Chapter 9: Conflicting Morality

"Elatharia was correct," Viconia surmised after only a short perusal of the first few houses of what had once been Windspear Hamlet, "No giant-kin, orc-kin or goblinkind could have done this. Not in concert, even."

She picked her way carefully over the first ripple in the buckled road, her yellow cloak turned inside-out to help veil her against detection in the darkness, Haer'Dalis a silent form at her side wrapped in his own plain dark cloak. The sky was cloudless and sparkled with stars but was thankfully void of its moon, Selune and her Tears. Any unnecessary light would have impeded the drow's infravision a little – and after the events of the night before she would prefer to have the upper hand.

The hamlet was no less of a ruin than it had seemed from above. The road was so cracked in places that it was easier to move through the broken houses than struggle over the wide rends in the paving. The charred stumps of wooden houses were groaning under their own weight even now, suggesting that the destruction was fairly recent, the farmland around all drifting ash and scorched earth, a scar in the land that cut into the forest across the water. And of course there were the bodies, half-seen now as they had cooled to match the rest of the matter on the ground, all of it naught but ash really.

"It is a chaotic scene, is it not, my Blackbird?" Haer'Dalis noted softly, careful to keep his voice as quiet as hers, "I suppose all things end, but sometimes…sometimes chaos and cruelty are too closely entwined by madmen. Tis a blasphemy of sorts, I suppose."

He sounded disappointed rather than sad, his hand brushing against her elbow as she stepped over another crack in the pavement. She sent him a glare for the innocent touch and caught his thoughtful expression upon a charred crib. She had intended to scold him for his forwardness, but Elatharia's words came back to her. He was not a drow, and he would not behave like one – even if Viconia expected him to. No drow she had ever known would have looked at any crib so…sadly.

"Who could have done this?" her question sounded forced and she made a point of rubbing at her healing leg as if it were troubling her. Better that weakness than he 'mistake' her tone.

Haer'Dalis frowned slightly at her words, watching her face now as if he might find the answer there while his hand moved over the doorframe within which he stood. Ash came away on his fingertips and he rubbed it between finger and thumb absently.

"Someone or something of great power I fear," he admitted softly – his deep voice still carried a little more than was preferable and Viconia automatically shushed him, gesturing at the road ahead. He nodded and stepped closer; it seemed an innocent enough response, for he pushed his hands now into his pockets, his eyes on the ground over her shoulder as he thought, "It has been some time since I witnessed such destruction. 'Twould take an army of wizards or sorcerers to do such. Unless what we may face is the avatar of some god then this humble Sparrow's best guess would be…" his words were no more than a voiceless whisper now and he paused upon the last word, his eyes turning to watch hers, awaiting her completion of his sentence.

"A dragon," Viconia finished, stifling a groan, wringing her gloved hands in momentary frustration before looking back up at Haer'Dalis's face. By Shar, did he really have to stand so close? But she forged on, aware that this was an attitude she had just promoted and that it was actually more prudent in order to discuss their ideas less audibly, "This is hardly something Elatharia will want to hear."

"You sound frustrated rather than afraid, my Blackbird," for his part, Haer'Dalis looked rather amused, his lips curling up and his eyes dancing, "You wear Shadow Dragon Scale armour, do you not? You have evidently fought such creatures before. And unless I am mistaken…the group you now travel in is stronger and greater in number than before."

"Still, it is hardly a battle I would desire to repeat," Viconia pointed out, turning and starting to move out of the hamlet. Once they were closer to the treeline, heading around the ruin to scout a little way beyond and see if they had missed anything, she turned back to the tiefling and narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, "Could it not be an army of mages? A squadron of devils? Must it really be another dragon?"

Haer'Dalis chuckled under his breath, watching her with delighted amusement.

"You have a wicked wit, my Blackbird. As if you would rather face such horrors than one dragon!"

Though he sounded happy enough – or at least as happy as one man whispering could – there was a tale behind those words he had chosen. For a moment Viconia fell into the trap, searching his face for the answer. A moment passed before she noticed his smile had fallen somewhat and he was watching her with a similar intensity. She jumped with a hiss when his bare fingertips brushed so very lightly against her cheek.

"I said I had wished to see you as you truly are, my Blackbird," Haer'Dalis reminded, his thumb drifting along her jaw and to the point of her chin slowly, a small smile returning as his eyes lingered upon her lips, "And now I have, for several days. I understand your scornful words to this poor Sparrow. I named you beautiful in your false Surface form," his eyes found hers and the look sent a heated rush through her of a kind that few kisses ever had, "And though I was not wrong, I see now that the truth was so much more than the falsity. You should never have to hide what you are, beautiful Blackbird. In any way."

