Authors Note: Man, it's been a while. Patience is a virtue, right? Not sure how many of you are still reading, but if you are, then we just hit the halfway point. Part 1 is over and Part 2 will bring us to the end… thanks for sticking with me!
Magic spun before Balthazar, forming the portals of communication that would bring to him the visage of his 'allies' in mere moments- he struggled to maintain his emotions, to keep them in check as the spells did their work. Unusual, for him. He was a monk, well versed in every art of self-discipline and every method of maintaining control. His body was a finely tuned machine, one he could manipulate and work with precision unrivaled by his fellow monks. And yet... here he was, trying not to smile, trying to keep his joy from showing. Yaga-Shura was dead.
The fire giant, the immortal one, the invincible demi-god whose power rivaled any of the Five with ease... was dead. The monk forced himself to concentrate, forced his lips to spread thin, flat, to show no emotion as Abazigal and Sendai appeared before him from their underground lairs... they stared at him with a mixture of curiosity, impatience, and boredom. He did insist on keeping them updated on his doings, such as they were, and such as he deigned to actually tell them the truth, just as they did the same for him. Naturally, never letting too much of their own stratagems out either. Still, it was like a chess game- reading people, reading his allies and seeing their moods, hearing their words, it was enough to give him some insight into what they were up to.
Like a game... the analogy was rather accurate. The opening move was always his- he held the keys for contact between them all, made certain that any contact between the Five directly passed through his portals of magic, was facilitated by his spells and rituals. And like any advantage, it had to be pressed if it was to be of any use. He had to keep the others from taking the offensive, demanding his time, his efforts rather than using them to expend their own. Balthazar spoke without warning, without hesitation. "Yaga-Shura is dead. The wards of Gorion killed him and his army at Saradush... and now they are coming for the rest of us."
He barely heard the snarl of disbelief, the futile swearing as he let them vent their sudden, unabashed ire and surprise. Pausing, waiting for them to regain clarity of mind and thought, knowing their reactions before they would. Oh yes, he knew his partners quite well... he had not joined with them on a whim. Weeks of study, spying, figuring just who they were and what they were after... how they would go about getting it. Mellissan had been helpful in her efforts, bringing them as one, and he had made use of her services for learning as much as he could of the rest of the Five. She claimed to the others that she was helping them share the power of Bhaal, and that her reward would be to serve as the high priestess of the new deities. She had told him that she wanted to end the threat of the Bhaalspawn, and that bringing him together with the rest of them would let the group dispatch the remaining god-children throughout the Realms, while he built his power base and then dispatched the others, in the end. Did he believe them, or her? Balthazar's mouth twitched as memories flashed across the open plains of his mind...
Mellissan 's features were well hidden behind the dark brown cloak she wore as the two of them strode down the halls of the Amkethran castle, dust and sand shifting beneath their feet in the desert wind. "I do hope you have taken my request seriously." her voice, only slightly muffled by the wrap that kept the dust from entering her nostrils and mouth as they came to an open-air platform near the top of the castle's highest tower, across the bridges that connected their lookout points. "I understand how this must sound-"
"It sounds like you are ambitious. Willing to risk everything for your own goals, whether they be what you have said or not. For if you should fail, you can imagine what fate awaits you... from either myself, or those you plan to bring to ruin." he replied evenly, his own bald head glistening with sweat from the harsh sun beating down. He did not wear protection as she did- he was used to the climate and the swirling gusts did not trouble him. Physical discomfort was just that... physical. Something to be overcome in the mind. A monk such as he knew no such distractions... and distractions were not something he could afford, not when his spirit, his own soul already troubled him so.
"You do not trust me fully, I see that clearly enough." Mellissan said with a tilt of her eyes, glancing towards him as they walked. "Why should you? I have brought little to bear except the ideas which I have already stated... but you find yourself intrigued nonetheless, don't you?"
He did not reply, choosing instead to stop as they reached a covered section, the dome supported by pillars only half preventing the blazing sun from reaching them, but enough such that Mellissan removed her hood, revealing her sharp beauty beneath. "Balthazar... believe me when I tell you that we are on the same side. These Bhaalspawn that I bring to your doorstep- they are the most powerful in the land. If someone does not take steps to halt their advance, they will bring ruin to Faerun. Only by joining their ranks, by becoming part of the Five can you monitor their actions, learn their weaknesses... I am no warrior, no Bhaalspawn with the powers of a demi-god. I bring to the table only my skills as a mage and my desire to see this land freed of their influence. You claim to want the same..."
"And why would they accept me as a part of this mad scheme?" Balthazar finally spoke, his proud bearing and deep voice leaving echoes through the wind-swept platform. "I have never shown a desire to amass the powers of Bhaal- my decision to come here, to raise this place into a fortress from which I could defend myself against my siblings was borne of necessity, not a lust for the blood of my kin."
