13 – Heroes and Hamsters

"I'll only believe him dead when I see him disintegrated before my eyes. Even then beware the dust." –Nysis Mediacros of Thay at the Second Battle of Lake Mulsantir, 1102 D.R.

The Sword Coast is named for the sharp cliffs that rise like great white blades from much of the shore. Ashura remembered this as they ascended a narrow mountain path between sun-bleached stones. The bare rock all around them stabbed at the sky, and she could taste brine in the air. Somewhere beyond the cliffs the crash of distant waves echoed, a rumble that reminded her of home.

Closer at hand than the unseen ocean a wide river snaked through a fissure thirty feet or so beneath the cliffs. Their path had been following its course more or less for the past half an hour, and after losing sight of the water and making a steep climb up a switch-back and around another jagged tooth of rock they came upon a long bridge of wood and rope that spanned the river's width. In the distance high above the crossing an old stone fortress clung to the cliffs, carved from the face of the mountain. If Minsc was truly guiding them over the path the gnolls had taken it was a good bet this was their layer.

The Bright Tooth gnoll clan, Ashura thought with trepidation. Her stomach was twisting itself into knots. All along the march through the mountains that day she had pondered revealing the snake in their midst and being done with it. It could have been so easy. 'Hey everybody! This guy wants to murder Dynaheir!" Surely Branwen's magic, Imoen's tricks and Minsc's sword arm along with her own would be more than Edwin could handle. It had seemed for a while that she still had a choice, but now the end of the winding mountain road was in sight. Doing nothing was a choice in itself, it seemed.

Well, almost nothing. She glanced down at the new ring, tight over the supple leather glove on her right hand. If she was going to face the consequences of saying nothing about Edwin's plot at least she'd do it with a little magic protection around her.

Ahead the rope and tightly-tied planks swayed above the river. Ugh, another bridge. There even seemed to be someone –or something- sitting on the other side. Maybe she could get Minsc to go first this time. He was the Hero, after all.

As they drew closer to the gap two muscular, male-looking humanoids stood up from where they had been lounging by the support poles at the far end of the bridge and looked their way. They were lesser ogres by the look of them, like the pair that had killed the halfling courier. A matted mop of rust-red hair stuck out at all angles from the scalp of one ogrillon and the other was completely bald. Instead of loincloths this pair wore ragged trousers cinched with rope, an outfit not unlike that of a common laborer on a hot day.

After all Ashura had been through it came as no surprise that a pair of large monsters would greet them here. It was a surprise, however, when instead of simply screaming and charging across the bridge one of the creatures –the one with red hair- spoke. "This is our bridge," the ogrillon growled through jagged teeth over the gurgle of the river far below. "You pay to cross."

The plank-bridge was wide enough for two people to stand comfortably side-by-side, with frayed ropes at either edge. Minsc and Ashura were in the lead, feet close to the first planks, and both had readied their weapons when the lesser ogres made their presence known. "Pay?" Ashura asked, one of her swords pointing at the lead ogrillon. "Like a toll? Uh…like a coin or something?" Maybe this will be simp-

The ogrillon with the red hair shook his head violently. "No!" he shouted. "More! Hundred…no, two hundred. Gold!"

Ashura made a face. "That's a bit steep."

"Yeah," Imoen interjected. "Aren't you supposed to ask us a riddle or something?"

The two creatures shared confused looks.

"Haven't you ever read one of those stories?" Imoen asked. "You ask us a riddle, and if we answer right we get to cross the bridge. And if we answer wrong…uh, we have to give you something I guess."

The bald ogrillon's eyes brightened as something occurred to him. "Course!" he shouted. "Mum told me one of those. You answer our riddle, you cross. You answer wrong and we eat one of you." He turned to his companion. "That maybe better than gold. I'm starving."

Ashura cringed. She admired Imoen's attempt to haggle their way down, and answering a riddle asked by an idiot would be less of a challenge than fighting these two, but this was not looking like it would end well. Maybe if she could shift the subject. "Do you eat the gnolls when they pass through here?" Ashura asked. "Or do you take their gold?"

