It was a common misconception, to his mind at least, that work and pleasure should remain separate. Actually, he felt it made very little sense at all. Why? If one enjoyed what they did, then what was the point of trying to hide it? No... the hard part was really finding a job one enjoyed whole-heartedly. Too many people found themselves trapped in a boring, hum-drum job that served no purpose than to fill the days and nights between birth and the grave. Just a monotonous activity that would never touch the lives of anyone else. Far better to find a role that not only brought a man pleasure and satisfaction, but one that would make a mark on the world, long after he had crumbled to dust.

That was why, the Doctor reflected as he gathered his tools and prepared for his session with the third of the new arrivals, his job was perfect for him. Perhaps it wasn't the most overt of tasks, and surely he would never be remembered as the conquering chieftain or the god-in-the-making that Yaga-Shura was sure to be, but in the end, it was his delicate touch that provided the fire giant with so many of the opportunities he had gained for conquest. And as he had stated- he enjoyed his work. Perhaps that thought made others think less of him- that he was a twisted monster who took pleasure in the pain of others. That wasn't *quite* accurate. It wasn't so much that he enjoyed watching other people suffer- it was the challenge, the thrill of the hunt, albeit a mental hunt. A game, really. His prey would hide secrets, tidbits of info deep inside their minds, and it was his job to pry those hidden corners open and find out exactly what they weren't telling him.

The Doctor slid his roll of knives and other implements into his robes and began walking toward the tent where the big man was waiting. A ranger, from the looks of him. He hadn't had much time to observe him, meaning that he would be going in blind, with no idea of what sorts of tortures might prove most effective. More challenge, he supposed with a shrug. As a rule, he felt that despite the pain he was about to incur, there was no reason for being impolite or crass. He was a gentleman, after all, and never allowed himself to use spells or magics or poisons when interrogating people. It was unfair- it had to be a test of willpower and strength. How far could he push them, breaking down their willpower without killing them? He'd yet to let one expire before they gave up everything they knew. That had led to the capture of a Bhaalspawn near the Orsraun mountains- he smiled, pushing his glasses up with one finger. Always good to see the results of his work.

He reached the tent where the ranger was being held; sliding the flap open, he stepped inside, exhaling with finality as he looked at the bound Rashemani, taking the measure of his latest challenge. The heat made the rivulets of sweat streaming down his bald head glisten, and it was obvious that the position he had been tied in was not built for comfort- but then again, what the Doctor was about to put him through could nary be called 'comfortable' by anyone. His muscles were taut, and from the number of scars his body bore along with the powerful magic of the weapons he had been carrying, it was quite possible that he was who the druid had said they were. Black Reavers, Bhaalspawn hunters in the service of Illasera. Of course, that was why they'd separated them- if their stories coincided, it might lend credence to the tale that they were all on the same side. If so, and if Yaga-Shura decided to believe them, then they'd all be released. If not... well, he looked forward to finding out exactly who they were.

After staring down the ranger for a moment, their eyes not meeting, he cleared his throat, an obvious gesture to get the attention of the man kneeling before him. "I do hope you're ready for this chat... I've already proceeded to talk to your companions, and they've proved very helpful. I trust you'll do the same... given the proper time and persuasion."

Minsc looked up at the Doctor, his eyes narrowing slightly as he, in turn, took the measure of his opponent. He did not speak- the Doctor let himself smirk a bit. Most warriors of his size and skill might boast about their own willingness to die before speaking... saving his energy, perhaps? This one could be a challenge. He was looking forward to it. Bending down to lay out his full array of tools and implements, he unrolled the parcels, showing off the glinting metal knives, the bonesaws and the twisting razors. "Anything you wish to say before we begin?"

He watched the ranger intently, looking for any sign of weakness or fear in his eyes- a tell, to see what the man feared the most of the implements that were laid out before him. Nothing- he only seemed to glance away for a moment, to the borders of the tent, before looking back at the Doctor with a... a smile? The Doctor let himself pause a moment, considering the proper response. It wasn't the tough-guy, 'I've got more than enough to handle this' kind of smirk that he'd seen and broken before. This was a knowing smile- a smile that suggested that he knew something the Doctor didn't. Well. It had been a while since he'd been given a proper challenge. He'd play along.

