"Is it done?"
Even as the words left her mouth, Queen Ellesime knew what the answer would be. Faithful Elhan, standing at her side and loyal to a fault, for over a hundred years. No matter what his thoughts about her decisions, he would obey- and he allowed himself one moment of questioning, one statement of reassurance that the Queen had truly wished to let the Bhaalspawn and his companions reach the ancient grove before agreeing to show them the way. Still, she waited for the golden-helmed elf to finish his approach, remove his helm and bow before replying.
"As you commanded, my Queen. I brought them to the outer edges of the wards, then led my company back to the city. They should be able to find their way back and be on their way before night falls. 'Tis a heavy rain though- it will not be a pleasant journey." that last bit was more of an afterthought than anything else, but Ellesime nodded, inferring more than was probably meant. Ever since she had melded with Greywulf's mind for a time, looked upon the full extent of the taint that lurked within him, her thoughts had been occupied with how best to prepare, how best to lead her city in preparation for the time that was rapidly upon them.
The invasion by a Bhaal-fueled Irenicus had shown her just how vulnerable Suldenesselar could be to those with the power and the will to strike. If another Bhaalspawn, not even Greywulf or Imoen, took it upon themselves to strike her city in their taint-filled madness, could she protect them? Suldenesselar's greatest defense was always the way in which it remained hidden from those without the power or knowledge of the ancients- or with the help of an artifact such as the Rhynn Lanthorn, now safely guarded within the vaults of the Palace of Suldenesselar itself, at least until the Temple at the Underdark entrance could be rebuilt. If its location were made known, how long a siege could they withstand? For all the vaunted strength of the elves, they were spread dangerously thin for the moment. The Wood Elves of Tethyr were recovering from the aid they'd sent to Suldenesselar, and would be loathe to fight another battle so soon. The druids of Trademeet were still leaderless, and would be slow to respond to any cry for help. Suldenesselar itself had been nearly decimated in the invasion, and Elhan had only a few hundred trained elves under his command. Letherel, perhaps, was their last bastion of strength, its defenses largely still intact and unharmed. The elves that guarded it were among the forces that pushed back the drow in the city itself, and had never taken the heavy losses that front-line fighting had inflicted upon the others.
No, Suldenesselar was not as well protected as it should have been. It would take time for them to restore their strength. Time that was in short supply. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting her magics flow from within and seek out the presences of those who had departed her city. It was difficult to find the individuals, but the taints stood out like a flame in the dark. After touching it once, it was unmistakable. There... the untamed beast that lurked inside of the sorcerer, visible like a raw, open wound. Beside him, the sheer, untested power that Imoen kept within. It had yet to be released, but it was right there, fainter, quieter.
A flash of darkness in the light of the spirit world made Ellesime frown, jolted from her concentration. She regained it within moments, searching for the glimmer of obsidian, the darkness she'd just felt, just seen... but it was nowhere to be found. What had she seen, exactly? A reflection of the taint within Greywulf and Imoen? A simple resonance from their presence? Ellesime opened her eyes, her brow furrowing in confusion as she tried to decipher the meaning of what she'd just witnessed.
"If you will permit me, I should say that you look uncertain. Is something wrong?" Elhan ventured, breaking the Queen's train of thought. It was unlike the daughter of the Seldarine to look so... pensive. She was always so decisive, so certain of herself. To a fault, some might say. She looked up from the spot on the marble floors she'd been staring at for the past few minutes, a slight smile crossing her face as she shook her head.
"No... just a passing thought. Elhan, you have done well, as always. I would ask you to prepare a small band of your archers and shadow the Bhaalspawn until they have left the wood. If at all possible, do not let them know that you are watching." she added at the end, before smiling wryly at the quirk of curiosity at Elhan's features, a question in his eyes that he would dare not vocalize himself. "This is not, despite what you may think, to ensure that they leave our lands. I simply... I have a feeling of unease. Perhaps it is nothing- but I would have you watch nonetheless."
"As you would have it." Elhan nodded, donning his helm once more.