"The dog-men?" the red-haired ogre responded. "Course not. They're bigger than you. Lots of 'em too. They say 'Watch the bridge' so we do."

"Don't pay us though," the bald ogre complained. "Or feed us. Forget riddles. I say we just take one of 'em and make a feast."

His companion didn't object. "Which?" he asked instead.

Well this is going nowhere good. Ashura suddenly wished she had some skill with a bow so she could get the inevitable battle started. She gave Imoen a pointed look but this time her friend didn't notice or take the hint.

The bald ogre pondered very briefly. "Biggest one I guess." He pointed at Minsc.

"Ha!" Minsc barked. "You'll eat my steel, not my flesh, villain!" And with that he charged full-speed across the swaying bridge, oblivious to the motion. On the last pace Minsc sailed towards the nearer creature with his foot raised and planted his boot against its stomach. The kick sent the ogrillon stumbling back along the planks before he lost his feet and fell on his ass.

By then Edwin had begun to hum something and Ashura was following across the lurching bridge. When the ogrillon fell the bridge tilted even harder, and she found herself pressing a fist against one of the support ropes and fighting to maintain balance. She didn't move any farther until the bridge righted itself a bit.

Minsc seemed less bothered by the shifting battlefield and was slashing away at the bald ogrillon. The burly monster proved faster than he looked, dodging back and ducking and twisting. He even managed to block a slash from Minsc's greatsword by slapping his forearm against the flat of the blade. Despite his oafish appearance and manner of speaking the ogrillon seemed to be an experienced brawler. The attacks did push the creature back little by little though, well past the red-haired ogrillon that was righting himself.

When everything had settled a bit and Ashura pressed forward again a strange, giddy sensation filled her body and each stride she took over the bridge seemed to cover more planks than the previous. Those boards seemed farther away as well, smaller and smaller. The red-headed Ogrillon had pushed up onto his feet as she drew closer and to Ashura's shock he seemed to be shorter than she, his head coming up to her chest.

She halted, placing her hands against the two support ropes and taking stock of the sudden change. Her weapons and armor seemed to have grown with her. The gladiuses in her hands were now the size of broadswords and her feet were purchased near either edge of the bridge. Was this Edwin's doing?

The ogrillon got over the shock of Ashura's transformation faster than she did and let out a roar, running full-bore at her. She tried to swing down with her new longswords but he passed under her arms in a flash and crashed bodily into her. After a couple of wobbly steps back Ashura managed to stay upright on the swaying planks but the ogrillon's thick arms were wrapped around her now in a tight bearhug. Small as he seemed he was still grotesquely over-muscled and the grip was vice-like and tightening, intent on pushing the breath from her lungs and crushing ribs.

Grunting, Ashura slammed the pommels of her swords down against the lesser ogre's shoulders in hopes of loosening his grip. No good. The next set of blows came to the back of the ogrillon's head. There were pained snarls but the grip held. Twisting his head the ogrillon tried to bite at her chest. Sharp as his teeth were she felt nothing beyond a little pinch while he got a mouthful of chainmail. Chain armor was a good thing. Chain armor with magically enlarged links was even better.

"Echellion racadis sar zaen." It was Edwin again, chanting from somewhere behind her. As he intoned the strange the words Ashura felt another wave of vigor and power surge through her body. When she slammed the pommels of her swords down the next time it was with a blinding speed she hadn't thought herself capable of. Then the swords were up in a flash and she slammed down again. And again. And again.

The ogrillon's grip loosened and then the arms fell away as it stumbled back, shaking its battered and bleeding head and blinking through red eyes; punch-drunk. In the brief moment that the creature was on his heels Ashura drove her left sword deep into his chest and slashed wide with her right-hand weapon, opening his throat with a brief spout of blood. The ogrillon's head rolled back at an unnatural angle before he slid off her sword and fell in a heap. Her long legs carried her over the shuddering body with an easy leap.

Two more quick strides took her to the end of the bridge where Minsc tussled with his foe. The ogrillon was bleeding from a deep gash in the chest and a few other spots but he had managed to grip the ranger's greatsword and hold on with blood-slick hands. Rushing forward with casual speed that shocked her, Ashura plunged her sword through the lesser ogre's back. A yank of her arm and she pulled the impaled creature back from Minsc, who followed through with a slash that nearly decapitated the ogrillon.