"Is there something that amuses you, sir? I promise you that once I have begun, you will have very little to smile about."

The ranger leaned forward, shaking his head slightly. "You will regret what you have done to Jaheira, Aerie, and Minsc. Boo is free, and he will not rest until Minsc and the others are free too!"

Boo? The Doctor filed away the name in his head for future reference, though the confident nature of the ranger's vocabulary, if slightly limited by an obviously barbaric upbringing still gave him cause to hold back before beginning his work in earnest. "Is that so? And who is this 'Boo'? Another of your group?"

"Heh... Boo is the mentor of Minsc! Wherever Minsc goes, so does Boo- he has guided Minsc's path, and he will take great vengeance on you for what you do, little man!"

A mentor... if the skill and power of the man he had bound before him was any indication, then this 'Boo' must have been very powerful to have taught the ranger. The Doctor considered this development- surely one man, no matter how powerful, no matter how strong the connection and bond between he and the ranger, would never risk trying to infiltrate the war camp to rescue him. Or would he? What if they were indeed Black Reavers, and this Boo was the one of them as well? Minsc's sideways glance earlier- the Doctor found himself checking over his shoulder out of reflex, a slight twinge of unease in his bones. He was very good at deciphering when people were lying and when they were telling the truth. As far as he could tell- Minsc was speaking pure fact. The ranger believed every word he'd said so far... he gathered himself, determined to regain control of the 'interview'. "Perhaps when your mentor arrives, I shall be given the pleasure of breaking him as well."

"Boo would never be caught by the likes of you!" Minsc growled, a feral grin crossing his features. "He has magic that he keeps hidden and is wiser than all, even Greywulf!"

That name... the ward of Gorion? The Doctor's head began to spin- this Boo must be a wizard of some kind- of course, Illasera would have wanted a magician on her side to counter the powers that the Bhaalspawn she was hunting commanded. "And what do you know of Gorion's ward?"

"Minsc will say no more." the ranger closed his mouth abruptly, shaking his head with a determined look on his face. "Boo is here, and when he frees Minsc, you will regret your evil little deeds!"

The wizard was here? The Doctor stumbled to his feet, turning around, as though expecting to see the visage of an aged wizard, ready to immolate him with lightning and fire. No... he needed time to think this over. Either this ranger was favored by Illasera, or he was far more devious than he had expected. He could not proceed further... not yet. Perhaps it would be best if Yaga-Shura spoke with these men and women himself- no. He was notoriously lax when it came to keeping up with the other members of the Five. He would not care or know if these men were telling the truth about their association with Illasera. And for that matter, he wouldn't want to bother contacting them to find out. This was the Doctor's responsibility... and his head if he screwed up. The Doctor glared heavily at the tight-lipped ranger, bending down and gathering his tools before pointing at Minsc with an air of bravado he certainly did not feel. "I shall find out the truth, of that you can be certain! And if your wizard mentor arrives, let him pray that I do not have the opportunity to question him as well!"

He left the tent, Minsc blinking once in confusion as he said to nobody in particular, "Wizard? Boo is no wizard... he is a hamster. A Miniature Giant Space Hamster. Why do people find this so difficult to understand?"

A squeak caught his attention, and Minsc grinned as Boo scurried into the tent from underneath the outside flap, quickly coming to his bonds that kept him tied down. The ropes were already frayed from constant chewing, and with just a bit more, Minsc would be able to break the ropes with brute force. Of course, what to do after he was free was another matter. His weapons were gone, as was his armor, and he didn't know where the others were. That was okay, in retrospect, considering that Minsc preferred to make up his plans as he went.

X X X X X X

The sound of another catapult launching a fireball against the weakening barrier surrounding Saradush was like thunder- its constant drum and beat was loud enough to make ignoring it or becoming accustomed to it impossible. Gods only knew how difficult it must have been for those inside the embattled city- trying to sleep with that racket, never knowing if the next impact would be the one that finally broken the wards and let a flood of bloodthirsty soldiers pouring inside.

