Shards of glass, a prism of alien design, infecting the tone of the world all around her making that which had been solid and tangible mere seconds ago fade like dust in the wind. At first, Nalia had mistaken the sensation for a concussion, brought on by a blow to the head she'd not seen coming, perhaps. There were certainly enough specters, skeletons and wraiths flitting about that she would not have been surprised if one had taken her unawares. And yet, that was not the case- this was something quite different- all the color was gone from the world, gray and drab but all in motion at once. Like a great wind had taken her by storm and robbed her senses of clarity.
A Time Stop, of course. She'd not yet mastered that spell, but it was one she was keen to add to her arsenal. The knowledge that Greywulf had done so before her was vexing to her pride, if nothing else, but the thought only spurred her on, as it had always done. Jealousy, was it? Unfitting for a noblewoman such as her, but the little knot of envy that had been planted upon first needing the help of the Bhaalspawn to save her people had never quite left since that day in the Copper Coronet. She should have been able to help her people- and she'd worked hard to make that a reality from then on. And yet, it still seemed that her powers were always a distant second to the half-elf sorcerer... or the Avariel elf. Or Imoen, the impish rogue.
A low hum began echoing in her ears, though it seemed to increase in pitch, a sharp whine that threatened to deafen her if it continued for long. Could she move, her hands would have been clasped over her ears until it ended- luckily for her and the others, it would be over within another second or two- the grainy texture of the frozen particles of the world began smoothing out, as Greywulf began phasing back into real time, dragging the rest of the world into sync with him. There were several different schools of thought on how the spell Time Stop actually worked- was it speeding up one person so fast that the others looked and felt like they were unmoving? Or perhaps it created a small singularity that everyone on the vicinity was bound to with the exception of the caster, who retained mastery? Nobody was completely certain, but regardless of the reasoning or the mechanics behind it, re-entry was always… rough.
An explosion deafened Nalia as her body jolted forward, the noblewoman planting her hands on the stone floor as it rumbled; the Temple trembled all around her, so many actions performed in so short a time, all igniting at once. She forced herself to look up, to see what exactly had transpired- dozens of magic missiles were igniting against the ethereal forms of their opponents, driving them back for a brief few seconds, while on the altar, the candle they had found burned with holy fire. Greywulf stood at the altar with both hands raised, words echoing through the air atop one another, all having been said at the same time and yet separate as well. To her ears, they were being overlaid and unintelligible- would the Ritual magic truly come and fulfill themselves upon such a re-enactment of the instructions?
Above the center of the Temple Foyer, the bell rang once, twice… three times, too quickly. Far too quickly for what it had been meant, and with the final ring, a long crack began to split across the side of it, while the stone ring that held it in place upon the ceiling crumbled. Nalia briefly heard a shout from Anomen, a warning, but her mind was on auto-pilot at this point. She scrambled to her feet, diving backwards from the bell as it fell to the Temple floor, exploding in dust as the whole room shook with the impact… no. Not just the impact of the collision, but of the ritual's fulfillment. The large seal on the center of the floor was glowing bright blue, the Hand and Eye of Helm filling with light. It faded to reveal a purple haze, mist and magic intermingling in a vortex that drew them in, if not unwillingly. The rest of the specters and skeletons in the room howled with either rage or fear- there was no time to figure out if they would cease their assault. Greywulf stumbled from the altar, drained by the power of his magic- Anomen grabbed the sorcerer by the shoulder, pulling him with Anomen towards the portal, while Reynald extended Nalia a hand, the two of them racing ahead of the others to reach their next destination.
A nagging worry crossed Reynald's mind as he briefly wondered whether or not this new portal would dump them someplace even worse, an arena of mind flayers or beholders perhaps… but there was no time. He felt his body phase through time and space as they passed beyond, the howl of spirits and the rush of wind vanishing as everything went silent. He and Nalia took a few steps apart, whirling back and forth to take in their new surroundings, assess any new threats- but there were none. The portal still swirled and glowed behind them, even as Anomen and Greywulf finally made their own appearance.
"By Helm, have we done it? Are we truly safe from that death-trap?" Anomen gasped, releasing the sorcerer from his shoulder, who staggered away from the portal, trying to raise some kind of defense if need be. Both Anomen and Reynald raised their shields and weapons, taking positions- and yet, none of it was necessary. Nothing followed, and it could only be surmised that for now, they had survived the first challenge of Watcher's Keep.
Greywulf slouched against a stone wall, sliding down to a seated position with a laugh of disbelief. "Anomen, I'm never letting you lead an expedition again."