"Thanks big lady," Minsc said with his ever-enthusiastic smile.

While they had been finishing off the ogrillon's armed figures had turned the corner of the mountain path ahead, and they were quickly approaching. Looking up and blinking away some blood that had splattered her face Ashura saw them: six shaggy creatures with large weapons marching down from the fortress in a loosely military formation. Though they were stooped forward and their legs were bent in a way no human's could, they were each a good seven feet tall. Their bodies were roughly shaped like men with the heads of dogs, every single creature barring its teeth. Their short-haired coats ranged in hue from black to gold to a redish-orange, and every coat was speckled with large spots of one color or another.

Here were the gnolls at last. Many simply called the creatures dog-men, though the bestiaries claimed that they were a humanoid form of hyenas, a dog-like animal that roams the great grasslands of the Shaar far to the south.

They wore no clothing and what little armor they had looked motley and improvised; a leather guard tied to a forearm here or a thigh there, along with harnesses that held lacquered strips to their chests. All favored long pole-weapons; though as with the armor each was a little different: poleaxes, spears, warmaces and warhammers that looked to be in poor repair and most likely looted.

Forming up the gnolls stood shoulder to shoulder, blocking a spot where the mountain path narrowed between high rocks. Minsc took a deep breath and hefted his dripping sword with both hands, pointing it forward. The rest of the group had crossed the bridge now, and were fanning out; all except for Edwin that is. He fearlessly strode past them all and up the mountain path towards the gnolls, and as he passed Ashura noticed that he was twirling his fingers and humming to himself.

"These," Minsc bellowed, "are the dog-men who spirited Dynaheir away! To rescue her we must cut a swath through their ranks! We must-"

A pace away from the towering gnolls Edwin whirled around, pointed a finger at Minsc and said: "I think not." A shimmer that resembled a heat-wave had developed at the tip of his forefinger, and as he spoke it grew and flew forward, straight into Minsc's midsection. The faintly visible bolt struck with the force of a battering ram, throwing the ranger off his feet and over the edge of the cliff behind him. He sailed out into the open air, legs kicking and arms wheeling, and Ashura could have sworn she heard a faint, indignant 'squeak' before he fell like a stone and disappeared from view. A splash from the river far below followed.

Nearly the moment that Minsc went flying Imoen drew an arrow and loosed at Edwin as she shouted: "I knew it!" but a familiar purple barrier bloomed to life around the mage as the missile arced. Edwin ignored the arrow, which bounced away harmlessly, and with a word he parted the line of gnolls and walked by. Once he was past they instantly fell back into a line and braced themselves.

At the same time Branwen let out a warcry that started as the word "Traitor!" and turned into a feral howl, then charged. There was a glowing blue corona around her warhammer and a faint shimmer at her silhouette; the glow of a protective prayer.

For perhaps the space of a breath Ashura hesitated. Edwin had just played his hand, just as he said he would. What should she-

But no. No time to think. The damn priestess was going to get skewered on those six weapons if she didn't act fast. So Ashura bent forward and rushed ahead, charging past Branwen almost instantly and smashing into the enemy line.

She quickly realized that being twice as big and fast as normal had its advantages. A stab from a gnoll's trident that normally would have seemed quick as a viper felt awkward and sluggish to Ashura as she easily dodged around and slashed aside the shaft of a halberd with an overhand chop. Her speed let her dance past their weapons, her size gave her reach, and in the next motion she drove her left-hand sword through one of the gnoll's eyes. Jaws snapped and slobber flew, but she backed and wove around teeth and steel, avoiding her foes as her swords struck again and again. A shaggy body slumped against Ashura, dying shudders running their frantic course as her sword worried the deep wound it had created, and with a grunt and a shove she pushed the dying gnoll off and slammed him into another foe, toppling the creature over.

One more slash through a yelping gnoll's neck and she was clear of the floundering line. Up ahead stood a wooden barricade at the foot of stone steps that wound up to the fortress. More gnolls stood at attention beneath and beside the logs, their shaggy bodies turning aside as Edwin marched between them and up the steps.

