"We should never have let her go it alone." Greywulf muttered, veritably pacing outside the locked door that led into the Castle dungeons. They'd followed the vampires there once the courtesans had all taken their leave, and were waiting for Aerie to open the portal for them so they could continue as one. Or at least, that had been the plan. It had been almost ten minutes since Imoen had watched the door shut, the last of the undead slipping inside. She'd fetched the others, and they'd come as quick as they could- but no Aerie. "I should have been the one-"
"Neither you nor Imoen could have risked your lives to do this, and we all know that." Sarevok cut him off, a sternness to his voice that was not as harsh as usual- perhaps out of mutual concern for their companion? No... he was never so sympathetic to the others. "Both of you are too involved in the prophecies of Bhaal to be risked in something so trivial in comparison. Our lives are expendable. Yours are not."
"Expendable?" Imoen asked with a hint of both rage and shock as she walked to face Sarevok closely. "Aerie's my friend, and if anyone here is 'expendable,' I'd say it's you!"
The vampires had hesitated for a brief moment upon seeing the power that this little elf cleric commanded- but only for a moment. With howls of fury and bloodlust, they charged forward, unrelenting and legion in number. Aerie's eyes narrowed- she had hoped that an overwhelming display of power would be enough to discourage the army of undead from attacking. As it was, for all her bravado, they were pushing her into a battle she wasn't sure she could win.
Two were nearly on top of her, one in midair with claws outstretched for her throat, the other hunched and ready to take her legs out from under her. An admirable attempt to come from two areas, hoping that one would get her if the other didn't. Of course... that's what Contingency spells were for, right? The moment one of their cold, clammy fingertips touched her skin, magical energies crackled around her and she was enveloped in the power of a Mantle spell, rendering her body immune to every claw and fang that tried to strike her. Even as more and more vampires hurtled towards her, she began chanting, trying to finish her spell before the effects of her protection wore off- there.
A brown skull appeared in Aerie's slender hands, and she let a smile creep across her face as she hurled it at her feet.
"Let's get it straight, Sarevok." Greywulf said with steel in his tone. "Think whatever you like, but nobody here gets thrown to the wolves in my stead. I can't imagine you'd be so quick to call yourself an asset to be used and discarded if it meant prolonging my existence."
"Bah! You still fail to see the larger picture." Sarevok sneered in reply. "Of course my life is secondary to your own! You have resurrected me once- your powers may be up to the task of doing it a second time. You, however... should you die, what is left for me? Whose power shall I share from if not yours? Our sister will surely not take the Throne of Blood for her own."
"And what makes you think Greywulf would do so?" Jaheira asked, the usual venom in her voice when dealing with Sarevok, but in this instance her tone possessed less vitriol and more... fear?
"Because we are kin." Sarevok smirked, glancing once at Jaheira before folding his arms and turning back to the glowering half-elf. "And I know the lust that lurks in his heart. For it once lurked in mine... and it will not be sated until it is fed. Or he meets his end."
Several bodies fell to the ground, shriveled husks of dead flesh that blew away in the darkness. Aerie was left standing alone where once a dozen Nosferatu had attempted to claim her, a feat worthy of song and tale by any bard. Her eyes faded to their normal blue, and she suddenly felt very much more alone, now that the adrenaline was slowly draining away. She could feel each thud of her heart pumping, beating against her chest like a drum as she forced herself to try and calm down. She had been victorious after all- all that she needed to do now was find the key to the door behind her in all the rags lying at her feet.
She knelt, still glancing upwards every few seconds in case another ambush came her way- and one surely would, if this jail was as big as Sister Farielle had claimed. Why the other vampires hadn't swarmed yet was still something of a mystery, but one she'd be happy to let the others solve alongside her if she could just find that blasted key-
"Looking for this, my dear?"
A silky smooth voice caught Aerie's attention as her head shot up, spying an outstretched hand from the darkness with a golden key twinkling inside the palm. The hand, gray in pallor and clawed at the nails, closed as the full figure stepped out into the light to where Aerie could see him. He was a tall man, with jet black hair that was slicked back into a ponytail. A black cloak with red trim flowed behind him and he was dressed in finery that was unsuited for such a place. His red eyes flashed in the darkness and he smiled broadly, his fangs showing far too easily.
Despite this imposing figure, Aerie swallowed her fear and stood to her full, if unimposing, height. "I seek that key, yes. Turn it over to me and I will not harm you."
The vampire laughed, tucking the key into a breast pocket of the crimson vest he was wearing. He stepped backwards, disappearing into the shadow once more- and with the rush of air, Aerie whirled, looking for the attack to come- a blur caught her eye and she drew her stake, thrusting it out in hopes of catching her opponent unaware- an iron grip caught her wrist, and she looked up in despair at the vampire's pale, cold features, inches away from hers. "That was... ill-advised."
