Deus Ex Machina

(1:00 PM)

"Well, what an unexpectedly convenient turn," Cerdan chirped as he advanced on the pair in the alley. "A stranger holding our quarry at bay." The rogue wiped some of the blood off his upper lip, then let his hand slip to the hilt of his sword. "And what, praytell, is your business here?"

"This ranger is under my protection." The white-coat slowly lowered his arms.

"Tar that!" Norris said, breaking into a run away from the elves.

The man in white made a smooth flicking motion with his wrist, and a whipping gust of wind swept through the alley, lightly knocking both Norris and the elves to the ground. The wind quickly died down, and the stranger stood patiently as the three worked back to their feet.

"I'm afraid this is not a point for debate. There lie fires on the horizon, and more at stake than you are aware. Wheels within wheels, plans within plans, both in this city and beyond." He made a dismissive gesture, and the two flaming swords dissipated, dissolving into errant strands of light. "You three each have a part to contribute before the end comes."

He noticed that both Cerdan and Selena had hands on their weapons as they warily sized up the newcomer. "There is no need for that," he continued, "You know better than to resort to violence on a whim. Be it known that I am not one you should consider an enemy, nor do I deserve your wrath." The man lowered his eyes and shook his head again, "If you wish to save your people and most importantly, yourselves, then I beseech you to place your faith within me."

"What are you?" demanded Selena, "Some sort of wizard?"

"No, priestess. My powers are from a divine source." The man extended his arms and gave a large shrug, letting the heavy white coat drop from his shoulders to the ground.

All three of them stared silently at the man's form. Extending from the newcomer's back were two massive white-feathered wings. He flexed his wings, stretching them out against the opposite walls of the alley.

"I cannot speak of my true name, but you may address me as Cyrael… and I trust some of you are well-travelled enough to recognize the form of being that I am."

"A celestial…" Selena whispered. She probably would have bowed her head in reverence if she hadn't been so utterly flabbergasted by the man's wings.

Norris was the first to regain his wits. "I don't care what you are. If any you think I'm going to just fold and go quietly to the Tower of Tyr…"

"That will not be necessary, ranger," Cyrael said before Selena could interrupt. "As I said, a great injustice has taken place against you… and though there are many avenues through which justice may be achieved, your path leads forward, not back."

The celestial raised a hand into the air, and a small spiral of wind formed around his feet, carrying his white coat up into his grasp. Folding his wings close to his body, Cyrael draped the coat back on his shoulders. "Our quest lies to the east, in the lair of one who would be king of his own private pandemonium."

"Cordas," Norris growled, gaining a simple nod from the celestial.

Selena stepped forward and bowed slightly toward the celestial. "If that is the path we must take, then I would be honoured to offer my assistance."

"Well, that's all just great," said Cerdan, still clutching his nose. "Now that we're such a big, friendly party, maybe you'd like to share with us what today's whole mess is about." He let go and glanced down at the blood that had leaked onto his fingers. "And maybe I could get some healing before I make a puddle here."

As Selena moved to aid him, Cyrael turned and pointed down the alley. "That is where our destined path lies. Come, there is still much to do and far more to discuss."

(1:04)

"Empty the bucket into the well," instructed Dace, casually leaning on a decaying wall nearby.

"Why in the hells are we here, in some abandoned Il-mater temple?" Tavros demanded, peering down into the old well. They had not travelled far to reach this place near the edge of the docks district. "And this thing must have been tapped dry years ago." With much difficulty, he raised the pail of water in his bound hands, then dumped the water down the chute. That made at least five buckets so far. "Is this how I'm to be punished? With idiotic, menial labour?"

"Be quiet and stand away. That is probably enough water." Dace removed a coil of rope from his belt and looped one end around the handle of the empty bucket. "In a profession as hazardous as my own, one is expected to set contingencies."

With the rope firmly tied, Dace tossed the bucket into the well and slowly extended the rope until he heard a light splash. "Did you know that whenever a well dries out in Baldur's Gate, it needs to be sealed up from both the top and bottom of the chute? A hygiene issue. The cold, moist spots tend to attract larger pests from the waterways." He started tugging the rope around, fishing around for something in the well. "Something I learned a few years back while I was plotting out the various escape routes from the city."

"So now I know why this well was boarded up. I'm so glad," said Tavros, glancing to the side at the wooden planks they had removed earlier. "But what is the point of all this?"

The mercenary drew up the bucket, and Tavros saw that there was a round black object floating atop the water inside. "The point," Dace continued, "is that I now have the leverage I need for when we go to meet your boss."

Dace pulled the Sigil out of the bucket and dried it off on his cloak, then held it up for Tavros to see. The henchman stared at the image of a flame-winged angel engraved on the black, wooden amulet.

"Do you really think you'll be able to just walk through the streets with me bound like this? People will notice."

Tucking the Sigil away into a pocket, Dace began to untie the rope from the bucket. "We are currently close to Southside Row. Do you know what the people around here will do if they see a sneering, black-cloaked man leading a bound and beaten prisoner through the streets? They will stare for a moment, then glance to the side and hurry away. This is criminal territory, and the locals know well enough that wide eyes lead to trouble."