"Oh, but that lust is most certainly there, is it not?" Mellissan probed, testing the waters carefully, seeing just how tormented and strained the monk standing before her was. "All your life you trained to deny the evil within you, to hold yourself to a higher cause and be something you aren't. I offer you the chance to atone for every wickedness you committed against your will... to cleanse the Realms of not just your own evil, but that of every other Bhaalspawn. Will you not at least consider my offer? If not for yourself, then for the good of Faerun?"
He glared once more, his eyes a window to the struggle within-
"Enough of this." he commanded, momentarily silencing the two god-spawn before him. "Shall we simply bluster and boast of our strengths or will one of us end this threat before it claims all of our lives?"
"You are bold, to say such things while cowering in your fortress of rock and stone, behind an army of your sycophantic followers." Sendai sneered, her red eyes flashing with venom as she spoke. "I would ask how the fire giant fell to the wards of Gorion! His powers rendered him nigh-invulnerable... he could not have defeated Yaga-Shura without help..."
Balthazar did not reply, but kept his features calm and unmoving. Her implication was, of course, that Balthazar had somehow aided them, or at the very least had been plotting a way to kill Yaga-Shura himself. That was, naturally, true. He had been devising ways to get around the spells that protected the giant, as had the other members of the Five as soon as the massive barbarian had joined their ranks. Her accusations were little more than a way to appease her own anger and try to put him on the defensive. He would allow it... just another step in the game. Let the other player advance, let them think they held some kind of advantage... let them overextend.
"You are one to talk, Sendai!" Abazigal boomed, his draconian laughs echoing through the portal and all around. His scaled skin glistened in the low light, a reptilian gaze flitting between both of them. "My lair is displayed for the entire world to see, to assault should they dare! Now that Yaga-Shura is dead, it is I who will take flight to annihilate the remaining Bhaalspawn- the flames of my children will wipe this land clean, and all who oppose me shall perish."
The proud declarations and boasts of the half-dragon almost made Balthazar crack a smile... almost. How different, and yet completely oblivious the two before him were... Sendai, cloaked in shadow underground, amassing forces of duergar, drow, spiders and illithid, while Abazigal gathered every weak-minded drake and dragon to join his cause that he could. All hiding in their lairs, all boasting of their ability to kill those who stood against them... all unwilling to move without the assurance that they would not be left out to rot. Pathetic.
Of course, that didn't mean they couldn't be manipulated. It was true, Sendai's army was better suited for the darkness, to defend against invaders and repel those who would come after her. And Abazigal's threats of a dragon filled sky raining fire on the masses were not empty- it would be a terrifying sight indeed. One that Balthazar had to make certain did not come to pass...
Before the two Bhaalspawn could descend into their petty squabbles once more, Balthazar stepped in, raising a hand to calm them both. "I said enough. We will accomplish nothing like this. Our only recourse is to wait for Greywulf and Imoen to come to us. We must allow them to over-extend themselves, step into our traps, and then we shall have them at our pleasure."
"A coward's tactics." Abazigal growled, spitting harshly. "You would have my army cower behind rock and stone? We are not meant for such things-"
"Be silent, worm." Sendai purred, folding her arms and nodding to Balthazar. "The monk speaks wisely for once. It is as I have said all along- let them come and we shall annihilate them on our doorstep."
"I did not say this for your benefit, Sendai." Balthazar shot a brief glance her way before turning back to Abazigal... that sort of brief dismissal was sure to wound her oh-so-proud ego. "Your armies are not capable of battling the wards of Gorion on the open surface. They would be slaughtered with ease. Abazigal's, on the other hand..."
The dragon smirked as the drow voiced her fury, and Balthazar scarcely heard it all. Like puppets on a string- the Five... Three, now, were powerful and strong and could cause ferocious devastation had they a leader to guide their actions... only by the grace of the gods had he ended up as the one to mitigate their damage. The gods... and Mellissan. He wondered if she even lived, after the destruction of Saradush... but there was no time for such pondering. The rivalry between the remaining members of the Five was simmering just beneath the surface, and he had but to continue to stoke it, to let the two remaining waste their energy and talent. It would be some trick, however, figuring out how to slay Greywulf and Imoen, without the aid of the others... that part he had not quite figured out yet.
A sudden flash of light from his hand drew his attention, and Balthazar glanced down to note the ring he wore on his right hand glowed gently. The token Mellissan had given to him to trigger the communication portals, much like he had done with the other members of the Five. So... she was still alive after all. He wondered just how she had managed to survive the ruin of Saradush... he reminded himself that she was a mage and had powers beyond that which she showed, but it was not in his nature to simply accept things at face value. He would have to inquire as to the exact method by which she yet lived... but that was a matter for later. If there was any threat for him to focus upon, it was the remaining Bhaalspawn. And so Balthazar simply noted the signal, tapping the ring head gently to send the return spell, knowing that her ring would be acknowledging his presence even now- perhaps he would have some help in figuring this last piece of the puzzle out after all.