His tone, his choice of words…they sent a jolt of fear running through her even as the emotional part of her wanted only to thrill. He knew! He knew! How could he know? Or so she dreaded. So with a snarl Viconia stumbled back a few steps, glaring and rubbing at her cheek as if slapped and not caressed so gently. He watched her levelly, as if prepared for this.

"Enough of this nonsense!" she hissed, "Of course you cannot fathom the beauty of drow, lesser creature that you are! You should be…you are…" his eyebrows rose expectantly as she spluttered, frustrated by his lack of hurt, "Impudent male, we must concentrate upon the task at hand!"

When she twisted back to stalk to the other end of the hamlet, she found to her horror that she could not see the way because her eyes were full to the brim with tears. The world swam before her and in wretched rage she silently cursed the tiefling and the world she must endure. When Haer'Dalis's hand closed on her shoulder she was about to whirl on him with vicious vengeance but he hushed her with a seriousness that quelled her wrath. She even allowed him to pull her from the open ground to crouch behind a charred tree as a torchlight bobbed into view from out of a narrow path in the woods not far away. It was a man, dressed in threadbare velvet and muddied boots, untidy stubble on his cheeks. He was taking in the sight of the hamlet as one who had seen it before…and was searching for something. Or someone.

"Who is it that creeps upon my land?" the unfamiliar man called, "Show yourselves, or risk the wrath of the lord of Windspear!"

Elatharia had no idea of how much time had passed. She and Jan had sat down shortly after full darkness had descended, drawing diagrams in the Illusionist's spellbook and discussing the best and quickest way to unravel the Transmutation and lingering Illusions on their 'captives'. Once the leader had sworn several oaths against violence, the paralysation and entanglement spells were dismissed and they had staggered free from their constraints with gasps of thanks. Any of the Abjurations attempted by Aerie and Edwin had failed; and so the more time-consuming and tiring process involving Elatharia and Jan had begun.

It had required much planning and some fairly unreliable assurances from the gnome before Elatharia had stood and motioned the group over. A brief discussion with Edwin had led to the Conjurer insisting that he aid her in this, no doubt to steal some of her glory. But she had accepted because in truth it was unlike any spell or magical manipulation Elatharia had ever attempted and he was the more experienced wizard.

Whoever had created this mass spell upon the transformed men was no doubt a more powerful spellcaster than herself but a few moments of concentration reaching out to the Weave had shown to her that neither the school of Illusion nor that of Transmutation came naturally to this unknown troublemaker. Unbeknownst to her the air about the two concentrating wizards had taken on an eerie magical luminescence, sparkling and fizzing about the Transmuted adventuring party with every strand that she broke or realigned. Edwin served more as a second opinion, at times a technical guide; the manoeuvres of her chosen school were infamously complex to the same degree as his school required a terrifyingly iron will. To make the appropriate gestures spontaneously under pressure was probably a step too far even for a wizard as naturally talented as Edwin.

The Transmuter was concentrating more upon the Weave and its satisfyingly neat corrected state than the real world until Aerie's startled cry cut through her concentration. With a sharp breath in she allowed her mind to fall back into the world and saw the fading light of the magic she had woven.

"How did you do that?" Aerie was exclaiming excitedly even before Elatharia's eyes had refocused, the avariel clapping her hands in delight.

Where once had stood two ogres and three hobgoblins was now a group of five well-armed and expensively armoured men wearing the pink and gold cloaks of the Order of the Radiant Heart. All of them were covered from toe to shoulder and shoulder to fingertips in plate mail that glimmering in Edwin's conjured lights, staggering a little and pulling off their plumed helmets to stare in wonder with restored sight.

Behind them Jaheira and others were watching, displaying various degrees of confusion and wonder. Aerie was fluttering at Elatharia's side, and Jan was rushing over to the restored men, chattering questions which they could barely comprehend in their dazed return to reality. Edwin was very still at her side and she was about to turn to him when the leader of the group strode up to her, his helmet under his arm and his hand outstretched to shake hers.

Looking up into this approaching man's face, Elatharia was suddenly struck by recognition. He was tall, a few inches higher than Edwin's six foot, broad shouldered and square-jawed with floppy golden hair a few shades darker than her Bhaal-induced shade. When he stepped fully under the light drifting over her head and saw her more clearly, his jaw dropped as surely as hers did.

