Author's Note: The subject of this chapter is maybe a bit dark, though in a way perhaps less dark than the scene from the games that it's based on. Suffice it to say children in a dangerous temple devoted to an evil god are involved.
Third Interlude – The Good Father
Nightal 9, 1352 D.R.
That it had come to this.
Gorion stood, stiff-backed and for the moment safe, in the eye of a hurricane. Gleaming bones and tattered, rust-stained armor twitched and lunged all around him; half-a-dozen walking skeletons tapping their ancient weapons against his sphere of protective force.
Elsewhere in the press a great silver bear loomed above the dancing bones and shattered more and more of them with angry swipes of its paws. A few of the screeching, empty-eyed undead fought back with awkward strokes of their pikes, though most struggled against tendrils of darkness that had risen from the floor to entwine them.
In addition to the constricting tentacles, the red tiles at Gorion's feet were charred in places; burnt and blasted corpses laying close by. Mixed with the fresh bodies of fallen human guards were the half-rotten remains of ghouls and wights, along with the dusty outlines of summoned creatures, now dissolved. The remains of everything the priests could throw at him, when he had first come bounding into the room. Now only the sturdy skeletons and his summoned celestial bear remained.
Somewhere behind him Gorion could hear the sounds of an even fiercer battle: shouts, crackles, ringing steel and booming explosions. His companions were fighting through a legion of undead, along with the priests and cultists who controlled them. They had been separated moments ago, when he had raced past the bulk of the enemy with a space-bending spell, ignoring his companions and determined to reach the central chamber as fast as possible.
He simply had to. Had to see her.
Face upturned, Gorion ignored the raging melee in the great temple's inner chamber, his eyes focused on the raised platform ahead. Focused on the woman who stood upon it's edge, her icy-blue eyes locked with his. Bare toes peaked out from the hem of her robe and over the ledge, and her hood had slid back slightly to reveal sharply combed black hair. Her arms were crossed at her chest, pale, spindly fingers curled and clenched; her lips pressed together tightly, trembling with anger and frustration.
"I told you not to follow," the woman intoned in an icy voice that echoed from the domed ceiling and easily found Gorion's ears above the crack of bone and the roar of the bear. "Begged and threatened. Told you in a thousand ways, that last day in Silverymoon. And you agreed!"
Great pillars of blackened stone buttressed the corners of the chamber, one at either side of the raised platform, and in front of each pillar stood a row of towering statues. They were robed and clasping stylized scythes that doubled as supports for the red-and-black tiled ceiling high above. The temple's darkened walls were carved in the patterns of skulls and bones, chaotic and beyond counting, and piled floor to ceiling to create the illusion of an impossibly large mass grave.
There were other figures on the platform behind the woman; four men and two women in decorative robes of gilded black. Armor glinted beneath the outer clothes of some, and others were bedecked in enchanted jewelry and accessories that marked them as sorcerers. Behind the six adults huddled more figures; tiny, cowering and dressed in simpler hooded robes.
At the center of the platform stood an altar: a long basalt slab with curled, boney talons carved from its corners and ringed at the bottom with grinning skulls. Lines of burning braziers threw harsh, flickering firelight across the whole front of the temple, pungent smoke rising up to dance and curl before the great stone disk that loomed above it all. Emblazoned upon its face was the death's-head symbol of Bhaal.
"I did agree," Gorion admitted, trying not to clench his teeth. "But my superiors made no such vow to you, Alianna. And when they learned of this place…" He gestured towards the robed children hiding behind the skirts of the priests. "The sacrifice you're planning. You cannot expect them not to interfere."
"Them? No, but…" She shook her head. "There's no point. It was foolish of me to even ask back then. It's your job to interfere. It was mine as well, when your masters needed dirty work done."
Gorion did not deny that.
"And your masters sent you because they thought you might talk me out of this? Or at least give me pause?"
"They did."
"You know me better than that."
He swallowed. "I do."
A swish of her robe and she turned from the edge and took a few steps, nearing the altar. "Then there is little more to say. Besides reminding you that your interference forced this moment." The tiny figures in black robes stumbled forward now, prodded on by the stone-faced priests and mages. "The ritual could have waited years, since many of the children are not yet ready. But you forced our hand."
The last of the animated skeletons broke with a soft crunch, and the celestial bear turned and eyed the platform warily, its coat matted with blood and the silver that remained glowing with a pale light. Some of the priests had their fingers out and ready, though for now both parties held their spells back. Of course all that would change when the sphere of force wore off. It was a spell that kept Gorion safe, but kept him from acting as well. And they all knew it. A few moments now.
