The night sky was a relief to those below, content to be burdened with the heat from below- no need for the sun to torment them with its unyielding rays as well. The moon might have been full- or perhaps it was a sliver of its glory. It could truly not be told- there was far too much ash and smoke in the sky to deliver any kind of view towards the stars above. Breathing was like inhaling a soup, an unrelenting fog that choked them even as they pressed further and further- six men and women, blinking sweat from their eyes as their tired bodies scaled the final inches of the mountain to cross the summit- there. A beacon in the dark, there stood a temple nearly twelve men high, built into the very mountains themselves.
Greywulf wiped the grime from his face and squinted into the night, his vision made clearer by the braziers lit and filled with coal, ever burning, ever crackling as smoke rose from them to join the fog all above and around. The faint illumination would have been meager if not for the torches that lined the walls of the temple, spaced every twenty feet and mounted directly to the walls themselves until they reached the cliff face. In the glimmering firelight, shadows were thrown upon the walls, vast and massive to match those who cast them. Two fire giants, armored in heavy plate mail and holding axes that were easily the size of Minsc, stood guard with the stoic features of those assured of the sanctity of their home- after all, who would be stupid enough to assault the very temple of their lord and their god, the Bhaalspawn Yaga-Shura?
A false god, he... and as for who was stupid enough, nobody had ever accused him of being the brightest torch, Greywulf smiled wryly as he slid back down below the crest of the mountain they'd scaled to reach this vantage point. The others followed suit, watching him as he exhaled, letting his thoughts settle. He began to reach for his waterskin, then grimaced, realizing that they'd exhausted the last of their supplies during the climb. At this point they were out of water and food, and options were somewhat limited. Water cantrips were notoriously unsatisfying when it came to drinking, not to mention the difficulty in gathering or swallowing water that appeared in mid-air. Transporting back to the Pocket Plane for a bit of quick rest was an appealing thought, but from eye-witness accounts, the act of transportation was a rather... showy one, and they were too close to the temple to risk being seen and their element of surprise stripped away.
Greywulf pushed away thoughts of refreshment and focused on the task at hand- which was not surprisingly just as unappealing as thinking about the water that didn't exist in his pack. Had to think though- the others were waiting on him to- Imoen's advice from their last talk echoed in his mind, and he felt a weight in his chest relieve itself as the pieces fell into place... for him, anyway. "I think I've got an idea... maybe."
"Then speak up, for Minsc desires to test his mettle against the ones who are even bigger than he! And that is saying something, let me tell you..." Minsc began eagerly, before being nudged by Aerie.
"We need this... heart, it seems. But if we try to storm the temple, we'll probably be overwhelmed. We have the advantage of surprise right now, and I think we should make full use of it." Greywulf mused. "We split into three teams. Imoen and I are the infiltration team- we go into the temple itself and try to find Yaga-Shura's heart. If everything goes as planned, they never know we were there."
The half-elf noticed Minsc's crestfallen features- he smiled and gestured towards Minsc. "Not to worry, big guy. You and Sarevok are team number two."
"Is that so. I can hardly contain my joy at being paired with the ranger." Sarevok growled, his eyes shimmering like two yellow suns in the dark. "And if the two of you are to retrieve the heart, what meaningless task would you have us perform?"
"What else?" Greywulf smirked. "Do what you two do best. Kill as many fire giants as you can."
The smiles that flashed across both Minsc and Sarevok's faces were those of men who knew their talents and how to put them to good use, and Greywulf felt a brief flash of pity for those that would be facing the Rashemani and the Deathbringer. Jaheira nodded slowly, listening to the plot as she crouched, glancing around every now and again to make sure their hiding spot and not been discovered by scouts. "Draw the giants out of the temple to give you and Imoen a better chance at remaining undetected. A wise move. And what of Aerie and I?"
"Leave Imoen and me to our task, for one thing." Greywulf shrugged. "Nobody else goes in except the two of us- any more and they'll realize what we're really up to. As for the other particulars- I'm leaving it up to you."
Aerie's brow knit in confusion for a moment, but Jaheira snorted and shrugged, pulling for Aerie to go with her. "As you will. Come, child. We have some planning to do."
"Wait for us to get inside before you start whatever ruckus y'think'll work best, okay?" Imoen asked the two warriors. "They'll never know we were there."
"No. No, they won't." Sarevok smiled grimly, feeling the comforting grip of the Sword of Chaos at his hip.
X X X X X X
Waking up after forcibly being made unconscious was something of a strange feeling. He had experienced it before- usually in battle, when an orc or a troll got behind him and landed a blow to his head. It was an entirely different feeling from passing out due to intoxication- that was fairly standard- wake up groggy with a headache- nothing that a bit of water and some time couldn't heal. Something like this though- entirely different. This was like all his senses had vanished, and they were slowly coming back. And when they came back, it was as painfully as possible. Anomen Delryn, squire of the Order, tried to grimace, knowing what was to come- and couldn't. Hnh. Perhaps movement would be later.
