Dramatis Personae

Criminal Insurgents

Cordas, Crimelord

Norris, Exiled Ranger

Shen, Kara-Tur Warrior

Shadow Thieves

Cerdan Engeven, Guildmaster

Tomar, Lieutenant

Kretia, Lieutenant

Seffron, Lieutenant

Back to the Basics

(7:00 AM)

"Have the arrow removed and the bleeding stopped," Cerdan instructed as he showed the guild healer to the place where Seffron lay. "But don't worry about repairing it completely; save your magic for any serious cases that come up today. Besides, I'll need his skills as quickly as possible, and we can't waste time once he's been stabilized."

The cleric of Mask nodded and moved to join Kretia at the patient's side. Cerdan looked on as several thieves helped them carefully lift Seffron onto a stretcher to be carried away. Shaking his head slightly, the guildmaster left them to do their work and walked back toward his office, knowing that he would have to give orders quickly if the guild were to respond to this new problem.

Tomar was leaning on the wall nearby and fell into step as the elf passed. "It is as I expected," said the lieutenant, "A guild war. With Seffron indisposed, you need someone to direct our scouts and thieves."

"Kretia can handle that."

"Kretia's become a sobbing wreck, and you know it."

As much as Cerdan hated to admit it, Tomar was right. In the past few weeks the guildmaster had noticed that Seffron and Kretia had been spending an unusual amount of time together, but he never thought Kretia had become so unbelievably fragile. Not a good sign at all for a lieutenant in charge of assassins.

"Fine, I'll grant you temporary command of our scouts for now. Order them on alert and have them fan out through the district." They reached Cerdan's office and paused outside the door as the elf continued, "If the would-be assassin is on foot, he won't be far. Get a description of the sniper from Kretia, and try to have him brought in alive; we still need to find out who is behind these attacks."

"At last," Tomar smiled and gave a half-hearted salute, relishing his new feeling of power as he went off to begin directing the guild scouts.

Cerdan sent one final uneasy glance at his lieutenant, then passed inside his office where a young sandy-haired boy waited in front of the desk.

"Bryn, what do you have for me?"

The kid glanced up and the elf noticed he was holding an unrolled parchment. Bryn quickly closed it up and held out the scroll. "A few of us local scouts took the liberty of searching the sniper's building when Seffron got shot. I found this on the body of the wizard that Kretia managed to kill."

Cerdan plucked the scroll away and, holding it on one end, unrolled it with a single shake of his wrist. The first half of the scroll's contents detailed the intended time and location for Seffron's assassination, as well as a brief description of his appearance. The second half, however, was far more disconcerting…

"They're planning a heist at the Temple of Tyr," noted Bryn.

Indeed, the elf was looking at a rough schematic of the temple layout, complete with several red 'x's marking potential points of entry and weak spots.

"Not only that," the elf added, reading the few lines at the very bottom of the scroll, "they're intent on turning the guild and the Church against each other. Though we still have a few hours, judging by what's written here."

"Then I suppose you'll be needing the services of your personal courier?" Bryn coughed and held out an open hand in a rather unsubtle way.

Cerdan sighed and fished a gold piece from his pocket, which he flipped to the boy. "Don't get greedy, lad, that's your pay for the entire week." He grabbed a quill and paper from his desk and penned a short message, then slipped it into an envelope. "I'll hang onto the sniper's scroll while you're off. Stick to the main roads and public areas; if you keep moving, you'll probably escape notice."

The elf took a stick of wax from the corner of his desk, held it out over a candle, and let several black drops fall onto the envelope flap before applying the seal to the letter. He let the sealed message air out for a moment, then handed it to Bryn. "Now make haste. You already know who to give this to."

(7:11)

The new Temple of Tyr was constructed as a tower on the opposite side of Baldur's Gate; a spire of twisting white stone standing comfortably in the clean, paved streets of the nobles' district, well away from the likes of the thieves and peasantry in the merchant quarter. The new architecture of the building seemed needlessly extravagant, particularly to one elven priestess who had been so used to the simple, unadorned accommodations of the original temple.

"Priestess!"

Selena blinked out of her thoughts and returned her attention to the young acolyte that had addressed her. "Yes, what is it now?"

The youth turned and pointed toward the other side of the room. "My sparring partner is refusing to continue his combat training!"

The priestess peered across the training chamber at the dozen or so acolytes who were all busily locked in mock combat with wooden maces and staves. All save one, who was daydreaming by the window ledge at the far end of the room.

For the most part, Selena's duties involved lecturing and teaching new, eager acolytes about the tenets of justice and faith in Tyr. The strength of justice through combat was one such tenet that trainees tended to be more engrossed in. Sadly, there was always one bad egg that was obviously drafted into church service grudgingly by his parents, and wouldn't let anyone forget it.