"Ajantis?" Elatharia gasped as his outstretched hand fell limply to his side.

Edwin recoiled with a groan to see the paladin once more and retreated well away from the group to sit in thoughtful, brooding silence staring into the darkness. Ajantis blinked at her for a few more moments before responding; he had apparently not recognised the Red Wizard without his telling red robes and the shorter hair he had sported back on the Coast Way.

"E-Elatharia!" the paladin exclaimed at once, blue eyes widening, "I would never have thought to see you here! When you spoke to me before in your altered form I thought I recognised your voice, but you did not look like…yourself then."

"It was an Illusion of an ogre that I took on before," she told him as seriously as she could manage, "I imagine the Illusion holding your mind approximated what I ought to look like."

"Indeed, indeed…" he seemed lost for words, his eyes scanning over her group, which was now filtering towards him and his men, before he turned back to her with an unexpected smile, "Well! It is good to see a friendly face in this real world after all that…madness."

"We hardly parted on good terms, Ajantis," Elatharia hazarded. She could clearly recall his bitter arguments with Viconia, his open hatred of Edwin, and his eventual retreat from the party once they had destroyed the bandit camp near Baldur's Gate.

"Well…no," the paladin admitted, frowning slightly, "But you have done a good thing for my men and me today." He seemed to be overlooking her demand to pay her for this deed, and for a moment Elatharia wondered if he had forgotten…until he pulled the backpack from his shoulders and reached inside, "What is it that has you so desperate for money, may I ask?" he handed her a heavy cloth bag all the same and waved his men over wordlessly.

"My sister has been taken captive. We need the money to free her," Elatharia admitted, frowning down at the bag of gold and weighing it in her hands. Nearby Aerie's eyebrows furrowed at the sight of the exchange.

Ajantis straightened, his men clustering around them and sharing a few concerned looks at her words.

"Well!" the paladin cried, "Why did you not say so? I would give money to you gladly to help your Imoen. Especially after you have done us such a favour!"

His men agreed heartily and all delved deep into their money stores, handing her their coins and refusing her half-hearted (and poorly acted) insistence that the reward was unnecessary. Aerie's expression cleared as she came to believe that the monetary exchange had been brought on by concern for Imoen, rather than Elatharia's earlier blackmail.

"Who was it that you were working for out here, Ajantis?" she inquired after a pause, "A lord Jierdan Firkraag, perchance?"

"Indeed! The Order received a request for aid from him, and my group and I were sent out to his castle yonder," he pointed into the darkness, out in the direction of the castle on the mountain, "And not five days ago we met with him there. He told us of the monsters lurking in the woods and sent us off. Now though, when you prove to me what has befallen us – and that those who attacked us were most likely not what they seemed – I dread this evil's man's true purpose. We must not linger here too long; I must return to the Order and inform them of this immediately. They will no doubt pay you handsomely for the aid you rendered us, as well."

"Any thanks the Order can give us would be welcome," Elatharia smiled as sweetly as she knew how – though the only thanks she really could stomach would be a chest full of gold.

While Jaheira and Minsc moved to greet Ajantis, the ranger and paladin colliding in a very manly hug, Elatharia stepped back from the throng of people, dropping the coinpurses into her bag of holding for Imoen's fund. When she next raised her head she was greeted with a pounding headache, her limbs suddenly heavy and aching. The lit clearing was blurred to her tired eyes and she was rubbing at her temples and groaning wearily when Aerie touched her elbow. The avariel was watching her with a concerned frown and spoke softly now in consideration of her headache.

"Elatharia, Viconia has just returned," the part-time mage informed her, "I…believe you have mentioned Ajantis before in regards to…her heritage?"

"Oh gods!" the Transmuter's eyes widened as she realised, looking around sharply – in spite of the pain it caused her – to see the hooded figure of the dark elf lingering at the furthest fringes of the group, her eyes once more blue in the light and fixed warily upon the blonde head of Ajantis.

A few moments later and she had crossed the clearing, taken firm hold of Viconia's arm and spun her around so she had her back to Ajantis. The drow looked slightly amused by her swift action but let her weave her Transmutation upon her before speaking. It took longer than Elatharia would have liked, and her head was truly pounding by the time the magic had passed through her and reformed Viconia into a black-haired moon elf. The priestess was wise enough to avoid turning her cloak around to once more wear it with its tell-tale yellow cloth on the outer side.

