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Chapter 10: The Plans of Schemers
Elatharia had slept without dreams. Once she had crept back into Garren's home, all of the others had gone to bed; Anomen to his appointed room while Korgan, Jan, Minsc, Jaheira, Yoshimo, Mazzy and Valygar had taken the mezzanine. Viconia and Aerie had each taken one of the couches which were now angled away from each other; drow and avariel rarely spoke, preferring to ignore each other rather than face the disquiet they probably induced in each other. Edwin had walled himself off behind a row of chairs and was utterly invisible; her eyes did not linger in his direction for once, because the thought of him still made her angry after their conversation. Haer'Dalis was dozing whilst sitting along the windowsill, his harp still in his lap and his hood low over his face; there was just a braid of blue hair visible at his jerkin collar.
Elatharia had taken the armchair, since it was just large enough for her to curl up on with relative comfort. After looking over her spellbook for those incantations which might be useful in the coming day's battle, she barely had time to begin considering the dangers of the way the group had split in the face of Garren's need before sleep claimed her.
The next morning was heralded by the mercilessly loud footsteps of her companions descending from the mezzanine, a few trudging off fearlessly for the lake to wash as best they could. One glance out of the window had shown the gathering storm clouds, and Elatharia had huddled beneath her cloak once more to find further sleep. The next thing she knew there were several voices coming from the kitchen, the roof of the sitting room was roaring with the pelting of rain, and someone had lit the fire in front of her. She could make out Anomen's insistent tones punctuated by Mazzy's firm but calmer agreements; a lower, quieter voice was probably Valygar. A loud 'Boo says…' proved the presence of Minsc.
As she sat up slowly Elatharia observed Korgan munching on a pie rather loudly by the kitchen, and Edwin was reading huddled by the fire with a cup of tea growing cold at his elbow. Jan was sitting on the floor by the mantelpiece, fiddling with some small metal contraption and apparently oblivious to the rest of the world.
When a bowl appeared in front of her face, Elatharia jumped in surprise. When she saw the unfamiliar hand that held it she was no less confused; it was masculine – though still fairly slender – with short, blue-tinged nails. A bracelet of woven feathers hung around the wrist and a few white scars stood out along the forearm where the shirt had been rolled up to the elbows.
"Forgive me, my Raven," Haer'Dalis chuckled when the Transmuter jumped back in surprise from his offering, "Your Blackbird has often berated me for such silent approaches as well," he offered the bowl again and she took it gingerly, watching his eyes warily. The irises were black – a strange phenomenon which was only truly noteworthy when the light fell upon his face…and showed that they absolutely were not a more human brown.
"What is it?" Elatharia asked stupidly as the tiefling handed her a spoon.
"Soup, as made and sent by the lovely Aerie, our Mourning Dove," Haer'Dalis informed her, twisting about to sit upon a nearby couch, reclining and watching Viconia's approach with a little smile, "This Sparrow was but a humble courier for a far nobler Dove."
Viconia gave the bard a disdainful glare and stopped in front of Elatharia as the Transmuter was just sipping on her soup. The priestess seemed in no mood to speak and instead waited for Elatharia to realise the problem. Once she had, the Transmuter returned the drow's glare and cast the required spell to alter her appearance back to that of a moon elf.
"You're both in bad moods today," Aerie giggled, appearing at Elatharia's side and slipping past to sit next to Haer'Dalis.
"And you're still in a strangely good one, Aerie," Elatharia complained, sitting up and only then noticing that her mask lay upon her lap. Edwin had not given it back to her the night before, and yet here it was. None of her three companions had once glanced at her markings with the judgement or horror she would have expected – not even Haer'Dalis, who had never seen them before.
"We are going to help Garren's daughter today," the avariel's face fell in response to Elatharia's words, "And send Firkraag from the castle. I…I have not forgotten the suffering of our host, I assure you."
"And your compassion is a rare thing, my Dove," Haer'Dalis noted now, putting a hand over Aerie's. The avariel blinked at him in surprise, her smile tentative and her blush obvious.
Viconia rolled her eyes and turned away, Elatharia watching the bard and part-time mage closely as she set aside her soup to tie on her mask. It was hard to tell who the tiefling favoured more; the avariel or the drow, and the fact that he favoured them both at all seemed rather strange. Short of comparing Aerie to Korgan, there were few people more opposite to her in the group than Viconia…or so the drow would have the world believe. So Elatharia just smiled into her bowl and quietly ate her soup, watching the interactions before her.