A palm planted on her chest gave a firm push, augmented by the strength of the vampire; she flew into the metal door behind her, thudding against it before sliding to the ground in pain. Her shoulder was numb from the blow- any harder and her bones would have shattered. She looked up, mentally wondering if she could get a hold of the vial of holy water under her robes without him noticing. Or before he killed her.
"I admit, when I first saw you enter our domain I thought little of you. My greatest concern was how well one so... small, as you would feed our brethren. You are certainly not the type to be pulled in by our courtesan bait." the vampire said, his tone made all the more menacing by how calm, collected, relaxed he sounded.
"I k-killed a dozen of your kin." Aerie mustered, trying to sound unafraid, even as she lay on the cold ground before this creature. "If you release me I will not harm you."
The urge to strike Sarevok was growing too powerful- the man knew just how and just where to push his buttons, to summon the rage and anger that was always lurking somewhere, buried beneath his exterior. Greywulf forced it down, taking a step back from the warrior lest he do something he would later regret. "Don't push me, 'brother.' You think every Bhaalspawn is a monster like you? You have no idea what I'm like. Or Imoen."
"Don't I?" Sarevok laughed, unfazed by the growing hostility directed towards him from all corners of the group. "You forget how long I hunted you. Studied you. Made you and your death my obsession..."
The big man paused a moment, and to any observer, it seemed that he was hesitating to continue taunting the powerful men and women before him. In truth... that's exactly what was giving him pause. Not out of fear though... out of caution. It was too easy to let his anger, his hatred of Greywulf overwhelm his good sense and ruin his plans... plans that would fail if Greywulf didn't learn to trust him, to believe him. The goads were an essential part of it- the man would be suspicious if he immediately halted treating him with the disdain he truly felt for him, but he had to keep the verbal warfare to a minimum... enough to assure Greywulf he had no ulterior motives. He continued, scarce a moment between pausing and speaking. "But how long shall we bicker about this? Your friend is in there, and unless she emerges soon, we have no choice but to assume the worst..."
No sudden onrush of death. No quick, overwhelming display of force that would spell her final end. If her threat had annoyed the regal undead before her, it did not show. He simply smoothed his cloak once again, then took a step backward. "I shall make it clear and plain to you, girl, that your threats, as amusing as they are, will not buy you any more time than I choose to lend. Your only reason for survival thus far is that you... intrigue me. Your power and your manner suggest that you had a reason for entering here. Tell me... what was it?"
Should she say anything? The question froze her as she considered it. The longer she talked, the longer she lived... but would any of it really buy her freedom? And if she did talk, would it put her friends in harm's way?
"Hmm. I had thought you might remain silent." he sighed, exhaling lightly. "Very well."
He made a quick motion with one hand, and in the darkness, dozens of red eyes shone, speaking to just how many undead lurked in these jails. Aerie's sense of self-preservation kicked in, and she heard herself speaking before she knew it. "The Castle.... I... my companions and I, needed to get inside the castle. Gromnir's men have barred and locked the front gates, so we thought to enter through the jails."
Her words warranted a look of incredulity- the vampire raised a hand behind him, halting the feeding frenzy that was assuredly about to take place, and shook his head in wry amusement. "You thought that navigating the lair of my kin would prove a safer route? Foolish beyond measure. Tell me, who told you of this route? I shall have to thank them for sending me such delightful sport."
"Sister Farielle, a cleric at the temple-" Aerie began, halting as she saw the vampire's eyes narrow with recognition. "You... know her?"
"I do..." he murmured, pausing a moment as he glanced about the jails, his features knitting with thought and memory in the flickering torchlight. "She and I were... close, once upon a time. We met here, in these jails for many a midnight tryst when I was yet mortal."
His words connected the pieces that had been floating through her brain for so long- Aerie nodded in understanding, suddenly understanding the regality of this particular vampire, his show of... 'manners,' if it could be called such. "You're the Count Santele... aren't you?"
He arched a thin, black eyebrow and then bowed low, a hint of appreciation on his fanged features. "I am. And though I rarely acquaint myself with food, I feel it only proper to ask your own name, given that you know mine."
She slowly got to her feet, avoiding any sudden moves, trying not to alarm the swarm she was surrounded by. The Count Santele, leader of a coven of vampires beneath the castle. An idea was forming in her mind, one that might not just save her life, but the city of Saradush... in a manner of speaking. Minsc wouldn't like it. Greywulf certainly wouldn't. But they weren't here and she was. Besides, if her plan succeeded, then it might all be worth it. She bowed respectfully as well before fixing her gaze on the Count, refusing to show weakness- her blue eyes a stark contrast to the glowing red of the Count's. "I am Aerie, an Avariel of Faenya-Dail... and if you will listen, I have a proposition for you."
"We don't abandon our own. That's the rule." Greywulf said with a modicum of restraint, bringing his temper back under control. "If she doesn't come out soon- we'll just have to get in."