The mercenary looped the rope and attached the coil to his belt. "Start moving. Time for this little charade to end."

(1:07)

"This is a terrible part of town. I can't believe someone would stoop so low as to steal a marked warhorse of Tyr," said Selena as they walked along the rough streets of Southside Row. She sighed, then looked back toward Cerdan's injured nose.

"I told you that would happen if you left your mount unattended."

The priestess traced another magical symbol in the air, but it fizzled and went up in a puff of smoke, just like all the others. "That's odd. None of my healing spells are functioning. It's like my spells have been drained somehow…"

Cerdan coughed and looked away. "Er, so what do you think of this 'Cyrael' character?" The elf pointed ahead at the celestial. "I find it strange that you of all people would be so eager to jump on board with him."

"Please. I'm not a fool," she replied, tracing another symbol in the air. "It is possible that he is leading us on, but I find that unlikely, given his bearing and willingness to help us. If this were a trap, I would expect this crime lord to strike at us more directly than go through such an elaborate deception to win our trust.

"Besides, you're forgetting that I'm a diviner by nature. When he wasn't looking, I cast a spell to detect lies. I asked him about his motives for this quest, and didn't sense any falsehood in his little speech about 'faith' and 'destiny'. That gives me some peace of mind."

"I thought you said your magic wasn't working correctly."

"Only my curative spells, though I admit magical detection isn't always the most reliable method. We'll just have to pay attention to what he says and does." She stretched her fingers and lightly touched her holy symbol. "Hm. Nothing else feels wrong with me. I may have to transmute one of my non-healing spells." With one hand, Selena traced a slightly more complex symbol in the air, then whispered a few additional words. Her hand glowed blue for a moment, and the priestess touched Cerdan on the nose. "There, that takes care of it."

The stinging pain lingered, but the bleeding stopped. Cerdan brought a small cloth from his pocket and wiped the remaining blood away from his nose. "Thanks. So what do we do about him?" He gestured ahead at Norris.

Selena shrugged, "The celestial seems convinced that the wayward ranger can be redeemed. Justice does depend on repentance and absolution, in my opinion at least. I will defer to the celestial's judgment for now, so long as this Norris Delaen proves willing to change."

(1:09)

"I'm not going to change," Norris stated flatly, not bothering to even look at Cyrael. "I'm sure you mean well, but it's a little late for the whole sin and repentance deal. All I want now is to cut out Cordas' slimy heart and serve it to him on his own silver tea platter."

"Is hatred really enough? You should focus your vision upon the grander picture."

The ranger glanced over his shoulder at the elves and noticed they were lagging behind, out of earshot. "I've been living with this hatred for nearly a decade. Now it's all that I have left. So please, don't try to take that away from me."

"You may yet have a life to look forward to."

Norris scoffed, "Yes, maybe eighteen hours or so." He winced at the pain in his chest and neck, and a few stars appeared in his field vision.

Cyrael suddenly reached over and placed a hand against the back of Norris' neck. The spot glowed with yellow light for a moment, and Norris' pain began to dull slightly. The poisonous threat lingered, but his movements did not feel as restrictive now.

"I can merely dull the senses." Cyrael said, "Only Cordas, with his antidote, can repair the physical pain. But the pain that you feel here…" The celestial placed a hand over his heart. "That is something only you can heal.

"I am your salvation, but it is up to you to come to terms with your own inner demons, ranger. You've already shown that you are capable of trusting others. But if you wish to feel peace, you will have to learn to trust yourself."

Norris let out a slightly irritated sigh, but didn't say anything. Probably because he just wanted the celestial to stop talking. Why this divine being would be so interested in the ranger's life was beyond his imagination.

Cyrael shrugged and looked forward along the open road and pointed to a building in the distance. "There. Is that the base of the criminal leader, Cordas?"

"Yes." Norris balled his hands into fists and began to hurry forward with renewed focus.

"Come," Cyrael called back to the elves, "Destiny approaches!"

(1:10)

"Now this is unusual," spoke Cerdan, coming up beside the others. He cocked his head toward the building down the road. "That's Cordas' hideout, isn't it? Looks like there isn't a single person guarding the place."

"Perhaps they're hidden at lookouts nearby?" suggested the priestess.

The thief shook his head, "These amateur criminal gangs, they're all about brute strength and bluster. They need to keep their muscle visible to scare off their rivals and the clueless locals."

"He's right," Norris murmured, "when I left this place earlier today, there were at least half a dozen armed men patrolling outside."

"Also," continued the elf, "unless I'm mistaken, the place is a whorehouse. I would've expected more clientele passing in and out."

"But it's still early in the afternoon..." said Selena.

A sly grin appeared on Cerdan's face, "You really do lead a cloistered life, don't you?" He waved a hand at Norris, "These humans, they mate at all hours of the day, every day. No wonder they seem to run rampant through the world like rabbits. At any rate, it's probably best if I scout the place out first."