This particular bad egg's name was Villet. The priestess wouldn't forget that either, no matter how much she wanted to.

"Not again." Selena sighed and crossed the chamber toward the wayward acolyte. As she came closer, the priestess accidentally looked out the window and cringed as she saw just how high above the ground they were. Turning her head away with a wince, she spoke to the wayward youth, "Acolyte, you must continue your training if you wish to remain with the Order."

"Eh," he said, casually brushing some unseen nuisance off of his shoulder, "We do not need to know how to fight if we are going to become healers."

"Are you so certain of that?" The red-haired priestess sent a sharp stare down at the youth. Villet made a particularly bold gesture of turning and facing her directly, a look of disdain plain upon his face.

Selena let his audacious attitude slide for now as she went on, "Let me tell you something: Three years ago, when I was a simple cleric, I used to think like that. Then I nearly died because of my inability to fight. I didn't even know how to hold a mace properly, and I ended up poisoned and near death as a result of an enemy's blade. It was only through incredible luck that I survived, but I made certain that such a failure would never happen to me again."

She picked up Villet's wooden mace from the ground and held it out, "And it won't happen to you either. Keep training."

Muttering slightly, the youth took the weapon but made a show of doing it very slowly. Even after it was in his hands, he didn't turn away from the window. "Hey, look. There's a royal horseman at the tower gate."

Selena swallowed nervously, and couldn't bring herself to look out the window. The view from such a height tended to bring back unpleasant memories. "Yes, the High Prelate of Tyr is visiting from the city of Athkatla for an inspection of our temple, and the royal horsemen make up his personal entourage. All the more reason to return to your training, if he comes around looking for lazy acolytes."

The youth continued muttering under his breath, and uncaringly smacked the mace against the windowsill before he reluctantly returned to the training mats where his sparring partner was waiting impatiently.

(7:23)

Cerdan stepped over to the guild healer, who was now standing with Kretia and Tomar at the foot of Seffron's cot. The arrow was gone, and his wound had been cleaned and sealed, but the fallen lieutenant was still resting.

"I closed the wound," said the cleric of Mask, "but he lost much blood. If I were to heal him more fully, he'd be up and ready."

"No. Save your magic, we may need it later today," ordered Cerdan.

Kretia, her eyes moist and slightly red, turned on him, "How can you say that! He needs more healing now, or–"

"My orders stand. These attacks are only going to become worse as time progresses, and we need to conserve our resources." The elf knew that Kretia was the type that responded to strong direction, so he kept his tone stern as he turned to Tomar, "And you! Why are you still here? I gave you command of the scouts, now go command them!"

"I already issued their orders for now, Cerdan. Stay off my back."

The guildmaster shook his head and ran a finger over his brow, "We should be past this already. Both of you need to leave Seffron to recover on his own. You have to deal with the problem were facing here and now in the present."

Nodding her head reluctantly, Kretia looked away and said nothing.

"And what are you going to do? Put your feet up and pour yourself a drink while we do all the work?" asked Tomar.

"I have my own business matters to attend to, none of which is your concern. Try not to let the guildhouse be burned down by the time I return." The elf pulled his dark blue hood up over his head and made his way out.

Kretia waited until the guildmaster was gone before speaking, "He's changed. I remember when he used to be a flippant joker, flustering the old guildmaster with every second sentence."

"No, he's only changed toward us. Takes his job more seriously now that he answers for everything that goes on in this guildhouse. I hear he still acts like a fool halfwit around the ladies." Tomar then gestured at the guild healer and motioned for him to leave.

The lieutenants waited until they were alone, then Tomar remarked, "You're aware, of course, that he's been reducing our roles in the guild. I'm nothing more than a glorified message-boy, and we both know how he's been shrinking your assassin division."

Kretia looked down at Seffron as she spoke, "He believes there are more efficient ways to achieve goals than through murder. I'm sure he has his reasons…"

"You're willing to roll over for the elf's inability to lead us? He was never guildmaster material, you know. I was supposed to get that position, if only I hadn't been out of town when the old guildmaster was killed."

"Cerdan knows that you resent both him and his position in the guild."

"Yes. But with the way things are progressing, I don't think I'll have to worry about him much longer."

(7:30)

Norris looked up and down the street, wondering which route would be faster. After he ended up taking several wrong dead-end turns in his search for the correct path to the temple, he found his sense of direction had become somewhat less reliable. Yet another former skill atrophied away, setting him back to the basics.