X X X X X X
An unusually harsh rain was pouring through the cover that the forest limbs and foliage provided, drenching the five travelers long before they had reached the outskirts of the grove. All of them had their wool cloaks and hoods wrapped around them, trying to find some measure of protection from the rain, but there was none to be found. The miserable conditions were enough to make Greywulf wonder if he was wasting their time here; whether they really could wait this mess out at Suldenesselar, avoid the prophecies altogether from there. Just tossing around the idea in his head for more than a half-second was enough for him to know that it was impossible; aside from their unofficial exile by the elves of the city, there was simply no way that he could pass on this kind of responsibility. He'd seen what had happened to those with the blood of Bhaal that simply rested, simply tried to live normal lives and let the decisions of fate fall as they may. He'd seen the terror in their eyes as they were trampled underfoot, slaughtered without pity or remorse. He saw it every night that he tried to do the same in Suldenesselar.
The darkest days the Realms had ever seen were coming soon; like it or not, he and Imoen would play some part. What part that was, he didn't know yet- but if the prophecies were to be believed, the rivers of Faerun would run red with blood. By his hand? By Imoen's? They'd all seen what the Slayer could do. Some of them had seen what could come about if Imoen were to succumb to her taint. If the Realms were to survive, there had to be a balance. There had to be those devoted to protecting, rather than murdering. It was just the luck of the draw that the gods had once again dropped that responsibility squarely on their shoulders.
Fair? No, not really. but life wasn't fair. He'd learned that when he'd watched Gorion murdered before his eyes, when he'd found out who his true father was... when he'd seen the gut-wrenching sorrow of two of his closest friends, one a failure in his mission, the other a widow far too soon. Was he to blame for their troubles, maybe just a little? Perhaps... his path was never a 'safe' one, and the dangers he faced were the dangers they faced. That wasn't even taking into account the Slayer- the demonic force within him was unparalleled in power and strength, but with each transformation he lost a little more of himself to the evil, never knowing if he could come back from the change. It had happened a total of four times… the taint that had used to be a whisper had become a shout in his ear. Still, since he had regained his soul and killed Irenicus, the lure of the taint was smaller again, more easily pushed back. He knew how to induce the Slayer to come forth, and he imagined that if he ever really tried, he could become the demon once more... but he'd made a promise to the woman who walked a few feet beside him- a promise he didn't intend to forget.
A thought pierced him; one that had been growing on his mind for some time now. He glanced behind him, watching Imoen shiver in the rain as she trudged behind him, between Minsc and Jaheira. She was Bhaalspawn, his sister in both blood and spirit. Her portion of taint seemed miniscule compared to that of Sarevok, or even him. But... Irenicus had awakened it within her, pulled it to the surface of her consciousness. How long before she began to feel the same strength of taint that he did, the same pull of murder?
The overgrown forest before him abruptly opened, a crack of lightning splitting the obscured sky above them even as they broke into the clear. There were still numerous trees and hedges scattered through the clearing, but it was a relief to be free of the constricting forest they had left. It had been extremely difficult to follow the path to find this place; without Ellesime's directions, and Elhan's initial guidance, despite his insistence that it wouldn't be necessary, finding the grove might have proved impossible. Above, the rains still poured their fury down upon them- Greywulf raised his head as much as he dared with the cloak stopping too much rain from blinding his vision. He blinked a few times, trying to get the few water droplets from his eyes. Trees and shrubs dotted the place, as well as large boulders and pieces of rubble, old pillars and broken-down statues. Of real interest were the dozens of stone heads scattered about, large and radiating a power that could not have been missed. They were the size of small cottages, and despite their obvious age, no moss or vines grew upon these stones of power.
"Greywulf..." Aerie's voice broke through the increasing downpour of the rain around them, "Be careful. The ancient magic of this place... it senses our presence. I can feel it... no. Not our presence. Your presence. Yours and Imoen's."
"I can feel it too." Imoen said with a shiver, a slight nervousness to her features as she bit her lower lip, taking small but determined steps toward a cluster of them. "It's like... it's like they're trying to make contact with us. I don't know if I can-"
They eyes on all the heads flared a bright orange, and two screams echoed through the clearings. Greywulf and Imoen found themselves on their knees and clutching their heads, the taint within them ringing and resounding as words like rocks grinding together rumbled through their heads, shattering any resistance or attempts to push the presence from within them.
The wheels of prophecy e'er turn,
Gorion's ward hath come.
Crossroad of past, present and future,
The one foreseen, the one foretold.
That which hath past is ne'er truly gone,
History repeats, though mortals choose not to see.
War and bloodshed be not new to the Realms,
A God that once hath been may be once again.
Armies march and cities burn,
The rivers froth with tainted blood.