"Be careful."

"Hey, it's me, remember?" Cerdan winked at her, then slinked away toward the brothel.

(1:11)

The remaining elf turned to Norris. "As we await his return, I have some questions to ask of you."

"I already told you, elf, I won't answer to your little inquisition." Norris sneered and made a furtive gesture in her direction. "If you want information, you're going to have to drag me away in chains and go back to interrogating me in a stone cell."

Despite Norris' displeasure, the priestess persisted. "When I first encountered you earlier today, I took you for a mere ruffian, even worse than his type," she said, gesturing off in the direction Cerdan had gone. "Imagine my surprise when I learned from the temple archives that you were once the dedicated protector of a small town out in the Cloakwood forest. How could a person with your background possibly fall so far? It goes beyond my knowledge."

Mumbling a few unintelligible words under his breath, Norris simply crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall, glaring ahead at the crimelord's base.

"You should be more grateful for my continued tolerance. Were it not for his assurance," she said, pointing behind at the celestial. "I would have you arrested on the spot and 'dragged away in chains' as you put it."

"That's the problem with you mindless lawbringers; all you think about is punishing people," growled the ranger. "Maybe you'd be in a position to actually help people for a change if you weren't so blind and deaf to their needs."

The priestess folded her arms, mirroring Norris' stance. "Preposterous. My temple is completely devoted to providing–"

"Your temple is located smack in the middle of the nobles' district, conveniently surrounded by some of the wealthiest sods in the city. I wonder how many chests of coin went into that looming eyesore." He shielded his eyes from the sun and gazed at the white tower in the distance.

"You're making my people sound like profit-driven merchants. That couldn't be further from the truth."

"There's a solid gold statue of Tyr towering inside your temple entrance that would imply otherwise. See, faithmonger, your order has put a price on life, and people suffer for it." He motioned toward the various cripples and vagrants lining the streets of Southside Row.

"Your perception is flawed. My people make every effort to reach out to these unfortunates."

"Hmph. 'Unfortunates.' Bah, we've wasted enough time here." Norris pushed away from the wall and moved toward Cordas' hideout. "I won't wait for your friend any longer. For all we know, Cordas might already be aware of our approach."

Letting out another sigh, Selena sent a pleading glance toward Cyrael, but he just looked on quietly with his brow furrowed slightly, curiosity plain on his face. The celestial nodded in Norris' direction and paced after the ranger.

"I pray this entourage doesn't grow any worse beyond its present members," the elf whispered to herself as she hurried after the others. "Working with thieves and outlaws... how utterly degrading."

(1:14)

Cerdan peeked inside another window around the side of the building. "Hm. Not a harlot in sight. Pity."

Thus far, the elf hadn't seen a single sign of life within Cordas' hideout, which led him to wonder if Norris was dragging the party on a goose chase. In any case, Cerdan knew his next move was to quietly break inside for a more thorough search of the brothel.

At the edge of his vision, a dark object suddenly moved. The elf twisted his head in time to spot someone's boot retreat around the corner of the building.

"Hold there, I say!" the thief called out, rushing forth in pursuit. When he approached the bend, a black-gloved hand struck out from behind the corner at face level, and the elf's momentum brought his nose crashing into the waiting fist.

Cerdan grunted as soon as he made contact and stumbled backward, clutching his bleeding nose for the second time within the hour. A cloaked figure in black emerged from around the brick wall, stretching his fingers as he stared at the elf.

"I have a tendency to never forget a face," he said, rubbing his knuckles. Dace let his other hand drop to the side of his belt. "And unless I am mistaken, we have skirmished before."

The elf's eyes widened for a moment, then quickly narrowed into a glare. "I remember you... as I recall, you're supposed to be in prison right now." Cerdan reached for his sword, but the mercenary leaped forward and seized the thief by the wrist.

Dace pivoted and drove his other elbow out, slamming the elf in the side of the head before he could counter. Blurriness overtook Cerdan's vision, and he staggered back in a daze. As he flailed his arms trying to escape the mercenary's grasp, he was able to briefly spot a sharp metallic object appear in Dace's free hand.

In an instant, Cerdan felt the edge of a dagger pressed firmly across his throat, close enough that he could feel his own pulse beating against the metal. The elf froze and slowly extended his hands to the side, open-palmed.

"Now this interests me." Dace removed the elf's sword with his other hand and briefly glanced at the symbols marking the hilt. "This is the insignia of a Shadow Thief... and a high ranking one at that. Speak, are you working with Cordas?" He pressed his question further by applying slightly more force to the blade.

"Well, given my edgy predicament, I'll work for whoever you want me to."

"Not the smartest answer you could provide, elf. I have slain greater people for lesser slights..." The mercenary took the dagger away from Cerdan's throat and prodded the elf in the back. "Fortunately for you, my need for information outweighs my usual ruthlessness." Dace forced the elf into a march toward the back of the building.