"We should be ready to move out soon," Jaheira was saying to Valygar as they entered the sitting room from the kitchen.
Elatharia twisted about to look at her.
"Yes," the Transmuter agreed, earning an uncomfortable nod from both druid and ranger, "But first I need everyone to gather round. You're going to have to listen closely and trust me; I have a plan. And Anomen? You aren't going to like it."
And the cleric had not liked it, nor had Garren upon entering his sitting room and listening to Elatharia explain what she had in mind to her gathered companions. But in the end they had agreed it would be the best way, and Anomen had sworn not to compromise them. Sharing a firm handshake with his cousin, he had followed like the others.
They left substantially before noon and made their way back to the road which had once cut through the destroyed hamlet. The rain was rushing around them as they trudged along the road and every party member was quiet and muddy, wrapped in their cloaks and wincing against the icy sting of the wind – and the water it brought lashing with it. Edwin was keeping well away from Elatharia – which meant that he was walking alone after rebuffing Haer'Dalis's attempts to converse so adamantly that even the tiefling gave up.
It took twice as long as planned to come to the castle gates at the foot of the mountain. Elatharia had to crane her neck back to see a semblance of the castle's dark shape clinging to the rock-face above them from here, the rain soaking through her mask, trickling in icy rivulets down behind the cloth and into her eyes. The walls here were high and of dark stone, the gates of thick wood and thoroughly shut. Sticking to her plan, the Transmuter had been considering some way of gaining the attention of whoever was inside…when those heavy gates ground slowly open. It sounded like someone was turning the wheel from inside the gatehouse which they passed upon their entry but no one came out to greet them. Still, it seemed that they were not suspected of harbouring ill intent.
As the gates slammed shut behind them, there was only one way forward. Beyond stood a bailey – or its remains – which had once held a number of buildings, some probably barracks, one with a broken symbol of Lathander lying before its empty doorway. The walls were not manned, though the scaffolds used to reach them were still standing. The ground was paved and slippery but a pleasant change from the mud they had churned beneath their feet to get here.
Across the bailey stood a steep stairway which vanished into a high archway cut into the cliff face. It seemed that this really was the only way forward; the winch-operated lift which served as an alternative lay shattered by the stairs.
A glance behind herself revealed to Elatharia the wary expressions of her companions. Aerie was clinging to Anomen's arm, and the Helmite looked as though he were doing his very best to hide his extreme distaste for the task ahead. Mazzy and Valygar stood next to each other, the top of the paladin's head not even level with his waist; both wore expressions of grim determination. Jan had pulled his goggles down over his eyes to shield them from the rain and was taking the pause in walking to peruse the little metal item in his hands. Korgan was glowering up at the steps they would evidently be climbing soon with a look of personal affront; behind him Edwin was hunched beneath his long black cloak and appeared similarly put out by the task ahead of them. When he caught Elatharia looking, he frowned at her but gave a sharp nod. Returning the gesture, Elatharia turned back to face the stairs – which Haer'Dalis had already reached. He was now beckoning them over unconcernedly from the shelter of the archway. A moment later Viconia's yellow-hooded head appeared out of the gloom behind him, her eyes flashing red in the darkness.
"Let us go," Jaheira prompted from Elatharia's side, watching the Transmuter with that same unreadable look which she had worn since her apology at Valygar's cabin. Though the druid had been significantly less acerbic – or at least hateful – after her encounter with Haer'Dalis, it would take a lot more than an apology to set things right between her and Elatharia.
"Yes," the Transmuter agreed, beginning to move forward, "I imagine he will meet us at the gates." In his human form.
The plan relied upon Lord Jierdan being unaware of the aid they had given to Ajantis or the time they had spent at Garren's lodge. It was possibly a foolish hope, but it had at least got them through the outer walls.