The squire glanced back at his half-elf companion, only chuckling after a few moments of consideration. "You… are not without reason for such doubt, it would seem. Though I should like to remind you of our investigation of Reijek Hidesman and the tanning shop in Athkatla- it would seem that neither of us are of any use in keeping their party safe."
"Perhaps not." Greywulf conceded, before taking the measure of their new locale. It was a simple room, a large cube, almost, one torch burning eternally on two walls. The wall they'd just passed through still maintained the portal- a way out, at least, should they need it, though what awaited them on the other side might be as terrible as when they had left. And on the opposite wall- a massive wooden door, barred with large metal slats and rods, with a symbol of Helm imprinted on each door.
"And that would be the way to our next destination, I suppose." Anomen sighed. "I should think some rest and tending of wounds may be in order before we gather ourselves to venture forth. I imagine that our two mages would appreciate the opportunity as well?"
"You would guess correct, I think." Nalia nodded, moving to seat herself aside Greywulf. "It will take time to memorize the spells we'll assuredly need to survive this place. And sleep, while not exactly easy to come by in such a place, might be welcome."
"Heh. As if I could sleep after such an adrenaline rush. Still, your words have merit, my Lady." Anomen replied, seating himself across the room from the other two, joining Reynald as he slipped his family shield from his arm and laid it in front of him, still within easy reach should things go poorly. He let his mace down with a 'clunk' of metal on stone, the light glowing off the head of the enchanted weapon lessening without his hand to guide the tool in battle. He let the back of his head rest up against the stone behind him as he stripped off one gauntlet, running his hand across his face in a vain attempt to rid it of some of the dust and grime.
"I doubt we'll find a bathhouse anywhere within these catacombs. It'll be some time before we're fit for polite company again." Reynald noted, glancing at Anomen with a hint of a smile.
"Hah- true enough, I suppose. Old habits, I guess." Anomen chuckled, letting both of his hands rest in his lap, knuckles still whitish from having been gripping his mace so tightly. "The other squires and knights of the Order gave me no end of grief for my insistence on keeping my armor polished."
"Hah. I remember it well- always so particular." Reynald barked a laugh, though he quieted quickly. "I was not… with the Order very long after you became a squire, I do not think."
"No… no, I suppose not." Anomen mused. "I… I must have seemed ridiculous to the paladins and knights of the Order. This new squire, keeping everything he owned polished and gleaming day after day, never allowing a scratch to show through."
"You seemed no worse than any other of the new blood the Order trained or accepted." Reynald shrugged. "Perhaps the chip on your shoulder was a bit large…"
Anomen laughed, nodding in agreement. "Yes, yes… I cannot argue with that. It is, in fact, much of why I acted as I did. Much of why I became a squire in the first place. I cared far too much of what others saw of me, and not nearly enough of what they thought of me. I was proud of what I had accomplished, of what honor I could bring to my family, despite all my father's wretchedness. It was something I had dreamt of since realizing how low the Delryn name had sunk. I was determined that the Delryn name would mean something again."
"Which would be what… a shiny suit of armor?" Reynald arched an eyebrow, to which Anomen could only shrug in response.
"As I said… how things looked seemed so very important… I needed to show everyone that I was just as good, just as competent… it all seems so very long ago, thinking of it now. So much has changed since then." Anomen sighed, shaking his head. "Father is dead, and Helm help me, I cannot bring myself to shed tears for his passing. All his life his drunken words haunted me and pushed me onward, promising myself that I would prove him wrong. I sought glory, and have found it, in a small manner of speaking. It is not quite as fulfilling as I had originally dreamed."
"Such selfish goals never are." Reynald agreed, adjusting the angle of his scabbard so that he could still draw his blade if need be while they rested. Neither spoke for a time after that last word by Reynald- if his statement had drawn offense from the man beside him, he did an admirable job not showing it. Perhaps there was still a hint of animosity between the two- if so, it would not be surprising. Their paths were hardly dissimilar, but the key difference between them was that one was still in the Order… the other was not.
"So what drew you to the Order?" Anomen finally broke the silence, his voice even and calm. "I should hope your reasons were less selfish than my own."
Reynald hesitated for a moment, as if considering how much of his former life he wished to share. It was not something he shared with many willingly… though it seemed that the people he surrounded himself with these days already knew of his past indiscretions. The Bhaalspawn and his party that had pulled him from the ranks of the Fallen Paladins… the city guard, keeping him at arm's length for what he'd done in the past… even Anomen, whose condemnations could still be heard if he tried to remember hard enough.