Out of reflex, he tried to swallow, lick his dried lips- ah. He could do that at least, and his throat burned as he did. There... that was the pain he had been waiting for. He would have laughed if he could have. Opening his eyes would be a great next step- no, apparently not. The moment his eyelids parted, the light around him burned too brightly for him to maintain it and he closed them again, allowing himself to simply breathe in and out as he lay there, wherever he was. Speaking of which, where was he?
The last thing he could remember was fighting... but who? Solaufein shouting curses in his native tongue- another warrior- Reynald, that was it. Pushing forward with his shield as he tried to press on against some kind of spellcaster- like Solaufein? Yes, that was it. Drow had ambushed them. Driders, Solaufein had called them. Monstrous creatures twisted and tainted by the Spider Queen herself. That he was able to awaken at all was sign that his companions had survived the battle after he had been disabled. A lance of pain shot through his body- he cringed, taking small comfort that feeling was returning to his body.
His sense of smell was coming back as well- roses? Was that what he smelled? Flowers of some kind- and smoke. Smoke and oil. Probably from torches. His hearing was beginning to return, even if everything sounded far too loud, like people were shouting in his ear. Voices- familiar voices, going back and forth in some kind of argument?
"-don't know what you're doing. You don't know her."
"-perhaps you- either. Why do you treat- like this? She has done nothing to harm us."
"I do not know what you are speaking about, but if you do not lower your voices I shall do something to harm you both." Anomen forced out, half moaning, half coughing.
Reynald de Chatillon and Solaufein both stopped their argument, turning to their prone friend as he struggled to sit up from the bed on which he had been lying since their arrival at De'Arnise Keep. "By Helm, it is good to see you awake once more." Reynald declared, lending a hand to his back. "We were worried for a time that you would never awake from the darkness that had consumed you in our battle."
"Parts of me are yet numb. What struck me down?" Anomen blinked once, twice, trying to get stop the dancing lights and spots from flickering through his vision.
"A drow priestess cast you down with an Unholy Blight." Solaufein stated calmly, leaning against the stonewall of the castle, arms folded as his white hair gleamed in the torchlight. "To be fair, it was little more than luck that yours was the kindest of injuries we suffered. To escape the snare of a heretic hunting party, driders and priestesses both- Lady Silverhair was watching over us, of that there is no doubt."
"Then I should offer my thanks once again, for saving my life in such a perilous situation."Anomen managed a smile, wincing briefly as he craned his neck to look around the carpeted room, the walls covered by tapestries and book shelves. "Though perhaps I should ask where you have brought me. There is something vaguely familiar, I think-"
"Sir Anomen! Your companions did not send word that you had awoken!"
The voice was unmistakable, and the cleric-warrior smiled broadly with a laugh as Nalia De'Arnise strode across the room to lower herself and embrace him as he sat up in the bed- she released him gently, reclaiming her more reserved, noble exterior after such a show of unbridled emotion. "I had worried for a time that my clerics here at the Temple Chantry would not be sufficient to heal your wounds, but it appears my fears were unfounded."
"I suppose there is no mistaking where my friends brought me in my hour of need." Anomen glanced towards Solaufein and Reynald, nodding to both with gratitude before returning his gaze to Nalia. "I find myself in your debt, m'lady. It is... good to see you again."
Reynald watched the two of them, then coughed lightly, bowing lightly to Nalia as her attention was drawn, then motioning Solaufein towards the exit. "Perhaps the two of us should depart and let the two of you catch up. Surely it has been some time since you have had the chance to catch up, old friends such as you are. We shall await your convenience before returning. There is much to do for our journey's preparations."
The noblewoman and the cleric shrugged with acceptance as the other pair left, closing the heavy wooden door and moving further out before resuming their conversation, away from prying ears or accidental eavesdroppers. "It is good to see him up and about- he will be ready to make way before nightfall, I am sure." Solaufein said, grimacing as he noted Reynald's features, suggesting that he was not ready to give up on the subject or tone of their prior talk. "And you will not give up your foolish notion about Lady Nalia accompanying us, I see. I tell you now that it is a poor choice and not one we should make lightly."
"And I say you are being overly hostile to a woman who has yet to give us a reason for such unworthy suspicions. Her attitudes seem no worse than any other noble I have spoken or conversed with- better than many, in fact. She desires to aid her people well enough- she has chosen to do so from a position of strength."
"I do not doubt her motives, but I question her methods." Solaufein shook his head grimly. "You forget that I have history with her- I knew Nalia De'Arnise, and the woman I spoke with a year ago is not the same woman we spoke with the last morn. She has changed, and I cannot see that it is for the better."
"You would judge her based purely on a simple change in demeanor? Come now, I had not thought you so petty upon our first meeting." Reynald said in disbelief. "Your time spent in the Underdark has made you paranoid! Surely you cannot believe that she is like one of your drow plotters, treacherous and waiting to stab us in the back at first opportunity?"
The mention of Solaufein's home and former life made the drow's eyes narrow- he spoke without feeling or remorse. "And perhaps it is you whose thoughts are clouded. Was your banishment from the Order not due to your involvement with a lady of questionable morals and lifestyle? Will you let another pretty face and bat of the eyelashes pull you further into ruin?"