Cerdan rubbed at his neck. No doubt this mercenary was just as confused as the Shadow Thief by the lack of people within the building. As they passed into the dim light, Cerdan saw that the building had a rear door, currently held ajar by a pile of something among the shadows on the ground. When they neared the entrance, Dace pushed the door open all the way with his foot, then motioned with the dagger for the elf to go inside.

On closer inspection, Cerdan saw that the pile on the ground was actually another human, this one bound by the ankles and wrists. A number of fresh, heavy bruises over his face and head made it clear that this man was out cold.

Cerdan knew that the smartest thing he could do was break off and return with Selena and the others at his back. On the other hand, the mercenary's involvement in this whole matter sparked the elf's curiosity. He glanced at his captor's scowling face, and felt certain that this was the same man he'd once fought several years before... on the day of the Verskul incident. The same day that the whole mess with the Sigils first started.

"Your name is Dace, isn't it?" Cerdan asked, "As I remember, you were sailed off to Lancam's Isle. We saw to that ourselves."

"Apparently, the notion of justice in this city is less rigid than one would think." Dace pointed toward the unconscious person. "Drag him inside. It is past time the three of us had a short talk."

(1:18)

"Those bleeding cowards! The place is deserted," Norris fumed, knowing that his revenge against Cordas would be delayed once more. He turned about in a circle, gazing into each of the open rooms that were connected with the foyer. There wasn't a soul he could see, and Norris needed every fibre of self-control to keep from tearing up all the furniture within reach.

"Is it truly such an important thing to seize?" asked Cyrael, coming up behind the ranger. "Revenge, I speak of."

"Why do you keep pestering about that? My mental well-being is such a concern to you?" He said with a sneer on his face.

"As an astral deva, it is my nature to be concerned about matters on the Prime Material. Of course, you are a unique case..."

Norris rolled his eyes and started forward into the nearest parlour room, leaving muddy footprints on the plush red carpet. "Really. Let me guess, this is the part in a bard's tale where you start going on in your dramatic, echoing voice about how I'm some 'chosen saviour', and that I'm humanity's lone hope against a great destruction that will be brought upon us by some cosmic face of villainy."

The celestial chuckled softly. "There would be little point in that. Humanity needs no more hope. But yours is certainly not some grand epic. Suffice to say, like all those involved in our quest, you have a role to play before your life reaches a close."

"The only role I'm interested in is part where I mount Cordas' wrinkly head on a spear and burn his criminal empire to the earth."

"Empire? That would be stretching the truth to fill your flawed expectations, wouldn't you say?"

When the celestial's words touched Norris' ears, he halted and shot a glare back.

Cyrael continued, "Unlike you, I see the trials of your past through clear panes." The white-coat moved his hand in an arc and made five small moth-like flames appear in the air, each of which almost immediately went out in a tiny puff of smoke. "Five young adventurers, travelling the city for the first time. Led on by the protector of their rural village, one Ranger Norris Delaen."

"I don't want to hear this!" shouted Norris, taking a step toward the celestial with his hands clenched into fists.

Cyrael grabbed the man by the shoulder, forcing him to halt. "And yet, this is exactly what you need to hear. There is no choice in this matter; you will never be ready to face your present without first making peace with your past." Norris' grimace remained etched on his face, but he stopped trying to break from the celestial's solid grasp.

"When your village went through a period of drought, your party came to Baldur's Gate seeking trade. It is an unusual thing for a forest ranger to leave his lands in order to visit these human hives, but I imagine you believed you owed a duty to those friends. A duty that you have since turned into a weight upon your soul." Cyrael's dark eyes seemed to stare into the ranger's heart.

The celestial went on, "Your journey required a pass through the city's Old Quarter... but this happened on the same day that zealots from a Talonite cult unleashed a cursed plague in that district."

Norris swallowed and lowered his head.

"One by one, your friends collapsed from the malady, leaving you standing amongst the fallen as the sole survivor." Cyrael shook his head slightly and released his hold on the ranger's arm. "Now speak unto me, is that why you fault yourself? Because random luck happened to spare you outside the others' fate? For years you have lived with a burden of shame, borne of your original duty. But it is you and you alone that created this burden. If you truly wish to be free of it, then it depends on a choice made by you, not a warped sense of retaliation against Cordas or anyone else."

"They weren't dead yet," Norris suddenly murmured, still not looking up. "My friends... I was able to have them brought to the nearest temple, but the clerics at the old church of Tyr refused to cure and restore them without several thousand gold pieces each. Not a small task for a rural woodsman who had never even seen a city before."

"Wait," said Selena, surprising the pair as she approached from one of the other rooms in the hallway. "Is that why you hold such a grudge against me and my kind? Because you were too poor? I'm sure if you had explained your lack of wealth to the clerics..."

"I don't recall giving you permission to listen in and judge me, priestess," he snapped back, cursing her elven ears. Norris abruptly turned his back on them and entered the next room. "We should be hounding Cordas, not jawing on about my life."

"Indeed," spoke a new voice from the far side of the room. "I have no desire to hear any more of this self-centred lamenting..."