The fire giants that manned the catapults roared with bloodlust and energy as they continued their assault, launching arrows and ballista shots, every now and then feeling the sting of the arrows that the wall defenders shot. Several dozen bodies lay rotting in the intense heat, though the number of men who guarded the wall and defended it with their lives grew smaller with each passing day. Stepping through a pool of blood and water, part of what had once been a hastily constructed moat to help protect the city, a battalion of soldiers in full helmet and armor marched toward the other side of the city walls, where a drain that led directly into the city was. The blasted gate was magically locked and warded, and every attempt to get inside using it as a passage had failed, but the army never stopped trying. Of course, from what he had heard, things might be different this time around. Whispers of help from the inside- which was why he didn't have any more time to delay. If he was to have any chance of making a difference, it had to be now. At the back of the formation, one man peered out from beneath his helmeted visor, his eyes furtive and quick as he looked for an opportunity. It had taken him almost two days to infiltrate the army and finally reach a point where he was almost positive that he would not be discovered... so long as he acted like every other soldier, of course.

There... several piles of munitions and catapult equipment were stacked off to their right, only a few seconds sprint for him- less if he weren't wearing this blasted armor. He hated wearing the stuff- necessary for blending in, but a pain in the rear for those of his chosen profession. Still, no reason to hurry if he didn't have to, he supposed. It was truly surprising how far one could get if they just blended in and acted like they knew where they were doing. Most people didn't question- those who did, well, a silver tongue didn't hurt none. As their formation passed aside the munitions dump, he abruptly broke from their march and made a straight march toward the weaponry. He could feel a few sideways glances from the rest of the men that he had been working with, but none of them bothered to ask what he was doing. Most of the grunts like him wouldn't either... they'd let the fire giants throw that authority around. Luckily, few of the mammoth humanoids spent their time overseeing the troops; they were far more interested in serving their 'god' and attempting to be the first to break down the defenses of this dying city.

As he finally got behind cover where he could plan his next move, he wondered to himself just how long the defenses of this place would continue to hold up. Surely no more than another week or so, less if whatever plan that had been concocted to break through this grate succeeded. They'd been trying to hold back this siege for too long, without any sort of relief or aid... no, Saradush had one foot in the grave and the other on the proverbial banana peel. Just a matter of time. As for the people that were inside... that was another story. He'd been one of those on hand when the three 'Black Reavers' had teleported into the war camp. And luckily for them, he'd been the first one to react when Minsc had looked like he might try defending Aerie with lethal force. A swift knock to the back of the head had created an example for the others, and they'd been taken alive. If they'd been killed, he hated to think of how Greywulf would have reacted. Surely he wasn't far away- probably inside the city, if the Bhaalspawn's past actions and penchant for getting into trouble were any indication.

Still, he'd heard the stories that Jaheira had given to the Doctor, and he knew that sooner or later, they wouldn't hold up. Either word from Illasera would finally get back to this camp, or they'd be forced to answer a question they couldn't bluff their way out of. They needed some way of getting out of this place, and he, in his magnanimous and roguishly charming manner, would attempt to provide one. In fact, the more that he thought about it, the more he knew exactly how he could not only free the captives, but get them to 'safety' at the same time. Sometimes he outdid himself, really. Sure, Linvail probably wouldn't approve, but he'd been sent there by the Shadow Master to spy and evaluate the circumstances and report back. Letting these bloodthirsty god-spawn run amuck was bad for business after all, and if anyone was capable of helping end this whole Bhaalspawn affair, it would be Imoen, Greywulf and their crew- let no man say that Gaelan Bayle didn't know how to keep an eye on the bottom line.

X X X X X X

"Jaheira...?"

"Unngh... yes Aerie?"

The distorted, pained tone to her voice did nothing but further the concern of the Avariel, craning her head behind her to try and get a look at the druid bound with her. Their interrogator hadn't been back since that first session, but neither had they been given any relief from whatever inhalant had been limiting their voices- neither had a free hand to cast any healing spells, and their captors surely weren't going to be sending in anyone soon to put a splint on Jaheira's broken finger.

"How are you holding up?"