A subtle clearing of the throat from Anomen made Reynald realize he'd left the question hanging in the air for too long- he inhaled for a brief moment, then made a decision. Secrecy be damned. There'd been enough of that in his life. "It was… not something I chose, so much as I fell into it, I think. You heard it- hell, you lived it. The Order of Radiant Heart is a legend, Anomen. A mythic tower of righteousness and valor that all little boys and girls grow up hearing about, dreaming about. A place where no evil goes unpunished and the only reward necessary for a good deed is the knowledge that justice was done."
"Heh… it does sound rather unreal, when you say it out loud, doesn't it?" Anomen murmured. "Still, there were those who lived up to the legend, weren't there?"
"A few. Not many, but a few." Reynald admitted. "Your mentor Keldorn was one of the exceptions- I trained under him for a short time, but he was never around at the Order Hall as often as the other senior paladins. Always off questing, fighting for another cause he found worthy. No time to sit and reflect upon his own grandeur and legend. Perhaps an example for the rest of the paladins to look up to?"
"You seem somewhat bitter towards the Order- I had thought you long since past any harsh feelings." Anomen noted, brushing aside the uncomfortable fact that he had felt similar bitterness toward the paladins of the Order, if for different reasons. Their standard was… difficult to live up to, and it was only in the most recent of months that he'd ceased trying, and simply set out to be the best man- knight, Helm willing- he could be.
"I do not believe I shall ever completely forget my time spent in those hallowed halls- nor the humiliation I felt upon being ejected." Reynald mused, feeling the tightness in his chest that always arose at the thought of his past life dissipate- perhaps he was moving on after all. "Do not mistake my own inability to forgive as an indication of belief in my own innocence, nor my bitterness as a lack of faith in the ideals of the Order. I know the wrongs I committed, both leading up to and after my expulsion. I recognize that in the end… I was not a fit man to stand alongside the paragons of our age. Better men than me should lead the people, inspire them- that is why I joined the Order, if you wish to know. I was inspired by the stories of the paladins of old, slaying beasts and defending those without the means to defend themselves. I wanted to be that inspiration to others as well."
"To be an inspiration is not an unworthy state, Reynald." Anomen offered. "Without the examples of our betters to look up to, we know not of what we can truly achieve."
"An unworthy state, no, but an unworthy goal… I think so. It is a paradox- one I could never reconcile. To become a living legend, one cannot aspire to it, lest the pride take you, as it did me…" Reynald trailed off, but Anomen distinctly heard the closing words in his own thoughts. And as it nearly did you.
"We have more in common than either of us might like to admit, I think." Anomen smiled, and let himself relax for the first time since the conversation had drifted into the realm of the Radiant Heart. He had not even noticed how tense his body had become, all over a simple conversation? Unusual… perhaps it was the fact that for all intents and purposes, he was looking into a mirror- one that could just as easily have been his path, should he have allowed himself to falter in his road. Although perhaps it would be more appropriate to say, should he have met less worthy companions that had allowed him to falter on his road. Was that truly the difference between him and Reynald? The influence of Greywulf, Minsc, Imoen and Jaheira and all the others that had helped guide him along the way?
"You may not be a living legend as you had once dreamed, Reynald… but neither are you a wicked man. Everyone makes mistakes… it is how you respond, how you pull yourself onward afterwards that defines you. I think you have done well for yourself, if those words mean anything coming from a member of the Order."
The slightly jesting tone in Anomen's tone was enough for Reynald to return the smile; he nodded, then crossed his arms over his lap. "They do, I think. I am glad we had this conversation. I shall think better of my time in the Order in the future, perhaps. And when this is all over… mayhap my time in the city guard may be as well. If I am to truly leave behind the baggage of my old life, I should find a new world, where nobody knows my name. Something to think about… to aspire to."
As the squire and the guardsman ended their conversation, slowly drifting off to a rest they desperately needed, Nalia watched the oaken doors that separated their small group from the second level- at least, she presumed it was the second level- of the Keep. Time and space seemed to stretch in different ways within this fortress- part of its creation by Helm, no doubt. Just how large was the inside of this place, then? If the rules of nature no longer applied within, their exploration could take a very long time…
"You seem nervous, Nalia." Greywulf offered, his knees tucked up to his chest as he held them in place, arms wrapped around himself. It was a position Imoen adopted more often than not when they were resting at camp and soon enough, he'd found himself doing it as well. One of those sibling things he'd never quite grown accustomed to, he supposed.