Reynald's face flushed and his hand went to his sword hilt out of reflex, before he loosened it, though the tightness in his features showed no sign of vanishing. "Were we not allies in this matter that Anomen has called us into, I would demand a blood duel from you for such an insult. As you have proven your worth in the past I shall let it slide, but I warn you- do not bring up such matters again."
The two men remained locked in a glare for several moments before De Chatillon exhaled loudly, turning away from the drow and flexing his arms against the leather tunic he wore over the thin chain mail beneath. "Such arguments among us are pointless. I have said my peace, as have you. I suspect neither of us will change our minds on this subject- perhaps it is only fitting that Anomen should have the final say in this matter."
"Should it come down to it." Solaufein nodded reluctantly. "She has not even agreed to join us on this venture. But I agree- Anomen has known her as long as I- longer, even. The choice should be his alone though- neither of us shall attempt to influence his decision in the matter. All he can know is that she was offered the chance to join us and that we shall support whatever his decision may be, should she accept. Agreed?"
"Agreed." Reynald nodded, coughing gently before mustering his nerve. "I... ah, I should apologize for the comments I made about your former life. It could not have been an easy place to live your life, the cavernous depths of the Underdark. My words were ill-thought out in the heat of the moment."
"I'm aware of that." Solaufein remarked mildly, before turning on his heel and stalking away, pausing only briefly to toss back over his head, "And to be clear- I hope I'm wrong about Nalia."
"You are." Reynald called back, watching him disappear around a corner, before turning to face the door that Nalia and Anomen spoke and chatted behind. He thought briefly of Celestine and her involvement in his downfall from the Order- Nalia had eyes just like her... Reynald cursed and spun away from the door, following the same path Solaufein had taken.
X X X X X X
A mission just like any other. That was the plan. Two Harper agents on a stakeout, one taking shifts sleeping while the other kept watch on the dock. Not that it was an easy job- the fog shrouding the docks was like an impenetrable veil, covering everything within and only the faintest of shapes could be made out in the darkened cold of the night. Still, this was the place. If the slave trades were to take place as planned, it would be here. Tonight. Once they had irrefutable evidence of the transactions- visual confirmation of the slavers and their captives, then and only then could they take action. Until that point, all they could do was wait. The Harper keeping watch stifled a yawn, then moved to awaken her partner- he stirred before her fingers had a chance to touch him. "Trouble sleeping?"
"S-something like that." Khalid smiled weakly as he pushed himself to a sitting position, still hid along with Jaheira behind a cleverly made blind composed of barrels, crates and ship components. None of them were actually real or had any use for anybody- therefore nobody would be inclined to take them or investigate what was behind them. Khalid sat up completely and glanced out into the foggy night air- still nothing. No sign of the slavers ship arriving or of any prisoners being moved under cover of night.
"If you had trouble sleeping, take some more time to rest." Jaheira offered, running a hand across Khalid's arm gently, glancing between the dock they were watching and her partner. Partner... and more. Her lover. Not just physically though. She had been intimate with few men before Khalid- those she had been with ended up little more than old memories, people she would much rather forget for various reasons. With Khalid, though... he loved her. Loved. She felt... safe, with him around. She knew he would do anything to protect her... he would do anything she asked of him. And yet, here they were, their first time alone in over a month, and what was it about? Some romantic dinner, or perhaps a simple time of relaxation amidst the woods, enjoying the bounty nature had to offer? No. They were sitting on a cold, foggy dock, watching for men who would gladly murder them if they knew that they were Harpers.
"Madness..." Jaheira murmured to herself, even as Khalid finally got to his watch position, placing one hand on his sword hilt as his half-elven eyes peered out into the night, much as she had done for the last hours. He glanced to meet her uncertain gaze, and smiled comfortingly. He didn't need to say anything- his words were stilted at times and his stutter was ever-present, but one look from him was enough and she knew... she'd spend the rest of her life with him, even if that life could end at any moment. It was a risk she was willing to take-
"Jaheira? Are you all right?"
Aerie's voice cut into her thoughts, and Jaheira blinked once, quickly regaining her thoughts, her whereabouts. What was she doing, daydreaming about the past at a time like this? She inhaled sharply, and fixed Aerie with the confident, semi-superior glare that she was so very infamous for. "Of course. Have Imoen and Greywulf moved yet?"
"No, they're still waiting on Minsc and Sarevok to make their diversion." Aerie bit her lip, that small gesture that told on her whenever she was uncertain. Jaheira normally might've left her to her own devices, let her worry about whatever was eating on her mind and offered advice should she ask. But in all fairness, Jaheira needed something to take the edge of her mind, something to keep her from pondering the tragedy of Khalid's death, of her worries, confirmed at Irenicus' hands- and how it was all repeating itself. Of how those very same thoughts and fears were rising up once again, only this time, she had more to worry about than simple death. If only it were that easy-
"Do we have a plan? I had an idea, but I figured you would already know what we were going to do and would tell me once the time was right..." Aerie offered, and Jaheira forced herself to concentrate. "You just seem... distracted, that's all."