"My thanks, khal'abbil," she acceded once the deed was done, "I shall endeavour to keep out of the fool's way until he leaves. This wretched form should stop him from wondering at least."

A glance around the clearing to where Ajantis and his men were exchanging greetings with the others showed to Elatharia that there was, once more, a member of their party missing.

"Tell me you did not murder Haer'Dalis, Viconia."

"Not at all," the priestess smiled widely at the thought, however, "Though the truth is a story which I would have liked to tell to the group," a glance over her shoulder toward Ajantis was explanation enough for why that would no longer be possible, "I do hope he will leave soon."

"As do I," Edwin added, coming up to join them with his hands deep in his pockets and a frown so fierce that it looked like he was intending to will the paladin on fire, "But at least you have earnings for your 'good deed'. With my help," he looked down at Elatharia expectantly and for a weary few seconds she just blinked up at him before realising what he meant.

With a sneer she delved into the bag of holding and tossed one of the coinpurses at him – the smallest, though he did not need to know that. He pocketed it without a word, his frown easing in spite of her unwillingness.

"There are other ways of paying…" Viconia began, looking between the two wizards with a mischievous look that boded anything other than well. Elatharia made a point of talking loudly over her next words and kept her eyes on the drow rather than the Red Wizard at her elbow.

"Why don't you tell us where you left the tiefling?"

"Ah, well…"

Garren Windspear had come upon Viconia and Haer'Dalis only when they chose to show themselves to him – something which the tiefling had been much more willing to the do than the drow. She had kept the hood of her cloak low and let the bard do all of the talking; though Haer'Dalis was clearly something other than human, Garren had not seemed to assume anything untoward about him. Probably.

Realising that this was the real lord of the land, and when the name of Lord Jierdan Firkraag made a dark rage well in Garren's eyes, they had been more than a little intrigued. Haer'Dalis had suggested that they take him to meet their companions, to tell his story and maybe win their aid. Garren had other ideas, and demanded that if they were to meet him it would be at his current home – and that for surety he would be keeping one of the two he had just met until such time as the larger group came to speak with him. After all, it was difficult to tell friend from foe in these parts.

So Viconia had let Haer'Dalis offer himself up; it hardly seemed wise to let a human man see her drow form. Such things had never gone well, and she was careful to keep the tiefling between herself and the man. Still, she had been required to follow them to the house first to determine where it stood before heading back alone to tell all to Elatharia. It was a cabin in a similar style to Valygar's, though a little larger; set upon one of the tall hills in the area and surrounded by a series of tiered dry motes as well as a high palisade wall at the top of the rise. It looked to be some kind of safe place for the lord, or something equally baffling to the drow.

The last she had seen of Haer'Dalis he had been standing in the open doorway after Garren had permitted him to check through the house as proof that this was no trap – once he had relinquished his weapons. The tiefling had seemed unbothered, smiling faintly at the drow before she took her leave, his arms folded before him as he leaned against the doorframe. For a fleeting moment Viconia had been struck with a sense of nervousness, maybe even a little fear. Frowning, she had berated him for abandoning her to cross through the wilderness to their friends alone. As if seeing something she had not intended, he had smiled a little more at that, and only afterwards did she realise that her snarled words had been hypocritical – since she had intended to go alone to the hamlet initially – and that they implied weakness in her, a female drow. Most importantly, it seemed that he had recognised them for what they were: a distraction from what she was really worried about.

Mentally reeling off as many insulting names as she could think of in all of the languages she knew, Viconia had turned and fairly fled from him and the man watching their interaction distrustfully from within the house. It had taken very little effort to traverse the ditches in the hill and from there the path was a fairly straight one back to Elatharia.

Upon seeing the paladin who had promised to have her life if they ever met again, Viconia had been more than uncomfortable until Elatharia cast her spell to make the drow appear as a moon elf. Still, it had been a relief when Ajantis and his men had not deigned to stay, leaving with a bow to Jaheira, a slap on the back shared with Minsc and a handshake offered to Anomen – who was, after all, a member of the same Order. It seemed that they had not met before, however; Viconia had almost pushed it from her mind that she had once known someone who was more prejudiced than Anomen. At least the boy had never offered to kill her and had done nothing more threatening than send a few uncomfortable stares her way when her dark elven form was in sight.