The corpses of those born not innocent
Feed the inferno of boiling hate.
Bhaal's Servant deceived, Five led down a false path,
A hidden traitor lurks in thy midst.
The Servant of Bhaal knows death and destruction,
The face of an ally, the mask of a foe.
The Children of Bhaal bring death to the land,
They slaughter each other, and feed their Father.
Death and betrayal walk together,
A river of tainted blood doth not cleanse.
The storm approaches, we speak no more.
The thudding pain began to fade slowly, the dull sound of the sheets of rain falling reentering the hearing of the two Bhaalspawn once more. Greywulf tried to pry his eyes open only to spy his own hands, planted firmly on the ground, mud and pools of water and grass between them. The sound of someone yelling at him was just a faint echo in the back of his mind, as was the feeling that someone was pulling at him, trying to get him to his feet. He looked up dumbly, watching Minsc and Aerie tugging at Imoen, trying to get the thief-mage to rise. Jaheira was kneeling beside him, unhidden worry clear as day on her face. She said something he couldn't make out- once again, all he could do was nod and try to get his limbs to start working again, nearly slipping twice but finally regaining his footing and some measure of his senses.
"Greywulf… are you all right?! By Silvanus man, answer if you can hear me!!"
"I... I hear you." he said weakly, trying to muster a smile to lessen the concern for his wellbeing. "I just... need a moment, that's all. Imoen, how're you doing?"
"Aside from the fact that someone just took a hammer to the inside of my head, great." she scowled, holding her forehead with a grimace. "What was that? Fer a second there, all I could hear was that... wait a minute. Over there-"
Imoen's keen eyes had caught movement off to the side- but how? She was still dazed from the vision they'd been given, if it could be called a vision- and Greywulf had felt a presence approaching as well- no. The taint within him... it was drawing him to whatever was near. Imoen must have felt it too-
A group of six emerged from the misty darkness; whatever slim hopes that the party had held, that they might somehow be an envoy of Ellesime, come to meet them or protect them, were dashed almost immediately. Despite the vaunted secrecy and the wards protecting this place, these six had apparently penetrated it and found the ones they sought. If they could feel the same presence of the taint that Greywulf felt... then it was no wonder they knew where to find them.
Two men wore the long flowing robes of magi, red and black, with enchantments of dark design that radiated a faint aura of evil. They each held daggers that glowed a faint green in the light of the evening. Another woman held a flail and wore plate armor, the symbol of Talos embossed upon the spiked shield she carried in her off-hand. Two others were half-ogres, each bearing a great sword... one figure remained. She stepped before them all, separating herself from the rest of her group. Her eyes were surrounded by dark tattoos, her demeanor feral, excited with what Greywulf feared was the thrill of the hunt. She wore emerald splint mail, light and of elvish design, much like what Imoen had been given to wear from the elven smiths of Suldenesselar. Her long, dark hair was soaked, the strands of it clinging to her face as she stopped, presenting herself in full view of them all, a taunting gesture if nothing else.
"And so I have found you at last." Illasera said, licking her lips in perverse anticipation of the bloodshed that was certain to occur. "You don't know just how much of an effort it was to try and find you- here in all these old wards, hidden by elven magics... you're a difficult one to hunt down."
"That's the idea, most of the time." Greywulf shot back, struggling to be heard over the intensifying downpour, but trying to keep her talking so that his mind- and Imoen's assuredly- would have time to clear, to focus again. "Not that I believe you come with peaceful intent, but who are you? What do you want?"
"As if you couldn't guess." Illasera shook her head with a laugh, throwing her head back to let the rain drench her face in its furious, chaotic embrace. She threw her gaze back down towards them, rain trickling down her features like tendrils of some denizen of the deep. "All you really need to know is that I have been given the pleasure of ending your life. Yours, and Imoen's. Do not think that she is of less value than you, here. Both of you are slated to die by my hand today. If that prospect frightens you, take heart in the knowledge that you are not the first Bhaalspawn I've killed. I keep a small souvenir of each one that I kill- perhaps I'll take those elven amulets you wear. I'll have plenty of time to make the choice, after all."
"Nobody will touch the friends of Minsc, not while he breathes, and breathe he does!" Always loyal Minsc- the ranger was the first to step out in defense of his allies and comrades. He had the Silver Sword at ready, waiting for a signal. "Do not tempt the wrath of Minsc and Boo, or you will know what it feels like to have your eyes chewed!"