"You know I cannot let you sacrifice children," Gorion stated softly.
Each of the little figures, eight in all, had fanned out around the altar, though the smaller ones still clung to each other. Most looked nervous and confused, but there was stony determination in the eyes of the eldest three. The tallest among them was an adolescent girl, her ebony skin and the silver hair that spilled out from her cowl marking her as a drow. The other two were human boys, one with bronze skin and the other a darker shade of brown, both perhaps seven or eight years old. The rest of the children were quite a bit smaller, some mere toddlers who fidgeted as the others held them.
Alianna gave Gorion a puzzled look. "What? I thought you were smarter than that, Ion." She shook her head, then took a deep breath and turned her face up towards the great symbol of Bhaal. Her hands rose, palms open.
The pits of blackness in the carved skull flared to life and a shimmer grew in the air. All the fidgeting, uncertainty and restlessness left the children then, and they stood as straight and still as the temple acolytes they were dressed as. Gorion noticed faint wisps of light appear beneath their hoods, tiny sparks of the same glowing orange that burned in the eyes of the skull.
The furnace glow. The fires of Gehenna.
The smoky tendrils from the braziers seemed to grow more substantial, connecting the floor to the great skull and flooding the chamber with the inescapable smell of incense. There was pinewood in the smoke, and bonemeal and myrrh, along with the unmistakable scent of the black lotus.
"My Lord has great plans for his children. Why would he sacrifice them now?" The eldest three had reached to their belts, and in the firelight daggers gleamed. "Some are not yet ready because their hands are too clumsy for knives." The dancing flames in the eye of the skull grew, billowing up to the temple ceiling, and all the children were holding blades now, heavy in their tiny hands. "But all my little ones shall try. You see, they are not to be sacrificed. They are to be blooded."
Alianna tugged at her black robes, shrugging them away and letting them fall beside the altar. She wore nothing beneath; no symbol or jewelry or even a tie to bind the long black hair that spilled across her shoulders. Just pale, smooth skin; an unadorned sacrifice. Gorion's eyes widened as he realized the implications, his fingers reflexively stretching in preparation for a spell.
But behind the conjured sphere of force he could do nothing. It protected him from the world and shut him out at once.
Sitting down upon the cold slab of basalt, Alianna continued. "Each of these children has called me mother, since they were gathered and brought here. I have raised them, and taught the eldest my Lord's ways. And with their mother's end they shall be prepared for the next steps of the Lord of Murder's plan." She slipped her legs up and stretched across the altar, the hooded children forming a semicircle around and each clutching their tiny blades.
Firelight flickered from beneath the hoods, and in that moment they seemed more like imps than children. Little devils, that one day might grow large. Each little arm raised a dagger, all glinting like fangs beneath the watchful eyes of the great skull. Their father. Guiding them through.
As he watched in slack-jawed horror Gorion remembered one of the warnings Alianna had given, that day four years ago in Silverymoon. 'I beg you, Ion. If you seek me out you will see a side of me that you've always willfully ignored. Best to leave it be.'
Gorion's fingers kept twitching, watching the altar through the shimmering sphere. Many possible spells had raced through his mind at first; ways that he might stop this. He had dismissed them all. All but one.
That it had come to this.
As the sphere wavered and blinked out of existence Gorion's hand shot forward and he barked out the words as swiftly as he could. Sharp green light formed on his fingertip, and in that instant he remembered the Hunter's Gate and the last embrace he and Alianna had shared.
That had been the bittersweet parting he would have preferred as their last. Not this.
But the spell had left his lips, and with a will of its own the streak of energy leapt from his finger and flew across the chamber, striking Alianna in the side. In less than the blink of an eye her pale skin had burned away as the green fire consumed her body, briefly revealing blackened bones before all became dust and settled upon the altar.
Not the parting he had wished for, but there it was.
But as the children's knives hovered unsteadily in the air and the flames gutted out in the eyes of the skull Gorion had no time let it sink in. All six of the remaining acolytes of Bhaal were angrily chanting now.
Protective words rasped from Gorion's lips, and at the same time the celestial bear interposed itself between its master and the altar. Gouts of flame and bolts of shimmering force tore into the beast, and with a painted cry it dissolved into sparkling fragments, then dust.