Once they began their ascent to the top of the stairs in their quest to reach the castle proper, the silence was filled only by the endless echo of their footsteps. This steep, winding tunnel did at least shelter them from the rain, but it was tiring work and hardly conducive to conversation. It was particularly hard for Jan, Mazzy and Korgan – all three were lagging significantly far behind not long into the climb. Aerie may have suffered similarly if not for the stoic aid of Anomen. Edwin was red-faced and glowering in short order as well, although he kept pace – he and Viconia were in agreement in regards to how very much beneath them this type of work was. The two rangers, as well as Jaheira and Haer'Dalis, seemed unfazed by the exercise…while Yoshimo went a step beyond them all – quite literally – and flitted off ahead to inspect the tunnel.
Elatharia's thighs were burning for rest by the time that they reached the top of the stairs. The ascent ended in a short hallway, upon the smooth stone walls of which burned ensconced torches, their flames casting long shadows and flickering reddish reflections along the polished tile floor. A set of doors stood open at the far end…and in that opening stood Lord Jierdan Firkraag, smiling widely in greeting. At the sight of him, still wearing the form of a man and dressed just as before in red and black velvets, the party grew still – though several were doubled over and panting to catch their breath.
"Friends, it is good to see that you have made the difficult climb," Firkraag greeted, stepping forward with his arms outstretched just as Korgan and Mazzy clanked loudly to an unusually unified halt at the top of the stairs. Jan was still wheezing in the distance, his gasps echoing down the tunnel in a rather monstrous manner.
"Lord Firkraag."
Elatharia found that the smile she faked came easily to her, approaching him with Viconia and Haer'Dalis flanking her as agreed. No one else in their group had been comfortable with playing this act. And of those she knew there were no two people more skilled in deception than the drow and the tiefling.
"We have travelled far to come to your lands and the road has been hard," she gestured at her bedraggled, muddy state, "I trust we can find some lodgings in your castle? We came upon a group of ogres and hobgoblins just by the way-marker a few miles south west of here. I assume they were some of the bandits of whom you spoke? Either way, we dispatched them. A shame about your hamlet – what kind of a force could have doled such horrors?"
"Indeed, indeed," Firkraag nodded, his eyes lighting up with pleasure at the mention of the 'bandits', "You may of course stay here. I apologise for the long climb; this castle has been under attack from all sides of late. Please, allow me to escort you to your chambers."
"Thank you," Viconia purred now, "We are very weary."
'Be ready,' Elatharia signed to her once Firkraag's back was turned, the party trailing after him, 'We won't be able to corner him now, but if what Garren says is true we'll be facing a host of his guards before bed, I promise.'
If Firkraag knew that they were lying, then this would be the best plan to dispatch them; if he was a troublemaker intent upon chaos, he would probably be planning something similar. And if he thought they were genuine…then they would still need to group together to defeat the guards he kept within. It had already been determined that their path would lead them down into the depths of the castle, where the dungeons stood. Beneath these, Garren had told them, stood the only cavern large enough for a red dragon – an immense chamber built to house the skulls of defeated dragons. And it was within this room that Carsomyr was likely held as well, along with any hoard Firkraag had amassed.
A glance back at Jaheira showed the druid's grim expression, though all that had passed so far was utterly to plan. No doubt Firkraag would seek to separate the group by giving them each a room in the castle. But it was already agreed; as soon as they had been escorted to their rooms they would return to the central entry hall of the castle which Garren had described to them before their departure. The true Lord of Windspear had detailed the different rooms Firkraag would probably assign them, the better to separate them before sending his monstrous guards to deal with them.
For now all seemed quiet, the castle utterly empty – a phenomenon which Firkraag explained with some mention that his servants had all gone to find shelter in the Umar Hills from the dangerous events. Wherever his guards were, they were well hidden. The group passed through the entry hall, a tall and rather plain room without any kind of adornment save for the carvings at the newel posts of the mighty central stairway. It was up these steps that Firkraag led them, and down a series of winding passageways which ought to have been impossible to navigate in reverse – except for Garren's earlier aid.
Haer'Dalis partnered with Minsc for the first room, then Korgan with Jan a little way down. Yoshimo and Edwin were next, followed by Anomen and Valygar; several corridors further down, Mazzy and Aerie took a room opposite Viconia and Jaheira. Everyone played their parts as well as could be hoped but Elatharia's heart was still pounding as Firkraag led her alone to the last bedroom. He parted from her with a smile and a hot kiss to the back of her hand, bidding her rest well and apologising for the absence of any servants. She had smiled, in truth hiding behind her mask, and remembered the appropriate pleasantries before stepping through the door.