Illasera laughed, sneering with contempt at the threats. "Your words mean as little to me as your life. You and the others are nothing. The Bhaalspawn... they will be a joy to slaughter. There is, after all, no greater thrill than feeling the blood of a sibling run down your hands... am I right?"
The implication of her words was not lost upon the group, but neither was her morbid taunt. Unbidden, memories of fighting Sarevok and watching him die in the Temple of Bhaal beneath Baldur's Gate flooded back to Greywulf's memory. The feeling of euphoria... he'd attributed it to simple joy in survival, in avenging Gorion. But... yes. Yes, there was a profound, almost maddening pleasure in causing the death of another Child of Bhaal. The look of anger that must've slid onto his features was all too apparent to the woman who had hunted them down. Illasera nodded, confirming the unasked question. "I am Bhaalspawn myself, obviously. These two... just two more trophies for my blade."
"You can try, if you like." Imoen spat angrily, her senses rapidly returning, and with it her anger. "We aren't yer ordinary Bhaalspawn."
"But neither am I, fool." she hissed. "Not all of us have been wandering Faerun like witless cattle, like the two of you and so many others of Bhaal's blood. Some of us have far greater aspirations. The time of Alaundo's prophecy has come, has it not? Surely you have sensed the outbreak of blood, the call of Murder. I could feel the echo of your taints as the rhyming ghosts that frequent this place touched your minds."
Illasera glanced behind her once, nodding in satisfaction as the rest of her party made ready their weapons, preparing for the fight that was about to commence. She brought her scimitar to guard, lowering her stance and weight with a deadly smile that spoke to nothing but absolute confidence in her abilities. "Great things are afoot- destiny has arrived, and your contribution to the annals of the Bhaalspawn will be your death. It has already been decided. I am Illasera the Quick, and I have been chosen to perform this deed. You cannot resist us."
"Irenicus. Firkraag. Sarevok." Greywulf spoke coldly, clenching his fist as he readied his magics within. "They all said the same thing. They're dead now. I'm not. Your odds don't look too good."
Illasera eyed the sorcerer for a second, then sneered. "We'll see."
She leapt forward with surprising speed, upon Greywulf before they had even moved to react. Her sword would have severed the wizard's head from his body, but the contingency spells he had prepared ahead of time kicked in as soon as her sword touched his neck. Stoneskins engulfed his body, ricocheting her blade off of him, even as a Spell Trap protected him from magic. His staff swung out and attempted to bat her aside, but she had already moved aside, leaping backward out of his range.
Her scimitar was back in its sheath and one arm was whipping her bow from her back, the other pulling an arrow from the quiver. Only now had Imoen and Aerie begun their spell craft, Jaheira and Minsc to advance at their foes. The sound of two erupting spells startled them, watching as the two wizards with their enemy launched fireballs, the orbs of flame exploding in their midst. Imoen and Aerie were both sent flying, tumbling into the woods beside them, fire scorching their bodies and singing their clothing. The heavy rains dampened the damage all would have taken, but the concussive force of the spells were still enough to scatter them all.
Jaheira's eyes flashed as she saw one of the half-ogres dropping his sword down upon her head where she had landed after the explosion. Her spear was off to the side as well, out of her reach. She rolled to the side, just barely avoiding a quick death. The sword continued to fall, chasing her as she attempted to find some room to recover, cutting grooves into the ground beside her, each one closer than the last. Jaheira's body thudded over something hard, a tight smile crossing her face as she did. Her hand darted out, gripping the shaft of her spear despite the slick feel the rain provided. Her hand whipped around, dragging the spear around to slam the back of her attacker's knees. They collapsed, the half-ogre taken by surprise as he began falling, stopped short as Jaheira's spear reversed motion to slam the tip into his chest, pushing him to the side as he collapsed to the ground, gurgling once before expiring completely.
Minsc backpedaled from the cleric facing him, narrowly dodging the swings of the flail aimed at him, powered by divine strength. The spiked ball swung past him to the left, Minsc bringing the Vorpal Sword down to try and cut the through the chain- the cleric bashed forward with the shield, not only blocking his strike but the spikes on the shield raking across Minsc's hands. It looked bloodier than it actually was, but the shock and pain was enough to loosen Minsc's grip, and another downswing of the flail sent the Vorpal Sword to the ground.
