Funny, how first impressions never seemed to fade. Not entirely. Like the first time tasting a new dish of food, if that first time was slightly off... or if some of the ingredients were mixed wrong... it didn't matter how good it might be every time afterwards, that first impression always clung tightly in the mind. It applied to nearly everything. Certain places still gave Aerie the creeps. Cages made her cringe, even after all the time she'd spent in the circus, surrounded by them. Bonesaws made her flinch whenever she saw them; the sounds of them cutting through tissue and bones and ligaments made her queasy inside.
Still, for all the bad first impressions she had, the ones that could make her gag or turn away in revulsion, there remained those that brought back memories of happier times- or at least simpler ones. Like the sight of cloud-draped mountaintops against a blue, sunny sky. Or majestic wings giving flight to an eagle, or a hawk, letting them soar effortlessly, riding the winds and the skies like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like looking down upon the world from on high gave them some kind of wisdom, some kind of knowledge that those poor land-locked souls would never know. For a time, it was true; those memories had made her bitter, made her weak. She'd overcome that for some time now- she'd turned those memories back to what they should always have been... a source of strength, of hope that she might one day have that confidence, that wisdom from on high while still down below.
But those first impressions... funny how they endured. Or those feelings that one got in the presence of certain people. Even after all the time they'd known one another, fought alongside each other, she still couldn't completely shake the sense of falling short, that faint hint of... inadequacy, she supposed was the right word. The feeling that she could never quite measure up to the exacting standards that Jaheira set for not only herself, but everyone around her. Just old memories, of course. They'd come to a working relationship, and while it was never warm, gone was the constant bickering and sniping that served only to distract and proved a disservice to them both.
Out of all that, they had a bond. And despite how Jaheira could still sometimes make her feel three inches tall with just a glare, she intended to follow through with it. Especially in light of what had happened- of just how much Aerie knew of Jaheira, now. Those memories that had flashed before the druid's eyes, as Aerie attempted to reform her mind, to bring her back from the psychic hole she'd collapsed into... Aerie had lain witness to them as well. She knew more of Jaheira than perhaps the woman would have ever allowed her to know... and it was a trust that while not freely given, Aerie intended to strive to live up to.
The sound of various preparations filled the Pocket Plane- whether unconsciously or not, Greywulf had filtered out the moans, the echoes and wails of tormented souls from the overvoid that surrounded this hellish plane. The only sound was that of a wind, a breeze never ending and bringing a chill in its wake. Greywulf was occupied with Cespenar at the moment, inspecting the weaponry that the little imp butler had crafted for their mission against Yaga-Shura... Aerie felt a small shiver go down her spine as she looked at the arrows that Greywulf was letting roll back and forth in his hands- she'd never felt comfortable around those particular missiles. Not after she'd seen one impact a hobgoblin and felt the chunks of flesh come raining down. Regardless, he was occupied, which gave her the opportunity of sorts she was looking for... as odd as it was, she didn't want him overhearing what she had to say to Jaheira. Not yet, anyway.
Jaheira brushed a stray lock of hair behind her pointed ear, frowning as she noted a loose strap on her pack. She grunted slightly, tightening it to her approval. She pulled on both leather cords, feeling for any sign of give or loosening in the straps that would bind the pack to her. No movement... perfect. The druid planted her hands on her hips and straightened up, craning her neck and feeling joints pop, tension and stress slowly draining away. A quick exhalation of air and she felt her senses flood, her body return to the sense of peace she needed before battle. And in that peace, she sensed a presence- Aerie.
The elven maiden seemed to slide over the ground, her robes covering her feet as she slid to within a few yards of her companion- she never felt comfortable getting much closer. It was always easier to wait for the strong-willed woman to initiate the conversation. She was much more a follower- in both battle and in their talks. No longer because she had to be- not like it had been when they first met. Now it was because she chose to submit to her companion... letting the voice of experience take lead for her.
"Aerie. I am glad you came to me- I wished to speak with you before we left."