"I have... been better." Jaheira swallowed, trying to ignore the burning in her throat, as well as the sweat pouring down her face. Of course, it wasn't too hard to do either. The intense throbbing in her finger kept her focused on that for most of the time, trying to push it from the forefront of her mind. Needed to concentrate... needed to find a way out. Patience, that's what was needed.

Aerie didn't speak again, knowing just how difficult it was for both of them to respond, and non-essential queries wouldn't help the matter. What mattered was getting them out- and Aerie was determined to find a way. She hadn't broken many bones, but there had been a few incidents during her time adventuring. She remembered just how badly it hurt, and continued to hurt until she'd received a healing spell, or some sort of splint... a flashback of her time back in Faenya-Dail, learning to use magic for the first time, came unbidden to her mind. Trying to cast her arcane spells, and losing control of one of them, crying out in pain as the diffusing energies had exploded in her hands, burning her skin and breaking two fingers.

Besides... she'd failed miserably when that 'Doctor' had been in. It was like being back in the circus all over again- afraid, unable to move, to defend herself, even to speak. She'd been ashamed, humiliated. That shame had gradually turned into resolve, and that resolve had turned into anger. She was going to get out of this camp, and she was going to get Jaheira and Minsc out with her. And with the help of Aerdrie Faenya and Baervan Wildwanderer, she was going to make their captors burn.

The sound of her friend's unhidden moans and half-hearted attempts at hiding them only served to enflame her passion to get free of this place-if they were caught trying to escape, it would damn any chances they had of getting them to believe their story about Illasera, but it would all be worth it if they could get out and locate the others. That, however, was another issue for another time. As for getting out- she struggled vigorously, but their bonds were tight and unmoving. She wished Imoen were here- the rogue would have had some escape plan, some kind of knife or pick hidden somewhere on her. She tried to think back, to remember everything that her best friend had taught her about getting out of situations like this...

Jaheira could feel Aerie's sudden influx of resistance, her attempts to get free, and if she knew the girl's caring spirit, it was out of concern for Jaheira's well being. It was an admirable, if foolish gesture. They'd be in no condition to fight if they did get out, and surely they'd caused enough of a stir arriving that they'd be recognized by anyone if they tried sneaking away. Not that their odds looked particularly good by simply sitting and waiting for some miracle to fall into their laps. She thought of the others- well, Greywulf and Imoen anyway. Sarevok could go right ahead and die for all she cared, but if the other two were driven to do something stupid- and as well as she knew them, that was a distinct possibility- well, she'd rather not have more deaths on her conscience.

The sound of armored boots crunching on the gravel and burned soil outside the tent got her attention- their tormentor, back to question them further? She steeled herself, trying to nudge Aerie with her elbow. Before the flap opened wide, the sound of another set of steps hurrying their direction reached her ears, and if she listened carefully, she could make out the barest hints of a conversation, heated as it was. "Just what does a grunt like you think you're doing with these prisoners? I assure you, if you had any intentions of satisfying your primal lusts, then do it elsewhere!"

It was the Doctor's voice- well. He was okay with torture, but not rape. That was... something, she supposed, though she decided to save her gratitude for when she had the man at the end of her spear. The other voice- somehow familiar- spoke up, "Nothing like that, aye. We'n the boys thought that what with the latest attempt at gettin' inside the walls, we might push these'uns in line first. Be a good use for 'em, eh? Better'n letting 'em sit in here and rot. S'ides, if they's who they say who they are, should be a plus for tryin to push back the-"

The Doctor's voice cut the other speaker off, ice in his tone. "And how, may I ask do you know what it is they claim to be exactly? I have been the only one to interrogate them, and have most certainly not divulged any information to the rank and file like yourself."

"Er... word gets around, eh? You know how it is- people overhear stuff, pass it along to the boys, and there ye go. Nothin sinister if that be what you're thinkin."

Silence... was the Doctor actually considering this idea? If he was, then it was a stroke of absolutely unbelievable luck, and that in itself was enough to make Jaheira suspicious. They weren't this lucky. They'd proven that in the past. No way an opportunity as golden as this was about to fall into their laps unaided. That voice, the man who was talking to the Doctor... it sounded so familiar, but by Silvanus, where had she heard it before?