The shield came around again, this time aiming for his face. No time to try and recover the sword, she was pushing forward too fast. Minsc let himself go back completely, somersaulting backwards across the ground to put even more room between them, reaching to his back straps as soon as he came out of the roll. Stonefire and Frostreaver were in his hands in an instant- he turned his miniature retreat into an attack, lunging forward with Stonefire and letting the in-motion swing of the flail wrap itself around the axe head. Frostreaver came around to cut the now taut chain, destroying the weapon and leaving the cleric with nothing but a handle attached to a few links of chain. She recoiled as Minsc pressed forward, shaking the weapon loose of Stonefire- Minsc lurched in pain as an arrow lodged in his side, puncturing the heavy plate mail. Illasera smiled maliciously as she drew another arrow, firing with blinding speed at Greywulf, the wizard trying desperately to find cover as his protections fell with far too great a speed.
Imoen yelped as the sword of the second half-ogre warrior cleaved the tree she had been standing beside in two, splinters hitting her side as she fled, trying in vain to give herself room to cast a spell, bring her bow to bear, anything. Another near miss convinced her that waiting for such an opportunity would only lead to a defenseless death- Imoen jerked the enchanted short sword she wore from her belt, planting her feet defiantly as the half-ogre eyed the new weapon.
The monster bellowed a horrendous laugh, then lunged again, no respect for the girl or her skill with the blade. Were she a better warrior she might've been able to make use of the ogre's overconfidence... as it was, Imoen barely dodged the attack, then slashed downward with all her might. The cut wasn't particularly deep but it served enough purpose to enrage her opponent. The monster blitzed her at full speed, and this time there would be no escape- an arrow struck the half-ogre in the neck, a perfect shot between the low helm and the high breastplate. In the wood nearby, Elhan lowered his bow, nodding in satisfaction. The archers around him began their volleys a split-second later, the sounds of arrows piercing flesh echoing all throughout the clearing. Elhan surveyed the damage, expecting nothing less than total annihilation of those who had attacked the adventurers. Surely their ambush and skill had been enough to leave no survivors... no? Impossible.
Alone, the sole survivor of the elven assault, Illasera stood amidst arrows littered across the landscape, untouched by the volleys. Elhan and his men emerged from the forest, not bothering to acknowledge Greywulf and his companions but simply shouting a single word in elvish- another volley was loosed, but this time he saw the skill of Illasera the Quick firsthand. Her lithe body leapt and juked and rolled... she was unnaturally fast, and none of the arrows came close to touching her. She came out of a roll, dodging the last arrow- her own bow was raised and with the twang of a bow string, struck Imoen's shoulder, disrupting the half-completed spell that the girl had been working on.
Less than a second later, another arrow was loosed. One of Elhan's men dropped to his knees, an arrow lodged in his chest. She was too fast... far too fast to be allowed to pick them off like this. They needed to close the gap to force her into close combat... Greywulf began another spell, drawing her attention- as soon as she drew back her bow, he abandoned his work and lunged at her, staff in hand. It was a foolish gamble; the last of his Stoneskins dropped away as he came at her, and in the blink of an eye her bow was gone and her scimitar once again in hand. She spun out of the way, using his momentum to drive into a swing towards his neck, one that he barely blocked, though he spotted a chunk of wood fly from his staff with the impact of her blade. He let his progress drive him to the ground, on one knee. He punched out with his staff, just enough to drive her back, into a lightning bolt from Aerie. She ducked her head, letting the bolt pass over her by inches, with microseconds to spare. She rushed forward, coming to drive her scimitar at Aerie, the elven mage taken by surprise-
Minsc threw himself in the way, his armor enough to deflect the blow, his own counter-attack too slow to hit. She veered from that path to find a new route- Jaheira intercepted her, but her spear was nowhere to be found. Jaheira wrapped her arms around the woman and held on as tightly as she dared; the Bhaalspawn threw herself backwards, pushing Jaheira into a tree even as she flipped her scimitar's grip so that the sword pierced through Jaheira's leg, pinning her to the tree. Still Jaheira held on... and with a cry of druidic power, summoned lightning from the sky. Bolts of electricity rained down, striking Illasera and Jaheira together, cracking with ferocity and light enough to make all around look away- when the storm ceased, Jaheira remained unharmed, her Harper Pin protecting her from all danger. Illasera was a smoking husk, her flesh blackened and burned as she collapsed to the ground.