X X X X X X
"Oh, you have *got* to be kidding me." Imoen groaned as she raised her bow in anticipation. "Did we really walk into this? Again?"
"Yep. Looks like it." Greywulf tossed behind him, teeth only half grit as he raised his hands, fingers twitching slightly with the powers of a shield only a power word from materializing.
The six adventures were standing in a circle formation, backs to one another as almost three hundred men surrounded them, some with swords and axes, others with bows, and still more with magics and robes that suggested the powers of the arcane. "I will never understand how you two can make light of these kinds of situations." Aerie noted, doing her best to remain defiant in the face of such overwhelming odds.
"You know how it is... they can smell your fear. Give 'em bad puns and jokes instead, they might just get scared off. Probably not, but worth a shot, eh?" Greywulf replied, eyes flitting back and forth, waiting for the first sign of an attack. Still, despite his words, he really was quite befuddled as to how this had happened. Well, not the exact physical how... that much was clear.
They had left the Pocket Plane after a few more hours of much needed rest, even if none of the underlying issues that had been raised were dealt with. Sarevok was as silent and unreadable as ever, Aerie had remained close to Minsc's side, and Jaheira and Greywulf still were on uneasy terms. Imoen refused to speak to anyone about her actions in the testing room, and throughout everyone and everything remained a hint of mistrust and doubt regarding their emotions, their motives, their actions. Their quest though... that was clear enough. The map Mellissan had provided them with before they had fought Yaga-Shura had labeled an oasis in the midst of the desert south of Saradush that was an important way point on the way to the next two Bhaalspawn. She had promised to tell them where the final members of the Five resided after Yaga-Shura was dead, that she would meet them at the oasis and they would commiserate from there. Whether Mellissan survived the attack on Saradush or not was... uncertain. But they had no further leads, and this was the best they could do. So they made it their destination, traveling out of the ruins and southward until they passed from grasslands to sand, enduring the waves of heat and blazing sun until nightfall, when they transported back to the Pocket Plane to get some much needed rest and water conjured from Greywulf's god-powers.
This cycle had repeated for two days until the oasis had come into view- tucked into a valley of sand dunes, the inviting water was surrounded by a mass of tents and what looked to be a caravan of traders and merchants from distance. As they gazed down upon it at the crest of the overlooking dunes, Sarevok glanced to his brother and murmured, "Traders... or possibly bandits. Looking to take advantage of this refuge from those who fled south from Saradush, taking a bet that Yaga-Shura's armies would not follow into the desert. Be careful if we decide to approach."
"Or possibly Mellissan led a group of refugees from the city down here- I wouldn't put it past her... she's far more competent than she lets on." Greywulf acknowledged. "All right, let's head down there and find out if she's even here. But... keep your eyes open."
Not that it had made much of a difference. Everyone in the caravans, or at least, everyone who had been visible, was cordial, nodding simply when asked nonchalantly about what had brought them this way, and nobody had spoken a word of Bhaalspawn or war or anything that could have tipped them off. That in itself, naturally, should have been the tip off. Perhaps, had they questioned just why this group was so welcoming, they would have realized that it wasn't a caravan, or refugees at all, but an actual army... and they had fallen right into the trap laid for them.
"Bhaalspawn!" The shout echoed from behind the enemy lines, which parted to allow a tall, proud man through. He was clad in helm and full plate armor, his sword hefted in one hand, a shield in the other. The royal symbol of Tethyr was emblazoned upon his breastplate and his shield, and his bearing was that of a noble as he strode proudly to within a few yards of the adventurers he had ensnared. "For that is, after all, what you are, yes? Bhaalspawn? More specifically, the wards of Gorion, yes?"
"And what if I am? Greywulf tossed back, relaxing his stance for a moment to shrug. "Or what if I'm not? I'm quite sure you wouldn't believe me if I told you, 'No, this is all just a case of mistaken identity,' right?" Why don't you skip the questions you already have the answers to?"
The commander of the army paused for a moment, then nodded and smirked. "As you wish. I am General Jamis Tombelthen, representative of the King and Queen of Tethyr. You, Greywulf, and you Imoen, are accused of crimes against our nation and, indeed, all of Faerun!"
"Insignificant puppet." Sarevok sneered, his eyes flashing with disgust and rage. "You speak of things beyond your ken. These so called crimes are nothing more than the claiming of power by one who is beyond you in every way possible."
"Yeah. Antagonize the guy with an army backing him up. Real smart." Imoen rolled her eyes as she muttered under her breath, even as Jamis narrowed his and fixed upon Sarevok.
"You... your visage is familiar, but for some reason I do not remember- by the gods, can it be? Sarevok, butcher of the Gate? The spawn who tried to lead the armies of Amn and Baldur's Gate together in a bloody war? If you stand by the wards of Gorion, then I see no further reason to parley with the likes of you."