"Are you surprised?" Nalia nearly laughed aloud with skepticism. "You saw what we just survived above- or is it behind us? Regardless, as much as we need rest, I cannot say I shall feel safe anywhere so long as we remain within this place."
"Your point is well taken, though the adventuring life tends to dull that sense of immediacy, I think." Greywulf noted, letting his legs free to stretch out as he brushed ashes and cobwebs from his robes, remnants from their battle fought such a short time ago. "You take your sleep where you can get it, consequences be damned. Not to say a lookout wouldn't be useful. I can take first watch if you like; we can trade after a few hours? I'm sure neither Anomen nor Reynald would mind taking a shift as well."
"It would certainly ease my mind… I had once researched what kind of ingredients it would take to cast a spell to provide solace in the night for a solid eight hours- I rather lost interest in its workings once I took over my father's responsibilities." Nalia mentioned.
"Hmm. That would be handy, I agree. I suppose ruling a small kingdom of your own would tend to strip away a lot of the free time on your hands, wouldn't it?" Greywulf chuckled. "Quite frankly, I'm surprised you've come as far as you have in your magics since we last met- it's only been… what, a year, at most? Not to say the potential wasn't there, but usually, advancing so far in so short a time requires a dedication and commitment few people have."
"Perhaps, but having the coffers of a small kingdom, as you say, can do wonders for purchasing what might otherwise be unattainable." Nalia replied with a knowing smile, even as she twisted the ring on her finger. Truth be told… it *was* impossible. Gaining the power she sought, enough to oppose the Twisted Rune… it would take years and years, time she didn't have, time where she'd be forced to buy her people's safety and freedom from mercenaries instead of defending them as she should have. Unacceptable. Completely unacceptable.
"Is that why you came to Watcher's Keep with Anomen, then? I believe you made mention a while back of your desire to find a few magical trinkets within this place… is that your whole motivation in this affair? Looting the dungeon, so to speak?" Greywulf asked, his question surprisingly pointed.
"You make it sound as though I have no loyalty to you or the squire sleeping across from us." Nalia snorted. "Your aid saved my life and that of my people, and I owe you a debt that I intend to repay- this mission you seek help for, defeating the remaining Bhaalspawn- it is a worthy goal and I will see it done by your side. But to do so, I require power, and I will have it, from whatever means necessary. Artifacts such as this tome of golem summoning are just a taste of what lies inside this place. I intend to make as much of it my own as possible. Adding such power to my own ability… the De'Arnise lands will never be threatened again, not so long as I draw breath."
Her words were… surprising, to the half-elf. She had never been quite so forceful, so ambitious in the past. Before, her primary goal had been the safety of her father, of her lands. Now, it almost seemed like that was a simple byproduct of the power she intended to wield… a dangerous road that led to terrible fates for many wizards who overextended their reach. "Fair enough- if that is truly your intent, then please allow me this bit of advice- do what you will with it, but let me have my say, nonetheless."
Nalia nodded, allowing the wizard to speak. He inhaled sharply, wondering if it was his right to say these things. She was nobility… but she was also a friend. Besides, he'd never been one to stand on ceremony. "You speak of magical items, devices to increase your power- but such things are never handled easily. Wands, even tomes of summoning are easy to master, easily bent to a mage's will, but the things we may find below… they could tear your very soul apart if you are not careful. You have shown yourself a remarkable mage, learning so much and gaining power so quickly in such a short time, but do not let your pride cloud your judgment- as you say, your lands need you. You would be a far better ruler alive than as a lich."
"Is that your fear? You think me mad enough to try and defy death itself?" Nalia laughed aloud, fixing Greywulf with a confident stare. "I am… grateful, for your concern, but it is unnecessary. Magic flows in your veins as well as mine… you know the power that we wield, the allure of its call. Could either of us have come this far without mastering it within ourselves first? Get your rest, Greywulf. I shall take first watch tonight instead. Tomorrow we delve into the second level of this Watcher's Keep- I welcome the sight of it."
Greywulf looked at her features a moment longer, then nodded and tucked himself down upon the ground, leaving Nalia seated alone, awake, and unquestionably more frightened than ever before. He had been far too accurate for her tastes… could he sense the weakness inside? The inadequacy, the true lack of skills that she tried desperately to hide?