The rest of the magical assault passed through but faltered against the spellward Gorion had hastily erected. By then he had pressed his hands together to unleash a counterattack: a bolt of empowered arcane fire that blazed like a star, streaked like comet, and exploded in the midst of the acolytes. Three of them threw their heads back and screamed as their bodies became pillars of fire, and the rest scattered back, magical protections shimmering.
A running battle ensued, Gorion diving for the cover of one of the great statues and exchanging spell after spell with the robed servants of Bhaal; shimmering waves of white anti-magic, snaking bolts of lighting, storms of force, and orbs of quivering air that exploded into deafening sonic blasts all streaked between them. In the din and the fire and the chaos the panicked screams of the children were drowned out, the older three clutching at the little ones and pushing them away from the battle and towards the shelter of a pillar.
A green ray much like the one that had slain Alianna narrowly missed Gorion and turned the feet and lower portion of the nearby statue to dust. With a rumble and a groan it teetered a little and Gorion found himself running for his life, slipping back behind the next bit of cover he could find. He used one of his wands to throw a blast of electricity at the mage who had tried to vaporize him, the bolt sizzling harmlessly off magical protections but carving great cracks into the nearby pillar.
The mage upon the platform scowled and took aim for another spell, but something streaked from the darkness behind him before it was complete. Long white hair waved by, along with a scimitar that cleaved the bhaalite's head cleanly off his shoulders. Gorion caught a glimpse of Lucette, her narrow elven face shooting him a grin and her multihued chaincoat glimmering in the firelight.
Then the view was obscured by the shattered stone of the statue collapsing between them and taking a great deal of the ceiling with it. Gorion turned and shielded his face from the wave of dust and debris that followed. When the sound of falling stone had abated he called up a minor wind-spell to clear the air and looked about frantically.
There was an angry rumble everywhere, stone groaning as more and more pieces of the temple gave way. Disoriented, Gorion guessed at a direction to run and took it. He had a teleportation spell prepared, but he had to at least grab Lucette first. Not to mention-
Passing the broken arm of a statue he came upon a fleeing child, the little boy or girl's hood thrown back and eyes scrunched up, bawling uncontrollably and running blindly. Gorion turned towards the terrified little thing, but before he could close the distance a hewn-off section of pillar dropped right in front of him, forcing him to scramble back.
The child vanished with a blast of dust, screams drowned out by the thunder-crack of the stone striking the floor. A breath later the dust-cloud rushed up and away, revealing a smear of blood and blackened bits that peaked from beneath the pillar and left little doubt as to what had happened.
Gorion's jaw fell and his eyes went wide with horror, sitting on the tiles where he had tumbled backwards. A pang of guilt tightened in his guts as well, stronger than the shock. Before it could overwhelm him he forced himself to his feet.
He had to do something!
Frantically casting his eyes about, he saw little but clouds of debris and falling rock, rumbles and nerve-wracking cracks echoing everywhere. Low sobbing drew his attention, and he rushed around another piece of broken statue, coming upon two much smaller children in dusty robes.
They were toddlers -four at most- and they clung tightly to each other, one with a mop of tangled red hair and a face buried against the shoulder of the other. The second child was not yet crying, but standing still and staring out at nothing, eyes wide with terror and shock.
As Gorion raced towards the children those eyes looked right into his, pale, icy-blue, set in a fair-skinned face and framed by messy black hair.
Alianna's eyes. He recognized them instantly.
Then the child closed those eyes, threw its head back and a tremor went through its face, lips quivering. When Gorion reached them the child was bawling hysterically, and he wrapped his arms around them both, instinctively placing his back and shoulders between the children and the cracking ceiling.
"Gorion!" A thick Tethyrian accent. He looked up to see Jaheira leap a fallen pillar, Khalid's armored form close behind. More crashing all around, and everywhere beyond them was a cloud of dust. "We must escape!" the half-elven woman insisted as she closed the distance.
He simply nodded and produced both hands, his arms encircling the huddled children. His spell would not be able to carry much more weight anyway. Hopefully the others had fled.
When Jaheira and Khalid grasped his hands Gorion took a rough breath and sang out a spell. "Siltir varak – keev." The rumbling suddenly vanished and all around them the world was silent and blank; nothing but countless subtly different shades of brown and grey. Gorion shut his eyes up tight, knowing from experience that to look too closely at that void would strain your vision and make your stomach churn.