Norris froze as a lanky man dressed in black stepped into view between the door frame at the room's opposite end. His dark form blocked most the sunlight in the doorway, creating a slight nimbus around him. "...And there is so much for us to discuss."

(1:24)

Selena's hand instantly dropped to the handle of her mace as she stared across the room at the newcomer. "Dace..."

From the side, she vaguely noticed Norris glancing back and forth between her and the mercenary. "Who is this? Another of Cordas' goons?"

"He's a criminal of the worst element," Selena answered before Dace could reply. "I don't know how you escaped from prison, but I'll gladly see to it that you return!" She bent her knees slightly and held her mace upright, expecting the mercenary to blast forward at any moment.

She saw that Cyrael had adopted a similarly cautious stance with the flaming swords conjured in the celestial's hands once more. This reassured the elf that her instincts were right; the celestial seemed like a perceptive sort, and the fact that he was more suspicious of Dace than of Norris made it clear that the assassin was without a doubt their enemy.

Dace shifted his eyes between all three of his opponents, obviously sizing them up as potential threats. His brow furrowed slightly when he looked at Cyrael. Surprisingly, the mercenary then smirked at Selena, as if someone had just told him a joke. "Ah yes, the cleric of justice who spearheaded the case against me at my trial. Now it starts to make sense." He looked to the side at someone in the room he had entered from.

"By the authority of Tyr," Selena called, "I order you to surrender and submit to arrest!" Her knuckles went white as she gripped her mace.

The smirk vanished from Dace's lips, and the priestess half expected the man to charge. Instead, he simply folded his arms. "I know that you will do no such thing, cleric. I can see by your companions' attire and weaponry that they are not officials of justice. It is interesting that a cleric of Tyr would be associating with the criminals and thieves of Southside Row."

"I have done no such thing, now surr-"

"Really." Dace suddenly leaned over to the side, behind the door frame, and dragged Cerdan across the floor into view. Selena could see that the elf was gagged and had his hands and ankles tied with rope, but appeared otherwise unharmed.

"I am certain that neither of us is interested in idleness, so do not attempt to deny your relationship with this Shadow Thief," Dace said to Selena, "I know that you are both in cooperation, and that you are likely here for the same reason as I: one crimelord by the name of Cordas."

Selena felt her lip twitch involuntarily. "That thief means nothing to me."

"Very well. I warned you not to waste my time." Dace suddenly reached to the side again, this time bringing out Cerdan's longsword. In a quick motion, the mercenary swept the blade across at the bound elf.

"No, stop!" Selena shouted, breaking forward in a run. Even Cyrael had thrown his coat off and was charging forward, wings at full span.

But before either combatant could even come close to the mercenary, Dace raised the sword, pointing the tip forward. Not a drop of blood stained the blade. A cleanly severed piece of rope hung atop the blade, dangling in the air. Selena and Cyrael slowed to a stop when they saw Cerdan remained unharmed.

Dace kicked Cerdan in the foot, "Your legs are now free. Go join your allies on the other side of this standoff." As the elf struggled up, Dace lowered the longsword and tossed it to the carpet. He addressed Selena again, "I am, above all else, a practical man. We have a common goal in-"

"I care not, fugitive. You're mad if you think I'll work with twisted serial killer."

"Those words may come a little later," Dace muttered as he surveyed her companions. If the killer was at all perturbed by Cyrael's wings, he showed no outward sign of it. "However, you are wrong about one thing: I am no fugitive." From his leather jerkin, he removed a rolled parchment which he tossed toward the priestess. "This morning I was granted an official pardon from one of the city leaders. The Ducal insignia on the orders appears to be genuine."

"This must be some kind of mistake..." Selena scanned the exonerating document, but could find no apparent faults. "Why would a Duke of Baldur's Gate have you set free?"

"A more pressing question is how said orders ended up in the hands of a criminal gang that dared an attempt to control me like a slave. That is why I am willing to set aside our past conflicts... I have some affairs to settle with the man known as Cordas."

Selena saw that Cerdan was on his feet and gesturing with his bound hands at the gag over his mouth. Keeping the mercenary in sight, she began to remove the rope around his wrists.

Dace suddenly pointed at Norris, "I overheard you say that you wanted Cordas dead. I can help you reach that goal, but this service does not come freely." The mercenary tilted his gaze slightly, staring directly across into Selena's eyes. "I require a written contract for my part this mission."

"This is madness," she scoffed, "If you think I'll sully my reputation by keeping company such as yours, you're terribly mistaken."

Cerdan immediately interrupted as the gag was removed from his mouth. "Hold on there, priestess. Maybe you shouldn't be so quick to judge such an opportunity."

The priestess of Tyr turned her head and gaped at the thief.

"Oh, don't give me that look. I'm the head of a very illegal band of thieves who regularly commit very illegal activities. Believe me, I've worked with people who are far more vile and wicked than this chap." He tossed his bonds aside, "Sure, he had me tied me up just now, but I don't hold a grudge. It's a distant cry from damage he dealt to the other fellow he's got roped up in the back room..." His shoulders gave a shrug in reply to the anger on her face. "Sometimes, people just need to swallow their pride. Even elves like us, Selena."

