Author's Note: Haven't said it yet for this story, but once more, I own nothing except for Greywulf. By the by, I honestly have no idea where this is going to go, so hopefully it's someplace that you readers like! That being said, thanks for reading! Reviews are, as always, welcome!

A greenish glow encompassed the whole of the area- a shrill cry of some demonic creature echoed overhead as the unknown beast soared past the rocky platform that had composed their campsite for the night... or day, depending on how they saw it. It wasn't as though there was a sun to go by, or stars to light the night sky. This plane seemed to have no sense of the passage of time, and so the group had decided that at least one night of rest before heading into what was, for all intents and purposes, the destiny of the Bhaalspawn, might be a good plan.

Not that they really felt at ease here. It could not be so, with the unnatural cries and the unholy sights that surrounded them. Despite Sarevok's assurances that it would be unnecessary, they had insisted on posting guards, and had, unsurprisingly, posted another of their party to keep watch along with Sarevok. Minsc had been the one to do so- but between one and a half hours of silence between the two and completely uninteresting guard duty, the ranger had slipped into unconsciousness, and had left Sarevok the sole guardian of the camp for the night.

Foolish... he glared down at their sleeping forms, knowing that in less than ten seconds, he could have killed every one of them and avenged his own death twice over. Why he had not- well, that was more complicated, really. Rather than dwelling on it, he flexed his muscles instead, testing his right shoulder, which had taken a glancing blow from a gnoll halberd in battle. The Red Dragon Scale had proven up to the task and kept it from being anything more than a small bruise, but small injuries led so easily to larger ones, and he wasn't one to take such things lightly. It had been invigorating, that first taste of combat after returning to the land of mortals. Invigorating enough to make this rest a mere formality, a scant break that did nothing for him, only delayed the passage of time until his next fight, until the next time when he could do what he was born to do. Rather... what he had been born to do before Greywulf had stolen his portion of the taint. He glanced at the sleeping form of his brother, grimacing as anger flashed within him, his fist clenching tightly around the hilt of the Sword of Chaos.

He'd been honest with Greywulf when trying to persuade the man to bring him back, and he had meant what he said about Greywulf. Fighting the mage was not a prospect he ever desired to face again, but that didn't mean he had to like him. Losing one's life at the hands of the same man twice made for some harsh feelings, and it was clear that Greywulf had not forgiven Sarevok for what he had done either. Liking the sorcerer? Never. Respecting him? Definitely. Greywulf wasn't the most powerful being in the Realms, and there were plenty of other Bhaalspawn that were far more ambitious, far more willing to embrace the murderous nature of their taint than Greywulf. Most of them would have gladly accepted Sarevok's guidance, his sword had he offered it to them in exchange for a resurrection.

Why choose Greywulf, his arch-rival? Why choose the one who battled his taint at every turn, who pushed to find a different path, a weaker path, one that would give up everything Sarevok desired? Well... for all those reasons and more. Those who blindly followed their lust for power were little more than beasts, savages with power undeserved. Sarevok had refused to let the taint master him- he had mastered it, and in a manner of speaking, Greywulf had as well. Perhaps even more than Sarevok, considering that he had learned to unleash the Slayer upon the world at a whim. That... that was power. That was power with a will and a mind to use it. Greywulf's mastery of the taint was different, certainly. It was one borne of fear, one that did its utmost to keep the beast suppressed, to keep it caged. But to do that... Greywulf had to be intimately familiar, so well-acquainted with it that he could anticipate its methods, its ways.

Others gloried in the power and knew only the raw energy it provided. Both he and Greywulf knew the razor fine edge it could add to your own skill when called upon. They knew the darkness that could join you in a fight so easily, but more than that, knew how to use it as a delicate scalpel, rather than a blunt club. Sarevok smiled, imagining the path that he was starting. It would be a difficult road- corrupting Greywulf would be no easy task. But he was sure he could get the sorcerer to see the truth behind the taint. He could show him how wonderful and glorious that it could be. And when Greywulf had finally abandoned these foolish notions of 'morality' and let himself embrace what he had caged for so long- that was something Sarevok was looking forward to. The control and knowledge of years spent fighting the darkness combined with the full power of a Bhaalspawn embracing his true self.