Beyond stood a broad four-poster bed upon a raised platform, framed by a tall arched window in the wall behind it. Rain was spattering against the coloured glass and the world outside was gloomy, but the light still filtered through in an aesthetically pleasing rainbow. All was as one would expect; an empty bath at the foot of the bed, a washbowl upon the nightstand, a few wardrobes and unlit candelabras flanking full bookcases.
Except for the pair of hobgoblin guards waiting against the walls to either side of the door.
Both moved for her at the same time, and though Elatharia had been half-expecting something of this sort it was probably luck that she noticed them in time. Faking a scream, she ducked beneath their swinging blades and gasped the words for a Haste spell, her hands forming the gestures as fast as was physically possible. The spell took effect in a split second, empowering her movements to twice their normal speed and allowing her to scramble across the room, away from her snarling opponents. She screamed again for good measure, suspecting that Firkraag was listening to ensure she was at least hurt in this encounter. Perhaps understandably, both hobgoblins' porcine faces twisted in confusion to see her manic grin…and she called forth her next spell.
Extending her arms before her, fingers splayed, she waited until the closer of the two was no more than a foot from her before allowing the roaring heat of Aganazzar's Scorcher to engulf her foe. Howling in pain, the brute recoiled from the wickedly hot flames, shrieking from unexpected – and undoubtedly agonising – burns. When she gestured similarly to the other hobgoblin, he scrambled back quickly…only to realise that she had feigned the gesture and was now calling forth another, more powerful spell.
When the lightning bolt hit him it sent him crashing into one of the wardrobes at the far end of the room, tumbling over where his companion was currently rolling to put out the fires upon his hair and clothes. Elatharia watched as the lightning crawled from the smouldering, twitching corpse of the second hobgoblin, sparking off the floor with the irrepressible power of their magical energy…and finished what the Aganazzar's Scorcher had begun. Her dispassionate gaze grew grimly satisfied as she crossed the room slowly, kicking over the closest hobgoblin and observing her handiwork. Bhaal's blood called for this, and Firkraag had just made this personal.
Elatharia's plan had worked only to the extent that it had got them into the castle. By leaving his soldiers lying in wait for all of them in their respective rooms, Firkraag had made it clear that he already knew they had betrayed his interests. It was probably the only time Viconia had ever been grateful to be assigned a chamber with Jaheira, because the warrior druid had whirled on the four hobgoblins that came for them and given Viconia enough time to cast the spells she needed to join the fray. They had met Aerie and Mazzy in the corridor outside their room; both had seemed uninjured and no one knew where Elatharia had gone with Firkraag, so they set off for the agreed meeting point of the central hall.
Edwin, Yoshimo, Jan and Korgan had all been waiting for them there, the Red Wizard with his arms folded and his foot tapping impatiently, the bounty hunter sitting on one of the long tables unconcernedly, the gnome reloading his crossbow and the dwarf once more covered in blood after the ambush in his room. Once Valygar and Anomen arrived, Jaheira had the group patrol the doors; there was still no sign of Elatharia, Haer'Dalis or Minsc.
When a lone hobgoblin burst through the door at the top of the stairs and headed straight for the group, everyone took up a ready battle stance or poised themselves for a spell, fully expecting a host of attackers to follow. Yoshimo drew back an arrow, hesitating only because this hobgoblin appeared to carry no weapon and did not seem to be making any move to attack them. It even stopped at the bottom of the stairs and sent each of them a withering stare.
Jan started laughing so hard that he had to lean against one of the tables just to stay on his feet.
"You…you look just like one…you should have…" he only managed to splutter out a few words of laughter before Edwin groaned in understanding.
The hobgoblin made an unexpectedly intricate gesture with one hand and for a moment its form blurred, resizing and reshaping to become Elatharia once more, complete with the Robe of Vecna, Gorion's cloak, those terribly muddy boots and her mask tied into her unendingly messy hair. Then it was Korgan's turn to start laughing. Aerie gave a squeal and flew into Elatharia's arms, offering a hug that the Transmuter did not return. Yoshimo just lowered his bow, grinning when he saw Edwin's horrified expression. Flames were just dissipating from around the Red Wizard's hands.
"It was unwise to take such a form, Elatharia," Jaheira admonished as Aerie finally released the Transmuter, the druid sharing a dark look with Valygar, "We could have killed you."