The Avariel paused a moment as Jaheira turned to face her- the woman's expression was neutral, but rarely did they ever engage in small talk. Rather, if Jaheira wanted to talk with her, there was a definite purpose, a reason behind it. She would never simply... chat, like Aerie and Imoen were so fond of. Then again, Aerie could never imagine the two of them in a pillow fight either. "I was hoping to talk to you as well... but I suppose your reasons are probably more important. What is it?"
Jaheira arched an eyebrow, letting a faint smile tug at her lips. "You needn't be so meek with me still. It does not become you. But ah- it appears that I am still willing to tell you what does and does not suit you. Perhaps neither of us has changed as much as we might wish to believe. Regardless, I wish to speak with you about what transpired with Greywulf, back when I was unconscious."
Aerie shifted her weight from one foot to another; this was partly the topic she'd come to speak with Jaheira about in the first place. Was the druid noticing the same things she was seeing? It would make what she had to say much easier- "When you brought me from my... illness, I asked you about what happened in the Temple." Jaheira's eyes narrowed just slightly. "You conveniently neglected to mention anything of Greywulf's transformation into the Slayer again."
The words weren't really any sort of question... it was almost an accusation. What did she want Aerie to say? For a moment, there was nothing between them but an awkward silence, only punctuated briefly by a few chirps and words exchanged between Cespenar and Greywulf from across the rocky platform.
"I did what I thought was right at the time." Aerie said, carefully considering her words, her soft tones comforting whether she intended it or not. "It was not my place to speak of his decision... after speaking with him, both Minsc and I thought it best to let him tell you himself. Were we wrong?"
Jaheira didn't answer right away- but it only took her a moment to nod, respect in her eyes, and a relief to the girl under her gaze. "No... perhaps not. I feel as though you did not make this decision lightly, and I admit, it is probably for the best that he was allowed to tell me himself. I might have... overreacted, had I heard the news from you or Minsc. But taken from him... yes, perhaps it was better this way. I suppose I should thank you for allowing him that."
Aerie frowned- she sounded far too relaxed... was she even worried about what had happened? "You don't sound too concerned with what he did..." Aerie said cautiously, knowing that their relationship was one that both Jaheira and Greywulf would defend fiercely, after everything it had been put through. "I'm... I'm not certain everything is as it should be with Greywulf. That's why I wanted to talk to you. He has seemed... different to me. Talking to him, even watching him and the way he reacts to danger, to us, to Sarevok. As though he is no longer concerned with the taint that threatens him-"
"Is that so?" Jaheira's large green eyes flashed a warning, and Aerie knew she was treading lightly. Still, she had gone further than she anticipated before the druid had cut her off. Small victories... "And I assume you have some sort of evidence of Greywulf's misdoings, some kind of recollection you might share with me that will prove your point?"
"I... well-" Aerie hesitated- this was a problem. There was no real 'moment' she could point to and say that this was when she'd begun finding fault with the nonchalance, the confidence in which he conducted himself. Perhaps it had been after emerging from the empty challenge room... but she had seen and heard nothing of what had gone on inside. Nothing that would satisfy Jaheira's questions.
"Nothing? Hmph. So you would come to me with this without any evidence that would give you cause to question his loyalty and commitment."
"I never questioned his loyalty or com-" Aerie tried to begin, but Jaheira cut her off a second time.
"Haven't you? What you have told me is that you believe he is faltering in the very ideal he has set himself upon ever since learning of his accursed parentage. That he has, in your words, stopped being concerned with the very thing he has nearly given his life to fight many times over. And yet I still wait for your proofs, your reasoning behind this. Surely you have trained yourself to find truths hidden by others, to detect the lies that others set upon you. Surely this is not all some hunch you feel inside, a manifestation of your fears, is it?"