For all of her 'power', it would only take one man, even a friend like the Bhaalspawn, to see through her ruse and then all of it would be for naught. She twisted her ring again, adjusted her robes, and rechecked the buckle on her belt, forcing herself to remain calm. All she needed to do was play the role of an archmage long enough… and soon enough, it would no longer be a role. Just a little bit longer.
X
"Traveling west, then south and back through the desert will almost certainly take us into the path of Tethyr's army again. But Amkethran is based upon the side of the mountain pass that borders the desert. If we can master the slopes of these peaks, we can cross the border and reach the city without worrying about any of Jamis' men." Cernd spoke as he pointed toward the top of the peaks that overshadowed the four travelers. "Minsc? What do your ranger skills tell us?"
The ranger peered at the cliffs before them, the high craggy slopes and the paths that scant few had traveled in the past, so difficult and treacherous were the footholds and landings. His eyes discerned the viable spots to climb, his skills picking out which places could actually sustain their party. He smiled, pointing out a few spots, laying out a path for the group to start on, though Aerie found herself drifting away, paying little attention to the words of the Rashemani.
Truth be told, Aerie would normally have been intent upon listening to her ranger protector, always a voice of… perhaps wisdom was not the correct term, but clarity, maybe. He was someone whose worldview so very rarely changed and made it easy for her to do the same. But Aerie was in no mood for such reflection- not while the memory of so much death rang clear in her mind. Not that she was any stranger to death or devastation these days. Saradush was a smoking crater, one she'd witnessed firsthand. She'd killed dozens while traveling with Imoen and Minsc- some by way of sling, others by quarterstaff, but most of all by sorcery. Fire, lightning, ice and wind- she'd commanded a mastery over all of them at different times, and many had come up short when measuring themselves against her. Why did this last battle cut her so deeply?
Was it the number of people slaughtered? The sheer volume of lives that had been lost? No… they'd fought larger battles in the past and it had made little difference to her then. She'd rained molten lava on dozens of orcs at a time when they fought to make their way to De'Arnise Keep, a year or so back. The fact that it was human lives, rather than monsters, perhaps? No… her time spent on the road had shown her just how monstrous the so-called civilized races could be. It didn't take scales and a snout to make a monster out of someone.
Aerie barely noticed the small rockslide she started upon taking the slightest of missteps as they trekked up the steep mountain pass, but she nearly toppled backwards until she realized just where she was. A quick rebalancing of her weight and all was well, but the near miss had not gone unnoticed by her companions. "You would do well to watch your step, child. T'would take us another hour to go back down after you if you tumbled all the way back down to the base of the mountain, no?"
Aerie glanced behind her, eyes widening in surprise at how far they'd climbed without her even noticing. The air was beginning to thin, just slightly- Aerie returned Jaheira's bemused smile, waving her onward. "I… thank you for that observation. I'll do my best not to slow anyone down then."
"Such talk!" Jaheira rolled her eyes, letting a questioning gaze fall upon the Avariel for a moment as she waited for the elf to gain strides, finally even with her on the mountain before continuing the trek forward. "You sound as though you are back in those first weeks of traveling with us."
"Baervan forbid the thought…" Aerie whispered under her breath, just loud enough for Jaheira to hear it, though the slip was most certainly intentional. The druid let out a rare chuckle, then nodded, using the shaft of her spear as leverage to help her maintain balance as she climbed a particularly difficult stretch of path.
"That is more of what I expected. A quick rejoinder- and perhaps a reminder that the old days were not as easy or carefree as nostalgia would have us believe." Jaheira said with a nod. "Now then, if you wish, I would lend an ear to your troubles. Your countenance betrays your melancholy- 'tis rare to see you without a smile. You even give Imoen a challenge when it comes to being insufferably upbeat."
"I take that as a compliment- I think." Aerie replied cautiously, "My mind wanders back to our fight outside the village- we killed so many of that mob… their deaths weigh heavily on me, though I do not understand why."
"Is it so hard? I would have thought that you of all our companions would understand the tragedies of life lost." Jaheira replied quietly. "Sometimes the balance requires that blood be shed, and I have no qualms over the killing of those whose actions have demanded it. I have even relished the taking of life at times- but it is never easy to witness slaughter."
"Slaughter? Is that what you call it, then?" Viconia laughed, the other two women looking to see the cloaked drow standing above them, having paused on the trek upwards to listen and join their conversation, invited or not. "Your prejudice blinds you. That was not slaughter, it was justice."