"(And she would have thoroughly deserved it,)" Edwin muttered from nearby. The comment made Viconia smirk even as it drew a glare from Elatharia, the Transmuter drawing herself up haughtily.
"It was not unwise to take such a form," Viconia disagreed, stepping up to stand before their leader now, "Though perhaps less wise to enter this particular room in such a fashion."
Elatharia shrugged, looking around the room slowly to take note of who was yet missing. Korgan and Jan were still laughing loudly behind Viconia's back.
"That was an improvement on yer looks, ha!" Korgan was chortling.
"Yet more reasons to disregard the words of dwarves," Edwin complained, approaching impatiently and gesturing at the two still laughing behind him, "Can you not shut them up oh 'mighty leader'?" he demanded of Elatharia, his dark eyes following Valygar's path to the head of the stairs distrustfully rather than look her in the eye.
"A Silence spell?"
Elatharia seemed unbothered though her eyes lingered on Edwin for a split second too long. Not for the first time, Viconia wondered what sort of argument the wizards had conducted to cause this uncomfortable collection of awkward moments they had been creating throughout the day. After a moment, Elatharia scanned the group again and it looked like her eyebrows rose beneath her mask.
"Viconia?" she asked, her green eyes snapping towards the drow, "Where are your tiefling and Minsc? I thought we put Haer'Dalis with him especially to stop him getting lost on the way back?"
The concept that they might not be coming back had not entered Viconia's mind, and for a moment she battled with the belief that it would not be a bad thing. Then she found that she was looking about herself like a fool, surrounded with the strong sense that she had left something important behind. Jaheira appeared to have undergone a similar thought process, though why the druid would ever miss the ranger was a rather bemusing concept to Viconia. Still, Jaheira turned rigid before spinning about and striding after Valygar to look through the door at the top of the stairs.
"Well?" Elatharia asked of the group, sounding more annoyed now, "Does anyone have any idea where our best sword fighter and our most reckless warrior have gone? I've a feeling we're going to need everyone with us to get through here."
Anomen stepped up to speak then, his face turning pale as he thought of something.
"My lady – it is evident that Firkraag was expecting us. I would wager that he does not have pleasant intentions for Garren's daughter. We must make haste to the dungeons…once the others have returned, of course."
"(If they return,)" Edwin sounded as derisive as usual, but something about the sentiment made Viconia's fists clench in annoyance, "But speaking as a Thayvian…I would say that the cleric is right," he glanced at the Helmite with a small sneer; they were similar enough in height that it was possible for them to look each other straight in the eye, "Much as it pains me to have to agree with…"
"They are here!" Jaheira's relieved tone wavered upon the last word as she pulled the door open fully and Minsc's heavy footsteps could be heard, at least sparing the group from the rest of Edwin's sentence and Anomen's otherwise inevitably angry response. The Rashemi berserker stumbled through the door at the top of the stairs, stooped down to keep Haer'Dalis's arm around his shoulders.
"By Helm!" Anomen's exclamation thunderously muffled Viconia's own rather less verbose 'oh'.
Haer'Dalis looked to have an arrow lodged in his arm, blood staining one voluminous white sleeve. Since this was his only injury it would not have been expected that he be so incapacitated. But he was; so much so that the ranger had half-dragged him to the meeting place. Haer'Dalis's usually pale skin had taken on a greyish tinge and he slumped back against the wall, pulling his arm free from Minsc and sliding to sit up on the floor with a wince and a groan. He had evidently chosen to prop himself up in this manner rather than face stumbling down the stairs.
"Has he been poisoned?" Elatharia asked as Jaheira rounded on Minsc.
"We must help him!" Aerie cried in dismay, looking to her fellow healers for support.
"Viconia! We need your expertise!" the druid called, still glaring at Minsc even as, for the third time that day, Jaheira was seen to be in accord with Viconia.
The drow was the member of the group most experienced in the ways of poison – she had grown up in Menzoberranzan, after all. Given such a neutral order from the druid, it allowed her to head up the stairs at speed without losing any dignity. Haer'Dalis's eyes were half-closed and his breathing shallow once she reached his side. He sent her a faint smile as she crouched beside him.
"Have you come to drag me back from the claws of oblivion, my Blackbird?" he muttered, "Or are you the Crow come to take me hence?"