The withering barrage of both smug self-assurance and the almost military-grade strip-down she'd just received was enough to make her question the fears she'd held a few moments ago... perhaps she was simply overreacting. Perhaps there was nothing to be concerned about. After all, there was nobody closer to Greywulf, bar Imoen perhaps, and if neither Jaheira nor the pink-haired rogue could detect what Aerie was feeling, then maybe it was she who was wrong.
That would be much easier to accept. Because the truth in her gut told her something much worse. It told her that Jaheira and Imoen were too close. They loved him too much in their own ways, were far too close to him to see what was slowly changing about their lover and brother. The sinking feeling only grew worse when considering that should she voice this same concern to Imoen, she'd probably receive much the same response. Disguised a different way perhaps, cloaked in humor and playful reproval rather than sarcasm and lecturing tones, but it would be the same denial. That left only Minsc and Sarevok as her other avenues of aid... Sarevok? He had spoken with Greywulf when he had sequestered himself away...
Her thoughts were interrupted by Jaheira, who took her long silence as either penitence or acceptance. Surprisingly, her expression softened at the edges, a shift that many who did not know her would never have caught. "I thought so. Aerie... I appreciate you looking out for Greywulf. His is a dangerous road, and he will need support from all of us if he is to remain true. Questioning his every decision, even those with dangerous repercussions such as changing into the Slayer, will only make him doubt himself. He has proven to me that he has control, and I will not throw his confidence further into disarray. Nor will I allow you to do so either."
Aerie considered what she had seen in Jaheira's memories, what she had relived from the woman's mind when they had been linked. She knew just how much guilt Jaheira bore for abandoning her trust in Greywulf because of the Harpers, because of the deception she'd been put through when their relationship was still blossoming. That sense of guilt was causing her to under-react- in trying to keep from making the same mistake twice, she was ready to make a brand new one.
Aerie exhaled deeply, knowing that she would get no further down this path. "Very well. I will not bother you again until I have proof of what I fear. I hope you are right, Jaheira."
The druid watched with slightly narrowed eyes as Aerie turned and walked away... leaving only tiny seedlings of doubt in Jaheira's mind as she turned to focus on Greywulf.
Aerie continued her stride across the rocky plateau, focusing on her next target. This... would be much more difficult. Sarevok's gear and bedroll were far across the way from the others- it had only taken one or two nights before the Deathbringer had decided it would be easier for everyone involved if he simply gave them a wide berth. He had finished his own preparations far earlier than the others- she wasn't sure if he did it purposefully just to feel superior to the others, or whether it simply freed him up for more brooding time. Regardless, he was leaning against the rocky arches surrounding the edges of the platform, and her approach had been visible from the moment she'd walked away from Jaheira.
His glowing yellow eyes were tracking her the entire time, and she felt her skin crawl as she drew closer. Just talking with him left a bad taste in her mouth... his very presence was an anathema to her. How the others could tolerate him was beyond her. But this time, he might be the only one who could help validate her fears. She held no hope that he might help her in her larger goals, but maybe this small thing...
She closed within a half-dozen yards before he raised a hand, pushing himself off the arch and rising to stand straight, his height allowing him to tower over her. He didn't say anything- of course not. Waiting for her to speak, making sure that she would have to sacrifice her own pride and disgust of him if she wanted his input. She did not back down, but simply let her own elven features harden as much as she could make them. "Sarevok. I need to ask you something."
She deliberately tried to make it not sound like a question, but a demand. He thought so little of her, playing against his perceptions might 'impress' him enough to make him ever-so-slightly cooperative. He did not respond right away, nor did his face shift in any noticeable way. It was as though he hadn't even heard her. She stepped closer, refusing to be intimidated. "I need to know what you saw when you spoke with Greywulf, down in that Challenge Pit. You were the only one who spoke with him before he emerged... what did he say to you?"
Sarevok did not reply for another spell that seemed like an eternity. For a brief moment Aerie feared she would have to ask him a third time, or worse that he would simply ignore her completely. Finally, he spoke, his tone thick with arrogance. "You ask a question you don't want to know the answer to, girl. Let it be, and go back to whatever you think is your life. It matters little in the end."