After the red wizard she ran, her strides long and quick, almost leaping up the path. The gnolls at the barricade formed up and raised their weapons, and she plowed into them without hesitation. For a few furiously pounding heartbeats her world was a whirlwind of fur, steel and blood. Then she was clear and running up the steps, higher and higher above the jagged rocks.

Gnolls howled and charged down the stairway, greeting her with the tips of their spears. She zipped past a spear-thrust and ran the first beast she met through. Releasing her deeply imbedded sword she grabbed the shaft of another spear and yanked, pulling its owner off the steps and over the edge of the cliff. The dog-man yelped and cried as he bounced from rock to rock, tumbling fifty feet or more before he came to rest.

Turning from the cliff's edge Ashura yanked her sword free from the dead gnoll at her feet and pushed onward up the broad stone steps. More gnolls were spilling out of the fortress ahead. She caught another glimpse of the billowing red robes rising up a final, more narrow flight of stairs that led between the walls of the fortress, then her vision was filled with fur bodies and gleaming weapons.

They were large and fast and vicious but she was larger and faster. Kicks and pommel-blows sent gnolls plunging off the stairs and into the abyss. Stabs and slashes made bodies shudder and filled the air with pained howl and the smell of bile and blood.

She felt the unnatural speed she had possessed falter as she began the final climb up the more narrow stairs, but thankfully the enlargement spell remained. Two heads taller than even the largest gnoll, she pushed and bullied her way through, shoving the closely packed bodies off the steps to be dashed on the rocks below. When she struck with her swords she always pressed in close and stabbed deep, making the reach of their massive but awkward weapons meaningless. The tactic earned her a few bites on the chest and shoulders, but the gnolls went away with little more than a mouthful of chainlinks, their bites dulled by the shimmering magical shield her ring provided.

Ascending the final step she towered over another creature and slashed it down with a strike from both swords at once. She had to stoop to pass through the walls of fortress.

Once she stepped inside it was clear that the gnolls' layer was a ruin. The area she stood in now had once supported a roof but it had rotted and fallen away ages ago, leaving a small maze of uneven walls over a weathered stone floor. From gaps in those walls to either side more gnolls emerged: five on the right and six on the left, the way before her blocked by a wall.

Stretching to her full height Ashura marched towards the pack of dog-men on the far right side and…found that her full height wasn't so impressive anymore. The gnolls grew before her, looming up to a full two heads taller than she, and the thick swords in her hands that had once matched the reach of their weapons were mere gladiuses again. Behind her at the archway two more of the creatures ducked and entered the courtyard: gnolls that she had pushed her way past in her pursuit of Edwin.

Nine fucking Hells! She had pushed and pressed as far as the magical enhancements would take her, and it would have been a good tactic if there had been fewer creatures to fight, but this was a bloody army. And now she was surrounded, trapped and far behind enemy lines, just a short girl with a pair of short swords.

The gnolls were approaching with caution, long weapons extended protectively. They weren't yet convinced that the whirling giantess had become less of a threat. Good. Ashura took a deep breath and began a silent prayer to Talos.

Dear Storm Lord…

After edging around the broken walls the gnolls were fanning out.

…god of tearing shit up…

The teeth of every last dog-man was barred, slather dripping to the floor.

…please grant me the strength to tear some shit up in your name. So let it be.

With a canine snarl of her own Ashura rushed towards the wall of spears and halberds. She used both of her blades to swat weapons aside as she pushed forward, but she felt a sharp sting in her left arm before she had closed the distance with the nearest gnoll. Her momentum carried her sword cleanly through the creature's chestguard and body beneath, not stopping until the weapon was hilt-deep. The gnoll threw its head back and howled before sharply bending forward and clamping its teeth down on Ashura's shoulder. Bits of torn chainmail fell to the stones between them as the creature turned its head and worried the wound. They struggled there a moment, Ashura twisting her sword and screaming in pain as the gnoll chomped with its teeth until the beast's strength finally gave out and it slumped and fell away from her.