Yes... a power the likes of which the Realms had not seen since the Time of Troubles. And at his right hand, sharing in the power of Bhaal, Sarevok, an enforcer with an iron rod. Perhaps not the place of power he had imagined himself in, but was it not better to stand beside the Devil than be caught in his path of Hell? And for Sarevok... putting up with this party, these idealistic, sickeningly moralistic adventurers would be Hell, at least for a time. They were capable fighters, at the least. They had to be, if they had endured the fights and battles with both him and this... Irenicus.

He could see right away that these men and women were not the same ones who had fought him in the Undercity of Baldur's Gate. Not all of them, anyway. The ranger, the druid, Imoen and Greywulf... they had been there, but two others were missing. He made a mental note of it, shifting his weight further. Perhaps the dragon scale he wore made too much noise, or perhaps she had been awake the whole time and simply thought he was making some sort of move towards the group. Regardless, before he could blink Jaheira had shot to a crouched position, her dagger drawn and inches from Sarevok's neck.

The dark warrior glanced down at the gleaming blade and chuckled quietly. "Please. If I had wanted to kill any of you I would have done it in the battle. Put the knife away before you wake your precious leader."

Jaheira did not respond, but only kept glaring, her hand slowly drawing back to sheathe her weapon. Sarevok watched her for a moment longer than snorted in derision, shaking his head. "Such hatred I feel from you... does my presence truly enrage you so? Or are you simply afraid that I might slit your throat in the middle of the night?"

"Afraid? Of you? Not hardly." Jaheira spat, refusing to let his taunts touch her.

"That, druid, is a lie." Sarevok sneered, his golden eyes like searchlights, unnerving and piercing in the darkness. "I sense fear in you... though perhaps you may be right. Perhaps it is not me, specifically, you fear."

"Your senses are wrong." she snarled, though her voice was still a low whisper. "You are a foul, unnatural thing… not alive and not yet dead. You cling to this life like a parasite, drawing from the strength Imoen has lent you. It is only a matter of time before Nature claims you once more."

"Ah... I see it now. I see the reasons. You do not fear me... you fear what I am." Sarevok smiled darkly. "What I represent. If I am alive… if I am truly restored, it means you have failed. It means you have failed in your promise to Gorion, to avenge his death. And you simply cannot handle that."

"Your words mean nothing to me." Jaheira shot back, perhaps giving her voice a bit more edge than she wanted. "I need fear nothing from a shell such as you. You will realize this one day, that despite all appearances, you are nothing."

A flicker of the emptiness, the void that had tormented him until his salvation at the hands of his siblings drove itself through his brain like a shard of white light. Sarevok's mouth twitched and he slowly, quietly, withdrew from Jaheira. He grunted, turning from her and settling in his own bedding. "Your words cut deeper than you know. If you wish to remain losing sleep over my presence, so be it."

She watched him carefully, waiting until his chest had succumbed to a slow and steady rise and fall, a heartbeat and breath that while possibly feigned, looked real enough for her to believe he had fallen asleep. Not that it made her feel any safer. Or any less irritated at Minsc for failing to keep watch. If he had decided to act against them, and she hadn't been awake- a hand brushed against hers, taking it and squeezing gently as she tried not to jump. Glancing down, she saw Greywulf's eyes open as he lay beside her, a tight smile across his face. "It's all right... you can get some rest. I've been watching him ever since Minsc fell 'asleep'."

Realization hit her- of course, Minsc would not have been lax in his guardianship of their party, especially not so soon after their induction of Sarevok into their ranks. Greywulf and he had planned this all along- "Needed to see what he might do if he thought he had free reign over the group. If he thought we were at his mercy." Greywulf murmured in a tone of voice that was hopefully low enough for Sarevok not to overhear, assuming he was listening. "Sorry I didn't mention it earlier..."

She pursed her lips as she met his eyes, and could not help but feel a bit better. It was good to know he was taking this seriously... taking this monster with them was a mistake, and one which she ardently opposed, regardless of any help or aid he might lend. Anything he offered had a price, she was sure, and not one they would be able to pay in the end. It irked her, not knowing why Greywulf would allow this to happen, and even more so that he had not forced the man to take an oath of loyalty. Not that she believed he wouldn't have found a way around it. Still-

A slight sound of fluttering in the distance perked her ears, tuning to the nearly inaudible noise. Greywulf had noticed her sudden movement, and glanced out toward where she was looking. Her right hand slid across the bedding to take hold of her spear shaft, and Greywulf caught her intentions without a word. He slid from the blankets, dressed in only a Cloak of Protection and leggings, stalking behind her as they silently began searching for something, anything that might've been threatening their campsite. Still, the area was not as large as it seemed, and after only minutes of searching, they had found nothing and reluctantly returned to the bedding to find- Greywulf's pack was gone?