"I suppose your words have merit, though I would exercise caution- the other one, the warrior... he has a mentor that may have taken offense to our treatment of them and could be on his way as we speak. Be on the lookout for this wizard."

A wizard? But that didn't make sense- Greywulf most certainly wasn't Minsc's mentor. That role belonged to the one and only- Jaheira could not help but let a smile cross her chapped and cracked lips as she heard Aerie stifle a chuckle. Somehow, someway... Minsc had done it again. Of course, if that small bit of light in the darkness was enough to make them smile, the next phrase they heard was enough to turn that candle flicker into a full eruption of flame. "Coo! I'll be gatherin these up and then the ranger, as quick as ye blink!"

No mistaking that cockney accent anywhere- Gaelan Bayle. But why?

Jaheira watched him slide into the tent, his face obscured by the helmet he wore, but beneath the visor she could see his glimmering eyes- and she could see the wink he tossed her way.

X X X X X X

The sorcerer resisted the urge to grind his teeth in a mixture of frustration and irritation. Once again- when the man was right, he was right. Within a few hours, Sarevok had managed to intimidate nearly every possible group or soldier that they'd crossed paths with. And he had been right- none of them seemed like they'd be interested in withholding information or even keeping company with the pair of Bhaalspawn now. It was well acknowledged that the Bhaalspawn were blamed for the siege of the city, and perhaps rightly so... but there were very few now who would try and place their anger upon this particular pair.

The fact that they were still locked outside the castle was less a matter of finding those who weren't willing to talk, and more a matter of simply not finding the people who had that knowledge to begin with. They'd been given naught but rumors and hearsay for the most part, but one solid lead had cropped up from a particularly frightened Bhaalspawn in the streets. An old dungeon sealed up that would lead under the castle, but nobody seemed to know how one would open the seals- that and the legends of an undead army lurking underneath made them hesitant to try that particular method.

Greywulf glanced at the armored mammoth beside him, wondering just how the fates had led him into this particular pairing... never in his wildest dreams had he imagined himself standing side by side with Sarevok, his archenemy for so long. What would Gorion have said, seeing him now... no. He pushed that guilt-ridden thought from his head and instead found himself looking into what was almost certainly a fight waiting to erupt. A group of the soldiers of Saradush was faced off with several heavily armed dwarves, and between the shouts and racial epithets being hurled back and forth, cries of blame for the siege were audible as well.

Sarevok snickered as he looked upon the two sides, folding his arms with satisfaction. "Heh... are these fools so eager for death that they would seek it while the army yet waits outside? If so, then they deserve the oblivion they so eagerly run towards."

"We should stop this- it won't help matters any if rioting breaks out amidst the townsfolk." Greywulf countered, trying to wave Sarevok on with him, but the big man refused to budge. "Sarevok? Didn't you hear me-"

"I heard you well enough, but you have mistaken me for someone who cares about the wellbeing of these pathetic worms." the Deathbringer smirked, his tones low and dark. "If you wish to waste your time trying to aid these fools, then I shall watch with rapt attention. I am sure that the 'better ways' you continue to prattle on about will prove effective in quenching their bloodlust."

"It doesn't always have to be about threats and bloodletting, and I'll prove it." Greywulf shot back, feeling the heat rise within him. Sarevok's goads were growing tiresome quickly, and he could only pray that they found Minsc and the others soon enough. Bad enough he had to constantly be on guard for any treachery by his sibling, he didn't need to continually worry about the fates of the rest of his adopted family. He'd professed to trust in the skills of his friends, and not adopt the foolhardy strategies that had nearly gotten him and the rest of the group killed back at the De'Arnise Keep and the rest of Athkatla, but that didn't mean he didn't worry for the lives of those he loved. For Helm's sake, he'd resurrected Jaheira and proposed to her in a plane of Hell- though that had yet to go anywhere beyond that single instance.