Aerie paused, then let a smirk drift onto her face. "All right. Now answer me without all that pretentious garbage. What did he say?"
It was clear Sarevok hadn't been expecting that response- his words had been just vague enough, just threatening enough to put off any weak-willed individual, leaving them feeling unsure of themselves, unsure of what they had just heard, and appropriately intimidated by the big warrior. As much as Sarevok hated to admit it... he was somewhat impressed. That didn't mean, of course, he was going to go easy on her. "What are you after, girl? Are you afraid that your precious leader has finally taken one too many looks into that abyss? That he has seen his true face in the Slayer, and won't be able to step away? I think you are. You're petrified that for all the lightness and sugar and cheer you think you can muster to keep him from fulfilling his destiny, that he's going to see you and the others for what you are, what you've always been. Distractions, impediments... you stand in the way of the power he can claim."
On the defensive so quickly- Aerie barely had time to find her voice and reply. "You're wrong about him. That's not what he's after at all. He's nothing like you."
"Isn't he?" Sarevok pushed himself forward with a sneer, leaning in until his face was nearly touching Aerie's. "I'll let you in on a secret, little girl. I'm going to make certain that by the end, Greywulf will claim the Throne of Bhaal for his own. Every step of the way on our journeys, I will be right beside him, whispering in his ear, reminding him of his true destiny, of the power that could be his. I've done so much to guide his path already... and none of you even know it."
"Then I'll tell them all." Aerie declared angrily, her ire rising within. "I'll tell them all what you're doing-"
"Hah!" Sarevok barked a laugh, their gazes still locked upon one another. "Every one of you, my brother included, knew what my plans were when I joined with you. I never hid my ultimate goals from anyone here. You knew my intentions the moment I took my first resurrected breath. There is *nothing* you can do."
Aerie could not hide the look of shock and outrage that blossomed on her face- he was right. She- all of them- knew Sarevok had plans to claim power at Greywulf's side, but this... trying to convert him, to slowly turn him from his friends and everything he believed in... she hadn't seen it coming. None of them had. All they'd seen were his outward boasts and obnoxious taunts. The obvious stuff that Greywulf batted aside with no effort at all. She had not responded by the time Sarevok stepped away, gathered his pack and secured it, then moved to rejoin the others. He paused beside her, leaning in to whisper in her ear. "You've already lost him and you don't even know it. Try and stop me."
X X X X X X
The perils of adventuring were many and varied- it was not a profession for the faint-hearted. At any given moment, one could be struck by the foulest of demons and monsters, or simply rained upon by inclement weather. The day could bring nothing but good fortune and riches beyond the imaginings of a miser, or it could steal anything and everything. It was feast or famine, heaven or hell. Adventurers had to deal with both, sometimes twice a day.
Having accepted that, sometimes it was easy to forget about the little things. In focusing on the beholder queen threatening to destroy the plane of reality, it was easy to miss the splinters from the shaft of a spear. Or in this case, in setting out to recruit Cernd to their cause, Anomen had forgotten that their path would lead them through swamp and marshland to get to the druid grove. He winced as he took another step, his heavy greaves and boots sinking with a 'slorp' as the mud came nearly to the top of his boot- he whispered a silent prayer of thanks- another half-inch and it would've been above the top of his boot, making the rest of the journey decidedly uncomfortable and squishy.
He glanced behind him- Solaufein didn't seem to be the least bit perturbed by the trudging, and Reynald struggled valiantly to avoid looking the least bit inconvenienced- no doubt for Nalia's sake. Anomen let himself smile with a shake of the head- Nalia was a complicated woman, and her rise in power had only furthered that complication. She was beautiful no doubt, but it would take a special kind of man to not only win her heart but be able to keep up with her. If Reynald thought he could do so... Helm's blessing to him. He'd need it. Speaking of Nalia- Anomen grimaced with a hint of jealousy. Her leather boots were glowing a light yellow, hovering just above the surface of the mud and swamp. A personal Glide spell, she had called it. Not one she could extend to the others, and not one she could maintain for more than a few minutes at a time, but enough to get her between the small patches of dry land they found every so often.