"Hold on a moment, General." Greywulf raised a hand, hoping to diffuse the situation before it came down to a brawl- one which, while he and his companions had faced similar odds and come out on top in the past, was not something they were hoping to repeat. "I'm not asking you to trust my word, and I'm certainly not asking you to trust Sarevok- he's here under my command and I can guarantee he won't be doing anything without my express permission."
Greywulf could feel the sneer creep across Sarevok's face with that last remark- he ignored it and kept talking, hoping that the General would be willing to listen. "I want you to think about what I- what we've done. I want you to think about our actions. We saved De'Arnise Keep from Firkraag and his orcs. We killed the Shade Lord at the Temple near Imnesvale. We even helped prevent, as you say, Sarevok from bringing the Gate and Amn into a bloody war that you might not have survived. Whatever things you've heard about me and my friends here... surely it can't be all bad. Surely you know how much good we've done."
Tombelthen paused a moment, frowning at the appeal being made by the Bhaalspawn before him. "'Tis true... you and your kind have proven benevolent in the past, if destructive. But it is in your very nature to murder- whether you believe it to be or not. For what it is worth, I do not relish my task of hunting you and the others down. But I have been given my orders and I shall not be derelict in my duties."
"A trial then? Is that what we have to look forward to? I have had far too many experiences dealing with rigged trials and pre-determined judgments." Jaheira spat, memories of Galvarey and the Harpers assuredly flashing before her eyes.
"Nay... there will be no trial. The Bhaalspawn and those who travel with them are guilty, of that there is no doubt." Tombelthen said firmly, raising his blade again. "We will not risk your further endangerment of us all. The responsibility of Saradush's destruction lies upon your shoulders, and the penalty for this crime is execution, to be carried out immediately."
The sound of metal unsheathing rang in the air as weapons were drawn and brought to bear on both sides, glowing magic at the fingertips of Aerie and Greywulf while the others had blades and bows drawn. "You know what we can do, General." Greywulf warned, hoping that if persuasion would not work, intimidation just might. "We've brought down armies in the past- if we're as evil as you claim, we'll have no problems bringing your little battalion down as well. Stand down, and we will leave you alone... fight us and I will not guarantee you see another dawn."
"This is not right!" Minsc growled, the Vorpal Sword clenched tightly in both hands. "These men are not evil; they do not deserve our boot-"
"They are no more innocent than the wild animals that we defend ourselves from in the plains and woods." Sarevok said with disgust. "If they refuse to flee than they will pay for their ignorance. Do not make the mistake of holding back- I will not forget it if you do, ranger."
"There is nothing you can say or do to dissuade me from doing my duty." Jamis stated, his features unmoving and set in stone. "You may kill me or my men, but we are legion. Eventually you will fall."
His words- so similar to what the Cowled Wizards had said to Irenicus when trying to bring him in amidst the ruin of Waukeen's Promenade back in Athkatla. It seemed like so long ago- and yet, those memories still came back as clear as day. And with them, the impotent rage he'd felt, seeing Imoen stolen away from him then... not this time. This time, if he chose to loose it, he had the power to stop the foolish General and his men. He could transform into the Slayer on a whim and rend them limb from limb, send a clear message to the Tethyrian nobles that he would not be trifled with-
"Greywulf?"
The small, gentle voice of Aerie broke through his rapidly rising fury, and Greywulf gasped for air as he glanced at Aerie- there was fear in her eyes. Fear of him- fear of what he was becoming, what he was doing. She had said it before... Sarevok's influence, his own reluctance to swear off the power of his blood... the fruits of his decisions up to now were finally bearing the fruit she had known would come. It was only then that he realized- the ground was trembling around him, and dark magic was coursing at his hands.
"You see!" Jamis shouted, transfixed by the sudden appearance of such powerful magic, but quickly returning to form. "You shall not taint this land any further- for your homes and families, men! Attack!"
No-! Greywulf felt the power of Bhaal within, screaming to be let out- it was all he could do to twist into something else, force it to take another shape- and before the army could bear down upon them, all six disappeared in yellow columns of light, transported back to the Pocket Plane.
Tombelthen lowered his arm, blinded momentarily by the intense flash, then stepped forward, looking for some sign of the vanished adventurers- nothing but sand blasted into glass from the heat of the magics that had transported them away. He turned, lip curling upward with frustration- "Someone bring me Lady Mellissan!" he shouted, gesturing to one of his soldiers as he sheathed his blade. "Let us pray she can tell us what in the Hells just happened here..."
After a few seconds of waiting, one of the soldiers returned with head low and helmet clutched between his hands. "Sir... I- ah, I'm afraid Lady Mellissan is, ah... I'm afraid she is gone as well. It looks as though a similar magic took her, just as it did the Bhaalspawn..."