The two half-elves met glances, and Jaheira pointed silently at a trail of the sorcerer's things, leading off towards the first challenge room that they had cleared mere hours ago. Together they crept towards the room, following the path of potions, clothing, and rations that would be a chore to clean up once they had solved this particular mystery. Greywulf raised a hand, halting their advance as he peered around a rocky wall, finally focusing on the object of their hunt: his pack was lying open in the middle of the room, a pair of small, olive colored, scaly legs poking out the top as a high-pitched sing-song humming emitted from within. "Dum-de-dum-de-dum…I'se looking through stuffs that ain't mine…de-dum-dum…."

Jaheira's footsteps were soft and quiet, and by the time she had reached the pack, the creature inside was just beginning to pull his head out, coming up to see her torso directly in his line of sight. It was an imp, from the looks of it, with two small horns and glittering blue eyes. His wings were short and stubby, enough to keep him off the ground as he flapped, but the entire mixture of his looks and his high-pitched squeal as he saw Jaheira's hand dart toward him, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck made for a rather comical sight.

It thrashed about for a moment, but upon seeing Greywulf, its eyes lit up and it immediately ceased all struggles, nodding energetically. "Oh! Hello!"

The half-elf studied the little fellow- imps were generally more annoying than dangerous, but there was no sense in taking unnecessary risks. He kept his staff close by as he answered, "Hello yourself. Who are you and why did you steal my pack?"

"Steal? Oh noes, I's not steal it!" the imp's eyes widened as he shook his head vigorously. "Did not want to wake the master! Decided to look through things while he slept, yes!"

"Master..." Jaheira looked at Greywulf with a hint of warning in her eyes. "You believe Greywulf to be your master."

"Mmhmm!" it giggled for a moment, then squinted his eyes. "Yep... Is you! Knows from when I riddled you's all back in maze, yes?"

"Maze..." Greywulf frowned in confusion, but Jaheira knew enough to place the reference. "The Spellhold maze. You were the imp who helped us to find Greywulf?"

"Ohh yes! That's was I! Left soon after you left. No more directors, no more funs. Returned to home in planes to seek new job- was sent to be butler again!"

"Wait... I'm lost." Greywulf frowned, rubbing his forehead. His experiences in the Spellhold Maze were not pleasant ones, and he tried to avoid thinking about them as much as possible. Worse still was the memories of his faux life that would creep to mind if he gave them a half-chance. "I'm guessing this all happened when I was trapped inside that gem world, right?"

Jaheira nodded, raising a hand for him to hold off asking questions for a moment. "But then you came here to be a butler again, you said. A butler for whom?"

"For the Master!" the imp rolled his eyes, waving his arms to encompass everything around. "I am's the little butler for the great Bhaal, oh yes... or I was. It has been some time since I have been called to serve. Master leaves, and Cespenar had to find new jobs. Like Riddle Imp. But now that master is a back, Cespenar has someone to serve!"

"Oookay. So you're a butler for Bhaal... and since I'm the one who controls this plane, that makes you my butler." Greywulf said slowly, trying to make sense of this curious little creature. "What exactly... well, what do you do here?"

"Oh, I does clean things. I goes and I collects the little things that finds their ways to the Abyss. And when my master requests, I uses the recipes to making the shiny ones for him, oh yes!" the imp nodded eagerly, blinking madly at Greywulf.

"The 'shiny ones'?"

"Yes, oh yes. Call on me you may. Use my recipes for you will I, make the shiny ones. Have not done this for some time, no…no new master have I. Cespenar gladly serve the great one! Cespenar make good butler, yes? Would you like me to make you shiny ones? I have many recipes!"

The imp glanced at Greywulf's cloak. "Eh? A shower curtain? Oh…is only a cloak. Nasty color, that. With some gold and gems, I's can make cloak better! Less tears and cuts!"

"Right…" Greywulf smiled carefully. "Jaheira, are you getting all this? Even the imps that are supposed to 'serve' me are looking for gold before they perform."

"I am not surprised by anything anymore." she snorted. "A hive of beholders could appear wearing tiaras and dresses and I would not be surprised."

"Ooh! There is a plane of beholders nears here, very close indeed!" the imp squealed. "Cautious theys are about you, master… not sure what kind of ruler you will be. I's heard them when closing down wormholes in place!"