Before she could catch a breath or turn something sharp and heavy struck her in the back and sent her to the floor face-first. The ringing of chainmail links falling to the stone sounded all around her. Through bleary eyes Ashura saw the lower paws of the nearest gnoll right in front of her and lashed out with her left-hand sword. The blade cut through fur and sinew and bone, taking the creature off its feet and down to her level. A quick crawl brought her to the fallen beast and she drove her right sword through its body, pressing close as she did, grappling and rolling.

She managed to twist under the gnoll's thrashing body as the other creatures brought their weapons down, and used its bulk as a shield that took the brunt of the slashing poleaxes and stabbing spears. A breath later the shaggy body was ripped away from her; removed by a kick. The gnoll who had knocked the corpse aside towered over Ashura, poleax held high. Before the weapon fell towards her skull she lashed out with an empty hand, ghostfire flaring and flying across the gap between them. The bolt of energy stuck the gnoll in the chest with the desired effect: the creature stumbled and sank to one knee as its strength was drawn into Ashura's body. She felt wounds close; strength return.

As the stolen vitality coursed through her Ashura launched to her feet and drove her sword through the staggered gnoll. A snarl to her left gave her some warning, but when she turned and raised a sword to block her weapon was easily dashed aside by a two-handed warmace. The mace whirled around with dazzling speed and slammed into the side of Ashura's helmet, a shimmer appearing briefly before her eyes as the weapon was slowed by her magical barrier. The blow was still firm enough to send her stumbling drunkenly until her back pressed against the ruined wall. The gnoll advanced, barely visible through the flashes and stars before Ashura's eyes. It hefted the warmace for another swing.

Dropping her right-hand sword Ashura swung her hand up between herself and the gnoll. Once again the life-draining energy burst from her palm and the trick worked just as well the second time as the first. The throbbing at her temple dissipated as her head-wound closed, and at the same time the gnoll looked queasy and lost its footing. It was enough of an opening for Ashura to rush forward and slash at the creature's neck again and again until it fell to the stone.

Howls and snarls echoed through the ruins behind her, followed by pained yips. Imoen and Branwen were hitting their back-ranks. Good.

Ashura turned and stepped around a ruined wall. Beyond lay more open stone courtyard, with two large, round pits in the center. As she passed the first pit an intense stench struck her, and peering down revealed hundreds of moldering bones that covered the floor in shallow piles, speckled here and there with fresh, mangled corpses. Every body had been stripped of all clothing and possessions, and most seemed to be the blue goblin-like creatures that were common in this region, but here and there lay hobgoblins, and there were perhaps four corpses that could have once been human. At a glance none of the bodies seemed to have Dynaheir's olive skin or long brown hair, but all were badly mangled by a combination of carrion animals and the manner in which the gnolls had slain them. A wooden plank hung over the edge of the pit, stained ochre and orange with old dried blood. This seemed to be either an execution ground, a place of ritual sacrifice, or both.

Looking up from the carnage Ashura caught a glimpse of a brighter shade of red. There was Edwin, at the pit on the far side of the courtyard, walking down a crude stairway made from raised logs that ringed the hole.

Ashura made her way around the edge to follow, but once again her path was blocked when several more dog-men fanned out into view. Among them was the largest gnoll yet. Great.

As the cries of furious gnolls echoed off the walls of the pit Edwin impatiently thumbed through a small leatherbound tome. There had been several books in the witch's possession but this and here spellbook were the true prizes to be found. No doubt what he held in his hand was some sort of journal or logbook that contained reports the Hathran meant to deliver to her superiors. It was written in cipher of course, and a complicated one at that. The letters were recognizable runes of old Rus, but they were a mismatched garble of strung-together consonants without spacing or punctuation.

Up above at the lip of the pit the sounds of battle raged on, steel ringing against steel, and Edwin pondered which way the storm would turn. If his assistance had not been enough the dark haired girl's death would be a shame. Of course if everything went just right she would be the only survivor and they could strike some sort of deal. The bounty for the witch would raise his status in the enclave, and the warrior-girl seemed a pliable sort of mercenary. Surely he could convince her to work for them, preferably as a personal bodyguard.