Jamis inhaled sharply, his mind flitting back and forth with plans, counters, and strategies. This... ability that the Bhaalspawn had would be most troubling- able to transport himself and his companions from harm's way in a matter of seconds? It would be nearly impossible to trap the god children if they could do this- and if Mellissan had lied to him, if she was still helping them... or if she had been captured somehow? Jamis clenched a fist, then pointed to one of his messengers. "Bring word to our encampment near the northern borders of the desert. Deploy our scouts and spies everywhere- we must find the Bhaalspawn before they can hasten the destruction of Tethyr further."
X X X X X X
In the blackest void of the Abyss, amidst the planes of the ether and in between realities, a star-filled realm floated amidst nothing. All hard metal and rigid edges, like it was made of swords and spears. A giant city that floated alone, dark and disquieting. It had once been filled with the red rage of those murdered, filled with the souls of those who had given their lives for Bhaal, its gates held shut and guarded by the killers and wicked men of the world.
Now... it was quiet. Not a sound in the void as the dark citadel continued its rotation around a non-existent sun. Only one glimmer of sentient life existed in this plane of reality- past the crumbling gates with their ballistae of blood and through the main courtyards of withered and blackened trees, the castle stood tall and defiant, rebuilt as the seat of power for Bhaal's successor... or for the dead god himself. At the top of the tower was a portal, a vortex of energy feeding all the way down into the center of the citadel itself... down into the bowels of the realm where all the essence of the former master resided after being released from their mortal hosts.
At the top of the tower, floating amidst the portal of godly energy, Amelyssan the Blackhearted shook, twitching and flexing as her body reconciled its earthly nature to the god-essence she continued to absorb into herself. The rush- it made her heady, unable to think clearly... if she allowed herself to stay within for too long she would lose her mind to the influx of glorious power. With a great effort, she tore herself out of the portal, collapsing to the stone and steel floor beneath, her armor sizzling with the heat and energy. She looked up with a vicious, hungry smile, slowly picking herself up and striding to the Throne she had erected before the vortex so that she could stare into its depths, contemplate how she would use her newfound godhood when it was all over.
And use it she would... oh, that much was certain. For years, she had slaved as Bhaal's High Priestess. Years spent memorizing his resurrection rituals, years... all for his glory. All for his purposes. And now... so close to fruition. The time was near- there were so few of the god-children left on Faerun- the walls of the lower citadel lined with clay and stone figurines representing each and every Bhaalspawn left alive- their statues had crumbled with each death, and there were so very few whole and untouched. Balthazar. Greywulf. Imoen. Abazigal. Sendai. The ruin of Sarevok's statue had begun glowing for a time, but it was not rebuilt. He was no true god-child any longer... but the others... once their essences had joined the pool, she would feed off them, take full control of this plane and become the new Mistress of Murder.
She would be even more powerful now had it not been for her own foolishness and greed- another reason she refused to absorb too much power at one time. Every moment she was in the vortex, the citadel was closed off, channeling all of the godly essence upward and into her. When Gromnir had died... she had already returned to the citadel and begun channeling the essence of Bhaal, preparing to fight the mad General in case he had managed to kill Greywulf and the others. His essence had entered Greywulf and Imoen, instead of her... she laughed, disregarding the thought. It was meaningless- one spawn's essence, no matter how powerful, would not be enough to grant an advantage over her, and the access she had to so much of Bhaal's taint. She briefly considered stepping in again, becoming more and more powerful... no. There was still much to do- and the taint was good at finding itself. Absorb too much and Greywulf, Imoen, even Sarevok might be able to sense it within her.
Greywulf's decision to leave the battlefield rather than decimating the commander of the armies of Tethyr was... disappointing. She had hoped their skirmish would weaken any outside presence within this fraternal war, but as it stood, they were just another variable for her to factor in. The fact of the matter was that Balthazar would bring the other two members of the Five to the foreground while she led Greywulf to them. Whoever lived, whoever died... it mattered little. Balthazar would be strong enough to crush the victor... until she destroyed him. Oh, how foolish, how gullible the monk was. To think Bhaal's essence could be simply destroyed... the powers of a god did not simply vanish!
Amelyssan laughed, then rested her chin on her palm, tapping gently with her fingers. They were all pathetic- little more than worms, fighting over crumbs of power that they didn't know how to wield in the first place. She was the only worthy successor to the Throne of Blood... and by all the gods above and below, she would have it.
X X X X X X
"You were right."
"Jaheira, I-"
"Do not say you are sorry. I know what you feel about him, and more. Something must change, because we cannot continue like this." Jaheira said sharply as Aerie tried to find the words, but could say nothing as the druid set her spear to the ground beside her pack, Cespenar immediately dive-bombing towards the leather bag, his claw furiously opening as he wriggled inside. Perhaps another time Jaheira would have threatened the imp if he did not show care when rummaging through their belongings, but she was too tired, too worn, and just too damned frustrated to care right then.