And even if they did manage to find the temple in time, Norris would have to hope that the contacts Horance was supposed to join up with would recognize them. Even now, the frustration of his situation was gnawing away at him. Or perhaps that was the buzzing pain coming from the back of his neck. Whatever that poison was doing, it didn't let him forget about the danger hanging over his life.

Of course, he could almost feel the waves of frustration coming from his Kara-Tur companion. Every few minutes, the warrior would jabber a few incoherent words, and Norris would simply grunt in response, point at the white tower in the distance, and hope that the easterner would be silent and continue to follow.

"Maybe if we cut through here," Norris said aloud, even though Shen couldn't understand him. He pointed down a north-running alleyway, and motioned for the warrior to follow.

"If there is anything in this world that bears the full weight of my hatred, it's your employer, Cordas," the ex-ranger continued, feeling the need to vent his anger before his head exploded. Shen gave no response. "I was content to live out the rest of my life in exile, but that wasn't enough for him. No, the old man even had to take my solitude from me. Have me dragged out of my house in the middle of the night and brought before him for some half-baked mission with a steel-jawed foreigner who can't understand even a single word I'm saying right now!"

Again, Shen gave no response.

"Damn thug. Why they didn't just send you to chop up that ponytailed dandy, I'll never know."

Shen suddenly grabbed Norris by the arm, and the ranger spun about and instinctively raised an arm to strike the man. Then he noticed that the easterner was looking around the dark alleyway, narrowing his eyes at the shadows.

"What is it? Do you see something?" Norris squinted as well, but saw nothing but old garbage lining the walls. No, wait. The spell on his eyes made his vision sharp enough to make out a series of footprints in the mud that ended at the nearby trash heaps…

Several pieces of garbage were suddenly thrown aside, and three dagger-wielding vagabonds in dirty, tattered clothing emerged from behind the refuse piles.

"Well," snickered the tallest of the assailants, "A 'ponytailed dandy', huh? Sounds a lot like master Seffron, don't it?"

Another of the attackers flipped his dagger over in his hand as they advanced. "Aye, I'd say we've found the ones Tomar wanted for questioning. Look, that one's still carrying the bow."

Wasting no time listening to their continued banter, Shen unsheathed his blade in a fluid motion and leaped into the fray, spinning around in a whirlwind and forcing the thieves into defensive postures as they instinctively spread out around him.

"Don't stand together!" ordered the tallest opponent, "He's only one man, he can't take all three of us at once!"

For a moment, Norris was torn between moving forward to aid Shen, or fleeing to save his own life. The ex-ranger quickly came to a compromise and just stayed back, leaving the warrior to do the work.

With his long straight-edged katana, Shen continued to spin around in a circle, deflecting each of the dagger strikes in turn. Parry, parry, parry, and repeat. The three thieves quickly fell into the pattern, but none was fast enough to close in for a killing strike between blocks before the katana-wielder was facing them again.

Shen parried yet another thrusting attack, but this time he followed by ducking low and carrying his attack through in curve to the opposite direction, unexpectedly slashing the tallest of his attackers across the midsection. Wasting no time as the dead combatant dropped to the ground, Shen rolled forward behind the body and turned as he held his blade up horizontally, blocking the assailants behind him from making downward stabs with their daggers.

The warrior forcefully pushed up, knocking both their arms back, then swung his elbow around in a backward 'C', slashing each of them across the chest. The two enemies collapsed with blood running from their torsos, moaning in pain as they struggled to keep from curling up into fetal positions.

Wiping his weapon off on the dead thief, Shen stepped away from the fallen trio and bowed his head. He reversed his katana so that it was pointed down, and briefly touched the hilt of his blade to his forehead for a few seconds before opening his eyes and sheathing the weapon.

Norris swallowed uneasily as the blademaster returned. Shen babbled a few more indecipherable words, then gestured for Norris to lead on. No matter what the Kara-Turian said, the ranger now knew that his 'companion' could pose a terrible threat to his own safety. Most disturbing was the look of absolute serenity that he could see in every pore of the Kara-Tur warrior's face. Norris wondered if the warrior actually enjoyed the slaughter.

(7:43)

"That's enough training for now." Selena called to the acolytes, "You may have a ten minute break to clean up and prepare for this morning's prayer session."

There was a collective murmur of disappointment from the trainees as they hesitantly lowered their weapons and began to filter out of the sparring chambers. As they left, a cleric appeared at the entrance and waved to Selena, holding a brown envelope in his hand. The priestess straightened her yellow robes and motioned for the cleric to enter.

"Priestess Shademoor, a messenger arrived a short while ago and said that this letter was for you. I didn't want to disturb your training session, so I waited outside." The cleric passed her the envelope.