A heartbeat later color and sound rushed back in around them, and he opened his eyes to see the billowing brown field waver into the shape of snowcapped trees beneath faint clouds and dusty winter stars. They were outdoors in a clearing, at the meeting spot where they had first planned the assault upon the temple. In the distance the deep voice of an owl 'whoed,' and light, chill wind rustled through the pines.
Khalid turned away and bent over, coughing and gagging. Apparently he had looked while they were shifting. For some reason he always did.
The two children simply continued to sob against Gorion's breast. He shifted his cloak a bit so it encircled them and simply let them cry.
By the time Lucette, Dermin and Meronia had found them the tears had run their course and Jaheira had examined the two children for injuries. They were silent and sullen now, red rimmed eyes staring out at the winter's night as they hugged their shoulders tightly.
Two little girls, one with dark blue eyes, rust-red hair and a Chondathan cast to her big round face. The other looked Damaran, like Alianna, and continued to remind Gorion for all the world of her. It was the eyes mostly. Not baby-blue, but a rare, light shade, and though they were wide with youth and fear there was something sharp about them.
Once again Gorion remembered that last day together; the evening mist that rolled in off the river shrouding the trees beyond the Hunter's Gate. They had not seen each other for over a season prior, and had spent the day quietly walking the city streets and talking of anything and everything but themselves and their current lot in life. Alianna had smiled and laughed at times, though it felt a little forced, and she often looked sickly, at one point growing pale and excusing herself shortly after the midday meal.
When evening had fallen she had led the way to the city gates and finally spoke of what lay between them, though she would not tell him precisely why she had disappeared those months ago and why she was disappearing again.
"We who serve the gods must pay a price for the power they give us. It is simply my time to pay, Ion. And you know what sort of god I serve."
"Of course, but I just wish you'd tell me-"
She had stroked his arm as she interrupted him. "Always so curious." A chuckle. "A scholar and investigator. But really, it's for the best you don't know. There were always things about me you tried to stay willfully ignorant of."
"I don't remember it that way," he had protested. "You know what I said that first time in Calimport. 'I know how dangerous you are. We need someone dangerous for this mission.'"
She had laughed at that, as they walked arm in arm to the gate. "And all those times you shrugged and said: 'The Harpers have always employed assassins.' Good times." She had stopped and turned, looking up into his eyes. "But let's leave it at that please?" Slipping her arms under his, they had shared a last embrace beneath the lintel of the Hunter's Gate.
Gorion's brows had furrowed after a time, noticing the slightly rounded shape of Alianna's belly beneath her loose grey dress. It had been almost imperceivable, but he had known every curve of her body very well. Once. And she had acted nauseous several times that day…
As he had pulled away their eyes had met again. "Alianna…" he had whispered. "Is…is it?"
She had shaken her head and disengaged from him. "It's not your child." A step back. "It's a matter between me and my god. The price I told you of." A wistful look. "You're smart Ion. You'll figure it out. Just do not follow. Trust me, you don't want to see where I'm going." And with that she had turned and began to trudge towards the mists and the trees beyond.
That strange speech had left him baffled at the time; too confused to respond, or to shout at her back and try to stop her. And perhaps a part of him had also been content to let her go. They had been apart for months, and growing distant before that. She seemed to have another man now too -the father of the child- and he had busied himself with other things. Time to let go.
A little research into the church of Bhaal and then into Alaundo's prophesies had cast a new light on Alianna's parting words. It was easy enough to discern who the father of the child had been. More than a little horrifying too. She had been right. He really didn't want to see. Unfortunately the Harpers had other plans.
Kneeling beside the two robed children, Jaheira stroked their hair, whispering calming words. After a time she turned to Gorion and gave him a questioning look. "Her eyes," she observed in a low voice, seeing just what he had, "look just like Alianna's. Is this..?" A probing look now, and a little silence. Then, as was her way, Jaheira just went ahead and said it: "Is this your daughter?"
Gorion shook his head. "Not mine," he said with little emotion, though a deep frown grew on his goateed face, and he gave the two shivering, terrified little girls a ponderous look. In the tendays that were to come he deliberated a lot over what to do with the children, but in truth the decision was made then and there.
Author's Note: Technically disintegrating your mom right in front of you probably disqualifies someone from the title of 'Good father.' But after that I think Gorion put in his best effort.
And in case you didn't guess: the three older children were indeed Sendai, Balthazar and Sarevok, and the three extra Harpers mentioned appear in Jaheira's Baldur's Gate 2 quest.