He pushed the thoughts of his companions from his mind and stepped out into the middle of the rapidly degenerating circle, raising a hand toward either side. "Enough! Both of you need to calm yourselves and remember that the real enemy is outside these walls! If you want to survive this siege, you should start thinking about working together!"

"Bah! Who do ye think ye are, boy?!" one of the dwarves spat, the gooey liquid landing on the tip of Greywulf's boot. "These long-legged fetchers want to blame us for their troubles, then we'll nay back away from a challenge, right laddies?!"

A chorus of affirmation rose from the other dwarves, though Greywulf's attention was taken by one of the soldiers, grabbing a fistful of Greywulf's outer robe, bringing him close to his face with a sneer. "Y'see what they're like? Scum, ground-dwelling rock heads that take and take and use our resources and contribute nothing! We're the ones keeping this town safe, and you want us to just share the supplies we need with these leeches? I don't think so! Now get out of our way, or prepare to get killed with them filthy dwarves!"

He pushed Greywulf away, the sorcerer nearly losing his balance as he stumbled back with the shove. From the looks of the blades being drawn behind and afore him, he had maybe a second or two to get out of the way before he would be caught in the middle of an all out street brawl. Greywulf realized in less than that time that no amount of diplomacy would prevent this battle from taking place, which left him with two options. Both of them meant swallowing his pride in front of Sarevok... only one meant people surviving to hopefully fight the enemy outside. Before either side could land a blow, Greywulf raised a hand and let his magic swell, flowing around him as he intoned the words to a Tenser's Transformation- as the sorcerer grew to superhuman height and strength, he grabbed the man who had shoved him and lifted him off the ground, his voice dark and booming through the street. "I'm through asking nicely. Clear these streets now, or feel the wrath of a Bhaalspawn unleashed!"

He threw the man onto the ground with a rather inglorious thud, the dwarves behind him already backing up slowly, fear and hesitation across their bearded faces. "Aye... we did'nae ask for trouble with one of ye Bhaalspawn. We know how quick yer tempers be..."

"The dwarves are right-" one of the soldiers nodded, quickly helping his companion back to his feet as they retreated. "We were just letting off some steam, that's all- no need for this sort of thing. Let's get out of here!"

Within moments, the entire street corner was deserted, with the exception of Greywulf and Sarevok, the former slowly shrinking back to his normal size as the latter watched with amusement, no attempt made to hide the smirk across his face. "A better path indeed, brother."

Greywulf didn't try to rebuke his darker sibling, because in reality, there was nothing to be said in rebuke. "You were right. There are times when the only thing that will get people off their asses is a threat of violence. Happy?"

"Ecstatic." Sarevok arched one eyebrow and stepped forward with Greywulf to continue stalking down the path that led toward the Temple where they had set to meet Imoen. "Tell me, brother, do you not see the wisdom of my words? Has there ever been a foe, an obstacle that you could not quickly and easily resolve with the proper use of a blade?"

"Maybe not, but even you can't deny that sometimes a subtle touch is more suited to the situation." Greywulf countered, taking up the argument quickly. "Your plans for Baldur's Gate would have failed utterly if all you'd done was slaughter everyone in your path."

"Hah... perhaps you forget, but my entire plan was to slaughter everyone who got in my path!" Sarevok laughed bitterly. "The only difference was the manipulation to lead my foes into the places and paths where I was free to unleash my wrath upon them. That is what you should focus yourself on- a task which you, intentionally or not, accomplished moments ago. Those fools will stay out of your way from now on, and provide more bodies to stem the tide of the soldiers outside the gates. More bodies to be thrown in your place, weakening this Yaga-Shura's army so that he will be easier to kill in the end."

"And I suppose you'll tell me that you've never felt the slightest hint of remorse for your actions? For those who've suffered because of you?" Greywulf shot back. "I've killed hundreds, just like you. But there have been others, good, innocent people who've died because of actions I took. Because of my very existence."

"I suppose you refer to your Gorion?" Sarevok asked with a hint of disdain. "Should I care about those I scarcely knew? Those who met their ends because of actions I took? Their destiny was their own, and if they were unfortunate enough to be caught up in my wake, then so be it. I will not waste my thoughts on fools and weaklings."

