed to himself with his thumb.

"You're not involved in this. You helped us escape, and we owe each other nothing." The bhaalspawn moved to sit on the arm of the couch, rubbing the back of his neck and rolling a shoulder idly.

The dark skinned human deflated somewhat. "Well, no, but I cannot just sit around while a young girl like Imoen is tortured. It would be wrong. Besides, I have some contacts who might be able to help."

"Fine. Meet at the Copper Coronet tomorrow morning then, and we'll see what we have for options."

"Yoshimo is willing."

"Good. Go then, and we'll talk tomorrow."

"What about you, Damion you were tortured. I should-" Jaheira paused as the bhaalspawn raised a hand to cut her off, shaking his head.

"I'll stay here for the night. Xzar has this place fairly well protected, and when all's said and done I'm actually not that badly hurt. I need to talk to him about what happened during and after the attack, after all, and I'm fairly tired. I'll probably sleep until he wakes me up to meet up with you guys."

"Xan, Kivan and Branwen went to Evereska to see if they could find anything on the style of clothes our assailants wore. Ajantis and Garrick went back to Baldur's Gate to speak with Scar and see if they could figure anything out. Skie went with them. Eldoth was supposed to go with them but with things how they were between the two of them, who knows where he went. Safana went to look into some contacts in Luskan. Xzar followed his gut and came to Athkatla two months ago, and spent the time since wandering the streets and sifting through information to try and find out anything he could."

They were at a table in the Copper Coronet, all five of them, each with a mug in front of them as they mulled over what they knew.

"The Cowled Wizards took Irenicus and Imoen. I need to secure a license that costs five thousand gold before I can cast magic without being imprisoned, although I'm tempted to just stand in the square and cast as much as I can so they take me the way they took Imoen."

"That does not guarantee they will take you to the same place as they took her, and also nobody would be able to go with you." Xzar sipped his drink, sitting in his chair backwards as he draped over the back of it. "Twenty five thousand pieces of gold. This one can think of few businesses that are lucrative enough to pay so well on such short notice."

"Which means dirty work, likely illegal." The bhaalspawn frowned, idly rolling his empty mug in his hands. "Jaheira-"

"I know. It is the same as before, with Sarevok. You pointed us to the good, wholesome people while you rubbed elbows with the scum and villainy of the Sword Coast." Her tone was dry, and she set her mug down with a quiet click. "You did this to protect Imoen from bad people, and now you would do so because you know neither myself nor Minsc would agree with working with evil people, on evil things."

"That's why you're my favourite aunt, Jaheira. You see to the heart of things quickly. I'm going to do a lot of really bad things, and I don't want that to drag you down too. You've got your reputation as a Harper to consider." He lifted his empty mug in salute as she shook her head.

"What makes you think I am some sort of saint? We used to get into heaps of trouble with your father."

"Half of it was probably his fault, too." Damiondred smiled slightly, tapping his mug against the table twice. "Still, if we work at this from two angles then I can send you info like I did last time, split the twenty thousand to two chunks of ten thousand each group, and you -know- I wouldn't do anything too terrible. Maybe a petty theft here and there, but-"

"Is anyone willing to hear my plea? Anyone? You all know me—I've helped some of you! Is this the thanks I get? I've helped lots of your kind!"

"-That would make me strangle people as if I was my brother. She's all yours, Jaheira." The bhaalspawn raised his mug, slipping away from the table with Xzar in tow as the yellow and blue clad human approached the table. Yoshimo met them at the bar, and had just gotten into some of the potential jobs his contacts had unburied for him when a woman approached them. Xzar was the first to notice, blinking and leaning slightly to get a better look at her.

"I need... I would speak with you... I need help... I need help getting..."

The necromancer elbowed Damiondred in the side, nodding as the bhaalspawn turned with a grunt.

"Oh, don't mind Hexxat. She's... We've thought abotu kicking her out, but it'd be like kicking a poor dog. She's harmless." The barkeep fidgeted, before being waved into silence.

"My name is... Hexxat. Not Clara. I need to get to... Dragomir's Tomb."

"Lucky for you, we're in the market-" He blinked as she lurched forward and grasped at his arm over the bar, dully continuing to mutter.

"Treasure. There's a... great treasure there. In Dragomir's Tomb. Graveyard... enter from the graveyard..."

Damiondred and Xzar shared a glance, before the taller of the two nodded. "Alright. Meet us there an hour after sundown?"

She nodded, let go of his arm and shuffled back to her corner.

"-And this is the government section of the city. This one doesn't have a helm of infravision for you, but-"

"Is that an angry mob?" Yoshimo squinted at the batch of torches and distant shouting.

"... This one believes so, judging by the torches, and we are something of an expert."