Though laden with some extra gold for her troubles – even if some had been extorted by Edwin – Elatharia had seemed tired and uncomfortable after the encounter with the human paladin and his men. She had even seemed reluctant to face Garren Windspear without some rest – but Aerie and Anomen had insisted, with the Helmite swearing that this lord of Windspear, who was after all his 'second cousin', was an honourable man who would not harm them and must be in dire need. With Minsc, Jaheira and Mazzy joining the clamour to go to the man's home for the night and find out how to help, Elatharia had relented.

Korgan had grumbled until the Transmuter paid him (as well as Jan) for his day's work using some of the money the freed men of the Order had given her. She lagged behind the group for most of the way, rubbing at her temples and with Aerie fussing over her, worriedly saying something about how dangerous it was to perform spells that were far more powerful than anything she was used to.

Viconia had been very curious about what would have become of Haer'Dalis. By the time they had returned to the house – where Anomen had greeted his relative with a level of exuberance and quickly forming sympathy which humans evidently deemed necessary – Viconia found herself rather let down by the sight of the tiefling sitting calmly by the fire in the house.

Garren Windspear's house was only just large enough to cope with the group that Elatharia led – still, the building was bigger than Valygar's with a deep mezzanine floor upon which most of them were told they could sleep. Only Anomen was permitted to take the one spare bedroom in the house and the rest of them were told that they would need to stay in the front half of the house only; which meant the sitting room and the mezzanine above it.

It took a little while for the party to organise itself in such a small space. Valygar offered to sit outside and keep watch, though there had been no open danger since meeting Ajantis. Aerie skipped forward to greet Haer'Dalis, which caused Viconia to turn away with a sneer and take a seat by the window as far from them as she could get. Korgan stomped up to the mezzanine and demanded to be awoken once they were ready to leave the next day.

Once Mazzy and Anomen had been freed from their armour, the rest of the group were told firmly to sit around the fire by their gruff but apparently good-hearted host. With Anomen and Aerie on one couch – Haer'Dalis perched on its arm – and Jaheira, Mazzy and Jan on the other, the rest of them pulled up chairs (Edwin took the only available armchair in the room, much to Viconia's distaste). Minsc seemed far too large for his seat, squirming for a little while before standing behind Jaheira's couch to watch their host instead.

"You will have to forgive my poor hospitality," Garren told them once he joined them.

Standing before their semi-circle around the fire, the threadbare lord of Windspear settled a tray upon the table between them. Upon it rest a teapot and a small number of cups along with some buttered bread and a pile of fruit.

"That is quite alright, Garren," Anomen began before anyone else, looking around the group for agreement.

"I believe it is quite clear that something is very amiss here," Jaheira agreed woodenly after a moment, her hand coming up to the Harper pin on her shoulder automatically, "We…"

"We would like to help however we can!" Aerie insisted, nodding.

Edwin groaned almost inaudibly at Elatharia's side, sending her a long-suffering look from where he was leaning on the armrest of his chair, chin in his palm and the nails of his other hand tapping irritably over his leg.

"I thank you, and I must admit that I am in great need of your help," Garren Windspear agreed, his expression softening as he saw the avariel looking up at him with such earnest sympathy and worry.

He looked tired and dishevelled, the velvet doublet he wore threadbare and worn in the manner of someone who had nothing else to wear and had possibly fought and bled in such items recently. He seemed highly uncomfortable as host, though he had made a fairly valiant effort with his tray, his stubble untidy and tending towards a beard. He was young for a lord, in his early thirties perhaps, with thick coppery hair similar to Anomen's. Though he wore a wedding ring there was no sign of any wife in the house.

"Go on," Elatharia suggested when the room fell quiet at such an awkward admission.

Garren obviously found it difficult to ask for help from an adventuring band caught wandering near the Windspear Hamlet in the dead of night. If not for Anomen's presence this conversation probably could never have even begun.

The lord of the Windspear Hills straightened at her carefully neutral suggestion. Truth be told, Elatharia was tired and struggling to see clearly past the throbbing in her head. She was beginning to resent Edwin for taking that armchair, and his smugness over this was not helping.

"I am not under any deceptions like the rest of this place," Garren began after a moment to collect his obviously frayed thoughts, putting his hand on the mantelpiece and half-turning away from them to tell his tale, "And thus I am aware that it is Lord Jierdan Firkraag who has sent you here with his lies," his fist clenched at this, shaking with the force of his anger, "He arrived here a tenday ago, and sought to set those who I entreated honestly for help against each other and those to whom he fed his lies…by forcing upon some an Illusion and others a…more permanent change."

"(A Transmutation)," Edwin corrected, leaning closer to Elatharia's side to mutter the derisive words, "(Sometimes I forget how stupid the warrior masses can be)."