"You should care." Greywulf replied evenly, allowing himself a bit of satisfaction in his next words. "If you hadn't killed Gorion, I would have never known of your existence. I never would have become what I am today. I never would have killed you, if you need me to spell that out for you."

"Your sarcasm and condescension are unnecessary." Sarevok grunted, glaring with his glowing yellow eyes. "I would have hunted down all of the Bhaalspawn eventually, making enemies of far more than you and your band of allies. Your actions in halting my plans and, indeed, even killing me were possibilities and risks that I took. My decision, nobody else's."

"I see." Greywulf paused for a moment, considering his words- was it going too far to bring her up? Maybe... but he was just incensed enough to go for the low blow anyway. "And what about Tamoko? I suppose her death was just another risk you took, hmm?"

For the first time that Greywulf had ever seen, Sarevok flinched. His fist clenched, and it was not unreasonable to believe that the Deathbringer would take offense at the casual raising of his dead lover... Greywulf's worries were relieved, if only slightly, when the man exhaled heavily and nodded to Greywulf slightly. "Hnh. An interesting move, brother. I did not foresee you bringing her into this. Were it someone else who had done this, I would rip their spine from their neck for such insolence."

"Lucky me." Greywulf muttered, as Sarevok continued.

"Tamoko... knew what I was. She knew what my goals were, and what I sought. I would have given her everything that my godhood allowed... and instead, she betrayed me. Regretful, but certainly not the life-changing event that you would believe it to have been. Aside from all this, it was not I who killed her. You and your own were the ones to end her life. Do not think I have forgotten that fact."

"Except we didn't." Greywulf countered, drawing a sharp glare from Sarevok. "She confronted us outside the Temple of Bhaal, hoping she could regain your favor by killing us. We spoke, and she saw just what kind of path you were following. She left willingly, Sarevok. Willingly deserted your cause."

Sarevok opened his mouth to reply- the ground shook and an explosion rocked the city as alarms sounded and the cries of the city's defenders rang through the air. Greywulf pushed himself off the ground, shaking his head in confusion as he looked back and forth, trying to figure out what happened. "What the hell just happened? Did something just hit us?!"

"No..." Sarevok growled, drawing the Sword of Chaos from its sheath as he began making his way toward the back city wall, where shouts and sounds of battle were beginning to echo back from. "The walls have been breached!"

"Greywulf! What's happening?!" Imoen's voice got Greywulf's attention, the sorcerer looking behind him as Imoen came darting out of the Temple of Waukeen, her bow drawn and an arrow already at the string.

"No time to explain- we might have to get out of this place quickly, so stick close!" Greywulf called behind him as he gripped his staff tightly, turning the corners of the alleys and paths that led to the back city wall. Imoen caught up to them with ease and together the three Bhaalspawn arrived, finding enemy soldiers pouring into the back of the city, stemming out of an opened drain path. The city guard of Saradush was hurrying back to prevent the city from being overrun, but those who had been there initially were quickly being overwhelmed and in moments, there would be dozens of the enemy inside the city.

Needed to thin their numbers fast, or at least give the city guard time to react- Greywulf raised a hand, uttering incantations as lightning arced from his hands and jumped from man to man, the electricity playing over the water that had soaked those entering through the drain- it hit another enemy combatant just crawling into the city, though instead of striking the man inside the armor, it was absorbed by- a pin dangling from the woman's neck? Greywulf's eyes opened wide as he recognized the face on the woman as she looked up, her face dirtied and worn, but unmistakable nonetheless.

"Jaheira?!"

Behind her crawled an abnormally large soldier, almost too big to fit through the drain tunnel, then a witch whose features were far too dirty to be that of the elven lass he'd been traveling with for so long-

"Coo! Watch where ye launch that lightning of yours, eh?" one of the soldiers who had come in ahead of the three turned and threw off his helmet, before turning to one of his fellow soldiers and plunging a sword into his belly, the betrayed man never seeing what had hit him. "Well don't just stand there, aye? Help ol' Gaelan close this little passage up!"

Greywulf barely overheard Imoen's words of disbelief, and all he could do was agree silently. "You have got to be kidding..."