"I am fine." she said brusquely, then gestured down towards the rocky plateau where Imoen and Greywulf had moved to, halfway down the hill, directly across from the Temple entrance, a great maw filled with darkness, like the mouth of an ancient beast. "Do you see? The two of them will need to have a clear path towards the doorway from that location- invisibility spells, perhaps Imoen's natural talent at hiding in the shadows- I do not know how exactly they intend to cross the divide. Still, there are two fire giants guarding the door, and another two patrolling in an outer perimeter. Minsc and Sarevok will surely draw the main two- and we will ensure that the outer watch does not take them unawares."
"And how do we do that without being seen? If we are to be fighting as Minsc and Sarevok do, shouldn't we be at their side so that we might protect each other?" Aerie pointed out, and Jaheira agreed silently, nodding her head. "That's... well, that's where my idea came into play."
"Really?" Jaheira smiled, motioning for her to continue. "Go on..."
Far below the druid and the cleric, Imoen and Greywulf crouched behind a few particularly large boulders on the steep cliffside, peering over at their target. The night was getting further on- soon the guards posted would be at their weakest, the furthest point in their shift. Or at least, that was what they assumed. None of them really quite knew how long those particular fire giants had been guarding the door, or whether the large humanoids slept in the same shifts and periods that humans did. Still, nobody had emerged to relieve them since they showed up, and it wasn't as if they had the time or the supplies to make a longer surveillance effort.
"They torches don't give too much light out there on the western side of the Temple, not with those boulders blocking the way." Imoen observed quietly. "I betcha we could get to those if we're quick. From there, we might be able to sneak past the guards by jumping from pillar to pillar- kinda like when we were back in the Underdark-"
Imoen paused for a moment, then shook her head, continuing on with little sign she had even broke sentence stride, but Greywulf knew what had caused it. The Underdark held bad memories for all of them- but for the two of them in particular. His betrayal of her trust, stealing away her memories inside the illithid city- it had created a rift between them that had never quite healed. It probably never would. Not the time to dwell on past mistakes though. He did enough of that as it stood- he nodded, gesturing for her to continue. "Right, right... I agree, though the fire giants would have to be pretty blind not to notice us actually getting from here to those boulders. Invisibility spell might do the trick, so long as they don't have any spell purge traps set up."
"I thought the same thing." Imoen mused, squinting in the night at the path they would have to travel. "It's too dark to be sure, but I don't *see* any trap giveaways... if I had ta guess, I think we're clear."
"It's a plan, then." Greywulf smiled, beginning to weave the magics that would cloak them from sight. "Now we just wait for the distraction. I'm rather curious to see how they're going to go about it..."
"What, Minsc and tall dark and evil?" Imoen snorted, just before she faded from view. "There are enemies. Kill them now. That should about sum it up..."
The two fire giants guarding the Temple entrance did their absolute best to remain at attention, alert, on guard. This was, after all, the mountain fortress of their chosen deity, or rather future deity. The home of Yaga-Shura himself, the Bhaalspawn fated to become the new Lord of Murder. He was their master, an invulnerable juggernaut of destruction that could not be harmed by sword or magic- he had demonstrated this fact on several occasions, going so far as to enter battle without armor to show how futile the attempts on his life would be. This was his sanctum sanctorum, the heart of his majesty. They were tasked with keeping it safe, a noble task and one which could never be taken lightly. An honor to even be chosen for such a great job of such import. It was just that, well... it was boring as hell.
The last time they had seen any kind of action was when four Bhaalspawn had accidentally stumbled onto their location- a were-rabbit, an xvart, a goblin, and a kobold. They had chased them all through the Marching Mountains, trying to track them down and send their meager taints back to the source for Yaga-Shura... but it had hardly been a challenge. And what fool would dare seek out the very heart of Yaga-Shura? It was folly to even consider assaulting the Temple. An idiotic gesture that no sane man would dare attempt. Perhaps that was why, as two men, large for their kind, walked calmly into the torchlight with blades drawn, that it took the two giants guarding the temple a moment to realize just what was going on.
"Minsc seeks the heart of Yaga-Shura!" the ranger bellowed, raising the Vorpal Sword high. "Let evil beware- justice has come, and it has worn its big boots today!!"
Sarevok sighed as the two giants shouted an alarm as they rushed forward, their axes hefted overhead to cleave them in two. "By the taint of Bhaal, let us simply kill them and be done with it. If I should have to listen to more of your insanity I shall go mad myself."
"Being mad is not such a bad way to be." Minsc offered, right before having to leap aside to avoid an axe separating his upper half from his lower. He spun and hewed downwards, slicing a massive gash into the fire giants' hairy arm, blood spewing from the wound. "Boo tells Minsc he is mad all the time, and to continue being so. Enemies are much more frightened when Minsc is in the throes of the mighty berserker rage, eh?"
The Deathbringer did not bother answering the statement, he was too busy swinging his blade upward to ring against the downward swipe of the mighty battle axe heading to bisect him. The two weapons rang in the night air as metal impacted metal, but the force of the blow was enough to nearly send the warrior to his knees. He felt them buckle for a moment, then roared with effort as he pushed upward, shoving the axe off and swiping forward to cut a notch out of the tree trunk legs that stood before him, the armor plating yielding to the enchanted edge of the Chaos Blade.