The Transmuter just winced at him, rubbing at her temple again – he watched her closely for a second, eyes narrowing, until Garren continued obliviously.

"Anomen has told me that you did at least save those the Order sent due to Firkraag's lies, and for that I am glad. However…for me this tale is far worse," he paused, taking in a deep breath to steady himself before continuing, "He has driven me from my home, destroyed every soul who lived in the hamlet I protected, slaughtered my men and instated his own monstrous guards. He has taken my daughter as his captive and left me here to rot."

Anomen was on his feet in a second, as was Mazzy. Minsc cried out something about evil and vengeance which was, for once, met with agreement from several party members. Aerie's eyes were wide and sparkling with tears, her hands fluttering up to her mouth. Viconia muttered something in drow that sounded slightly derogatory from what little Elatharia knew of the language but the priestess stopped abruptly when Haer'Dalis glanced over at her, his expression calm but without mirth.

"Such an injustice cannot be tolerated!" Anomen exclaimed, taking the few steps forward to clasp his kinsman's shoulder, "We certainly cannot wait for Ajantis to inform the Order. Elatharia, we must act!"

Garren seemed to understand Elatharia's expression, however, and turned to face her fully to hear her words.

"You want to save your daughter," she acceded, ignoring Jaheira's frown, "…And I need to save my sister. There's a ransom for that – so, you see, I'm going to need some kind of payment for what we do for you. My friends here would save your daughter free of charge I do not doubt. But if you want all of us to help, and Firkraag ousted too, then money is the only way."

Maybe once she would have felt guilt over such callous words but the more her head hurt from her earlier spellcasting the more she thought of Imoen. And the knives. And Irenicus.

"My lady," Anomen had turned red to his roots and sounded almost as angry as he had on the day of his sister's murder.

Aerie was standing at his side now, the top of her head barely reaching his shoulder, her mouth agape. Mazzy had sat back down after an angry promise that she would see justice done with or without their leader. Minsc looked confused and disappointed. Even Jan had sighed, shaking his head from his place beside Mazzy and muttering something about those who have never known children, like Golodon. Jaheira's expression had become very still, her eyes following the path of Valygar as he rejoined them from the yard, coming to stand behind the couch upon which Anomen and Aerie had sat. His expression was hard to read but he was watching Elatharia closely, as if gauging a possible threat.

"I never said you couldn't, Anomen," the Transmuter pointed out carefully, keeping her attention on Garren. The lord of Windspear hardly looked impressed…or surprised.

"You keep company almost as foul as your father, Anomen," he noted in a growl, which earned a sneer from Edwin, "But of course I would reward anyone who brought my daughter back to me. As for killing Firkraag…I would not ask such a task lightly from anyone."

"Ah, and now he will tell us the truth," Edwin sighed, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms, turning his smirk towards Valygar, his eyes hard.

"My family have been in this land for hundreds of years. We won it long ago from a brutal tyrant and the castle was built afterwards with the funds my ancestor gained in his years as an adventurer. It is the threat that my ancestral sword, Carsomyr, poses to him…and thanks to his own madness…that Firkraag has decided to take everything from me," Garren explained at last.

"Aha! And what manner of creature is Firkraag to fear a single sword once wielded by a famous adventurer?" Haer'Dalis inquired now, and Garren grimaced. Edwin's eyes were alight with intrigue.

"He is not a man, though you may have seen him as such," Garren admitted eventually, "…He is a red dragon, and my ancestry offends him. Carsomyr was forged for the killing of monsters like him, and since he cannot destroy it, now that he has found it he will guard it from ever being used. I will freely give that weapon to you, and let you keep anything you find amongst the horde he will have amassed from my inheritance. You will of course have to kill him first."

"We must do this – for all that is right and good!" Minsc insisted, earning some ferocious nods from Mazzy and Anomen.

"It would be the right thing to do," Aerie agreed after a moment, though she had grown pale at the thought, "For your daughter, my lord. I would never wish…wish captivity on anyone." Anomen looked down at her then and smiled, placing a hand upon her trembling shoulder. She blinked up at him and blushed.

"I thank you all," Garren nodded, smiling wearily to Minsc, Mazzy, Anomen and Aerie.

"I would offer my aid also," Jan put in after a moment, "As my uncle once quoted…"

"I will help as I can," Jaheira interrupted sharply and the gnome gave up his speech with a knowing smile, "Especially as this Firkraag has so badly disrupted the balance of your land. I will also offer up prayers to Silvanus for those lives lost in your hamlet, and aid Anomen in the service he has promised you for their burials. No creature should be permitted to cause such atrocities."