"Can they get in here?" Greywulf asked in alarm.

"Oh no… I's find all possible entrances and close them very quick." the imp beamed. "Even if theys get through they cannot survive here for long. Yous simply call the guardians and they's go bye!"

"What guardians?" Greywulf said, his sense of ease shaken just a bit.

"Oh, all the statues! Yous think they just here for decoration?" Cespenar laughed.

"Right. Tell you what," Greywulf sighed. "You keep doing… whatever it is you do, and you warn us if there's any danger. Next time we head out and…er… come back, I'll let you look through our stuff and see what you can do with it. Right now, we're going back to sleep. Please put all my stuff back."

"Okay!" Cespenar nodded excitedly. "Master goes and sleeps, Cespenar be good servant, oh yes!"

Greywulf and Jaheira left Cespenar to his own devices, fluttering around the platform and humming quietly to himself as he worked his own little spells, letting the two reach their beds in peace. Even as they lay down, Greywulf leaned over to her and whispered, "Jaheira… look, I know this is hard. Especially with, well, you-know-who here. But we'll get through this. And as soon as I get this all settled in *my* head… you'll be the first to know."

Jaheira opened her mouth as though to object, to argue her points she had just been thinking of before… then closed her mouth, her big green eyes studying his face, tracing the fading lines of scars long since received with her finger.

"What?" he asked with a faint smile, enjoying the casual familiarity she could still inspire despite their surroundings.

"Damn. You distract far too easily. We should get some rest." she shook her head, then turned around covering up once more.

He lay there propped on one elbow for a moment, confused, then sighed with contentment and finally, everyone got the sleep they desired.

X X X X X X

The rays of the sun were bright enough to penetrate the forest canopy, but it was still mostly shaded, and for that Solaufein was unquestionably thankful. His hood was down, giving him far better field of vision than when his hood was up, shielding his eyes from the harsh daylight. He was still unused to traveling at day, but blending in with the surfacers made that something of a necessity. He had hoped that he might be able to show himself a bit more resilient to the surface surroundings, but still he found himself limited by the nature of his race. Perhaps in a few more months, years even, he would finally lose some of the disabilities that his drow heritage forced upon him while in the surface world- it would undoubtedly be at the cost of the advantages he had possessed below, but his intentions did not include returning to the Underdark anytime soon.

He continued to push his way through the branches and leaves and foliage of the Forest of Tethyr, relying upon his memory to take him back to the high city of the elves. Perhaps they would find his reappearance unwelcome, but he was never one to care overmuch for what others thought of him, and this would be no different. He had taken his leave from Queen Dianya not long after the incursion by his people, and though her home was put in danger by his presence, Dianya had never been anything more than gracious. He truly did look forward to returning to that place of quiet and meditation... but it would have to wait. The Bhaalspawn were being hunted, and whoever it was had some kind of drow support. He would warn Greywulf and his party. He would find whoever was hunting them and stop their efforts if at all possible... that much he had promised himself.

He had also promised himself that he wasn't simply doing this to see Imoen again. She was a powerful mage, a trusted ally among which he had few... and nothing more. So what if she reminded him of Phaere, before her corruption? So what if the memories of her charm and humor were a refreshing breeze to the dark nature of the remainder of his memories? He shifted his focus, something he had become very good at, and instead kept his mind on the goal of finding Suldenesselar... or at least, the general area where the elven city was located. He doubted that he would be able to find the entrance to the elven city without magical aid, but if he knew the elves... and he did know his half-kin... they would be keeping a close guard on the wood surrounding their fair city. His presence would be noticed quickly, which would hopefully lead to him gaining entrance, or at least allowing him to relay a message to his former companions.

Granted, this all assumed that they were still in Suldenesselar when he arrived. They had seemed content enough to remain in the elven city for a time, but he understood their nature. He knew the wonderlust, the drive for adventure and excitement that moved them. And if not that, he knew that the sense of responsibility they had would set them moving again at some point soon, regardless. The only question was when, and if he would be too late when he arrived.

A rustling of the wood caught his ears and he spun in place, drawing the sword he carried with both hands and planting it firmly before him, ready for anything. The foliage before him shook, and a deer bounded outward, past him without stopping. It had been moving too fast and too near to his position for a simple run through the forest- he remained locked on the position that the deer had come through, and sure enough, a wolf pounced outward only moments afterwards. It saw Solaufein and skidded to a halt, rapidly changing its course and darting away within seconds. He watched the entire proceeding with a hint of amusement, knowing that he might've just cost the wolf its lunch, then sheathed his blade and continued on his way.