Looking up from the indecipherable book Edwin studied the imprisoned witch across from him. This pit was only used to keep live prisoners, but there was still a sour stench in the air. Dynaheir was bound by rusty iron manacles to a pole at the center of the pit, a ragged gag between her lips. It seemed that the gnolls had not made any true attempts at torture, and Edwin suspected that they feared what would happen if they removed the gag. Regardless she was not in particularly good shape: her purple dress was torn in many places and portions of the ragged garment were moldering and losing their color. Beneath the rips there was dry, crusted blood from wounds she had sustained during her capture, and doubtless standing here through two nights of rainstorms had not been good for her. Her face was gaunt and weary, malnourished and dehydrated.

Good. The promise of food and water to a desperate prisoner could be a powerful interrogation tool. The clang of steel above, however, reminded Edwin that he was probably running out of time.

With his free hand the red mage stroked his moustache thoughtfully. Were he a more powerful mage he could teleport his prisoner away with him, but alas, as it was this was the only chance he'd probably get at an interrogation. With a flick of his wrist Edwin magically drew the gag from the witch's mouth. "This is no simple dejemma for you, is it Hathran?" he began.

"Viales-" the witch launched into a magical incantation, a glow beginning to form around her. It was stifled before she could get another word out when Edwin gestured and the gag was pushed back into her mouth. With the spell disrupted the glow abruptly died.

Edwin gave the witch a patronizing roll of his eyes. Of course she would run through every spell she could before speaking. If there was more time it could have even been a useful part of the game; Edwin casually making her waste her spells and dash her hopes. As it was she was buying herself time. Frustrating. That morning Edwin had prepared a powerful fire spell and he was seeing little alternative to cutting his loses and using it. Funny that he would end up burning the witch at a stake; you always read of such things in storybooks.

"Don't expect your bodyguard to sweep in and rescue you," Edwin said. "He brought a few fools along with him on this doomed mission but I've already disposed of him. A battering ram spell to the stomach sent him plunging off a cliff. Look into my eyes, you can tell I do not lie. And we will have all the information we need of your mission from this book easily enough. Lasla, one of my colleges here on the coast, is a skilled diviner." With another gesture Edwin slipped the gag down once again, ready to replace it should Dynaheir attempt another spell. "Your choice is simply whether you wish to tell me of your mission now and be granted a quick death or linger in this pit for a tenday in my company."

The witch was silent, her large brown eyes hard and resolved. Edwin knew his threats were hollow at the moment, with the battle still raging above. Ah well. Either the storm would pass by or it would not.

A massive, shaggy body pitched over the lip of the pit and hit the ground hard a few paces from Edwin, letting out a muted yelp. The red wizard pivoted towards the fallen gnoll, stepping back. It had obviously broken a few bones in the fall and was moving and breathing but only just; stunned. It was the largest of the dog-men too, with red and white markings on its harness that he recognized. The leader of the Bright Tooth Pack. Well, there was his answer.

With quick strides a woman rushed down the log stairs into the pit. Edwin recognized Ashura by her twin shortswords but little else. Her hair was slicked back and soaked through with fresh dark blood, and her face was caked in red and black. Her armor and doublet were drenched and smeared as well, the chainmail torn wide open at the shoulder, back and belly. The black-stained metal hung loosely, and really there was hardly enough mail left to protect anything, though her clothing beneath was far more intact. A sign that the armor and magical ring had done their jobs.

Leaping down the final steps Ashura reached the fallen gnoll commander and plunged her swords into his body, twisting her weapons until the kicks and struggles of the creature became feeble death throws. She leaned heavily onto her swords and over the body then, trying to catch her breath in long, ragged wheezes.

"I thought," Edwin began, "that you would be the first to arrive (though that haste spell was meant to help as well. Can't be too careful.)"

Ashura looked up from her kill with wild eyes. She shoved her way up and into a fighting stance and ripped her swords from the dead gnoll's body. Above there was still howling and singing steel as the other two women fought their way through the last of the gnolls.

"Our deal?" Edwin asked.

She glared at him for a time. Her lips twisted up, ready to spew all sorts of nasty accusations, but in the end she remained silent. Finally, her head bent forward in the slightest of nods.