"Was it? Killing those who had no chance of survival is not something to be lauded." Aerie replied with a frown, shaking her head. "There were ways of pacifying them that-"
"Do not waste your time trying to argue with Viconia." Jaheira muttered, pushing herself forward in an attempt, however unsuccessful, to step past the drow and avoid any further debate with her. Not that she expected Aerie or Viconia to let it go- nor could she, truly. "She knows little of morality or balance, despite our best attempts to educate her."
"I have killed men for speaking about me in such a dismissive way." Viconia snarled- no matter when or where, throwing the two of them into the same group led to argumentation- sometimes violent- after a short period of time. "You talk of justice? Morality? Those villagers would have burned me at the stake for simply existing. Do you presume to side with them over me?"
"I would never presume anything when it comes to you." Jaheira retorted, before glancing back to Aerie. "But she and I were talking, and you saw fit to intrude where your attention was not wanted, or welcome. We will continue our conversation at another time, I think."
"I can speak for myself quite well, Jaheira." Aerie called out with folded arms, blue eyes narrowing. "And I do not side with those people we killed. If you… truly were attacked by them, then they deserved some measure of punishment for their crime. But there other methods-"
"Naiveté… how charming." Viconia sneered. "Let me tell you something, darthirii. If you had chosen to incapacitate those people, before I'd had my fill of vengeance? I would have slaughtered them regardless. They made their choices. I will not feel any sort of regret at ending their lives, regardless of their skill or fanaticism. Maybe someday you will learn how the world truly works, little girl."
Aerie's face flushed hot with frustration- as much as she'd convinced herself that the opinions of others mattered little to her, enough goading and she'd still start to take it more personally than was wise. Jaheira had begun treating her with respect a while ago, and she'd damn well earned it. Sarevok had pushed her, and she'd shown him just what she was capable of. Now this drow was going to begin? Oh no. She clenched her fists, climbing to face the bemused drow at an equal level. "Just because we fight against monsters does not mean we need to behave like them. That's not who we are."
"Is that so? I am shocked you have survived so long with such an innocent view of the world. But perhaps I should not be- gods know that Greywulf has a track record of dragging fools in his wake. Although perhaps he keeps the two of you around less for your personalities and more for your other, more physical benefits?"
As the eyes of both Aerie and Jaheira flashed with anger, Minsc glanced back at the three women, voices beginning to rise, and echo across the mountain side. He sighed, glancing down at Boo for a bit of advice. Two squeaks later, he nodded, turning back to the path, keeping his eyes on where to take the party next. Perhaps it would be best to let the three of them alone for a while. Getting involved could be… messy.
He sighed, choosing instead to continue keeping watch, even if it also proved an opportunity to take in the sights around him. He let himself smile for a moment, despite the consistent shift of grass and greenery to the mountainous terrain they ascended, there were still a few patches of wildflowers and shrubs that reminded him of the nature he seemed to miss more and more of as their path took them further down the war path. Boo's squeaks caught his attention- he glanced at the small animal and nodded eagerly. "Flowers are beautiful, aren't they, Boo? I wish there were more to see."
Perhaps Cernd had thought Minsc was speaking to him, or maybe he simply appreciated the nod to his domain of choice. Regardless, he smiled and turned to the ranger, linking eyes with him for a moment. "I see you have an appreciation for the small things, Minsc. You see the power in their simple nature."
Minsc laughed, shrugging with contentment. "I don't understand much that is complicated, but the trees and the flowers are music to my eyes. Boo prefers the calm of the forest, though he suffers my company."
"Ah, you are his tree amidst the cities and people, and despite your bending and bowing in the wind, you are his stability, as I suspect he is yours." the druid chuckled, leaning over and extending one finger to Boo, the hamster sniffing gently at his extended digit.
"No… he is my hamster. You talk in circles, Cernd, but that's okay. Boo runs in them." Minsc replied, eliciting a full laugh from the normally stoic guardian of nature.
"It is… good to travel with those outside of my circle again, at least for a time." Cernd noted, wrapping his furs around him a bit tighter to shield from the cool mountain air. "There is a time to travel amidst the pack, and a time for acting as the lone wolf. But to find a new pack, ones who do not conform to your accustomed beliefs and traditions… it can be refreshing."
The raven haired druid paused for a moment to breathe deeply- perhaps not due to exhaustion from the climb, but to simply reflect and meditate on their current situation. "This… battle. The people we have found ourselves entwined with… do you regret it at all?"
"Regret?" Minsc arched one eyebrow, shaking his head firmly. "May it never be said that Minsc would shirk his duty to those he calls friend! Boo would nae show his face were I to do something so dastardly!"