X X X X X X

"Oy... look sharp. Here they come again. You'd think they'd learned by now..."

Two of the mercenaries, dressed in heavy plate and holding long swords and shields in either hand, looked down from the top of the stairway that led to the gates of Castle Santele. The contingent of guards was five strong, built like tanks, heavy, unshaven, and boorish to the point of no-return. They watched the approach of a crowd of frightened yet determined civilians approach their position for the fifth or sixth time in the past few days, led once more by the bleeding-heart, Bhaalspawn savior Mellissan herself. One of Gromnir's earliest advisiers when he'd taken over the city, it was the only reason she remained untouchable by any, despite her meddling and interference.

Despite all her pretenses at being just one of the common folk, trying to help, her garb was a dead giveaway for her noble ties and wealthy status. Dressed in fine cloths, a blue and yellow dress with auburn hair flowing down her head, her features were kind and good, even if she was far too willing to support the causes of the lost. One of the guards caught the other's gaze, and they exchanged a lecherous wink. She was pretty enough, that was for sure and for certain. What Gromnir didn't know wouldn't hurt him- and from what they'd heard as of late, her status as one of Gromnir's closest was growing more and more strained with each day. Maybe once they'd driven off these common pieces of trash, they could have a little fun with the uppity wench...

A hurtling ball of fire struck one of the towers nearby along the walls of the besieged city, breaking through the magic barriers that the sorcerers who guarded the town were trying desperately to maintain. Rock crumbled and the screams of men dying echoed through the city, but the wall remained solid. Just a false alarm... but another reminder of how much danger they were really in. How long could the city of Saradush hold against these invaders?

The burliest of the ill-tempered guards stepped to the front, spitting down toward the base of the staircase and scowling at the men and women who had braved the siege of the city, the constant bombardment of fireballs and catapults to speak with the militant leader of the town, their 'savior' and tormentor. "Clear out! This is no place for commoners- the general is far too busy to meet with anyone!"

Mellissan, her beauty striking and her tones forceful enough to demand attention while maintaining a sense of regality, raised a hand, fixing eyes with the guard who had just spoke. "These people represent the concerns of the entire town. Please, good sir, hear their case, if only for a moment."

"Our food is almost gone, our children cry out in hunger! Your master must hear our pleas." one woman cried, receiving nothing more than a growl of annoyance from the mercenaries.

"The plight of peasants is not Gromnir Il-Khan's concern. He protects your town and you have the gall to make demands of him! Stand aside, I'll not ask again!"

"If you know what's good for you, you'll all head back to your homes." a second guard added, waving his sword menacingly. "I've an itch to bathe my sword… you'll do nicely if you're not careful!"

"Threats are not the answer here… everyone stay calm and we can work together to find a solution." Mellissan said soothingly, trying to placate the rapidly heating argument.

"The army outside the city will surely kill us all!" another peasant shouted, stepping forward. "Your master cannot just turn his back on us! He promised-"

"Our orders are clear - move these peasants along or we'll move them along ourselves. They've got till the count of three, wench!" the first guard growled.

"No one do anything rash. Perhaps if we return later, when it is more convenient for Gromnir Il-Khan to see us…" Mellissan said, backing up slowly.

The two guards who had been eyeing Mellissan since her arrival began to realize that she might actually convince the peasants to leave, and where would that leave them? Neither of them had felt the touch of a woman in weeks- the lust had struck them already, and it wasn't about to be quenched by a peaceful ending. One of them descended the steps quickly and grabbed Mellissan's wrist with a sneer, the other shouting "Three!!" as he charged the peasants.

"What are you doing?!!" Mellissan shouted in shock and disbelief as the peasants who had accompanied her tried to flee, the violent intent of one soldier quickly erupting into the others, all five mercenaries descending to slaughter and destroy. "Let go of me! Stop this-"

A thunderous roar shook the very ground they stood on as three beams of white light erupted into existence, widening until they were perfect columns of magic, slowly fading away as they revealed the figures inside. Standing in the small, smoking craters that their arrivals had left, Greywulf, Imoen, and Sarevok looked around in confusion for a brief moment, trying to gather their bearings. The soldiers who had rapidly turned their attention from the unarmed civilians to the sudden arrivals by magic were much quicker to make a decision, right or wrong. "Intruders! Spies! The walls have been breached!!"