"I thought... I had thought we were enough. That I was enough. That if I supported him, that if I showed him I would not abandon him, lose faith as I did when the Harpers accused him of evil..." she began but could scarce finish before her head dropped. There were no tears, no admissions of weakness, just a resignation Aerie had rarely seen in the druidess. "But he has changed, hasn't he... and I do not know when."
"I do." Aerie said, trying to take control and give the woman a focal point for the indominatable will hiding underneath her exterior. "Sarevok has corrupted him, fed him lies and tried to poison him- he can't be allowed to continue doing this!"
"And who do you think will stop me, girl? You? You are nothing before me... none of you are." Sarevok laughed, striding to the two women, both glaring at him with a heat in their eyes that would have reduced him to ash were it possible. "The only one who matters is Greywulf... he *will* take the Throne of Bhaal, I will make certain of it."
"And who are you to say so, little man?" Minsc rumbled behind Sarevok, immediately moving to defend his witch's honor. The ranger's face was dark, grim. He had listened to Aerie's pleas for help, heard her accusations about Sarevok... the Deathbringer was not one of Minsc's favorite people. "Our friend will never give up the good fight! You are an eeevil man who needs to be reminded of who he fights beside!"
"Who am I? Who are any of you?" Sarevok swore at the ranger, looking up at the taller man with disgust in his face. "None of you know the draw, the siren's call of power that the taint brings! You all strive to hold Greywulf back from his true potential, to make him less than he is! If not for you he would be a god by now!"
"And what I am, chopped meat? Don't answer that." Imoen cut in, joining the group as she pointed to the room where Greywulf had, in uncomfortably typical fashion as of late, sequestered himself upon returning to the Pocket Plane. "I'd do anything for him, anything to keep him from turning into you, 'brother'. You think you've got him all figured out, do you? You think that everyone is just like you, out for himself and screw the rest of the world, I'm gonna get what I want no matter what the cost. You're wrong though- you've always been wrong."
"Ignorant musings of a naive little girl." Sarevok waved her off, turning his back to her in favor of facing Minsc and Jaheira, a much more direct threat in his mind. "You will learn the true way of things soon enough- you have done much of that already, if that bit of your soul that resonates within me is to be believed..."
Imoen fumed at his total lack of respect for her- "You think so? Here's something for ya to chew on then. If your way is so great, why is Tamoko dead, big man?"
Sarevok spun on his heel and shoved a finger into her chest, fury abruptly blazing in his golden eyes. "Do *not* speak of her in such a way if you wish to live. I have tolerated much from you but I will not allow such insolence!"
"You've tolerated much?" Imoen shouted back, pushing Sarevok's hand away and shoving him back a step with all her strength, such as it was. "And you think we like having you along with us? After everything you've done? You've been nothing but a plague on us since the day we heard your name! You killed Gorion, you may as well have killed Tamoko and Yoshimo too! I won't let you kill Greywulf too, you bastard!"
"I said-" Sarevok growled, rearing back- "Never speak of her!"
An armored gauntlet smashed into the side of Imoen's face, sending her stumbling and tumbling across the stone floor of the Pocket Plane, unconscious from the sheer force of the blow. Steel rang as Sarevok turned to the others, the Sword of Chaos meeting Minsc's Vorpal sword as it bore down upon his head, deflecting the blow. "I knew from the moment you were brought back to life that this battle would be fought." Jaheira said darkly, retrieving her spear with a darting leap before coming back up on her haunches and throwing herself at the Deathbringer. "Nature, take the life she gave!"
Sarevok pulled away from Minsc, letting his blade drop in time to use it to shove Jaheira's spear to the side as he abruptly reversed direction and slammed his shoulder into her incoming charge, putting her off balance. His sword would have come around to bisect her in the next moment had Aerie not intervened- a sudden blast of light blinded the big man and made him stagger backward for a moment, trying to power through the simple magics. His vision came back just in time to see Minsc and Jaheira approaching from either side- he swung his mammoth sword in a huge arc to keep them at bay, then bull-rushed at Aerie, too fast for Minsc to intercept his charge in time. The Avariel grimaced at the sudden attack- she raised her hands and shouted an incantation, just in the nick of time.
A blue globe surrounded her, sparking with the impact as Sarevok's momentum lifted her up off the ground, into one of the cliffs surrounding the platform of the Pocket Plane. She remained suspended floating in mid-air as Sarevok hacked at the globe, trying to cut through its protections before the others could come to her rescue- Aerie extended a hand as magic began swirling at her hand- a Disintegrate was forming quickly, and Sarevok knew it. It didn't matter if Minsc and Jaheira reached him now, if he couldn't stop her spell in time it was all over.
Aerie's face was a mixture of rage and fatigue- she was just so tired of this evil man. Tired of his taunts. Tired of his attempts to corrupt the man she idolized. Tired of his presence in their party. And if it would be up to her to end his miserable life, she wasn't going to back down- "A broken bird, am I-?" Aerie began to hiss as the spell flashed in her hands, about to reduce him to atoms-
"Enough!"