The fire giant that had just taken a hit from Sarevok stumbled back inadvertently, growling in anger at the wound inflicted upon him- he reached around to the horn dangling from his belt, raising it to his lips and blowing one long, drawn note. Had this not been anticipated in the first place, Sarevok might've cursed in frustration, knowing that reinforcements were moments away. as it stood, he was only slightly peeved when he charged the man, only to be sent hurtling backwards by an unexpected kick from the same leg he had just wounded. As he rubbed his head, pushing himself back to his feet while the ground shook with each step his opponent took, the giant charged him. As it passed the ranger, Minsc spun in place, catching the back of the charging giant's knee as he ran past the berserker ranger.
Minsc returned to guard with only a split-second to spare, and even then it was too little. The axe came with such force that Minsc was bowled over, knocked aside like a rag doll, bouncing over the ground as the Vorpal Sword clattered to a halt beside a pile of rubble. The fire giant he had injured while passing could no longer support himself with the abrupt cut to his tendons, and could do nothing but scream in horror as Sarevok brought the Sword of Chaos upward into the falling giant's path, impaling his head as blood showered the Deathbringer.
The earth rumbled as the giant bore down upon his opponent- Minsc unslung the twin axes he wielded just in time, crossing them to block the incoming swing, on one knee as he struggled to keep the monstrous humanoid at bay. A roar split the air- both Minsc and his opponent craned their heads to look, and the ranger's heart sunk- two more giants descending the hill they had snuck down from, outer perimeter scouts, the ones they had worked so hard to avoid. Sarevok was already pushing the dead weight off his sword, moving to engage them- but could he possibly stop both of them for long on his own?
As it turned out, he would not have to. The heavens themselves opened and lightning erupted from the skies, reigning down upon one of the giants, relentless in its striking. Atop the mountain, Minsc could make out a slender figure with hands raised as the clouds thundered overhead. Swarming over the hills were a dozen wolves, charging the giants with teeth and fangs bared, eager to rip them open- one giant swatted two away as they came near, the other smashing a third with his axe, fighting through the searing bolts of lightning that continually ravaged him- and then the rest of the horde hit, leaping and tearing with feral rage. Beside them came elementals of earth and air, shambling mounds and living tornadoes that swept into them as well, savaging the scouts that had responded to the guardsmen's call for aid.
The giant pushing Minsc down returned his attention to the one in his sights, at his mercy, intending to finish him before moving to these new threats. As numerous as they were, none of them were true matches for the power of the fire giants of Yaga-Shura- a sickly sound of flesh and meat tearing ripped through his hearing as an intrusion in his chest sent chills through his body. The giant looked down to see a fist composed of earth and rock and stone, covered in blood and gore, withdraw from his chest as he lost feeling and went to the ground, nearly atop Minsc if he had not moved out of the way in time.
The ranger leapt to his feet quickly shifting to join Sarevok's side, hacking down the feeble attempts at defense the last standing giant was making. It kicked, swung with the last ebbs of strength before Sarevok's blade found the femoral artery, and it could no longer sustain itself. It collapsed, five wolves still tearing and chewing flesh. "I think Jaheira and Aerie should decide their own strategy more often." Minsc commented, smiling as he looked up at the source of their cavalry.
"So long as Greywulf and Imoen made it in during the battle, nothing else matters." Sarevok growled, checking the hillside, looking for more signs of enemies- "They had better be inside by now."
"Why is that?" Minsc asked, before closing his mouth and raising his blade to guard position as he saw what Sarevok had seen. A dozen more fire giants emerging from the Temple, wielding an assortment of war hammers, axes, and two-handed blades the size of the men themselves. The ranger grinned broadly as Sarevok lowered his stance, preparing for the inevitable charge to come in seconds. "Ah. Well, as Minsc always says, the bigger they are... the HARDER I HIT!!!"
X X X X X X
Outside, the world rumbled with the sounds of battle and carnage, decimating the land beneath the feet of those who laid swords against each other. Outside, the forces of the deity-to be clashed with intruders from below, fought to protect the sanctuary of the giant Yaga-Shura. Outside, the giants of fire fought with unholy fervor, protecting their false god with all the muster of those who believed in whom they served; those opposing them fought with the same fervor, though their belief was in something far more noble, far more trustworthy. Outside- outside it was damned cooler than the sweltering innards of the rock edifice.
Imoen blinked sweat from her eyes, trying not to cough as she inhaled- or drank, almost- the air around. Fires were lit in braziers that lined every other step in the constant stairwell leading up into the top of the mountain, tunneling further and further inside. Getting inside the temple had been fairly simple once the distraction had begun- Imoen and Greywulf had been behind the rock boulders piled near the side of the temple within moments, an invisibility spell taking care of the moments when they were exposed. Once inside, they'd only needed to stand aside so that the fire giants moving to aid against their companions could pass, then continue forward.