Viconia hardly waited for Anomen to join her side, gesturing for him to hold the tiefling still as she wrenched the arrow free. She did not watch the tiefling's face as she did this, though he tensed and convulsed for a moment, the back of his head hitting the wall behind him. It took all of her concentration to stem the bleeding, her magic finding the wound and healing the damage almost to nothing.
A glance back at Haer'Dalis showed to her that in spite of the closure of the wound he was no better. If anything he looked to be much worse. When Anomen started to ask her something she waved him away, pulling free one of her gloves and placing her palm against the bard's forehead. It was perhaps a poor test of his state, since as a tiefling his body temperature was higher than would have been expected in a human. But the sweat glistening on his skin, his increased pallor and the rolling of his eyes suggested the poison Elatharia had suspected. He did not respond when the drow snarled his name, instead muttering something in a strange language full of hisses and clicks that she had never heard before.
Ignoring Jaheira's stern words with Minsc, Viconia shooed Aerie and Anomen away when both offered to help, swiftly unbuttoning the jerkin Haer'Dalis wore over his shirt far enough that she could peel it back. Sure enough, once his shoulder was bare, there were the black lines of corrupted veins spreading out from the injury.
"Can you help him?" Aerie's voice was high and frightened behind the drow.
"Yes. It is hardly a sophisticated poison in the manner of my people. It is a simple thing to neutralise this poison; now let me work."
She had to sit on his legs to hold him still as she reached beneath his shirt to press a hand to the wound. It always helped to know what poison she was dealing with before calling upon the power of her god; sometimes medicines would still be required. Fortunately for the tiefling, all that was required here was speed and determination, both of which Viconia found – to her surprise – that she had in abundance.
As her chanting began and her eyes closed, the power of her goddess flowed through her fingers almost immediately. First, she felt his heartbeat slow and his breathing become even. Then his muscles relaxed beneath her grip and his muttering ceased. She had been right about her previous assessment; his body temperature did seem to be hotter than a humanoid of the Prime Material. It was only a slight difference, but noticeable.
When his hand slid over hers, pressing her palm against his newly healed shoulder, Viconia's eyes flew open. He was watching her calmly now through half-lidded eyes, her forearm braced across his chest and every breath in and out rocking her gently. Embarrassment was not a feeling that had a name in the drow language but Viconia was acutely aware of her capacity for that emotion as the tiefling smiled at her. She berated herself fiercely – how many times had she been forced to heal her other companions in such a manner? Surely this was no different?
"Perhaps I should find a better name for you, my Blackbird," Haer'Dalis mused softly, his smile growing when she gaped at him and tugged free, scrambling back to solid ground and busying herself with tugging her glove back on.
"Any foolish 'name' you give for me would be an impudent show of your inferior breeding, male," she snarled back, glancing over her shoulder to see that the others were gathered in a circle at the bottom of the stairs discussing what had happened and what should come next. Except for Aerie, who was hovering only a few paces away and watching the drow and tiefling with wide eyes.
Haer'Dalis only laughed at Viconia's words, sitting up a little better and pushing aside his jerkin and tunic to see the silvery circle on his shoulder that her healing had left him with. She could not decide whether she wanted to escape…or draw closer. Just moments before she had been touching that skin but only now did she consider the muscular chest and shoulder he had just exposed. Her hand clenched at the memory and he looked up at her knowingly from beneath his brows with a crooked smile.
"I see your blush, forgetful Blackbird," he told her softly, his thumb brushing over her cheekbone before she could recoil, his words reminding her that she still wore her moon elf form, "I thank you for showing your skill and choosing to help this Sparrow – though oblivion would not have been unwelcome."
"K-keep your thanks," Viconia told him, scrambling back and standing, turning away sharply.
"Ah, if only you would tell me what holds you back, my Blackbird," the tiefling sighed, and Viconia did not look around at him.
"You overstep, male," she told him, wishing her voice did not quaver so and instead turning her angry stare upon Aerie who still wavered at the stairs, though the drow spoke only just loud enough for Haer'Dalis to hear, "Keep to the avariel."
"Did we not tell you to come straight to this room?" Jaheira had been admonishing Minsc while Viconia healed Haer'Dalis; when the drow had sent Anomen away, the group had gathered at the bottom of the stairs to give her space.