The commanding bellow echoed through the empty void like it was a cavern, and the momentary lack of concentration caused the Disintegrate to fizzle in Aerie's hands. She inhaled sharply, trying to quell the anger that had built in her petite frame during the short but vicious battle- Sarevok, for his part, had backed off a bit, but whether that was due to Minsc and Jaheira's weapons at his back or due to Greywulf's command, it was not apparent. Greywulf was walking with Imoen from across the opposite side of the Plane, his arm draped around her shoulder as she glared viciously at Sarevok, blood trickling from her nose and her normally rose colored cheek forming a bruise.
"Greywulf, I have allowed this monstrosity at our side, but he has gone too far!" Jaheira protested, keeping her spear at his chest with no sign of lowering it anytime soon. "I refuse to allow his presence to blight us any longer-"
"He stays, Jaheira... and he stays alive as well." he remarked calmly, coolly. Sarevok's face bore the slightest hint of a smile- so the half-elf was finally realizing who was going to be his most valuable ally... he had finally seen the truth after all. It must've hurt his companions so much to hear him fall short of their expectations after hurling them so desperately at him- "He stays alive for two reasons. One, he's a strong fighter and he's the best source of Bhaal lore we've got. Two..."
Greywulf let Imoen go and walked to Sarevok and hauled off, punching him across the face. "Two, because I want you to see just how much you've failed. You wanted to corrupt me. Wanted me to be just like you... and you know what? It almost worked. It would've worked if it weren't for them. I want you to see me do everything you couldn't with the power of Bhaal. That's why you're still here."
Sarevok's eyes widened as he rubbed his cheek- no. "You- you..."
"I don't want to hear it from you, brother. All those speeches, all those rants about how much power I could gain... I'm done with it. Or to put it simply, shut up."
Greywulf turned to meet a smirking Jaheira and a grinning Minsc, putting one hand on either of their shoulders, the two of them doing the same back. "It would seem you've cleared your head, whelp." Jaheira remarked smugly. "We still have much to talk about..."
"But for now, we are happy to know that you are firmly on the side of JUSTICE!" Minsc bellowed with a laugh, Boo appearing from nowhere to scamper onto Greywulf's shoulder as well. "You see? Boo agrees."
He nodded with a smile to both of them and moved to embrace Aerie, the Avariel smiling widely as she wrapped her arms around him tightly- "I'm glad you're back."
"It's been a while, hasn't it?" he chuckled. "Aerie... thanks. You're not the same girl we met back in the circus, that's for sure. I saw the hurting you were about to put on Sarevok... I've never gotten a shield spell to last that long against him. Pretty impressive work."
Gods... a simple compliment from him and it was enough to make her blush all over again. Aerie did her best to keep that from showing and instead chuckled with a quick point at Sarevok's retreating figure, his back to them as he stormed off. "Looks like Sarevok's gone off to sulk where you were hiding the past few minutes."
"Let him sulk." Greywulf said, turning to face the others, Imoen joining the circle as the five stood together, united in both body and spirit once again for the first time in too long. "I've made some mistakes the past few days... I started thinking that I could control the taint, that I could use its power without being affected... I was wrong."
"Words mean very little if your actions do not back them up..." Jaheira offered, her tone serious again, deeply concerned with the behavior of the one she cared about so much. "I want to believe that you are sincere, that you will stay true to what you have said, but this is not the first time you have been faced with this kind of truth."
"And it is not the first time you have nearly fallen to the taint within." Aerie followed up, concern flitting over her elven features. "I think we all- well, with the exception of one- want to believe you'll find a way to keep the darkness at bay, but-"
"But it's getting harder to take my word for it." Greywulf nodded, reluctantly agreeing with a nod. "You're right. We need to find the last members of the Five, we need to get rid of the army chasing us, and Imoen and I need to keep as distanced from the taint as possible. Not an easy act to balance... but I think I have an idea that just might work..."
"I hate it when you say that." Jaheira groaned lightly, pursing her lips. "Whenever you say that it leads into a plan so convoluted that Lolth herself would be pressed to unravel it."
"Only a little." the sorcerer smirked. "Cespenar! Got a question for you..."
"Oh yes! Cespenar is good servant- what do you wants to know?" the imp fluttered to Greywulf's side, bobbing up and down as his wings kept him afloat.
"Sarevok said I could use the power of this place to bring people here- is that right? If so... show me how."
X X X X X X
The thud of his fist impacting against the rock wall was unsatisfying quiet, the only real result being a pain in his hand. Not that he didn't know it would hurt, but the image of the wall being Greywulf's face, or that damned druid, or any of them... Sarevok nearly roared, but refused to give the others the satisfaction of hearing it. How could he have misjudged so much? How could he have ever believed his spineless brother was strong enough to take the power of Bhaal for his own? Pathetic, all of them. He spun and glared at the stairway leading back to the main platform where the five of them remained. Oh, how much he wanted to lay waste to it all, simply draw his blade and do whatever it took to end every life up there. It was nothing more than they deserved for their cowardice, for holding him back like this...