Mellissan found herself being thrown to the ground as the mercenary who had held her pushed her away, rushing the closest of the invaders with his sword, that one being the shorter girl, pink-haired and blinking wildly as though unsure of what had just happened. She turned her head just in time to see the oncoming rush of his blade- there was no way she would draw the short sword she had at her hip in time. No way she could dodge either- Imoen's eyes widened and she raised a hand, quickly speaking the trigger word to the most basic of spells. Five Magic Missiles leapt from her hand and erupted against the oncoming soldier. He had been too close- as soon as they left her hand, they followed a straight path- straight towards his uncovered head. One Magic Missile to the head would be enough to burn the skin, give a concussion. Two would blind a man. This guard, who so recently had intended to murder the fleeing civilians and rape Mellissan, had only small bits of bone, flesh, and brain matter atop his neck as he sank to the ground at Imoen's feet.

"Do not do this! These might be allies, come to help!" Mellissan shouted, trying to climb to her feet again as the other four mercenaries, enraged at the sudden death of one of their own, bore down upon them. Suffice it to say, Greywulf and Sarevok were already in motion, reflexively defending themselves, and never heard Mellissan's cries for a cessation of hostilities. The Sword of Chaos knocked two blades aside that were meant for his chest, and Greywulf's flurry of flame arrows brought the two men who had attacked him to a defensive halt, trying desperately to hold off his barrage with their rapidly melting shields. Imoen's bow sang twice, and both men who had assaulted Sarevok were on the ground, twitching with arrows lodged in their necks- Sarevok was upon the two other men, now shieldless, in no time at all. They barely had time to prepare, and neither one could bring their swords to bear in time to defend against the wrath of a Deathbringer charge.

Two heads rolled past Mellissan as she looked at the three god-children in awe and respect. In mere seconds, on reflex and instinct alone, they had killed a heavily armored, well trained group of mercenaries with the element of surprise. Children of Murder indeed...

It was only now that they had time to take stock of their situation, to see exactly where they had landed, where they had arrived... and who was not with them. "Where are the others? Jaheira! Minsc!"

"You said that portal would lead us where we needed to go." Imoen scowled as she stared down Sarevok, the warrior folding his arms with nonchalance. "What weren't you telling us?"

"You think I would draw your wrath so purposely?" Sarevok scoffed, showing no fear of the harsh stares that both siblings sent his way. "Look at who arrived- I..."

He halted his words abruptly as Mellissan approached them, a curious smile across her face. He shut his mouth quickly as he turned to face her, a growl in his throat. "Is there something you want, woman?"

"Merely to give thanks to those who rescued her life, as well as the lives of those innocents that fled." she replied easily, bowing to the three of them. "My thanks, and my greetings to all of you. Greywulf, Imoen, Sarevok. Welcome to Saradush. I regret that your first encounter in this town was so... bloody."

"How do you know who we are?" Imoen asked reluctantly, looking around the besieged town, just noticing the state of the city they found themselves in, another fireball exploding against the magical shields that covered the city. "And more importantly, is it safe to be standing out here like this?"

"For your second question... yes. Most of the time. A few bombardments slip in every now and then, but t'would be little more than horrible luck if one were to find you." Mellissan smiled. "As for your first question... I have watched the events of your lives... all three of you, for much of my adult life. Just as I have done with all the progeny of the Lord of Murder. I have seen so many of your kin slain over the past few months and years... including you, Anchev. I must admit, I am surprised to see you alive, much less traveling with those who led to your downfall."

Sarevok growled, but any words were left in his throat as he turned from Mellissan, only half-watching. Greywulf glanced at Sarevok as though to assure himself that the man wasn't going to attack her for her words, then looked back to Mellissan, arching one eyebrow in curiosity. "Our thanks for the hospitality... but you speak as though we should know you, and I don't believe that's the case. And... if you do know anything about our lives, you'll know we've seen a lot of betrayals over the years."

"I understand your fears, and I shall allay them as best I can." Mellissan said, trying to placate with her words. "I know the battles you have fought, and the price you have paid to get where you are now. You are unique among the Children of Bhaal… powerful enough to be a force to be reckoned with, and yet not consumed by the bloodlust and murderous rage that others are, most often leading to their own destruction."