Selena turned it over in her hands and saw the black wax seal on the flap, adorned with the simple image of a three-pointed crown. The elf looked up at the cleric, "I've told you before. If anyone ever brings a message with this symbol on it, it is to be brought to me immediately." She walked with the cleric into the hallway. "So tell me, is it true that one of the Prelate's royal horsemen arrived earlier?"

"Mm, yes. I haven't been down yet to see what the reason is, but I doubt the Prelate's journey has been delayed. I went over the schedule myself, and we've all heard just how stringent he is on punctuality."

"Very well. Inform me if there are any new developments that require my attention." Selena excused herself and resigned to her private quarters.

Closing the door behind her, she went over to the lantern hanging from the ceiling, which served as the only light source in the windowless room. After pulling out the letter, she quickly broke the seal and took out the piece of paper within. The page was blank.

Reaching up, the elf opened the top of the lantern and held the blank page just over the flame within. Slowly, the transparent ink on the parchment began to react with the heat and smoke, and brown letters began to appear, burning themselves into the sheet.

The priestess quickly pulled the paper back and glanced over the contents. It was a short message bearing the following text: Meet me at the usual place. And bring money. –C.

Cerdan. Of all the days he could have possibly picked, it had to be on the day that she was giving three full lectures. Still, if he'd gone to the risk of contacting her, then it had to be important enough. Sometimes she wondered why she bothered to go to such lengths just to meet with a thief.

At one time, when she was of a stricter mindset, she would have had that man arrested and charged within a week. Now the best she could bring herself to do was glare at him and fold her arms menacingly. The elven woman tore up the note, then tossed the pieces back in the envelope and onto her desk to be disposed of later.

There was a knock on her door as she was replacing the lantern lid. The same cleric from before began speaking through the door, "Priestess? The royal horseman was an advance messenger, and he had a rather… unusual request from the High Prelate. Although I was originally supposed to be the one to guide the Prelate through the tower and city, the Prelate himself has ordered that you be tasked with that responsibility."

"Me?" Selena pulled the door open and stared at the cleric, "But I have three lectures today… and a few other things to do."

The cleric held her hands wide, "I suppose I'll have to fill in for you. We can't defy the Prelate's orders. Be ready, he'll be arriving in a few hours around eleven."

Sighing to herself, the priestess nodded and waved her colleague away before closing her door. Selena ran a finger over her forehead as she turned around, and she noticed the remnants of the black wax seal on the envelope sitting atop her desk.

"Of all the days he could have picked…"

(7:54)

With Shen following from behind, Norris passed underneath a stone archway and was pleased to see that, after so many mistaken turns, he had finally found the entrance to the nobles' district of Baldur's Gate. The wealthier sections of the city were much easier to navigate than the rest of the city, due to the larger amount of funding for paved grid roads and more visible signs here.

"Now it won't take us very long to reach the Temple of Tyr." Norris remarked back at Shen, hoping that the warrior wouldn't start getting any sneaky ideas. "Though I wonder how we're going to find the rest of Cordas' goons."

As they made their way down the street, Norris noticed that most of the people walking by were either better dressed, or better cleaned than he and Shen. Feeling strangely out of place, Norris began to sweat a little as he noticed several inquisitive heads turning toward him as he passed. He carefully tugged on the back of his jerkin so that it covered up the bandage on his neck.

After a few minutes, he realized that the civilians were most likely staring at Shen, due to his unfamiliar garb and facial features. Norris relaxed somewhat, and saw that these people were just as quickly losing interest in them as they moved further into the district.

"So, I wonder what it is we're stealing from the temple, anyway?" Norris mused as they passed a side street, "It would have to be something fairly important if–"

"Halt, citizen!"

Norris' feet scraped slightly as he stopped, and a thin line of sweat formed on his brow once more. The word 'damn' started running through his mind repeatedly. Keeping his breathing in check and turning casually, he saw four fully armed men emerging from the side street, each wearing a glowering look on their face and the dark red uniform of the Baldur's Gate city guard.

"Er, yes, officers?" Norris asked innocently, darting his eyes toward Shen. He certainly hoped that the easterner was wise enough not to cause a scene in the middle of a public upper-class neighbourhood like this.

"You two look awfully out of place here," stated the lead guard, "What is your business in this district?"

"Ah, well you see…" the ex-ranger began, scratching his neck, "We're looking for some, uh, new shoes and–"

The guard sneered slightly, and it was obvious he didn't believe a word that was said. He spoke in a low voice to his comrades, "Men, take these two away and make sure they don't cause any commotion. I have reason to believe they're the ones we've been searching for."

(8:00 AM)