"Jaheira! Are you..." Greywulf came to her side in alarm, blood flowing from her thigh at an alarming rate. She moaned with effort as the blade came out with the tearing of flesh and the wrenching of metal- Her hands immediately went to the rain and blood soaked wound, trying to hold the flow for a moment while Aerie came to her side, already moving to act with her clerical magics-
A blaze of light erupted around Illasera's corpse, the body of the would-be assassin falling apart and dissipating into glittering sparks of golden light... the essence of Bhaal within her falling away from the mortal plane to rejoin her dead father. Elhan watched the spectacle with an eye of curiosity, then turned to the men and women he had aided. Before he could say a single word, a blast of magic like none they had felt before thundered all around, raining white beams of light and power around the five adventurers. It culminated in an explosion that knocked the elves off their feet- when the winds died and the only sound left was that of the rain falling, Elhan looked up and saw naught but the corpses of Illasera's followers, and small wisps of smoke where the five men and women had been standing mere seconds ago.
X X X X X X
"Son of a..." Greywulf glanced around him, dropping his face in one hand as he shook his head in despair. The sights around them were familiar... too familiar. Familiar as in having seen then them the last time they'd been embroiled in conflict involving the taint with his soul. As in being pulled into a miniature plane of Hell when they had clashed with Irenicus for the last time. It had been a disturbing place, one he hoped he would never see again, with its demonic statues, green skies, rocky cliffs and stairways that led to life-threatening tests. He sighed as he counted them off on his list. Demonic statues? Check. Green, cloud covered skies? Check. Rocky, black ground and cliffs? Check. Five stairways that presumably lead to some life threatening tests of my own subconscious design? Well, I see five stairways, even if they're covered by hazy magic fields right now. So… a probable check.
"Eh? Where have you brought us, Boo?" Minsc asked, a puzzled expression on his face as he talked to the hamster in his palm. "I am duly impressed by your show of great powers, but a little forewarning would have been nice. No matter! Wherever evil treads, Minsc treads louder!"
"We have to stop coming here." Imoen sighed, even as she winced, the arrow still lodged in her shoulder. She collapsed to a seated position, waiting for Aerie to come from helping Jaheira, the druid in much worse condition than her at the moment.
"But why? Why has your power brought us here again?" Aerie asked with a glance to Greywulf as she held her hands over Jaheira's injury, the blue haze of her power covering it in light, closing the gap as the power of a Heal spell worked its powerful magic upon the druid.
"I don't-" Greywulf's words were cut short when another blast of light, not quite similar to the one that had brought them, blazed into existence. When it faded, a solitary figure, humanoid and female in form strode forth, towering over all. She stood nine feet tall, wearing bright silver armor; her skin was a light shade of blue while large, white feathered wings branched out from her shoulders, spread wide as she was tall. A gleaming golden halo hovered over this supernatural being's head; she was a being of heavenly court, if not divine. A giant scabbard hung at her side with the hilt of a sword that must have been at least five feet long visible, gleaming like burnished bronze. Her eyes glowed with the fire and intensity of the sun, yellow and piercing as they sought out those before her. A smile of satisfaction crossed her face, and when she spoke, it was a commanding yet soft, feminine voice that issued forth.
"I, Solar of the gods, greet you, god-child. You who are of divine blood... I have awaited you."
"A Solar?" Aerie whispered as she trembled. "They are the highest order of the angelic orders… only the High Archangel himself has more authority in the celestial armies."
"I am... humbled, Solar... but I fear you might've caught us at something of a bad time." Greywulf said, choosing his words carefully. The divine being before him was more powerful than all of them combined, and it would not do to offend... but letting his sister and his lover lie bleeding on the rocky ground wasn't going to happen either.
"You fear for the well-being of your companions?" the Solar noted, looking them over with a look that did not quite suggest concern, but interest nonetheless. She smiled, waving her hand over them once. "There... their wounds are healed. Now, to the business for which I have brought you. You have many questions- I can see as such in your eyes. For myself, it is as I said. I have existed since the first strand of fate was woven, a servant of the paths and the gods. I have watched your own path most carefully. Our own servant, who was the mortal Alaundo, spake the truths that became prophecy. It tells of your coming and of all the others who are the progeny of Bhaal. The spark of the divine rests within all of Bhaal's children and the time for their joining is nigh. I am here to aid you, god-child."