The connotation of her words was enough to spur Sarevok into changing the subject. He leaned forward, his tone dark as he spoke. "Why are the Children of Bhaal of such interest to you? Surely you do not expect us to believe you are a simple historian? Your manner suggests otherwise. I warn you, if you treat us as fools you shall regret it."

"You might consider me to be a… guardian, for want of a better term." Mellissan said with a hint of pride creeping into her voice as she straightened up. "I know the prophecies of Alaundo better than most- I also know some feel that they allude to the return of Bhaal to the Realms. By taking an active interest in the fate of Bhaal's offspring - you, and those like you - I hope to prevent the Lord of Murder from returning to the Realms, in any form."

"So for all your explanations and claims, you're basically just another person meddling in the fate of Bhaalspawn like me an' Greywulf." Imoen scowled.

"Perhaps…" Mellissan admitted, "But my intentions are pure, nonetheless. I seek to prevent any more from dying in senseless violence. I do not know how you all came to be here, but I fear you are now trapped here in Saradush like the rest of us."

"Yes... but not all of us are here." Greywulf said, looking around as though the others might show up unnoticed. "Have you seen three other newcomers? A ranger, a druid and a cleric? I had thought they were with us..."

"No, but my affairs and work in the city keep me inside, away from the activities and goings-on out here most of the time." she shook her head. "You would be better served to ask the locals, perhaps at the inn or the temple. They are the two main bastions for people outside of their homes during this siege."

"Speaking of which, what exactly is going on here?" Greywulf asked, wincing as another explosion dissipated against the magical barriers. "It sounds like a war..."

"Indeed it is." Mellissan replied with a hint of bitterness. "A war of the Bhaalspawn. On one side is the fire giant Yaga-Shura, a Bhaalspawn with an army that seeks to bring this city to the ground. One the other is Gromnir Il-Khan, the general I brought to this city to defend it, and all the other god-children seeking refuge here. I had thought this place would be safe from the ravages that Yaga-Shura brought to other Bhaalspawn across the Sword Coast. I was mistaken."

"And now all the people you tried to save are in danger of being slaughtered." Sarevok said with a hint of smug satisfaction creeping into his voice. "The Road to Hell, after all..."

"Let's... try, and stay on topic." Greywulf tossed Sarevok a harsh glare before turning back to Mellissan, who to her credit, did not seem unnerved by the mammoth warrior's hostility. "I don't quite know why I'm here, to be honest... but helping to stop this slaughter seems like a good place to start. I presume you need help?"

"I had thought you'd never ask." Mellissan's face blossomed in relief. "As I said, I brought General Gromnir and his mercenaries to protect the Bhaalspawn I'd gathered. He has... he has gone mad. After killing the royal family of Saradush, he took over the castle and has since barricaded himself in the throne room. I used to be an advisor to him, even after he took power, in hopes that I could funnel his madness, his power, into something useful. He has locked me out, and I have not seen him in days."

Imoen glanced at Greywulf, "You said we were brought where you *need* to be... if not to put an end to this, than what else?"

"The actions of Gromnir and his soldiers have caused dissension within the town, and made it almost impossible for the loyal Saradush militia to defend the walls." Mellissan explained. "We must first defeat the enemy within before we can end this siege. I have tried dozens of times and failed to find a way inside the castle to confront Gromnir, but I am no warrior. Even if I were to infiltrate the castle, I would undoubtedly be killed or captured by the madman. Perhaps, should you find a way inside, you might be able to reason with him as a sibling... but I fear he is far beyond reason now. As much as it pains me to say it, you will probably have to kill Gromnir to give Saradush any hope of surviving this siege."

"I would not worry." Sarevok advised. "We are more than capable of killing anybody who opposes us, whether it be Gromnir or this Yaga-Shura."

"Then I wish you nothing but the blessings of Tymora." Mellissan jerked in alarm as another catapult tore through the shielding, taking out a nearby house and sending shards of flaming wood hurtling through the air nearby. "I... I may be difficult to find after this, Greywulf. The town suffers, and my hours are spent doing what I can for the people. If you have questions, I suggest you ask them now."

"You spoke of this Yaga-Shura... I have not heard of him, though with an army that has crossed the Sword Coast in search of Bhaalspawn, I should think I would have." Greywulf grunted, lowering his forearm after the explosion. "I have had dreams of one hunting god-spawn... perhaps he is the one I've been dreaming of?"

