Second Interlude – The Deathbringer's Lover
The pounding of rain against the lead-lined glass and the crash of thunder stirred Tamoko from her sleep. A storm had finally rolled in from the sea to clear the muggy air. On reflex she rolled to her side and slung an arm behind her. Her fingers searched the sheets for the comforting bulk of her lover, but found only cooling fabric. Rolling over fully she waited for another flash of lightning to brighten the room, but it only illuminated Cythandria's golden hair and pale back on the far side of the bed. The other woman mumbled something in her sleep and tugged at the covers before settling.
Tamoko pondered the sorceress for a moment. Inviting her into their bed had been a thrill, at first, but the notion was growing sour now. The first few nights the three had relished each other's company, but more and more Cythandria seemed only concerned with his pleasure, and turned a cold and dismissive shoulder to Tamoko. Perhaps her perception was colored by jealousy, but she could not shake the feeling that Cythandria very much wanted to play the favorite and usurp her place at her the Deathbringer's side.
Now would be the perfect time to slit the sorceress' throat in her sleep. Would he even mind overmuch? The sight might even bring a laugh to the Deathbringer's lips. He could have a very cruel sense of humor, and often complimented her when she showed 'initiative.' But no, it was not her place to decide Cythandria's fate. Tamoko had told him herself that a god deserves a harem, and she would not go back on her word now and start dismantling it.
So instead Tamoko climbed from the silken sheets and wrapped a black robe about her before leaving the shared bedchamber. Besides the rain buffeting the roof the apartments were still and silent this late past middark, and there was no sign of anyone else awake as she walked the hall. On cool marble floor and rich carpets she padded quietly to the door of the master bedroom and carefully tried it.
Rieltar, the master of the tower, was away on business. Whenever he was gone his son would spend hours going over his father's papers and correspondence at the great mahogany desk in the master bedroom. He claimed he had to make sure that his father was not hiding or leaving out any key part of the plots they were both embroiled in. Tamoko suspected that her lover also simply liked to claim the lavish study whenever he could because it was the true throne atop the tower, a throne he intended to claim when the time was right.
She knew her lover well: Sarevok was there at the desk, illuminated by several tallow candles. His gruff, dark eyes gave her a brief glance before returning to the pile of correspondence spread out before him.
Carpet whispered beneath her feet as Tamoko crossed the room, passing by an unlit brazier. She waved a hand and spoke a word, and a fire leapt to life there, brightening the room a bit. When she reached him she laid a gentle hand upon his broad shoulder. Sarevok hadn't bothered to dress, and though he was less intimidating without his dark warpaint and spiked platemail he still cut an impressive form; broad and thickly muscled, and even without the mystical glow his eyes took on when he was clad in his bespelled armor there was a certain smolder to them. Every movement he made had the ease and precision of a great hunting cat, his head was shaved completely to bare the arcane tattoo Winksy had placed upon his forehead, and his dusky skin was crisscrossed with dozens of raised scars.
Her fingertips lightly traced the upraised skin of a scar that ran from his shoulder to the upper portion of his chest. Like most of the marks upon him she remembered when and where he had taken the wound. She was reminded of each battle, each victory, every time she felt the rough skin beneath her fingers as she caressed with desire or clawed and clung at him with pleasure.
"You worry overmuch about that web of schemes," Tamoko said. "Come back to bed. Rest will do you more good than eyestrain by candlelight."
Sarevok gave something between a snort and a chuckle, lips curling slightly. "Hm. Normally you would be right, but," he tapped two parchments on the desk before him, "the new letter that arrived tonight paints an unsettling picture. I cannot shake the feeling that the 'webs' may be unraveling."
Tamoko bent down and peered over his shoulder for a time before shaking her head. She spoke Chondathan and a smattering of Alzheod well enough, but she was still slow at piecing together the letters of this foreign land.
Catching on Sarevok placed a finger over one of the papers. It appeared to be a broadsheet. He pointed to a blurb of text near the bottom. "We've known for a while that Mulahey was dead and his operation shattered. But this story claims that the adventurers who killed him were celebrated on the first day of the Nashkel Spring Fair. Among some…colorful descriptions of the goings on at the fair it says that the 'heroes' of Nashkel were two young women named Imoen and Ashura, and an unnamed elf from Everska."
Tamoko's eyebrows rose. "Ashura? The girl who fled into the forest?"
He nodded. "You can't always believe what you read in broadsheets, but that's hardly a common name. And no coincidence. Remember that she was raised by the Harpers. I had hoped the spoiled little girl would be eaten by wolves out there, but she was not, and it seems she knows something of our plan and is pulling at the threads. "
Sarevok moved his finger to the other piece of parchment. "A letter, saying that the Black Talon courier Tranzig has not reported back to the company. He was Mulahey's only contact, and his name and location were known to the orc. I cannot shake the feeling that she's following the trail, and that next it will lead to Tazok or Davaeorn. Most likely Tazok."
Tamoko nodded. There was something left unsaid, something bothering him, and from the venom he put into the words 'little girl' and 'she' it was easy enough to make the guess. She knew that Sarevok would never admit it but Ghostwalker's prophesy had gotten to him. The orc's magic and spear had failed to pierce the Deathbringer's armor, but the honesty of his words had.