It was an intriguing structure, if straight-forward. It was composed of several platforms with adjoining halls, each one filled with lit coal braziers. These platform were big enough to accommodate a full army, or at least, a dozen fire giants comfortably. Then another flight of stairs, each one as tall as Imoen herself, then another platform. With lit braziers. One each step. And one on each platform. Finding shadows was going to be... difficult. Having said that, those shadows that did exist were always flickering, always moving thanks to the numerous fire sources. A double-edged sword- one that would be tricky to wield, judging by just how many fire giants were guarding this place.
"Good thing we didn't try the frontal assault approach." Greywulf whispered, back flat against a wall inside one of the adjoining rooms while Imoen peered out into the main stairwell path, looking for signs of more guards approaching. Many had passed, heading for the battles outside- still, there were a few stragglers that kept watch at the top of each segment of stair. If not for them, they might well have an easy go of it. "How long do you think it'll take us to get up those stairs? We'll have to boost each other, then grab the one who stayed behind... this could be a problem."
"I don't think the giants are just gonna stand here and let us do it, neither." Imoen sighed, brown knit in concentration as she tried to figure out just how they were going to get around this new set of obstacles. "Gorion never taught you any flying spells, did he? 'Cause those would come in real handy right now."
"No such luck." Greywulf shook his head with a weak grin, then peered outside once more, glancing upward. The ceiling, hollowed out mountain rock, was not quite the smooth, slick rock face they had expected- it seemed that the Temple was built inside an existing cavernous chamber, and the ceiling had been left to its original rocky face. Long jagged stalactites still grew from above, filling the whole ceiling with death from above, should the Temple ever suffer a grievous earthquake. A possibility? No. The giants were big enough to deflect or shrug off many of the falling rocks, while Imoen and Greywulf would almost certainly be killed in the carnage.
"Hey... I got an idea." Imoen smiled, looking up along with Greywulf. "You thinking the same thing as me?"
"Earthquake? It'd never work. Besides, I've only practiced that spell once or twice, and I really don't want to wake up any pissed off earth elementals while we're trying to keep out of sight." Greywulf shook his head with regret. "Too risky right now."
"Close, but not quite. Don't worry, Greywulf. One day you'll be as smart as me." Imoen grinned, only chuckling further as her brother rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know. My head'll fall over pretty soon if it gets any bigger. Anyways, I'll need you to cause a little distraction, but I can get past all these stairs and the fire giants too."
"Fair enough. I assume you're looking at the ceiling- what are you-" Greywulf cut off mid sentence as he saw Imoen slip her hands into her pack, removing two gauntlets with clawed extensions jutting out from them. "You're crazy, you know that? For one, you're not nearly strong enough to stay up there for as long as you'd need to in order to get all the way to the end of the stairway. For two, how do you think you're getting up there?"
"Meh." Imoen shrugged, slipping the gauntlets on and tightening the straps as she flexed her fingertips. "One spell ought to do it. But since I can't really cast too well wearing these, you'll have to cast it, then cast whatever spell you think will work best for a distraction."
"Wait a sec-" Greywulf protested, knowing it would do him little good. Once Imoen got her mind fixed on a plan, as ridiculous as it may have sounded, there was no turning back. "What spell?"
"Strength, I think." Imoen frowned, digging through her mind. "Isn't that the one that strengthens everyone in a certain radius? Meh, I can never remember. Either way, I get the strength to hold on up there, and you get the strength to toss me."
He stared at her for a few moments while that thought sunk in. He winced, imagining just how many things could and probably would go wrong with this idea... he exhaled with exasperation, holding out his hands in surrender. "Okay, so I give us both the strength of Minsc, give or take a few men. I toss you... you catch on to the ceiling with those little toys of yours, and you go hand over hand above the fire giants' heads, thereby, avoiding not only the stairs, but the guards, and then... then what? We don't even know what else is at the top of those stairs. And how am I supposed to follow? And don't you think the giants are going to notice a flying girl hitting the ceiling?"
"Well sheesh, look who's mister negative all of a sudden." Imoen sniffed, taking mock offense. "Y'don't see me questioning yer crazy plans whenever you explain them. But if it'll make ya feel better, yer not supposed to follow me. We both know that it'll be easier for me to find this thing alone, and once I get it, you know this whole place is going to collapse around us or something like that. It's just how old temples and ruins work. You'll be waiting here so that you can surprise any pursuing giants, get 'em off balance while I get out, you right behind me. It's perfect! Oh, and that whole bit about them not seeing me? Didn't I mention you causing a distraction before? Pretty sure I did. Jus' get behind one of them braziers- they won't be able to see the spell flash from there, and then you can toss me when they're busy."
"That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. And before you ask, no I can't think of anything better." Greywulf scowled, nodding in weary acceptance. He looked out, judging the distance from them to the nearest cover behind one of the blazing fire pans, and where they'd have to be to avoid being spotted by the guards. "Why do I think I'm going to regret this?"