Garren shared a nod with Valygar also. He had addressed the ranger as Lord Corthala upon their meeting and the two seemed to have already had a passing familiarity. As such it appeared that they needed few words to convey intent and thanks. Yoshimo gave a faint shrug of agreement also.

That left Elatharia, Edwin, Viconia and Haer'Dalis. The tiefling stayed quiet now, keeping his gaze upon the three others who had not yet expressed their opinion as the two wizards leaned together and Viconia approached to listen behind their chairs.

"A red dragon…with a horde…and a dragonslaying sword…" Elatharia prompted, starting to smile when she saw the hungry expression on Edwin's face. His dark eyes were gleaming. For once in his life he felt no need to speak.

"I do not share your enthusiasm for the power of such a mission. Though the spoils will be rich, there are undoubtedly ways which would be easier – though perhaps not closer," Viconia admitted from behind them. When Elatharia looked up, the disguised drow shrugged, "I will follow you, khal'abbil."

A glance at Haer'Dalis earned a shrug of agreement which was ironically rather similar to Yoshimo's.

"I think I can speak for Korgan," who was currently snoring loudly from the furthest recesses of the mezzanine above them, "When I say that he will be happy to join in anything that involves violence," Elatharia noted, standing when Garren offered his hand to shake, "It seems we are all in agreement."

While Garren was shaking the hands of the others with significantly more good feeling, Elatharia groaned against another skull-splitting headache, a wave of nausea rising for a moment when the ringing in her head gave way to a split-second image of the silver blade of a sharp knife. When Edwin's hand closed around her elbow she moved with him out into the cooler night-time air without resistance.

Once they were standing beneath the eaves in the darkness, with only the glow of the firelight through the house's windows to wash out the starlight in the black sky, Elatharia pushed back the protective cloth of Gorion's enchanted cloak and let the cold mountain air move over her bare arms, breathing in great gulps of air. Sometimes it was a great relief to be out here away from the sweltering heat of Athkatla. But not even that could relieve the pounding in her head and the things that she remembered ever more as darkness crept in.

The Transmuter stumbled when Edwin caught her by the shoulders, twisting her around the corner of the house so that those within could not see them through the windows. Wordlessly the Red Wizard slipped his fingertips under her mask and eased it over her head slowly, letting it slide down his arm as he caught her face in his hands, pressing those same fingertips to her temples slowly. She had closed her eyes as he moved the cloth from her face, too tired to resist or ask what he was doing. She opened them again when she felt him thumbs brushing over the markings she hid from the world, frowning and pushing at his arms to stop him. For a moment she thought he was about to kiss her.

When she saw him frowning back at her she relented, swallowing hard, her hands clasping around his wrists in mute appeal to let her go. She could not tell if that frown meant anger or concern...or both. He would never have admitted to the latter, and she would have to be delirious to believe that was all of the motivation behind his actions.

"What are you looking for?" she demanded when he continued to search her face as if she was some kind of animal to be appraised before a sale. She gasped in pain, trying to wince away from him when his index fingers pressed lightly against her temples and he nodded thoughtfully to himself.

"I am not in the habit of agreeing with the avariel," the Conjurer began quietly, turning her head a little against her will to catch some of the light coming from the front of the house and observe her eyes better for his inspection, "But, sadly, what she said to you earlier was true. You cannot expect to cast spells of the magnitude which we (emphasis on we) orchestrated earlier and walk away unscathed, incompetent Transmuter. That incompetence has driven you to new levels of audacity today, and now you are paying the price."

"Your caring tone and gentle regard for my pounding head are extremely appreciated," Elatharia complained sarcastically, stumbling when she tried to pull away again and the damp edge of the wooden column holding up one of the eaves dug into her arm.

Edwin tutted at her tone, letting her at least turn her head back to look at him. This close she could see the dark line of one tattoo rising up the side of his neck, disappearing behind his ear and under his hair. She had never seen the full extent of those tattoos, but here in the gloom the thought of tracing that one's path was strangely distracting.

"It is a great gift to have the natural talent for such powerful magic, as you clearly do," Edwin continued, obviously too distracted by his appraisal of her state of health to notice her wandering thoughts, "And it is the sign of an exceptional mage to be able to do what you did today. But a truly great wizard would know which limitations to adhere to," he was muttering more to himself than her, "Your eyes are bloodshot, there is bruising here," his thumbs ran over the skin beneath her eyes, "And there is bruising at your temples as well. (Fool. She should take notes when I quote such excellent Thayvian proverbs)."