No... he forced his grip on the Blade of Chaos to relax, flexing his hand as his eyes slowly lost some of their golden fire. As much as he wanted to gut them and leave their corpses for the crows... or whatever demonic beings passed for crows in this Pocket Plane, it simply wasn't possible. Not against all five of them. He'd accepted the fact that while he would be a match for one, two, possibly three of them at once, facing all of them would mean his death, without question. They were too well organized, too accustomed to fighting as a unit, one of the few things he admired about their capabilities.
But it was all for naught- what was he to do? Greywulf had rejected the taint once again- and he had a feeling that the half-elf would be on guard against Sarevok's attempts to corrupt him from now on. Imoen was as inane as ever, her presence little more than distraction. How, how could he find the power he so richly deserved? There was, of course, the plan he'd formed upon seeing Gromnir's death... he had yet to test it, and it was still nothing more than an educated guess, at best... but right now, it was rapidly appearing to be his only avenue. His only way out of this insane jail he'd crafted for himself.
Damn them. Damn them for their weakness, for their cowardice. Damn them for wasting their potential, choosing to coddle the weak and neglect their heritage. Damn them for refusing to see the truth so glaringly obvious that every other Bhaalspawn, no matter how weak or un-inspiring, sought the power that ran through their veins. But most of all... above all else... damn them for not having died yet. Damn them for not failing, for actually succeeding in their efforts. If it was all for naught, if they had been unsuccessful time and again and only just barely survived so far, he could deal with that. He could point smugly to their track record and dismiss their feeble attempts at justification for chaff in the wind... but somehow, some way, they'd managed to only survive, but thrive in the process. They'd become big damn heroes... and the thought infuriated him. It angered him... and frightened him.
He inhaled sharply and tried to calm himself, knowing that he would have to face them again and soon... he was not about to be left behind in this place while his brother continued his quest. No... he had to see this through. If only to try and claim the power of Bhaal one final time in a desperate gambit... or if only to understand, just how any of their actions could have succeeded where he failed... he had to see it through.
Sarevok steeled his will and trudged up the staircase leading to the main platform of the Pocket Plane, when the whole cavernous structure shook, a roar of thunder echoing all around him. He steadied his balance for a quick moment, narrowing his eyes as thoughts and calculations ran through his mind. He veritably leapt up the rest of the staircase, hands at the hilt of his sword in case their enemies had found this pocket of reality... and stopped short as he saw the crowd gathered near the gaping maw that served as the exit of their make-shift home.
Greywulf glanced over at the sudden of movement of Sarevok's arrival- he winced and tried raising his voice to be heard over the racket of protests and cries of uncertainty being emitted from all around him and his four loyal stalwarts. "Look, I know this was kind of a shock for all of you- and no, this isn't hell. Well, not really. But if you'll just listen for a moment... I can explain everything. Including why Sarevok is alive and well and standing right over there."
The sudden clamor stopped as all the newcomers turned to look at the mighty warrior, his arms folded as he glowered at them. Some looked at him with suspicion and mistrust, others with cold curiosity. Regardless, mane-dropping the infamous Deathbringer... as well as using him as a distraction, had given Greywulf the opening he needed, and if nothing else the chance to explain his plan... whatever madness it happened to be.
"Anomen. Solaufein. Nalia. Cernd. Viconia... all of you have traveled at my side for a time, and all of you have proven yourself as loyal comrades in battle, if not friends. You have no doubt heard the rumors about me and Imoen... about what we have done and what our actions will lead to, should the Bhaalspawn wars continue. I'm here to tell you that I have no intention of bringing doom upon Faerun... and that to stop it from happening, I need your help."
"No intentions of doom, my raven? How disappointing."
Another voice issued from the portal through which the summonings had occurred- Greywulf spun to see a sixth figure emerge, his gait and face unmistakable, but Greywulf shook his head in disbelief as the tiefling appeared fully. "If I'm not mistaken, Haer'Dalis... you're supposed to be dead."
The tiefling bard laughed, stretching out a hand to shake Greywulf's. "And what is life but a dance with death? Surely you do not claim to be the only who has survived an encounter with the mistress of the night? Do not let my reemergence upon the stage dishearten you, good raven. Speak your peace and we shall fly as our minds do take us."
The sudden appearance had, unfortunately, lost the attention Greywulf had garnered and the uproar amongst the new arrivals was as loud as ever, spread amongst Greywulf and his companions, Sarevok, and Haer'Dalis... Jaheira leaned over to Greywulf and whispered with equal parts humor and disbelief, "By Silvanus, man... what have you gotten us into now...?"