Two spell flashes and both of them were embodied with the power of ten men- Greywulf peeked over the top of the brazier, through the fire and flames- the guards were still, unmoving. They hadn't been noticed yet. Now, for a distraction- what to use? Even something as simple as a lightning bolt hitting the wall might do the trick, but it would almost certainly draw attention to the location of where said lightning bolt came from. Same with most projectile spells... summonings? The magical pods of energy would be a dead giveaway that someone was inside the temple that shouldn't be... once again, a poor end result. An idea came in a flash of insight- Greywulf smiled. He began the words to a spell, the power of a Dominate forming in his mind as he reached out through the ether to the mind of one of the two giants watching- a battle for control ensued, but with no warning of any kind, the fire giant was easily controlled. Still, the giant would remember anything he did while under the influence of Greywulf's power. He couldn't do anything too drastic or their hand would be played out...
Imoen watched with a hint of nervousness as one of the giants stumbled for a half-second, then stood straight again. He turned to the second giant, also guarding the stairwell, and said something unintelligible from her distance out- the second one grumbled, but waved him on. The one under Greywulf's mind control strode back up the stairs, leaving them with a newly opened field of view that nobody was watching- Greywulf blinked once, then twice, finally shaking it off as the giant walking up the stairs with his back turned slowed, doing the same.
"What did you-" Imoen began before Greywulf grabbed her by the collar and the back of her right thigh, rearing back with all the power that his magic had provided.
"Told him he had to go take a piss- he'll be back in a second. Hold on!"
X X X X X X
Hell. That's what war was, after all. A mass of fire and death, with the battlefield nothing less than a graveyard where men and women fell, equally devastated, equally massacred. The ground took no sides- it equally accepted the blood of those both righteous and those wicked. Just as it accepted the blood of those who had so recently destroyed Saradush- it accepted the blood of those who sought to avenge it. The blood of the Radiant Heart.
Sir Ryan spun his blade in a wide arc, cutting down another soldier that got too near, then tossed his whole body to the side to avoid a sweeping hammer blow from a fire giant. The giant was wounded, arrows lodged all over his legs and a few in his chest, but they were annoyances, nothing more. Only a shot to the eye or into the mouth would be enough to bring such a monstrosity down- and with the arrival of Yaga-Shura and his kinsmen, the battle had gone for the worse.
Sir Ryan climbed to his feet, hefting his sword with both hands. His shield had been shattered long ago upon the blow of an axe wielded by one of the giants- it had saved his life, and now lay on the field a twisted shard of metal. He dodged a pair of warriors dueling one knight, weaved back and forth around another fire giant corpse, then leapt off the ground to slice past the giant who had nearly killed him, cutting another gouge into the exposed leg. The giant howled, staggering back with the wound, giving Sir Ryan a brief moment to come around again, this time slicing directly behind the knee. The giant came to the ground with an earth-shattering thud, while Trawl jumped to hold on to the back of the humanoid's plate mail with one hand, and sweep his blade across the front of the fire giant's neck with the other, cutting his throat as blood showered the field below.
The beast collapsed and Sir Ryan rolled off the man's back to one knee, panting in exhaustion as he surveyed the field of battle... too much death. Too many lives lost in this one battle- all around, his knights were slowly losing the battle, slowly giving way to the full might of the armies of Yaga-Shura. They had slain six of the giants who had come to fight originally, but Yaga-Shura still stood, and more giants were standing at the top of the hill, raining arrows down upon them along with the spells of the mages. An explosion of fire rocked the site where three knights were hacking away at a fire giant- all three warriors went flying, screams abruptly cutting off, while the giant winced, then stood tall, ignoring the heat as he roared in victory.
Anguish filled the paladin's heart, looking at the battlefield- there was no hope of victory now. The Radiant Heart forces were scattered over the battlefield, unable to come together in any kind of defensive formation. Their mages were long dead, and their knights had no time or quarter to target the enemies that rained spellfire atop them. They had underestimated the size of the army that Yaga-Shura wielded at his command- a mistake they would not have made had their numbers not been stretched so thin. Skirmishes here and there, pushing the Order to its limits- it could not be a coincidence. It could not be. The Bhaalspawn- they were behind this.
The thought gave Sir Ryan new strength, strength enough for one final dash. The battle was lost, but their target, the fire giant himself, the Bhaalspawn commander- right there. He pushed himself up once more and charged. An arm up to deflect a sweeping blow, ricocheting off his gauntlet, leaving his arm nearly numb from the impact. An arrow headed his way- it brushed the hair coming off his helm as he ducked just beneath it. Yaga-Shura turned, saw his charge and laughed the laugh of madness, of one whose power had stripped them of sense and reason. Sir Ryan's face contorted in effort as he hurled himself forward with all his might, shoving his blade into the giant's leg in an overhand thrust, then yanking himself upward to grab hold of an arrow ticking from the giant's stomach. Yaga-Shura howled in fury, reaching down to grab the man, but Sir Ryan yanked the blade from the leg and swept over while dangling off the ground to slice off one of the fingers reaching for his body.