Even among his stalwart companions, that idea drew a few raised eyebrows, though Minsc nodded without hesitation, his concern for the safety of his witch having grown each moment she was out of his sight. It had taken a direct plea from Aerie for him not to follow her into the jails to begin with- all the talk of her being left behind was doing nothing for his self-control. "Yes!! Minsc will bring down the walls if he must to reach his witch!"
"Not a bad plan, actually." Greywulf murmured, glancing at the doorway before them and the walls surrounding it. "The doorway will be warded against forced entry while it's locked- but if we can find some way of getting through a wall- a direct hit from one of the catapults outside would do the job nicely."
"And it would also release every creature inside into the city without hesitation." Jaheira reminded, considering the idea. "We cannot throw this city into any further turmoil- they are hanging by a thread as it stands now."
"You sound as if you actually find this plan worthy of consideration!" Sarevok laughed, shaking his head with arms folded across his chest. "How would you propose to use the fire giants' weapons in such a manner? Asking politely, perhaps?"
"Watch it." Imoen snapped, before nodding to Greywulf with a tight smile. "We've made crazier things work out, that's fer sure..."
Even as she spoke, the metal door beside them swung open with shrieks of protest from the hinges. All five turned with weapons ready, unsure of whether to greet their companion with joy at her mission complete, or to greet a foe with blade and spell; they were certainly not expecting to find both. Aerie stood side by side with the Count, the vampire gesturing with one hand toward the open portal behind him. "Good evening... I am Count Santele. Please, come in."
X X X X X X
"Greywulf... you know how much I hate vampires."
"I know, Im... me too."
"Then why the hell are we doing this?!"
Imoen's frustrated, worried hiss was not falling on deaf ears- Greywulf wondered the same exact question even as he followed the Count through darkened passages, past jail cells that were populated with the bones and old clothes of prisoners turned food for the vampires that made their dwelling here. All throughout the darkness, eyes watched their passage, simply waiting for an opportunity to gorge themselves on the meals walking amongst them.
Greywulf tossed Aerie another glance, wondering just how it had come to this. He was very much looking forward to finding out just what she'd been doing to get them into this situation; it wasn't every day one was invited to dinner by a legion of the undead... unless you were the main course. Still, somehow Aerie had not only discovered the identity of the vampires' leader - the previously thought exiled Count Santele- and struck some kind of bargain with him, which was leading them to have a nice quiet sit down somewhere deep in the bowels of the jails. Somewhere if, things went wrong, there would be absolutely no chance of escape from.
"This is a mistake, brother." Sarevok growled, his voice low, one hand on the hilt of his blade as he walked in step with the group.
"For once we agree on something." Greywulf murmured back, trying not to shiver.
"Are you certain the elf is not under a Domination spell? This is a fool's errand." the Deathbringer snarled.
Behind them, Aerie walked with Jaheira on one side, Minsc on the other- though Minsc was decidedly more comforting. Jaheira had done nothing but give a cold glare to her since they'd entered the darkness- it was like they were back in the first days of her traveling with the group. She knew Jaheira was just on edge about their surroundings, and rightfully so- but still, she couldn't help but feel a bit defiant. It would all turn out for the best- mostly. Maybe.
"Minsc is glad you are safe." the ranger whispered softly, one big hand taking Aerie's in his. He squeezed gently, looking down at her with a tender smile. "Boo and I were worried about you."
"Thank you Minsc." Aerie whispered back. "I'm glad you're with me too. Though I don't t-think the others are pleased with what I've done."
Minsc shrugged, looking over at Jaheira, who had turned her look of displeasure to a simple wary guard, constantly watching for a sudden strike from the undead that surrounded them on all sides, led by the Count as he lit their path with torches, coming to what looked from a distance like the main recreation area of the jails. It was a large pit with balconies and a walkway overlooking it- it had been turned to a twisted bedchamber, lined on all sides with coffins and bins of blood for feasting. Dried corpses littered the area, long drained of any blood or life. The acrid smell of blood was thick in the air- Aerie tried not gag as she entered in. "The more I think about it, the more I think they might be right, too..."
Count Santele descended the stairs to the center of the pit, where he stopped, placing the torch he had held on a stand on of the center pillars supporting the structure, then turned to face his 'guests.' He did not speak for a moment, as thought taking the measure of each and every one of them. Finally he spoke, his voice echoing around them in the dusty halls. "I shall speak plain, as I think it would be best if we- all of us- understand the situation."
"I agree." Greywulf swallowed, looking around at the silent shadows flitting back and forth in the balconies above. "Though it seems to me like your pals upstairs have a pretty good idea of what the situation is. Frankly, I'm not sure I like the looks of it."
The Count smiled, then glared up at the balconies and catwalks, hissing loudly. The omnipresent creatures ceased their lurking, slowly moving from the room as silent and quick as they had followed. When he was satisfied that the rest of the vampires had left, the Count looked back down at the six companions and raised in hands in what might've been the wry exasperation of a mother disciplining her unruly children. "They are... hungry. Since the siege began, we have had fewer and fewer people roaming the streets at night. We were forced to resort to the courtesan strategy that you so keenly found us out through... you cannot blame them, after all."