Dace slammed his boot heel against the floor to claim their attention once more. "Enough idling. Let me make this issue of trust clear: I cannot be trusted. In any other situation, were I to gain by doing so, I would not hesitate to stab you in the back.

"However, I am a professional." The mercenary let a hand disappear into another pocket. "I will obey the terms of any formal contract we establish, provided that none of you turn against me. And if you require an additional token to go with my offer..." He whipped a black disc through the air, prompting the others to step back slightly as it touched the ground near Selena's feet.

The red-haired elf stared down at the object with wide eyes, then quickly snatched it up, holding it high. "The second Sigil... great gods, where did you find this artifact!"

"A consolation payment from the day Verskul attempted to destroy the city. I faced considerable obstacles reclaiming it. Think on that before you so quickly dismiss my momentary goodwill."

Glancing toward the others, the priestess could tell that Norris and Cyrael were suspicious of the mercenary, though neither was upset enough to refuse his offer out loud. Come to think of it, beyond the astral deva's word, Selena didn't even have much reason to trust Norris either. Even Cerdan's motives were starting to seem questionable.

Sighing to herself, the priestess shook her head of these doubts and reluctantly lowered her weapon arm. This was no time to develop paranoia. Adhering to duty was her objective. If she had to endure the presence of morally bankrupt types like Norris and Dace, then so be it.

At least the celestial was here among them. That gave her some reassurance that they were indeed following the just path laid out by Tyr.

Locking eyes with the mercenary, Selena spoke for the group, "I take it you have a price for your... services?"

"Two conditions. First, you swear an oath that I shall not be arrested or harmed, by any of you, during or after this mission. Also, I demand safe passage out of the city to a place of my choosing when I decide that our task is done. Preferably by boat." He shifted his eyes toward Cerdan. "I imagine your guild has ample resources for that."

"Fine," said Selena, "but only if you agree not to kill anyone we meet. I cannot and will not condone murder for any reason, regardless of the circumstances. How I wish we had a wizard with a geas spell available."

"So be it. I will retrieve the local thug who possesses the information we need." He started for one of the rooms back the way he came and called over his shoulder, "I want my conditions in writing."

"So do I!" Selena shot back, refusing to let him have the last word.

Selena glowered at the black-hearted mercenary while the others seemed to calm down slightly. Cerdan moved off without a word, probably to fetch writing implements for the aforementioned contract. The priestess sniffed indignantly, disappointed that the guildmaster would be so quick to toss aside all their past experience with the mercenary. The half-wit was likely overeager to make a new contact for his criminal network. How utterly appalling.

Cyrael suddenly laid a hand upon Selena's shoulder, leaning in slightly toward her ear. "Be wary of that one, for he carries within him more than can be seen with the eye alone. Mark these words, and know that I speak the truth: So long as the dark soul remains here, there will be a betrayal from within this party."

She nodded in response, somewhat annoyed that the celestial was telling her what she already knew. Of course the mercenary was a threat to their safety. The question was what contingencies Selena could prepare in the time that she had just bought through their uneasy alliance...

(1:35)

Such cold and sparse furnishings, Cordas thought to himself, certainly a marked difference to my main office. Not even a chair to rest upon. He checked his pocketwatch again. Hopefully the crimelord's agents would be ready to strike in a short while. After that, there would be no going back.

This would have been the time for him to check in with Lord Pryus once more, but because Cordas' mirror was still in the office back at his estate, Pryus would have no choice but to wait in silence. The red lord had eyes everywhere, and Cordas knew he couldn't risk leaving this hideaway place. Sighing audibly, the crimelord wished that he'd brought some tea along to calm his nerves.

"Sir," spoke one of his men, "Norris has arrived at the estate. Apparently he has a band of allies alongside for aid."

"Oh? That's surprising, especially for him. No matter. Is there any sign that they're aware of the safe room?"

"I cannot say. But I assure you, they won't find us."

The old man nodded, he already knew that. At this point, Norris was nothing more than an afterthought. He'd be done with soon enough, probably long before the poison killed him. Nonetheless, Cordas checked the vial of antidote and made sure it was still secure in his breast pocket. "What of our agents? Have they taken up their assigned positions yet?"

"Aye, they've been instructed to slay anyone they find as soon as they enter their target building. It will commence as soon as the new hour dawns."

Cordas nodded and dismissed the underling, returning to his thoughts. Right now, his major concern was the seizure of the Sigils. The two artifacts would appease Pryus, but after that Cordas knew he would have to relocate to another city if he wanted to truly sever all ties with his domineering lord.

The old man closed the face of the pocketwatch, but continued to hold it in his palm. The players were set, and the pieces were already moving. All that remained was a measure of patience for just a few more hours.