"Yes but Boo said fight and there were many hobgoblins waiting outside – we had no choice and then…then…" Minsc blinked, apparently realising what had befallen, a slightly guilty expression appearing on his large face.
"Then the berserk rage took you and Haer'Dalis had to follow?" Elatharia suggested grimly, watching Anomen hop from foot to foot in his eagerness to be off for the dungeons.
"Yes! But the tiefling was not without deliberation in this!" Minsc countered, announcing the long word with pride.
Mazzy rolled her eyes and turned away with her hands on her hips, staring up at Viconia as the drow stood abruptly, striding down for the group without hesitation and leaving Aerie to help Haer'Dalis to his feet.
"It looks as though she has saved the bard," the halfling noted with a hint of surprise.
"Then we must hasten for the dungeons!" Anomen cried and Elatharia acceded his point with a nod.
Garren's maps had shown to them quite clearly the path they must take from this point, but it seemed unlikely that they would be able to get there without a fight. In all likelihood, Firkraag would have a host more of hobgoblins waiting along that inevitable path; after all, the cave which held his newly 'won' treasure lay that way as well.
"Agreed, but we need some decoys," Elatharia nodded, turning as Haer'Dalis and Aerie joined them, the tiefling limping only slightly and apparently no longer in discomfort, "Jan, I need you to cast some Illusion spells on our fighters. I cannot transmute that many people for that long."
She gestured to Minsc, Valygar, Mazzy, Anomen, Korgan and Jaheira, all of whom looked caught between horror and determination. Though the gnome sniggered at the thought, he quickly set to work. Yoshimo raised his bow in silent understanding of her intention for him.
"Haer'Dalis, Viconia; you'll be the next line of offense. Aerie, Edwin and I will stick with Jan."
A determined nod from the avariel, a smile from the tiefling. Viconia was frowning hard and staring off at nothing but moved into position. Edwin's hand on Elatharia's elbow stopped her from following Aerie once Jan's spell was complete and six 'hobgoblins' in Firkraag's colours moved out in the direction of the dungeons.
"You want spell scrolls, a few more books to add to that library you keep in your bag of holding…oh, and all the power on Faerûn," Elatharia pre-empted, looking up into Edwin's face with a guarded expression of her own. His grip tightened momentarily on her elbow and his eyebrow raised doubtfully, "I can't promise you all of those things, but I suspect Firkraag's hoard will have plenty to keep you occupied. And if we make it out of this dragon's lair, I'm sure we'll have free reign over the whole castle…"
He put a finger over her lips suddenly, and though her response was hardly submissive or lady-like – since she spluttered and pulled away from the unexpected contact – it succeeded in silencing her. His eyes lit up in rare genuine amusement at her undignified response.
"Wine. I also want wine," he told her with barely contained laughter, his teeth flashing white, "If there is no tea, I will have wine. (The level of barbarity in this place…)"
Trying not to laugh herself now, and more than a little relieved by the loss of tension between them after the argument the night before, Elatharia grinned back at him and gave a nod. He caught her arm again when she moved in the direction of their companions – almost all of whom had now gone through the door across the hall.
"One more thing," he told her, "I want you to tell me what it is in your journal that you fear to read so much." He just raised his eyebrows expectantly at her when her smile dropped suddenly.
"Only if you tell me why you keep staring so intently at that map of the Graveyard District in Athkatla," Elatharia gritted out, hating him in that moment for stealing her mirth.
"Done," he held his hand out for her to shake, a wicked grin curling his lips, "(I believe I have won this negotiation)."
Rolling her eyes, she took his hand firmly, trying her best to ignore the brush of his fingertips against her wrist, the warmth of his palm against hers. With a glare she drew away first, nudging past him with her shoulder. Sometimes his attempts to gain a response from her were a little too obvious, and as she strode after their companions, to where Aerie was waiting for her at the open door watching the two wizards with anxious eyes, a plan began to form in the Transmuter's mind. Elatharia was not the same person she had been on the Coast Way, however much she remembered the awe her younger self had felt at the Red Wizard's power. He had tried to manipulate her then and almost succeeded to the detriment of Dynaheir. He would not succeed again, she was determined. Unless it benefited her and Imoen. And if it did…then there was nothing, no plan or fiery doom, that she would not agree to create to get it done.