"When I'm on the menu? Like hell I won't blame them." Greywulf retorted, wrapping his cloak around him in an attempt to cut the chill of the musty jail cells. "Sorry if I seem rude, it's just that I can't decide if I you're being genuine and we can relax or if this is all one giant trick and I should just stake you now. You can't blame us, after all."
Santele smirked, conceding the repartee. "I admit, half of me would like nothing more than to descend upon you with the rest of my coven. It has been some time since we had so many warm bodies at once. But the other half- a half long since forgotten by the vampires who have been down here years longer than I, understands when two sides can be... mutually beneficial. Hence, the deal that your elven beauty made with me. I'm sure you'll agree that it is in the best interests of everyone here."
"We wouldn't know." Jaheira said, her spear in one hand with the shaft planted on the ground, leaning forward just enough to be able to drop it into a charge if need be. "You told us nothing of this plan or this bargain before we entered, and would only agree to release Aerie if we accompanied you. For all we know, you have put Aerie under a spell."
At another time Greywulf would have given a wry thought to the coincidence of Jaheira and Sarevok sharing the same question about Aerie's complicity in all this, but he got the distinct sense that now was not the time. Count Santele looked at Aerie with a smile, then shook his head with nonchalance. "No... this bargain came as much of a surprise to me as it did you, I suspect. But to understand, perhaps I should explain what Aerie guessed on her own."
He turned his back to them, walking across the room to one of the stairways leading up to the walkways overlooking the pit. He began ascending, speaking while he moved. "You have probably heard of my exile from the city at Gromnir's hands? Of course you have- you spoke with Farielle, did you not?"
It was not difficult to hear the rising venom in his tone as he spoke of Gromnir, nor the softening when Farielle's name was brought up. "Gromnir would have killed me, the wretched half-orc, had I stayed in the castle to confront him as his armies took control of the city. I chose to flee into the jails, trusting that his soldiers would either fall to the undead that we had long since sealed inside, or that they would simply not follow."
"And along with safety from Gromnir, you found some new friends." Imoen noted. "Didn't think this one through all the way, didja?"
"Foolish girl." Santele shook his head with a sneer. "Of course I understood my fate! And I knew that the only way I could ever rid my city of that barbarian was with power- more power than I had wielded as a mortal. Power that I have gathered and amassed, growing ever stronger here, right beneath the fool."
"Then I have to ask what's keeping you from moving?" Greywulf frowned, gesturing with a thumb back from where they had come as the Count finally reached the top of the stairs, moving to the center of the catwalk where he could overlook them all, a makeshift throne having been built there. "You've got more vampires than I've ever seen in one place. You also have the key to the doors- from where I'm standing, it seems like you could have taken your revenge, and your city, months ago."
"The siege." Sarevok said with understanding."You suffer the same problem as we do- you cannot assault the front doors because of the force Gromnir has placed there and the guards posted all along the wall."
"What about the door leading into the castle from in here?" Imoen asked. "It's why we came here, after all. Betcha Gromnir's not expecting an assault from inside the castle..."
"As you say... but Gromnir, the mongrel that he is, is still no fool." Santele growled, the facade of aristocratic taste and culture receding slightly to show the beast within as his features darkened. "Wards, placed specifically against the undead, have been put in place around the path leading into the castle. There are four statues that have been enchanted to ward against the undead, placed in the room leading from the jails to the castle underbelly. We cannot enter so long as those are in place."
"But we can, and then we can bring Gromnir to well deserved justice!" Minsc nodded his head enthusiastically. "Minsc likes this plan."
"We go in, bring down the pillars- and then we all bring down Gromnir." Greywulf reasoned, finally seeing the full train of logic that had led to this unlikeliest of alliances. "And here's where I start to wonder- we're doing this so that Saradush might have a shot at surviving the siege outside. Aside from revenge, what are you doing this for?"
Aerie's features fell with either shame or embarrassment, perhaps both- and Greywulf had a sudden feeling that he wasn't going to like what he was about to hear. Count Santele smiled and shrugged his shoulders with nonchalance, leaning over the balcony as he stared them down. "Nothing more than what was stolen from me in the first place. To be its defender in the midst of this siege, and assuming we survive..."
"You want to be ruler of Saradush again." Jaheira breathed, turning to look at Aerie with shock and disbelief. "This... this is the deal you made? You promised a vampire the rule of this city in return for aid? Child, what have you done...?"
"A small price, if you really think about it." Santele offered with a confident smile. "Surely a city ruled by one such as I is better than a city razed to the ground?"