'…a Lady of Murder…'
"I remember the brat from my time in Candlekeep," Sarevok added. "Both brats in fact. Imoen and Ashura were inseparable then, and they seem to still be."
"I can guess at the personality of one who was raised by a Harper. She must have annoyed you."
He snorted. "You would hardly know that from meeting her, actually. She was…hm…perhaps sixteen at the time so you could write it off to the age, but I don't know if I've ever met such a grumpy, headstrong little girl in my life. You could get her to glare at you or kick something over and stomp off with the slightest effort." He chuckled, eyes far away.
Sarevok would never admit it but a part of him seemed to have enjoyed his time masquerading as a scribe in Candlekeep. 'Just a means to an end,' he would gruffly say if you asked, but unraveling mysteries in quiet study surrounded by high-minded peers had calmed him, for a time.
"The other girl was the opposite," he added after a moment. "Playful and silly to the point of annoyance. She called me 'Kovey,' when she was being friendly. 'Young Scowly-Face' when she was not. Ulraunt was 'Old Scowly-Face.' I suppose the one thing the two girls had in common was that they were both wild and out of place in a citadel full of stuffy scribes." A frown grew on his face and he went silent for a time, staring into the flame of a nearby candle.
After the silence had hung over them long enough Tamoko broke it with a question. "Love? What is it?"
"Nothing," he muttered in a very unconvinced voice. "Just a strange thought that…" He shook his head and repeated: "Nothing." He pushed himself from the chair and stood.
"I have an augur prepared," Tamoko stated quietly, "to seek out Yaga-Shura. I could train it elsewhere this morning and search for the girl instead."
Sarevok stood there for a time, giving her suggestion serious thought. In the end he shook his head slightly. "A young fire giant grows more dangerous by the day. The bounties will suffice for the lesser children." Naked and sure of himself now, he strode towards the door. "You were right. I've much to do and many decisions to make, and tiring myself staring at papers will do no good." He did not turn around to check if she was following, simply left the master bedroom and turned towards his own quarters.
She had taken a few steps forward to follow but as her lover disappeared Tamoko paused beside the lapping flames of the brazier. After a moment's thought she turned and sat down, closer to the fire. The familiar searing warmth struck her face as the hypnotic flicker danced before her eyes.
In the monasteries and temples of The Way the old masters always stressed finding balance between the elements. That was the path to true wisdom, they said, but many of the young or more ambitious practitioners knew that finding strength in a single element was a quicker path to power.
Fire had always called to Tamoko. It had guided her in fact, along a wild path, to where she sat today, through a combination of the fires of war, augur flames, and funeral pyres. Seeking war-fires for a living as a mercenary, along with a general restlessness, had led her across strange lands, and eventually to the smoldering gaze of her love.
She still remembered the old teachings and secrets of The Way. If need be she could seek Istishia's wisdom in a bowl of water, knock a foe off his feet with Akadi's fury, or protect herself with the stony resoluteness of Grumbar, but her true strength would always lie in the flames of Kossuth.
Sarevok had told her to save her scrying spell for the target of their next great hunt, and she would. But there were other kinds of augurs available to her, and looking now into the heart of the flame Tamoko felt…no, knew that this was the time to use one of her most potent.
Focusing on the crackling fire she took long, measured breaths. Gradually the dancing and swirling of the flame went to the periphery of her vision and faded altogether, till all she saw was the pure white-hot heart of it. It was a gateway, she saw, to a realm of unimaginable heat and unending potential energy. At the secret heart of all fire there was no time, no space. Infinite energy, infinite potential, all held in a finite little point of light that seared its mark into her mind's eye.
Communing with the flame she asked it a single question: what the future held for her love. Emptying herself of all thoughts she let the fire answer, let it burn the images into her mind.
When Tamoko came to with needles in her legs and bright spots before her eyes the rain had ceased its pounding on the window and the fire had died down. She shook her head and a worried frown appeared and deepened upon her face. Peering into the flames of prescience had drained her greatly and left her with much to ponder; so many jumbled, uncertain images. Most of them had been unpleasant, though. She could not deny that.
Wobbling and unsteady she forced herself to her feet and warily made her way back to the bedchamber. Sarevok lay on his side, chest against Cythandria's back and his arm draped over, but when Tamoko shrugged off her robe and pressed herself up against her love she felt his fingers sleepily twine with hers as he took her hand. She smiled in the darkness and squeezed a little, grateful for his solid presence against her body.
There had to be a way to keep him like this, whole and solid and warm and together with her. The visions had been muddled and uncertain but she could not shake the feeling that they had been visions of ruin, brought about by his hard-headed arrogance and pride. There had to be a way to change that. There had to be a way to guide him down a different path.
Author's Note: I'm probably breaking with Kara-Tur lore a bit but I like the idea of The Way being vaguely Taoist, with elemental priests. It's my explanation for why Tamoko uses a fire spell at the beginning of the game, at least.
Also you'd never know it in the game but Tamoko is supposed to be neutral evil. I kind of like the idea and am writing her that way. Evil people fall in love too you know.