In the blink of an eye, every wound that they had suffered in the battle with Illasera had vanished, their bodies at full capacity, as if they hadn't fought through a skirmish that had nearly claimed the lives of three of them. Greywulf shook his head in disbelief, laughing cautiously. "I don't suppose this is a dream..."
"How would you define a dream?" The Solar replied calmly, almost as if she had not heard the half-joking tone in his voice. "If as a fleeting path without true substance…then this is no dream. I have brought you to this place and it is as real as you or I."
"But why?" Imoen asked, still unable to take her eyes off the vision of purity that presented itself before them. "This place... it is-"
"This is the layer of the Abyss once ruled by your sire, Bhaal. You have indeed been here before, although it was altered, then, by your own consciousness." the Solar answered. "Once more your own divine spark summons it forth… altered perhaps once again, but the same plane of divinity."
"Be careful, Greywulf." Jaheira whispered, a firm grip on her spear, as she eyed the Solar, standing to her feet. "I highly doubt it… but this could be a trick of your taint. Do not lower your guard completely."
"I am not here to fool or harm you, god-child." the Solar said, her words echoing over Jaheira's, eying the druid with what might have been amusement. "I may only teach, and you are free to consider my words and deem them false, if you wish. There is no consequence."
Jaheira's eyes narrowed… but between the healing of her leg and the natural aura of light that radiated from the celestial angel, she lowered her guard. Greywulf had never suspected the Solar of falsehood in the least, and so he quickly moved to prevent any further tones of distrust, asking her, "Please, Solar…what do you know of the prophecy?"
"The progeny of Bhaal are many…and now they are quickly being extinguished, their spark returning to its source. An event unfolds of divine significance, god-child." she said, fixing a gaze with Greywulf and Imoen. "You two are central to this Event. Many are the strings of fate that start or pass through you…though the end I cannot see. I must shepherd you through this time as best I can."
"How? Will the angel fight by Minsc's side? Oh, what a glorious day that would be!" Minsc declared with unbounded enthusiasm.
"I fear not." the Solar laughed. "I cannot interfere in such a manner. I can only prepare the two of you, the god-children that have rejected the path of darkness… aid in your education, you who are most unready to assume your destiny."
"What do you mean by that?" Imoen asked with a frown.
"I mean only that you are unready for the possibilities that await you. Your mortal mind does not readily comprehend the power in your blood. When you were last in your sire's realm, god-child, it was altered by your own consciousness without you even forming the intent to do so. You are not ready for the power. You must be ready." she affirmed with a nod. "It is your presence which determines the outcome of the prophecy, although even I cannot see it yet. When the time comes, you will be ready… I will make certain."
Greywulf felt his heart sink… long had he spurned the power his divine heritage offered him, not wanting to become a slave to it. Now it would seem he was losing that choice. "Solar, this power the prophecy speaks of… I don't want it. I never wanted any of it. Isn't there another way? Some way to... I don't know, a way to get rid of it?"
"You may not desire power, but you are a god-child. A spawn of Bhaal. Power is in your essence, and if you do not master it, it will master you." The Solar replied solemnly, frowning as a vision of the Slayer passed between them. "You yourselves have seen what happens when the power within is allowed free reign in your lives. With power must comes knowledge, god-child… as does the wisdom of how to use it with care. It shall come to you in time, as your destiny unfolds. I shall see you soon. Until then, hold your heart close and know that you are not alone."
With that, the light shone all around once more, the figure of the Solar vanishing within. It gradually faded, letting them unshield their eyes once more and see the dismal realm of darkness, even more so when compared with the glory that had left them behind. All that remained were her words; words that made little if no sense to them. Leaving this demonic realm would prove a difficult task as well- while there was no enormous door with reptilian eyes to guard it, in its place stood a gaping maw, lined by jagged teeth like rocks. Before anybody could even consider the idea of heading through, a voice came from the shadows behind them… a voice they had heard far, far too many times.
"So. You have finally arrived. I have been waiting for you."
Greywulf whirled to face the new presence, his heart pleading for him to have misheard, for the one he knew would be standing there to be somebody, anybody else.
"Eh? He is like bad penny, this one. An armored, deep-voiced penny of most sinister evil!" Minsc growled.
Sarevok's ethereal form, floating above the ground itself, grinned darkly.