"Hmm." Cernd smiled, before adding, "Note, my large friend, I did not question your commitment to what has happened… but if you had regrets about what might have been."
The distinction between the two may have been lost on the simple ranger's mind, a point which Cernd had considered but at least felt the need to express. But the contemplation on Minsc's face told a different story, one that indicated he at least was considering what the druid had asked him "Eh… there are things Minsc wishes could have been different. Dynaheir… Khalid… friends who I might've protected, had things been different. But my answer is still no. Minsc fights for right, and there is nothing more right than what Greywulf and Imoen and all of us do here. Minsc regrets nothing."
Cernd remained expressionless for a few moments, then let a grin blossom across his sharp features. He slapped one hand across the large ranger's shoulder pauldron, nodding in approval. "Then you are in balance, large one. Jaheira told me I would find your company refreshing. She was right, as always. It shall be a pleasure to travel at your side, I think."
Minsc glanced behind him to see Jaheira, Aerie and Viconia still exchanging vicious glares, but it seemed Jaheira had noticed the small conversation between the druid and ranger- she gave a nearly imperceptible nod of approval before being goaded by another comment by the drow- right back into the verbal fray, it seemed.
"Always right… if not always even-tempered, though I should hardly find it surprising." Cernd mused, looking back at the others with Minsc, even as they continued climbing. "Jaheira never had an easy time finding peace when faced with conflict. I often wonder if my cursed blood has given me a greater insight into controlling my passions."
"Cursed blood?" Minsc asked, his curiosity piqued. "You should speak to Aerie! She is very good at removing curses… eh, mostly. There was one time with an eeevil little man named Ployer that she could not help, but that was a long time ago. She has gotten much better since then."
"Were it so simple." Cernd chuckled. "The power to transform into a wolfwere at will is no small feat of discipline- in part, I became a druid in hopes of learning nature's path to conquering this wretched beast within me. But, as with nature itself, the key lies in not conquering, but co-existing. Bending the will of the beast towards the light, countering the shadow nature within."
A skid of rock crumbled down the hill as Cernd finally reached a mark where they could see between two of the mountain peaks, a thin passage that was perfectly in line with the curvature of the mountains themselves. To a trained eye, one could look through the thin cloud cover and spy the glint of clay, brick and glass way off in the distance, built into the base of the opposite side of the mountain range. "Amkethran, is it? I do not relish returning to a city soon, but there is a time for all things, yes? I hope we-"
Cernd paused for a moment, his senses immediately going into overdrive as his body froze, breath halting, every human sound deadening to his ears. Minsc was saying something, and there were still comments being tossed back and forth by Aerie and Viconia, but… somewhere, *somewhere*, there had been a sound… a roar, echoing through the heavens? He let his druidic training take over, forcing everything else down, channeling all five senses into one.
The sound of air being displaced by the fast beats of wings. Serpentine forms knifing through the clouds. Hot breath, sprinkled with gouts of flame, lightning and ice crackling in the high mountain air. Scales shifting against one another. "Cernd?"
Minsc's question tore the druid back to reality- his head snapped to look at Minsc, Cernd's eyes wide, his face hard as stone. "Minsc, find us a path upward and over these peaks, quickly. I will roust the others- we cannot tarry. I fear that we are no longer the only ones heading to the fortress in the desert."
X
The outer edge of the forest was far too bleak a place for any normal travelers, especially in the current condition of the lands of Faerun. Yet, for those looking for trouble… there were certain advantages to be found. Cover, shade, ample firewood at night… and plenty of vantage points to watch for enemies. Imoen peered out into the darkness, watching for any signs of movement in the lands they'd just crossed upon leaving the desert. If she squinted her eyes and let her imagination run wild, she could almost make out the blurring mirages coming off the heat of the desert sands, just a speck in the distance now.
It was an odd zone of the world, at least as far as the climate went. A desert stretching alongside a mountain range, leading to plains and then a forest after several miles trek. Some claimed that the disparate terrain was due to the gods' fickle personalities, that they'd had an argument when designing that part of the world, or at least changed their mind several times. Regardless of how it had occurred, the sudden change was welcome- Imoen found herself much more at home in the shadows, as did Solaufein, no doubt. Imoen loosened her grip and allowed her weight to bring her in an arc to peer into the forest instead, the one handed grip she was holding onto one of the smaller trees keeping her planted with one foot in a swiveling perch while Solaufein stood below, about ten or twelve feet to the ground.