"You may be right." Mellissan nodded. "He is powerful... though I cannot say much more. Suffice to say that he will not rest until every child of Bhaal within these walls lies dead."

"But why?" Imoen pressed, her child-like features knit in a frown of confusion. "We got attacked just a little bit ago by this girl, telling us she hunted Bhaalspawn. Now this... what's really going on here?"

"It is not hard to understand." Sarevok grunted. "They hunt to claim Bhaal's throne, just as I did. But Imoen is correct- you are not telling us everything. What could be so great of a secret that you would risk everything you claim to hold dear?"

"I... I cannot say, and for that I am sorry." Mellissan said hesitantly, though defiance entered her voice near the end. "Until I am sure you are on my side in this matter I must keep some secrets to guarantee the safety of those I protect. If you wish to save yourself from Yaga-Shura than you will aid me. It is as simple as that."

"Fair enough." Greywulf nodded, hoping to avoid any hostilities between them and the one person they knew in this besieged town so far. "Is there somewhere we can go to get provisions and supplies?"

Mellissan chuckled bitterly and gestured to the devastation around them. "If you're looking for supplies you'll find them at work against the army outside… though we have kept a few stores open to the public. Understandably, most people will resent the presence of yet another Bhaalspawn in Saradush, but the innkeeper at the Tankard Tree is more tolerant than most, and the Temple of Waukeen will turn no one away. Those are the two last major suppliers in town, as I said before."

"And what of our foe?" Greywulf questioned. "If we are to deal with this madman, I hope you have some other plan that us storming the front gates? It might be doable, but I'd rather not risk it."

"I can offer little advice in this matter." Mellissan shrugged. "As you say, Gromnir's own mages make approaching the gates hopeless…you will have to find another way in. I just pray one exists."

"This just keeps getting better." Sarevok growled. "Do we have any time to act, or are the walls collapsing as we speak?"

"The siege could last a few days, or a few months. I can only ask you to act quickly. I'm sorry, but I have no more time to waste. I must depart. May fortune shine on your mission." Mellissan said, bowing low before hurrying off into the clouds of smoke that perpetually floated through the streets of the city. She was out of sight within minutes, leaving the three god-children alone- Greywulf turned back to Sarevok, his eyes glinting dangerously. "Now that she's gone, we need to talk. Where the hell are the others?"

"As I said before, I have no idea. It is you, after all, who lost them." Sarevok retorted. "I told you before we left through the portal that it was you who controlled the power by which we would be transported. Holding onto Imoen and I was undoubtedly easier- we are kin, and the Pocket Plane doorway made it easy for you to keep us close. You undoubtedly lost control of their destination as we transported."

The anger that Greywulf had felt, the blame he had wanted to place at Sarevok's feet... it evaporated as fear took it place. "I... I thought I felt them. Thought I was keeping them close..."

"Then perhaps they are nearby." Sarevok said with an aura of impatience in his voice. "We should leave the streets and get someplace safe. No reason to place ourselves in danger without cause. We can discuss the ins and outs of your power at a later date. Now hurry!"

Imoen nodded to Greywulf, trying to give him a comforting smile. "I'm sure they're just fine. Besides, Jaheira, Minsc, Aerie... they can take care of themselves, right?"

Her words had the intended effect; Greywulf gathered himself and nodded in agreement, the three of them stepping into the ruins of Saradush, into the smoke and the siege, unsure of what awaited them, or even where their companions had found themselves.

X X X X X X

The world strobed as magic brought them through space and time itself; it was as if being at the center of a strike of lightning, the entire ground and air around them sizzling with the acrid stench of smoke and burning. It soon became clear that it was not simply magic and smoke- looking around, they saw piles of bodies, smelled burning flesh, saw piles of rubble and instruments of war. Aerie coughed as she tried to rub the spots and smoke from her eyes, stumbling forward once as Minsc moved to her side instinctively, his sword in hand. "Greywulf? Where are we?"

"Minsc does not see the others-" the ranger grunted, turning and looking for the others. "Boo says that we are in trouble..."

As the sound of alarms and cries rung around them, Jaheira swallowed, trying to quell the rising sense of panic as dozens of soldiers surrounded them, flanked by numerous fire giants in full war plate and hefting hammers as big as the three adventurers. Looking behind her, Jaheira saw the walls of Saradush... from the outside.

"I think the hamster may be right." Jaheira murmured quietly, dropping her spear and raising her hands slowly.