Greywulf did not speak- all he could think of was the deals he'd made in the past that had gone awry. Deals with the Shadow Thieves. Deals with Saemon Havarian. Deals with men he'd called friends and allies, only to end up at one another's throats at the end of the day. And now, here... another deal with the devil. Except this time, it wasn't just him, it was an entire town he was putting on the line. Ruled by a vampire, or annihilated by a fire giant and his armies. No Plan C. Greywulf swallowed hard, and prayed to the gods for forgiveness. "All right, you've got yourself a deal. Now where's the castle entrance?"
X X X X X X
The clatter of plates and silverware filled the room as those guards which had been lucky enough to pull this particular duty sat down for the evening meal. Everyone took a shift at this position, but it was definitely considered the posh duty, the one that was little more than a walk in the park. Guarding a simple metal door that was locked from the inside- the key either lost inside the prison below, or in the possession of some undead monstrosity. If that was the case, the four warding statues placed in all corners of the room, robed, praying monks pleading to the heavens that glowed purple in the low lights, would keep their foes at bay. Either way, there was little to do in this place but eat, nap, chit-chat, and wait for the changing of the shift. At least here, there was no danger of getting struck by a fire-giant's bow or dissolved by some spell.
Two guards sat across from each other at the table, their food quickly eaten as they turned their attention to more entertaining pursuits, throwing dice and playing cards. Another two were obviously asleep, light snores coming from their mouths as they sat against the cold stone walls, their spears having rolled from their limp palms the moment they lost consciousness. Behind the door, out of sight of these four relaxed men, a key slid into the lock, slowly turning and releasing the latches...
The sound of the lock 'snick' was quiet, but just enough to make one of the guards about to throw his dice give a sideways glance at the metal portal. His opposite frowned, gesturing for him to hurry up. "Oy! What's the big idea! Hurry up an' make yer move already."
"Thought I 'erd somethin."
"Bah! Naught but zombies and skeletons down there. Them statues keep 'em at bay, so quit yer worrying and get to rollin, aye?"
He nodded, raising a hand to throw the dice- the door flew open and out of the darkness leapt three fireballs, one from each wizard hidden in the darkness. The entire room erupted in flame, the concussion knocking both dice players from the table and across the room, the sound of their screams as fire roasted them inside their armor echoing into the jails. The two sleepers had, of course, been woken by the sudden onrush of heat and fire, but by the time they could get to their feet, a blade from Sarevok and a blade from Minsc had impaled both men.
In the crackling, burning room now stood five of the six adventurers- and in each corner of the room, as promised, were the warding statues. They had survived the fireball onslaught, and now it came to it. Greywulf glanced behind him, knowing that the Count Santele was watching from the shadows of the open door. Not only that, but Aerie was with him- the Count was no fool, and had kept one of their number back inside if Greywulf reconsidered his part of the bargain. There was really no choice in the matter. He nodded imperceptibly, and with four downswings, the statues crumbled, and from the darkness leapt the shadows and evil so long contained.
Aerie stepped out alongside Count Santele, the Count smiling broadly with pleasure as he let go of Aerie's arm, releasing her to her friends. "You have done well, my improbable allies. My kin will empty this castle of Gromnir's men. But you and I... we have the pleasure of ending that miserable creature's life ourselves. I know the fastest way to reach the Throne Room. Follow, and I shall lead."
They nodded silently, following the Count Santele as he walked without hurry, slow and steady even as the sounds of screaming began echoing from the floors and rooms above. They passed numerous clashes between soldier and vampire, gory bloodbaths where men and women had been taken unawares, and were limp on the ground with the Nosferatu feeding their hunger one, two, three at a time. Aerie watched the grisly sight, then turned away, unable to continue watching. She did not meet the sideways looks of the others- it was only Sarevok who spoke to her, a distinct sneer on his face. "You knew what your bargain would mean for these. You should be proud... were it not for them, it might be us who met our deaths here."
Proud... of what she had seen moments ago? He was mocking her... Aerie snarled, eyes narrowing at Sarevok as he regarded with her amusement. "You disgust me, Sarevok."
He laughed, then turned his eyes back to the Count, now leading them up a circular stairwell- two guards rushed downward, their eyes widening at the train of warriors ascending. One lunged at the Count- he hissed and grabbed the blade itself, shoving it to the side and throwing the wielder off with it. The sound of his screams as he fell were cut off by the distinct cracking of bones when he landed, and the other guard took a split-second to realize he wanted no part of the same fate- he attempted to turn and run back, but the Count's vampire reflexes were far too quick. A claw grabbed his shoulder and spun him around so that another claw could rip his throat out in one swift stroke. He collapsed to the ground, the Count pausing only to kneel and pick up the man's sword, before stepping over him on the way to the final ascension.
They reached the top, a foyer that led into the Throne Room but, a quick glance inside raised Greywulf's attention as he grabbed the Count and held him back. "Wait! Hold for a moment..."
Santele did not take kindly to being manhandled- but he did pause a moment and glance inside, eyes narrowing at the sight. "Her?! The one who brought Gromnir upon this town? I should feast on her as well..."