(1:38)

"It doesn't look like you hurt him in self-defense," Selena dryly observed. Dace shrugged and continued to tie Tavros to the heavy oak table. As she surveyed the unclean walls of the small storage room, the priestess began to regret giving her approval for an interrogation of this henchman. "In fact, judging by his wounds, it looks like you intentionally beat him just short of causing permanent damage."

"Any injuries that he sustained, he brought on himself." The mercenary tugged the rope around Tavros' wrist before stepping back a moment to ensure that everything was in place.

The elven woman's better sense was telling her to leave this corrupt place and report the matter the nearest city guardsman as quickly as possible. Simply being in the presence of this vile murderer made her feel like a lesser being.

And yet, part of her also felt honour-bound to remain here and let events unfold. Some implicit obligation to Cerdan for all the times he'd helped her over the past few years, perhaps?

Duty takes priority to any minor moral doubts I may have, she justified, No choice but to lay aside my own misgivings and see this through, regardless of how ethically weak these people may be. It's up to me to find this Cordas, as well as Caden the Bloodletter.

That last name lingered at the forefront of her mind as she watched Dace secure the prisoner. The Prelate had described the Bloodletter as a cold, merciless mass-murderer with no qualms about slaughtering his own underlings. Selena couldn't shake the nagging sense of apprehension when she looked at Dace. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that the Bloodletter was cut of the same cloth as the black-hearted mercenary before her.

Selena pulled Cerdan aside and began to whisper in elvish, "This isn't right. I fear we may be making a mistake by putting our faith in this monster. He could easily turn his back on this so-called 'contract' and murder us all." The priestess touched her holy symbol of Tyr. "Especially the two of us; we're the ones responsible for sending him to prison in the first place!"

Cerdan tapped his chin. "As I recall, all we did level the charges against him. He pleaded guilty to every crime I was able to uncover from his past. He didn't even try to contest your accusations. I tell you, he's a strange one, but I don't think he has the mentality of the usual traitorous crooks we tend to encounter."

"You are taking a terribly large risk, you realize."

The rogue grinned, "That's how I keep my life interesting. Come now, don't you trust my judgment?"

"I'm seriously starting to wonder," she said, not returning the smile. "I feel unwell remaining near this criminal. Perhaps I should check on Norris and the celestial."

The rogue nodded and opened the door for her. As she passed, she leaned in close to his ear. "Mind him carefully, and make sure he doesn't harm the captive any further. I won't stand for any killing, justified or not, and I will hold you responsible should this man succumb to death."

(1:42)

Cerdan poked his head outside as she disappeared down the hall, then quickly closed the door and turned toward Dace.

"She has the right heart," said the elf, shaking his head with a slight smile. "But gods help her if she isn't a little naive to the way things work in the real world." Cerdan nodded toward Tavros. "Think he'll tell us where this Cordas fellow is hiding?"

Dace reached for his belt and removed a long steel dagger, "Not without persuasion. You do not share the priestess' hesitation, I take it."

"Of course not, though I did promise that he'd be kept alive."

"He will live long enough to talk. If you object, then have the priestess try to send me off to prison again." The mercenary ran a finger across the blade of the weapon. He kept his eyes fixed on the edge, not even paying the elf a glance. "Lancam's Isle is a harsh place, you know. Were I a less disciplined man, I would have slain both you and your companions the moment I recognized your face.

"But I am stable enough to recognize my past actions, and there is no gain from holding grudges for a fate that I deserved." He suddenly slammed the dagger point-first into the table, letting it quiver on end in the space between the unconscious prisoner's legs. "But mark this: I take my work seriously, and the last three employers that failed to honour their contracts are all dead. Do not forget that you will owe me transport from this city."

Cerdan arched an eyebrow. "My, everyone's grown so bold today! Threatening the guildmaster seems to be turning into a trend. Rest assured, mercenary, I'm a man of my word."

"One more weakness on your part. So be it. Now, it is time we woke Tavros."

(1:46)

The heavy teapot smashed into the office wall, falling to the floor in dozens of wet ceramic shards. Judging by the lingering warmth of the tea, Norris knew that he had just missed Cordas. The crimelord most likely fled through the mirror portal that stood at the very back of the room, sealing it before they arrived. The ranger glared across into the mirror's reflection and was disgusted by the sickly, sunken-eyed man that stared back.

Norris tore his gaze away and briefly considered destroying another piece of the antique tea set that sat atop the old man's desk. But deep down, the ranger knew that Cordas likely wouldn't even care; the old man never let himself get attached to possessions.

"And just what purpose have you achieved through your wanton destruction?" asked Cyrael. Norris scowled at the annoying sound of the outworlder's echoing voice. "Does shattering this mortal's belongings sate your gnawing hunger for vengeance?"

"I'll feel better when I see the last breath leave Cordas' lips."

"But will that be the end? What do you expect to receive, should you succeed in slaying him? Praise? Your honour as a ranger?"

Norris waved his hand, gesturing for the celestial to leave him be. "You keep talking as if you think I have a life to look forward to. I have less than a day left to live, no less than I deserve..."

"Why is it so crucial that you hold your anger so tightly?" Cyrael asked, placing his hands together.