"That's not just an angry mob." Damiondread turned and strode along the courtyard. Even without the boots he sorely missed he had a long stride that could cover a lot of ground when he had a mind to, leaving Yoshimo to catch up as Xzar unhesitatingly broke into a jog beside the bhaalspawn.

"I've done nothing wrong!"

"... Oh dear..." Xzar preemptively leaned over, casting on the fly and infusing a protective spell into Damiondred's armor as he broke into a run at the familiar voice crying out in frustration and anger. While he wasn't as broad shouldered as Sarevok had been, he waded through the crowd with the same ease as someone wading through a field of wheat. People simply parted before him, and he reached out to snatch the torch-bearing arm of the man closest to the unlit pyre. Wrenching the torch from his grasp, he held it towards the crowd.

"What has this woman done, then? Speak up."

"It's a drow! They're all evil!"

"Nothing, then? No proof of murders, no kidnapped and eaten babies who's mourning mothers are here?" He raised the torch higher, before casting it aside and turning to climb partly onto the unlit pyre and slice through the ropes with the dagger Xzar offered out as he put himself between the bhaalspawn and the crowd. Wide eyes boggled at the impromptu rescue, even as the crowd began to scream and flee as the 'monster' was set free.

"No, you fool! This monster will kill us all!"

He was the first to die, perhaps ironically. Damiondred stepped down off the pyre before turning and drawing his brothers sword from its sheath against his back, bringing it down onto and into the shoulder of the fanatical guard, driving him to his knees before the bhaalspawn's boot met his face and pushed him off of the blade. He ignored the first arrow that glanced off of the pulsating teal glow that rose to ward the attack off, planting the sword through the wheezing guard's chest and into the ground behind him before collecting the bow and a handful of arrows to return fire with.

Yoshimo hadn't had a chance to see him with a bow, and faltered with his own shots as he noticed arrows were finding eyes and throats and had downed both of the other fanatical guards before he had so much as stuck one in the arm and thigh.

"Xzar, they're all yours. Yoshimo, keep watch. Viconia, we have to stop meeting like this. People are going to talk."

"It is good to see you too, Abbil."

"It's not much, but it's the gear we've got for the time being. Take my chain shirt, I've got an armor spell prepared."

The (now) party of four lingered in the graveyard as Viconia prepared herself for the impending crypt-delve. Damion had taken to whittling a rough circle out of a piece of wood he had found while she slipped the armor over her head, carving a a secondary circle into the center of it before offering it out. She took it without complaint, studying it before shaking her head.

"To recap, Abbil, your sister was kidnapped by the mage that tortured both of you for three months, and now you have taken to grave robbery to gather the gold you are needing for passage to where she waits?"

"Technically, if they still needed it they'd be walking around with them considering the amount of necromantic energy Xzar can feel in the area, wouldn't they. I like to think of it as if we're doing the city a service. If the dead rise without such dangerous things as weapons, then they're only half as dangerous. Besides, it's not robbing if I need it more. Which I do." He stepped back, launching into spellcasting as the drow tisked and shook her head.

"And this Dragomir's Tomb, is to have a great treasure?"

"We're also fairly sure that she's being controlled by something, Xzar's got three gold on vampires. Yoshimo thinks it's a ghost. I thought it best to pack extra stakes just in case." The archer adjusted his clothes as the shimmering field of abjuration that covered him like a suit of armor faded from view. "When it comes to the undead, Xzar's an expert after all. And I don't quite know what works against ghosts other than magic. But now you're here, so that's fortunate. Between the two of you I'm confident that none of us are going to die."

"And what do you have that is strong enough magic? The sword of your brother?" She quirked a brow, before glancing at the three humans. Yoshimo was prepping a torch, and smiled back at her as the bhaalspawn answered her.

"Yes. I've also traded daggers with Xzar, though that one doesn't have quite as strong of an enchantment as the sword does. I'm still learning how to use it but it seems pretty self explanatory. I don't like how slow it is, though. Otherwise we've got a handful of wands with one charge each and a number of scrolls."

"You were right, Abbil. That is not much."

"But it is what we've got. Are you ready?"

"If that is your will."

Oh yeah! Crim! But Noirog is Gorion backwards and has a whole lot more meaning. Maybe the first familiar got killed in siege of dragonspear and he had to summon a new one. Maybe he just renamed it. There's a lot of aoe heckery in SoD after all, considering on any given major fight I need to reload from my quicksave one to three times before I get it right. Honestly, it's very likely he just renamed it because while Crim is a cool name, he misses his dad.
And yes, Uncle Iroh from the last airbender!
Questions? Comments? Consistency issues?
Leave a message after the tone,
-KD