"Your guards threatened me with arrest if I did not accompany them," protested Mellissan, held on either arm by a burly guard as she stood before Gromnir's throne. "I do not take kindly to threats, Gromnir! What is it you want? Can you not hear that the siege as reached this very castle?!"
"Gromnir knows a stranger came to Saradush, pretty Mellissan." the massive half-orc scowled, his fangs bared as he gestured toward the door where, unbeknownst to him, those he sought were waiting. "Another Bhaalspawn! You must think Gromnir too stupid not to remember there is no way in or out of the city, mmm?"
"You fool, Gromnir! That 'stranger' may be our only hope of escaping this siege alive!" Mellissan shouted, still struggling against her captors.
"She's not part of the deal, Santele." Greywulf said firmly, keeping the Count's gaze as they listened. "You've already got the city, and Gromnir too- don't push your luck."
"Bah! Gromnir knows the truth! We is no idiot! Mellissan has brought this outsider in to kill Gromnir! Bhaalspawn means nothing! Yaga-Shura is Bhaalspawn - he wants Gromnir's head, too!" Gromnir bellowed a laugh, his eyes bulging with rage as he stepped down the few stairs to the throne to stand up against Mellissan, towering over her. "Foolish Mellissan is plotting against Gromnir. Mellissan is plotting the ruin of all the Children of Bhaal!"
"You are mad, Gromnir." Mellissan said with incredulousness. "Have I not always aided you and all the other Bhaalspawn? I brought you here to protect you - it was your paranoia that brought Yaga-Shura upon us!"
"Mad? Paranoid?" The half-orc laughed again, nodding his head as he drew the giant axe he carried upon his heavily armored back. "No! Gromnir finally understands how Mellissan lied! Mellissan lured Gromnir into a deathtrap! Tell Gromnir where the Bhaalspawn assassin is hiding, or Gromnir will have your head!!"
"Hiding? The stranger is not hiding, Gromnir! If you were not holed up in this castle, you two could have had a meeting when the stranger first arrived!" Mellissan screamed, spitting in Gromnir's face. "Go ahead and kill me if you dare!"
They'd waited too long- Greywulf turned to Imoen, ready to bark an order, but she was two steps ahead. Bow drawn and an arrow of lightning nocked, she took a split-second more to aim, then released. The arrow flew straight and true, striking Gromnir's arm though the plate mail held firm, and it ricocheted off, leaving only a brief spasm of arcing electricity over the gauntlets he wore. Gromnir whirled to face the sudden attack, throwing Mellissan to the ground as he hefted his axe in response to the intruders. His eyes bulged in fury, his mouth frothing at the sight of his enemy. "So the assassin is here! Ha ha! Greywulf has come to kill Gromnir, eh? HAH!! Good fun!"
"And would you forget me easily?" Count Santele spat, raising his sword as he howled an unearthly cry. "My brethren slaughter your men below, and I shall feast upon your blood tonight!" With that, Santele hurled himself at Gromnir, the two colliding in a mix of claws and swords, even as the rest of Gromnir's guards turned their attention to them, spells and swords coming to the ready.
"Minsc, get Mellissan to safety. Everyone else..." there was no point to finishing the sentence. Another lightning arrow thudded in the tower shield one of the guards was carrying, and an incoming fireball was caught and with a good deal of effort, dissipated by a shield Greywulf conjured to protect his comrades.
Gromnir threw up his axe, Santele's sword ricocheting off its edge. The Count whirled towards him like a dervish, his sword landing glancing blows and blocking counterattacks, but never finding that chink in the armor he so sought. Gromnir's own battle cries echoed loudly as the two battle-mages flanking both sides of the throne began spells anew, two more guards charging the line with swords and shields. Sarevok smiled tightly as he moved to meet the first of the guards, his own war cry noticeably slowing the opposition's charge. Minsc moved up against the second sword wielding foe, placing himself between that man and Mellissan, still on the ground, trying to push herself away from the fray as best she could. Jaheira stayed by Greywulf's side to protect against any enemy that broke through Minsc and Sarevok's charge.
Count Santele swung left, then right, finally feinting to drive a thrust straight for Gromnir's neck- the half-orc snarled as he sidestepped, using the opportunity to let Santele stumble past, then grab him by the back and throw him into the wall. He charged before the Count could recover, raging hard as he brought his axe into the vampire's body again and again, hewing chunks of flesh and gore from the undead creature's body. Still Santele refused to fall- Gromnir spat in the bloodied vampire's face and picked him up with both hands, hurling him upwards towards the window overlooking the Throne, his tremendous strength sending the vampire flying. With the shattering of glass, the Count disappeared from sight, and Gromnir turned back to face the others, swinging his axe upwards to deflect a bolt of lightning erupting from Greywulf's hands.