Norris levelled his gaze at the mirror again. "...Because it's mine. Because it's all I have."

"You may have more in your favour than you think," Cyrael whispered.

After he spoke, the elven priestess entered and leaned in close to the deva. "Dace is downstairs questioning the captive. It may take some time before we learn anything."

"You did not send away the blackheart? Nothing good will come of his partaking in our quest."

"Yes, well, my friend seems to disagree. As much as I want to be free of the murderer, Cerdan believes he could be an asset. For what it's worth."

The celestial frowned at this, "I see... mayhap the thief has his reasons. But know this: none shall be safe in the blackheart's company."

"Safe..." Norris echoed, staring at the broken ceramic on the ground. "When I worked for him before, Cordas had a hidden safe room down in the basement. A hideaway spot in case the town guards ever busted the brothel. Perhaps we'll find someone hiding down there."

As the ranger moved past, Selena gave a slight nod. "Very well. Lead the way."

(1:50)

"Ten minutes to two," Cordas said to his pocketwatch. "It has likely started by now."

One of his underlings cleared his throat. "And what shall we do about Norris and his allies?"

"Mm, it won't be of much consequence, even if they do manage to activate Pryus' mirror." The old man ran a thumb along the base of his jaw. "Still, perhaps we should be certain. Have the Easterner brought before me. We may as well make use of that one until he has expired."

The agent clicked his boots against the stone floor and proceeded toward the door.

"And don't forget to bring my disguise!" Cordas called after the man, "There is only a short time left to prepare."

(1:51)

In the nobles' district of the city, a small group of men and women turned off the main city street, making their way up the clean marble path to the Tower of Tyr. Up ahead, the band's leader could see a number of knights standing guard at the entry gates. As the band neared, they could see that there was a small crowd of city residents, mostly peasants, many sporting various wounds or clutching crying babies. Despite the throng's pleas, the paladins were turning away the impoverished folk without so much as a sympathetic word. Interestingly enough, the knights seemed to be permitting entry to those with much more regal attire.

"Excuse me, my lords and ladies," said one of the gate paladins, bowing low to the band's leader. "If you require temple services, I'm afraid you must each be searched. There was a slight incursion here this morning, and we must be vigilant."

The lead man adjusted the folds of his silk sash and removed his feathered hat, dabbing at his brow with a kerchief. "Then do so, paladin, and be quick about it! We have little desire to remain out here in the blazing sun, lest it burn our complexion." He gripped the metal emblem that was affixed to the sash over his breast. "And keep your filthy hands away from our insignias. These clearly mark us as official representatives of Duke Ryloch and I'll not let you sully them with your touch, in case such etiquette is forgotten in whatever low social circles you frequent."

Remaining silent though the berating, the gate paladins hurried to finish their search of the nobles' clothing, but found no weapons or thieves' tools on their persons. The knights quickly waved for the group to pass through, then returned their attention to barring entry to the pleading peasant folk.

Sniffing slightly, the lead man swept his hat back on and moved past the gate threshold, leading the rest of his company in tow. They made a direct line for the golden statue of Tyr at the centre of the spacious foyer and paused for a moment to gaze up at the stern visage on the idol's face.

"Ugly ol' bastard, ain't he?" mumbled the leader under his breath. His comrades chuckled quietly and nodded in consent. Without waiting further, the 'nobles' spread out around the statue's platform, taking positions so that they were spread evenly around the circular base.

The leader glanced around at the paladins and clerics scurrying about like fools. Satisfied that no one was watching, he looked back to ensure that his own people were in their places, all facing outward from the statue and with their hands ready at their sides.

A smirk appeared on the man's face as he heard the city clock tower begin to chime in the distance. He flexed his fingers and spoke aloud, "Time to begin."

In unison, each 'noble' reached for the Ducal insignia on his or her silk sash and nonchalantly tore the emblem away. The leader closed his eyes and shouted a series of arcane words that Cordas had instructed him to speak. Immediately, the company's emblems blazed to life like blue fires, and the men and women pitched the missiles down, smashing the objects upon the temple floor before them.

By this time, the followers of Tyr had taken notice and were now advancing on the group, but it was too late. The emblems simultaneously exploded on the ground, sending an azure shockwave outward in a circle, away from the nobles' at the middle room. The infiltrators stood impassively as the magical force left a massive wave of cold in its wake, freezing a thick layer of ice over the ground and any objects that were caught in the blast.

Each paladin or cleric was immobilized, instantly frozen from the ground up, many with their swords partly drawn or hands raised in mid-spell. A few seconds was all it took for the frigid damage to rob the last heartbeats from the faithful of Tyr.

The lead saboteur smirked and pulled his hat down tightly, satisfied that the magic woven into their expensive attire would spare them from the icy death. He licked his lips slightly as he stared at the morbid ice statues around the wide foyer, certain that Cordas would be satisfied with their results thus far.

Now it was time for the real fun to start.

(2:00 PM)

Note: All author's notes will be posted in my forum from now on.