"Then this will be over momentarily." Edwin gestured towards the flight of logs. "Watch for your companions. It would be helpful if you can distract them but I won't insist." He stretched his long fingers out, recalling the fire spell.

Though her gag was gone Dynaheir didn't say a word. She watched the scene before her with narrow, impassive eyes. No begging for her life, no cursing. For the space of a breath or two Ashura's eyes met Dynaheir's, then she gripped her swords tightly and turned her back. Facing the winding log steps Ashura looked up and saw-

"Raaahhhrrrggghhh!"

-a nearly seven-foot-tall berserker of Rashemen flying down the stairs towards her, his lacquered armor dripping wet, his six-foot-long greatsword held high and his eyes full of blind rage. Instinctively she lifted her own sword to block but in that instant she realized it would be nowhere near enough and frantically scrambled to the side to avoid Minsc's descending weapon.

There was a scraping of steel when the swords met, and numbing pain shot through Ashura's arm as her weapon was knocked aside and the greatsword went by, less than a finger's length from her face. Before she could react her breath left her and her body doubled over from a pommel blow to the stomach. She bent right into Minsc's elbow, which smashed into her face and sent her flying backwards.

For a big guy he was fast.

Ashura's limbs were limp when she fell to the dirt at the bottom of the pit. Minsc could have finished her there with a swipe of his sword, but she had merely been an obstacle in his path, and his shadow simply passed over her.

Blinking back bright spots and swimming vision, Ashura tried to push up off of her back, elbows scraping in the dirt. Edwin had begun to chant something the moment Minsc had appeared, and now light flashed from his position at the corner of Ashura's vision. The flash was followed instantly by the earsplitting sound of steel grinding against something rough and unyielding.

A heartbeat later as Ashura found her feet there was another screech and a shower of sparks, accompanied by a howl of rage from Minsc. There was still a sword in Ashura's left hand but all she did was turn until her back was to the steps and begin to shrink away. She felt blood trickling over her mouth and there was a fierce stinging in her nose.

Edwin's skin and clothing had all turned a dark grey color crisscrossed with stony indentations, and he seemed bulkier than he had been before, though his motions were fluid. The second skin of stone that protected him already bore two long, deep gouges where bits of rock were flaking off.

Hoisting his sword Minsc brought it down again as Edwin barked out another spell, calling a shimmer of faint blue energy into the air between his hands. The greatsword swept down and struck the barrier, which slowed the blade but didn't prevent the impact. The blow sent Edwin reeling back and pressed him to the far wall, barely on his feet, as more bits of stone flakes fell to the dirt. He scowled, eyes searching the room as the berserker advanced on him.

The next spell out of Edwin's mouth was quick and simple. At the wall behind him a pinprick of light appeared and instantly grew into a human-sized pool. It seemed liquid at first glance; though the more one looked the more it appeared to be a thousand shards of reflective glass colliding. Edwin simply backed into the pool and it swallowed him up and closed down into a point of light that winked out.

With another ear-splitting screech Minsc's sword struck the wall where Edwin had stood. Seeing no foe the berserker whirled around and Ashura's heart caught in her throat as she hopped up a couple of steps, her sword raised.

Minsc ignored her, advancing towards the chained witch instead. He raised his sword. Had he lost all sense? Is he going to-

Sparks flew and metal screamed as the greatsword hacked through one of the chains that held Dynaheir to the pole. Another slash and her arms were free, broken chains dangling from the manacles at her wrists. Minsc drove his sword into the floor and caught the witch as she slumped forward.

Instantly the fire and fury seemed to leave Minsc's eyes, and he said something in a tongue Ashura did not know to Dynaheir, his tone sorrowful. She replied in the same language, voice rough and head shaking weakly. As they talked and Minsc passed the witch his waterskin Ashura backed a few more steps up the logs, her sword still interposed. She sensed a presence behind her and turned slightly. Branwen and Imoen stood just above her on the spiraling steps. She wondered how long they had been there, watching the scene.