"Well if that's the case then why hasn't this happened to you?" Elatharia demanded when he released her, continuing to mutter about all the injuries she had doubtlessly inflicted upon herself.

"Because I am a better mage," Edwin sneered, and Elatharia scoffed.

"I think it's actually because I did all the work today, Edwin," she told him coolly, closing her eyes and bowing her head to rub at her temples again because it was easier than looking into the night-time world behind him where her mind could paint the images of the past upon its impenetrable surface.

"I was the guidance," he corrected her, and for a moment the unwitting parallel to her dream sent her thoughts reeling, "You could not have done anything you did today without me. That such a thought even enters your head proves how much of a fool you have been to overstretch yourself."

Her eyes flew open and her shoulders tensed, her heart thundering in her pounding head. They were the guidance. They are so far away. The words her dream had placed in Imoen's mouth came back to her as if she could hear them clearly again. She swallowed, unable to move her stare from his though the darkness behind him roiled and the things behind her eyes flashed past in greater frequency.

"What are you seeing?" he sounded caught somewhere between annoyance and curiosity, taking a step towards her again as if she were an animal about to bolt.

It took several long breaths before Elatharia could believe in his familiar face, its high cheekbones, dark eyes, long lashes, overly sculpted beard decorated with beads and 'spoiled' by stubble. She trembled at the resurgence of her memories as she mutely watched him lean back against the wall, folding his arms, eyes glinting in the faint light from the house. It was possible to hear the group speaking from within and the tinkle of Haer'Dalis's harp.

"I am currently 'seeing' a Red Wizard with an ego twice as large as his father's Tharch in Thay," Elatharia forced out archly, "Admit it. You are impressed by what I did today," she told him as confidently as she could, though the words rang hollow in her own ears. Steeling herself, she forced her thoughts back into reality and smiled knowingly at his doubtful look. Distraction tactics were so much easier than a real conversation, "Maybe even jealous."

"(Fool. Child. Simian,)" he took the bait and glared at her, "You are no better than a sorcerer, skipping through life flinging spells you can never understand…"

"Oh really, says the man who favours…flinging fire spells…"

"Ugh. (Why do I waste my time on such idiocy. One day…one day…)," his eyes flashed over her when she snorted at his openly mutinous mutterings, "If you think that you can impress me by turning a few monkeys back into their true forms, then you are mistaken. I was educated and raised upon Thaymount and in the Tharch of Surthay…you were given a meagre education by a man who preferred to hide the truth from you in a small keep that collects books that it never reads!" this reaction was perhaps a little more extreme than she had been expecting – it occurred to her that the Red Wizard had been brooding since she returned Ajantis and his men to their true forms.

"Sounds like jealousy to me," she reiterated, crossing her arms.

There was something a bit too satisfying about the way that the Red Wizard's ego could be lighted up like this. He stood straight when he realised she had manoeuvred him into this, smiling in a way that meant he had this victory and not her.

"You have twisted this conversation, and so now I shall return it to its true course," he purred, pausing for effect when her expression fell and then proceeding to speak to her slowly, emphasising his words as if speaking to a child, "You have overstretched your power today. If I had summoned a Balor Lord for your inspection and almost ruptured my major arteries sending it back to its native hell, would you have been impressed? (As an incompetent Transmuter perhaps she would have been)."

"I'm surprised you care."

This kind of manipulation was no longer as fun.

"I don't," he snapped, curling his hands at her in annoyance, "Not unless you endanger me with your ridiculous choices. Take the power you have and use it to your advantage…against this Firkraag, against Irenicus. Do not reach for what you do not have yet. We are taught this as children in Thay."

"Well then, if you don't care why are you still standing there?" she asked him, angry now herself, "I do what I must. We needed the money Ajantis gave us and it would have been harder to gain by killing him, given who follows us."

She turned away, and when he did not respond she knew that he had left her to the darkness.

Author's note: The identity of Edwin's father comes from the opening few scenes of the Forgotten Realms novel about Thay, Unclean; it describes Homen Odesseiron as Tharchion of Surthay. It never mentions Edwin, of course, but as in Kyn's wonderful Aegis of Candlekeep stories here on Fanfic, I've taken the stance that he is probably Edwin's father, not just a distant relative as could also be assumed.