He bellowed a challenge and hefted his bloody axe, then charged towards the sorcerer, though his path took him close by Sarevok, driving hard against the man he fought. His axe swung out left, catching Sarevok by surprise, cutting through the Red Dragon Scale to slice into his shoulder. The Deathbringer grunted in pain as he fell back, abruptly put on the defensive against his enemy. Imoen had pulled her spell craft from the mage across the room to hit Gromnir instead, slowing his charge with a Skull Trap. It exploded on his chest, but he shrugged it off and kept coming, Jaheira having to move to intercept. She blocked his axe swing, allowing Greywulf to dodge to the side and send a barrage of Magic Missiles to explode across Gromnir's back. The attack left armor plates peeling and burnt, but the enraged half-orc would not be denied; he turned and swung out at Greywulf, narrowly missing. The mage ducked a follow-up attack as he circled the half-orc, Jaheira flanking him on the other side.
Aerie did her best to engage both mages across the room, sequencing her spells so that both were drawn to attack her while her defenses were up. She winced as another hail of flame arrows struck her Spell Trap, the blue shielding wavering under the barrage. She opened a small hole in its protection and aimed a Melf's Acid Arrow Spell, choosing to strengthen her defenses rather than launch a full attack. It proved wise as a Spell Thrust aimed at her knocked out her Spell Shield, rather than her primary protections. She quickly began summoning another Spell Shield, trusting that one of her fellow party members would come to her aid soon. Trembling under another barrage of Magic Missiles, she whispered a prayer to Baervan.
Minsc was matched quite evenly against the swordsman he faced, unable to get past his defenses though no attack had struck true against him. He sidestepped a lunge, swinging down to trap his opponent's sword underneath it. The man's shield batted out, catching Minsc just under his chin, the neck blow sending him stumbling away, trying to recover. He could hear a scream from Mellissan behind him as they drew closer to the defenseless woman- the sword he had trapped slid free, cutting down towards his hand, an attempt at disarming him… literally. He twisted abruptly, letting the blow glance off his gauntlet instead, though it left a nasty sting on his wrist where the blow would have landed. His hand twitched, dropping the Vorpal Sword from his grasp, Minsc unable to back away for fear of exposing Mellissan to harm. Instead, he went immediately for the two axes strapped to his back. Frostreaver and Stonefire coming to his hands in a blur of blue and red.
Sarevok gritted his teeth as his sword locked with his opponents', their strength pushing against each other in midair. The magic and power of the Sword of Chaos gave him an advantage- his opponent refused to fight a losing battle and swung his metal shield at him, Sarevok forced to either disengage and allow a counter-attack or take the blow on his side. He shifted his body and weight to let the blow land on his pauldron rather his side and arm, then forced his full weight down again, slamming his opponent's sword onto his own shield. With both of his arms trapped, Sarevok abruptly released one hand from his sword and grabbed the man's throat, squeezing tightly. The man had not expected it and could not get his sword or shield out from under Sarevok's powerful blade fast enough to free himself. His throat quickly buckled under the Deathbringer's iron grip, and it was not until the sound of popping bones had echoed around them before he let go. As the man slumped to the ground, he turned around, watching Aerie continue to strive against the two mages she fought. Hefting his sword, trying to ignore the continual pain he felt from the wound Gromnir had dealt him, Sarevok charged forward, silent and quick as he bore down on the unwary mages. The closest mage looked up at the last second, his eyes widened as he saw Sarevok's sword plunge into his own chest, Sarevok lifting the man up on his blade with a shout of feral rage. The man screamed as his life bled away, the other mage horrified and driven back by the grisly sight, Sarevok's gaze already falling on him. As soon as he took his eyes off Aerie, she acted. Her protections dropped to cast a Power Word, stopping the man in his tracks with stunning magic.
He could do nothing but watch in terror as Sarevok shunted the impaled man off his sword and stalked over to him, rearing back with his blade…
The man's head rolled down the stairs of the throne toward Aerie, the elf giving a brief nod of gratitude to Sarevok as he approached, already looking to the last two opponents. Jaheira and Greywulf were still circling Gromnir, staggering their attacks between both magic and spear, trying to catch the general off guard. Gromnir was powerful though, and the spells cast at him were repelled by his armor despite Greywulf's best efforts. He whirled with his axe, Jaheira moving to dodge, as Greywulf moved up to attack… his eyes widened as he saw Gromnir's attack not slowing, but continuing in a giant circle, moving too fast at him even as he tried to halt his forward motion. The axe caught him across the stomach, slicing a deep cut across his torso. Gromnir's face contorted in a nasty grin as Greywulf fell backward, red rapidly staining across the front of his robes. He hit the ground with a thud, the staff he held rolling from his grasp.
"Greywulf!!" Jaheira shouted, rushing Gromnir in a fury born of rage and panic, attacking without thought. Both emotions made for a foolhardy attack, and with a quick sidestep Gromnir swung his axe across Jaheira as she blurred past him, getting her across the back. She cried out as she fell, tumbling alongside Greywulf, barely holding onto her weapon.