Once Dynaheir was standing steady on her feet and massaging her sore arms Minsc turned towards Ashura and she found herself taking a deep breath and lifting her sword higher, but Minsc seemed to be seeing her for the first time. "Ladies!" he bellowed. "You have all made it through to witness fair Dynaheir's rescue. All but that treacherous wizard." He glanced up and around the edge of the pit. "And if I or Boo ever catch sight of him again he shall feel my WRATH!" The last word echoed through the empty ruins.

Branwen and Imoen were descending into the pit now and Ashura had no choice but to walk down ahead of them on the narrow path, log by log. Dynaheir studied her coldly, silent for now. Branwen's armored scales were battered and missing in places but she seemed unhurt beneath, and Imoen looked untouched, having managed to keep the gnolls a bowshot away.

"You're hurt," Minsc stated as he loomed over Ashura.

She looked aside, the back of her hand wiping a stream of blood away from her nose. "Yeah," she said. "You kind of…"

"Me?" Minsc asked with a confused look on his face. The little brown rodent he kept as a pet climbed from his sleeve and onto one of his shoulder-guards, close to an ear. Its beady little eyes watched Ashura silently for a moment. "Ah," Minsc said in realization. "Boo says that when I rushed down the steps to rescue my witch you were standing at the bottom, in my way and doing nothing. So I had to push you aside. No doubt that villainous wizard had put you under some sort of spell."

Actually you nearly split me from cap to groin with that greatsword of yours, Ashura thought but held her tongue. Instead she glanced over at Dynaheir, waiting for condemnation.

Instead the witch nodded slightly. "Indeed. She must have been under some sort of spell," the witch agreed, though the look she gave Ashura was cold as an ice dragon's breath.

Ashura shrugged. "Guess so. Sorry." It felt a bit feeble and she found herself studying her boots, but the moment passed. Soon Imoen was trying to pick the locks of Dynaheir's manacles and Branwen was tending to the witch's wounds. With that done the rest walked up and out of the pit. Ashura was the last to climb the log steps out into the light, her gaze lingering on her new ring before she did. She had come out somewhat ahead, all things considered. At least until the witch decides to throw a fireball at my backside. Or the red mage shows up again.

Well, it was all the damned ranger's fault for not even offering a reward for his precious witch. It was a poor excuse, she knew. But she clung to it.

For Ashura the return journey through the Cloudpeaks had been tense. They all expected to see the bright red robes again, and she had been sure to stay as far from Dynaheir as she could. As her, Imoen and the witch sat beside the campfire the first night of their journey the uncomfortable mood in the air was made worse by something else: throaty grunts and cries echoing from the forest; far away, but not far enough away. Despite Edwin still being loose it seemed someone was in the mood to celebrate their victory. The three women fiddled their way through their evening routines, stiff-backed and pretending not to hear.

Along with her journal Dynaheir's spellbook had been taken by the red wizard, but her remaining bags contained enough scrolls and empty books for her to transcribe what she had memorized and add some new spells, consulting a bit with Imoen along the way. She was hard at work with her new book now, the tome opened wide and pressed close to her face. As trilling moans in a thick Norheim accent reached their ears she cringed, visibly embarrassed and obviously trying to bury her head in the book.

Imoen on the other hand was sharpening her dagger by the fire and trying unsuccessfully to suppress a series of giggles. Ashura had kind of assumed that Minsc and Dynaheir were a couple when they first met, but apparently not. She didn't seem particularly jealous either. Just embarrassed and annoyed. Those seemed to be emotions Minsc brought out a lot in her.

The cries finally seemed to die away and Ashura absentmindedly poked a log in the fire pit, sending up a trail of lazy cinders. Maybe they had finally finished-

And then the loudest cry yet echoed through the trees, audible enough to hear the words. "Ohhh…Myyy…Heeeeeeeeerrrrrrroooooooo!" the northerner's voice cried out, crystal clear in the still night air.

Imoen burst out laughing and doubled over.

Author's Note: I worry a little that the way I ended up resolving this storyline might come off as a bit convenient and contrived, but it just felt like the right place to take it. Minsc is this little story-arc's Hero, after all.

Also I swear when I started writing this story months ago the last thing on my mind was pairing Branwen and Minsc. It just sort of happened.