A few feet in front of the gliding mage, Solaufein pushed forward again, his muscular legs and calves knifing through the mud, keeping his feet low. It would be more difficult with each step, but faster and more efficient in the end. This druid had best be willing to join them- he would be rather peeved if this particular trek had been for naught. Not that he would allow himself to show that irritation. He was good at hiding emotions- no surprise there, considering his upbringing. Still, it had its advantages here on the surface as well- such as keeping Nalia under close watch without her, or the others, in fact, knowing. Something about her was just rubbing him the wrong way...
"Solaufein? If you would, I wish to speak with you for a moment."
He nearly sighed outright. The gods certainly did have a sense of humor, however perverted it may have been. Still, he kept up his impassive exterior, giving her a slight nod of acknowledgment as she slid beside him. Her features were shadowed in the trees and forest surrounding them, and had it not been for his infravision, he would not have seen the slight up curl at her lips when she spoke. "You seem quiet as of late. Is there something on your mind?"
He spared her a quick shrug, just enough to translate to the heavy armor he was wearing. "Have you ever known me to be the talkative sort?"
Her laughter was high and lilting, echoing through the area, answered only by the chirps of birds and throaty croaks of frogs. "I suppose not. Still, I cannot help but think there is something bothering you. Your manner has seemed distant... cold, even."
Her tone turned questioning and hard abruptly, using her height advantage to look down upon the drow elf with a withering glare that bore the weight of both a powerful mage as well as a noblewoman of Amn. She continued, no longer in the friendly tone she had born before. "Have I done something to offend you? If so, I should like to get it out and dealt with before we progress much further."
"Hnh." Solaufein grunted, refusing to be intimidated by this old acquaintance. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Even if I did, I find your manner somewhat blunt. If you really wish an answer, you might try using tact in the future."
"Is that so?" Nalia replied dryly, letting her expression soften ever so slightly. "My experience with the other wretched nobles of this land has shown me that quick and decisive action is always preferred. But if it pleases you, I'd like to know if I've done something to offend you. Please."
Solaufein glanced up toward the others in their troupe- Anomen trudged on at lead, probably too far to be listening in on their conversation unless all was silent and he was straining his ears, but both were unlikely. Reynald was close enough though- however, he had done nothing to acknowledge that their conversation was even happening thus far. Solaufein had been keeping his voice low as was his usual wont, but Nalia had done nothing to disguise the high pitch in her words. The mage-thief noticed his glances and laughed again. "Do give me some credit. A quick spell to mask our conversation, should it be something you were uncomfortable speaking before the others. I have dealt with far too many secrets and men who valued their privacy to not have learned some methods of tact."
He nodded... she was smarter than he had given her credit for. In fact, she was better all around than he remembered. He would have to reevaluate his methods around her if they remained at odds, however secret it remained. "Very well then. Since you seem to be so well equipped for this particular dialogue, why don't you tell me what you think I'll say." One of the first rules he'd learned when dealing with rivals and politicians in the Underdark- when dealing with someone you didn't know everything about, use them to fill in the blanks you were missing.
"Me? I have no clue, I'm sure." Nalia shrugged, relaxing ever so slightly as her path took her over a raised tree root, where grass and solid dirt provided an island of sorts. She took the opportunity to rest and renew her magics, inhaling deeply as she slowed her gait to step beside Solaufein, continuing on his path without regard for the solid ground nearby. "Only that you came to my Keep seeking aid, and left it on edge, as though you could not wait to leave my presence. Another woman might have taken offense to that… you simply stirred a mystery for me to solve."