"Hah!! Gromnir strongest - Kill assassins!! Good fun!"
He raised his axe high, grinning down at the two incapacitated at his feet… Aerie and Imoen both rushed to him, Imoen striking savagely with her short sword, Aerie smashing him with the Flail of Ages. Aerie's attack came from the left, Imoen's from the right, both recognizing that the armor he wore made their magics far too weak to stop him from killing at least one of the two downed there. Gromnir grunted in pain as a trickle of acid began eating into his armor from the Flail's head, swinging a massive arm towards Aerie, while his axe hand swung towards Imoen. Imoen was quick enough to dodge the attack aimed at her; Aerie was a second too slow. The blow sent her stumbling backward, caught at the last second by Sarevok, pushing her back to her feet as he moved up, though Gromnir had already seen him. The half-orc spat at Sarevok, a black gooey mass that landed at his feet. Sarevok stepped past Greywulf's body, over Jaheira, paused for a brief second… then attacked. Three massive strikes landed, each from a different angle, forcing Gromnir to block all of them, moving his axe at impossible speeds to keep from getting hit. Still, he was forced back with each deflection, giving Sarevok what he had wanted; Aerie now had more than enough room to kneel beside Greywulf and Jaheira without danger to herself, hurriedly trying to heal them with her magics.
While Sarevok dueled Gromnir, Minsc was still busy fighting the other swordsman, their skill levels nearly equal with their energy levels nearly empty. Deep cuts ran along the shield that the enemy bore, courtesy of the axes Minsc bore. Minsc had suffered a few cuts across the hand and legs, but nothing debilitating. Still, neither of them were at the energy necessary to finish each other, borne to exhaustion by the length of their duel… still, Minsc had one thing the other man did not. A blast of flame nearly consumed him, but his shield came up in time, blocking the jet of fire emanating from Imoen's hands. His ally had given him the time he needed; the ranger let go, releasing all the fury he felt inside and his body flooded with energy while the world went hazy, a berserker rage overtaking him. One axe blasted against his opponent's sword, the other moving to slice off his shield hand. As the hand holding the shield dropped to the ground, the man screaming in pain, Imoen's spell had nothing to hold it back, and her Aganazzar's Scorcher hit its intended target to end the fight.
Even as the man's final screams died away, Sarevok kept pushing at Gromnir, each of his attacks falling just short of striking true. Gromnir seemed to be stymied, unable to find the position to counterattack… Sarevok's blade came down again, bouncing off the high block and around in a wide sweep to the side, meant to cut Gromnir in two. Gromnir dodged instead of blocking, and the attack had enough force in it to leave Sarevok exposed for a half-second. That time was all Gromnir needed to attack, hammering at Sarevok with a blitz of axe swipes, quickly pushing him back towards Aerie. Sarevok did his best to regain the edge, but his power was faltering under such massive strength from the half-orc. Just as his foot stepped beside Aerie's kneeling form, gradually slowing the profuse bleeding along Jaheira's back, Gromnir stiffened with a howl of pain. Minsc had come from behind and with the last bits of energy provided before his berserker rage wore off and drained him completely, he had swung both axes in a two handed blow, wedging both deep into his back.
Minsc stumbled backward, his eyes rolling up in his head as he lapsed into unconsciousness, completely drained of all energy. Still, both axes remained in Gromnir's back as Imoen moved to take Minsc's place in attacking. Sarevok had resumed control of the battle, Gromnir unable to fight as Sarevok's sword cut through his armor once, twice, three times. A wave of magic pushed its way through his shredded armor, Imoen's spell throwing the half-orc across the room. He slammed into a wall, the axes lodged in his back punched further up in him. Gromnir's scream cut off, even as his eyes opened wide, then glazed over as he slid down the wall, collapsing with blood smeared on the wall behind him all the way down to his back.
Sarevok took a few steps backward, studying the body of the dead general as he tried to catch his breath, holding the shoulder that was injured. The body of Gromnir glowed briefly, then befell the same fate as Illasera, dissolving in a burst of golden light and sparks as the taint erupted from Gromnir's body. "And so the pool is thinned." Sarevok grunted. "One less Bhaalspawn to fight for the Throne."
As if responding to his words, the taint spun through the room, before swarming towards Greywulf and Imoen. The golden lights disappeared into their bodies, and Aerie recoiled as Greywulf sat up, his eyes glowing bright yellow, screams echoing from him and Imoen in tandem, the god-essence forcing its way into the two of them. Imoen managed to crane her head to look over at Greywulf, her pink hair in a whirlwind around her as she managed to speak, her voice echoing with godly power. "Greywulf... do something!!"
Lightning blazed from the half-elf's mouth and eyes as Aerie backed away, pulling Jaheira with her in fear- the sorcerer looked up in fury as pillars of light surrounded everyone left alive within the room, whisking them from Saradush and the plane of reality itself.