The heat of bloodlust was on him- he knew this was the end. No turning back now- but if the kill could be made, if this monster could be brought down- it would all be worth it. Sir Ryan felt his arm quake, the adrenaline providing only so much strength- he reached up and jammed the sword into Yaga-Shura's chest, feeling the blade begin to cut downwards with his weight, only to catch on the rib cage, jolting him enough to let go of the handle and fall to the ground. He collapsed, barely able to look up to see what he had done- and his eyes went wide in despair and shock. Silence filled his hearing, the noise of the battlefield gone as he watched Yaga-Shura look at the blade impaling him, then reach out with his wounded hand, the finger he had cut off regrowing, muscle and flesh forming around the new extremity. The sword was pulled out with a sickly sound, and it clattered to the ground beside Sir Ryan as Yaga-Shura leaned down, grabbing the paladin with both hands. Sir Ryan tried to struggle, but his strength had left him along with all hope.
The Bhaalspawn fixed eyes with the paladin for a moment... only for a moment. Then, as his armor began collapsing in the iron grip of the giant, his body following suit, Sir Ryan Trawl felt the darkness of oblivion claim him.
X X X X X X
Interesting, really. To find such power in a place as this was not... unreasonable, per se. But to find one who would not only wield the power of the gods but then put herself in such a foolish position, struck down by the one she had raised... surely it could not have been unforeseen. Such power and wisdom, yet tempered by the foolishness of one who did not completely grasp the might she wielded. Were Nyalee possessed with the same foresight and wisdom that she herself had, they might've been rivals. It might have been Nyalee in position to claim the Throne of Bhaal for herself.
But it was not to be... the old priestess was little more than a shell of her former self- her youthful exterior a mockery, a falsehood maintained by the ritual that had removed her heart. That ritual... such an interesting gambit. To gain immortality at the expense of providing your foes with a weakness to exploit and strike at- was it worth it? Perhaps. Perhaps not. Yaga-Shura had used the ritual, but in its completion, the weakness was almost as prevalent. To return the heart without the ritual rejoining, the bond would kill him. And yet, neither the heart nor the giant could be harmed.
For Nyalee, in her imperfect version of the ritual, it made it nearly impossible to kill her- and yet, if she moved from these woods, left her heart to burn alone, it would eventually go out, leaving her a withered husk of a woman, paralyzed with the stolen years of her life coming to haunt her until the heart was ignited once again. But the rejoining could never be accomplished without the blood of a god. Not a Bhaalspawn's blood, no. The blood... of a god.
Nyalee was busy preparing a stew of some kind- a foul, murky mixture that was probably part human, part animal. She wondered if Nyalee knew that her life was about to end. When was the last time that thought had crossed her mind? After all, when one is immortal for so many years, does one even remember what it feels like to be afraid for one's life? She supposed that she would have to ask herself that same question in the end... but for now, Nyalee would know the answer. She stood from her vantage point, letting her powers levitate her from atop the forest down to Nyalee's grove, settling in the ruins with a clack of her heels upon the stone.
Nyalee turned with a whirl, eyes narrowing as she spied the darkened figure approach, remaining silent except for the footsteps. "Who intrudes upon my sanctuary?"
As she came into the light, Nyalee's eyes widened, then she unhooded herself, letting her posture relax ever so slightly. "You... I had never thought to see you again. But I see that I should have known far better, yes?"
She did not answer, only glanced down at the green flame surrounding the old arches of the ruins. Nyalee's small hint of relaxation began to disappear as the figure strode to the flame, reaching out with one hand to the flame-
"What are you doing?" Nyalee shouted, running towards the flame- a wave of dark magics sent the witch tumbling head over heels, even as the heart burning within floated into the figure's grasp. Nyalee's gaze was fixed on the heart- a flash of a blade and the left hand of the one holding it dripped with blood. The heart changed hands- and suddenly Nyalee understood. "The blood of a god...?!"
Lightning reigned down and struck Nyalee- her eyes and mouth erupted with power, wind encircling the witch as her robes flapped open, a hole crumbling in her chest as the heart began to spin in mid-air, levitating while arcs of lightning jumped between the heart and the cavity it had resided within for so long- and with a final thunderclap, the heart returned to its former resting place.
Nyalee collapsed to the ground, her body smoking, mouth open as she gasped for breath. She managed to roll over, her hands twitching as she curled up, looking up pitifully as her visitor walked to stand over her. "W... why?!"
"You know much of the Bhaalspawn. It is by your word that Yaga-Shura will die." the figure finally spoke. "But it is what you know of me... that is what makes you a threat. And I will not abide any interference to my ascension."
A large, jagged spear materialized in the woman's hand, and Nyalee could do nothing as it was raised. "No! No!! Amelyssan....!"
The spear came down with a spurt of blood, and as the light dimmed in Nyalee's eyes, Amelyssan jerked it out, then smiled, wiping the small flecks of blood from her face. The power of the gods was intoxicating... but it was time to return it to the source. She had already lost the taint of Gromnir to the other Bhaalspawn because she had been using the god-power to escape Gromnir's prison at the time. It would not do to let Yaga-Shura die while the pathway to the Throne was cut off. Time to become simple, helpful Mellissan again... and watch as the wards of Gorion fought tooth and nail to make her the new Goddess of Murder.