He tugged at a particularly sticky piece of ground to unlodge his boot as they continued, Solaufein mentally cataloging Nalia's words. It was true, he'd not been as open or kind to the girl as he might've been before. Not that he had ever been supremely kind or open to anyone, in fact. But he hadn't thought his slight change in attitude would be noticeable. The old Nalia wouldn't have noticed, anyway. Still, he was good at bluffing and thinking on his feet. He fixed his most impassive glare and looked her in the eyes. "You're chasing ghosts. If you sense coldness in our friendship, look to yourself for the chill."
"You think I don't understand why you might feel this way. I do, truly." she pressed, stepping off the island as her Glide spell activated again. Her brow knit and her light brown hair swung to cover half her face as she glanced at him with the other. "I'm not the same girl I was when we first met, nowhere close. I'm no longer naive, no longer idealistic or foolish. I still want to help people, that's never changed... I simply know now what it takes to fight the monsters that exist in this world."
"And just what is that?'
"Power." Nalia said firmly, her voice solid, unwavering in its conviction. "For every paladin or adventurer out there who plays by the rules, there are a dozen sorcerers or death knights who'll do whatever it takes to get their way. If we hold back because of... of some sort of sense of fairness or kindness or if we think that just because we were strong enough this time it'll be enough for the next time, then it's the people who are going to suffer because of it! I've seen my people suffer time and time again because I didn't have what it took to protect them. Because I thought that setting boundaries on what I would and wouldn't do meant that my enemies would do the same."
Her words came with a tone of bitterness, as though these were lessons learned the hard way. Indeed, it was a difficult path, coming to terms that sometimes the end justified the means. It was certainly a lesson he had learned well back in Ust Natha. However, he wasn't convinced... mainly because it was how he had been raised. There was never any question about his philosophy, no learning of the subtleties and how they contrasted with the way he had been behaving previously. No worries that he would take it too far, lose his own purpose. With Nalia... those questions abounded. "I understand what you say... you have never known me to give my opponents any advantage." Solaufein intoned, slipping his hood off to enhance his peripheral vision. They were getting a good ways into the marshes- if the druids maintained any kind of border patrol, they would be coming up on them sometime soon.
"I know it well." Nalia nodded, the sound of... pleading, was it- coming into her voice. Pleading for what? Approval? "And I know I've changed. I know I'm not the same girl I used to be, but I've only ever done what had to be. The world changes and if we don't keep up, we'll get swept behind. That's all I've ever-"
A twig snapped and Solaufein froze, raising a hand as the other went to his sword hilt. Nalia immediately sank into the marshes, dispelling the sound dampener around the two of them with a wave and raising and preparing to release a barrage of energy at the slightest provocation. Anomen's mace was raised, Reynald's shield and sword at guard. As moments ticked by, rustling began echoing through the wood, and a group of three men dressed in furs and leathers emerged from the darkness and mist. A man with face paint and a sharp nose was at lead, his eyes taking each one in turn, before planting his quarterstaff in the mud firmly. "Visitors to our grove are rare these days, and for good reason. Like the wind over the plains, the threat of Murder has overshadowed the lands, and we will not tolerate threats to our people. I am Cernd, and I ask you in the name of Verthan, Grand Druid, what is it you seek here?"
Anomen stepped forward, exhaling with pleasure at finding the one they had sought. He raised a hand in greeting, bowing slightly. "We greet you in the name of the Radiant Heart. My old master was a friend of yours, one Keldorn Firecam. As for what we seek... it is you, Cernd. We have need of your help."
X X X X X X
In the middle of the forest road outside of Saradush, the air was thick with smoke and ash, remnants of the burned city only a few miles down the road. Visibility was poor, and anyone who had lived or plied their trade in the area was long since gone, fled or killed. There was literally nothing left for those who remained, only for the armies of Yaga-Shura, what they could scavenge and take from those who had been trampled underfoot. Still, there always remained survivors, those who would not give up their lives so quickly. Their numbers dwindled, but they existed.
Heart beating like a drum, one such man ran as fast as he could through the forest, branches and twigs leaving painful scratches and marks across his bare arms and face as he pushed his way further and further from Saradush, trying not to look back. He couldn't help it- one glance showed him that two fire giants were still in hot pursuit, stomping behind him without worry or haste, their huge strides keeping up with him easily. They were toying with him- the moment he stopped running they would catch him and slaughter him, only because they could. He swore and kept moving, trying to ignore the burning in his lungs and in the muscles of his legs, knowing that he was literally running for his life.
He turned back to try and divine some path through the wood that would give him shelter, a place to hide, a path they couldn't follow- anything! In a brief second, his prayers were answered. A thunderclap echoed before him and six pillars of light blazed into existence, the heat of their power making him draw back and shield his eyes, watching as the nearby vegetation was singed and set aflame from the power that was coalescing before him. He barely heard the thuds of the approaching giants, spotting the magical disturbance as well. Only when the light had dimmed and he could begin to make out six forms inside the light did he remember where he was and just why he had been running- he looked up and screamed as a war hammer swung into his side, sending him hurtling into a tree, his bones cracking and breaking with the impact.
That scream was the first thing the six adventurers heard as they materialized on the road to Saradush, transported there from the Pocket Plane. Imoen's eyes widened as she saw the poor villager crushed with the attack, the other fire giant gazing down at them, recognition coming to his eyes. "Aha!! It's the Bhaalspawn Yaga-Shura wanted! Kill them all!!"
"Aerie, get to the man they injured. He might be able to tell us something. The rest of you- bring them down." Greywulf ground out as he lowered his frame, preparing to leap out of the way of the oncoming swing- there. He and Jaheira both dived from the oncoming axe swing, their jumps taking them separate directions. Sarevok and Minsc both charged, their blades striking exactly opposite of one another. The giant whose feet had literally been cut from his body screamed in terror and pain as he tumbled down with war hammer in hand, Minsc pausing just enough to let the giant's neck fall into his blade as he slashed outward.
The other giant roared and swept his axe again, the blow aimed at Minsc. Sarevok's form was there instead, the Sword of Chaos blocking the actual attack but the momentum of the swing still sent both men tumbling away. Aerie ignored the heavy thumps and shouts behind her as she slid to a halt beside the broken, dying man, hoping that her magics could hold him to this plane, if only for a few moments longer... but as she worked, she heard the thuds of footsteps behind her, and she glanced upward to see the giant towering over her, axe raised to bisect her. She could either stop treating the mortally wounded man and defend herself, or rely on her friends to come through... and she let herself smile as she kept working, hearing a scream of pain from the giant. A Cone of Cold from Imoen's hands was slowly encasing the giant's feet and calves in ice, immobilizing the giant. His hands and torso were covered in small insects, biting and stinging and swarming as Jaheira let her Insect Swarm loose upon him. His head was crackling with electricity, the bolts of lightning dancing over his eyes and mouth, lighting his skull from within every few seconds as Greywulf maintained a steady stream of lightning from his fingertips.
In moments, the giant tumbled to the ground, head smoking, body red and swollen, and legs cracked and broken. The three magic users exhaled in relief, glancing to make certain that Sarevok and Minsc were rejoining them before coming to Aerie's side, the girl trying desperately to keep the man alive, but failing fast. He looked at them with a trickle of blood from his nose and mouth, his voice faint and hoarse. "D-dead.... all dead. S-s-saradush is gone, he killed them all..."
His head slumped to the side, eyes wide and glassy. The others glanced from his body to the barely visible horizon, where nothing but smoke and ash could be seen in the sky. "We're too late." Imoen whispered, holding herself as a sudden chill filled the thief-mage's slender figure. "We were gone less than a week..."
"It doesn't- can't matter now." Greywulf managed, his tone dark and vengeful. "We will mourn the dead after we kill Yaga-Shura. He's been allowed to roam freely for too long- it ends today."