Haer'Dalis and Sarevok were seated around the campfire, the bard stirring the contents of a tin pot that was suspended over the flames, sniffing once before wrinkling his scarred features with disgust. He dug into one of the numerous pockets of his vest, dug out several sprigs of berry and vine, then tossed them into the pot, watching them slowly disappear within the bubbling broth.
"I have yet to find the foul stew that a hint of mulberry and nightshade would not cure." Haer'Dalis sighed, glancing at the Deathbringer who sat across from him, his features warping and flickering in the firelight. "Would you agree, my hound?"
"I am not your hound, bard." Sarevok's voice issued from the darkness like gravel, his face strangely dim with his eyes closed. "Your tendency to name those you travel with by animals is almost as annoying as your attempts to goad me. You did not put nightshade into the stew, t'was a root you pulled from a weed two hours past. If you had indeed tried to poison us, your head would be adding flavor to the soup right now."
"Hahaha! Ah, straight to the point then, is it? Very well then, *hound*. I knew another so-called villain who also denied any attempts to burrow into his mind and uncover the story beneath- the mad mage Irenicus- my encounter with him was not one I'd consider pleasant, but the chance to tell the tale was almost worth it."
"Would that he had ended your life there and I could have been spared this inane drivel." Sarevok groaned, one eye flickering open, the golden color glowing in the dark.
"Ah… but he did, if Aerie's tale is to be believed, is it not? My death at the hands of the traitor Yoshimo… servant of the Shattered One." Haer'Dalis replied easily, leaning forward to let his blue hair glimmer in the flames. "Perhaps I shall relay the tale of my survival someday… though I would be much more inclined to answer a story with a story, hmm?"
"That might be true if I had any interest in speaking with you at all. Which I do not." The Deathbringer growled, his glare as hot as the fire, even if Haer'Dalis remained unfazed.
The bard only laughed, and then peered quizzically at Sarevok. "Do not be so glum! There is much mirth to be found in the glory of tales and the thrill of battles, whether fought by sword or by limerick! Surely you would not begrudge me the attempt to learn another tale to tell across the lands? And why should it not involve the Butcher of the Gate? Tell me, then, if you will. Surely a man of your experiences can grant this poor bard some story to relay to the masses? A web of intrigue on your path to seizing the Iron Throne, perhaps? The climactic showdown between brothers, Greywulf and Sarevok, a battle to the death!"
The guttural snarl that issued from Sarevok's throat turned into a roar as he pushed himself to his feet and cracked his knuckles. "I shall give you to the count of five to cease your incessant prattle, before we find out just how well you speak without your teeth. One… four…"
Solaufein smirked as he watched the color drain from Haer'Dalis' face, Sarevok slowly sitting back down as Imoen leapt from the tree, landing in a crouch beside the drow. She bounded back to a fully standing position as she swept her hands off on the seat of her pants. "Well… that was fun. Always did like climbing trees, y'know?"
"I do not, as a matter of fact… there were no trees in the Underdark to climb." Solaufein deadpanned, eliciting a laugh from the thief-mage who slugged Solaufein in the arm playfully.
"Yer getting good at this! Heh. S'good to be traveling with you again, by the by. We missed having you along." Imoen smiled as she stretched her back before leaning against the tree. "How was Letherel?"
"I… am glad, as well. To be traveling with you again, I mean." Solaufein remarked, tilting his head just enough to be able to see Imoen from within his hood. "Dianya's sanctuary was… peaceful, and I was glad for the opportunity to find my own purpose while there. I might've stayed longer, had circumstances allowed for it."
"The world has a funny way of messing plans up, don't it?" Imoen chuckled. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, though. I've never had a chance to spend much time there- Greywulf promised me he'd take me back once this whole thing was over, but… well, like you said. Circumstances change and all that."
"I imagine you and the other children of Bhaal understand that fact better than most." Solaufein noted. "I am… surprised that your mortal enemy remains at your side. That you resurrected him in the first place. To allow such a dangerous foe to remain at your back is a folly that I would have advised against, had I been there."
"Yeah… Sarevok's not exactly what I'd consider a friend, you know? And I know he doesn't want the same things that Greywulf and I want… but he's part of this, whether we like it or not. And I'd rather have him fighting with us instead of against us…" Imoen shivered unconsciously as she gazed at the Deathbringer, seated once again, eyes glowing like fireflies in the dark. "Still creeps me out though."
"You need not fear him." Solaufein's voice was a bare whisper, hardly audible, silent to anyone but her. "I shall keep watch- if he desires to harm you or anyone else, he shall have to pass my blade first."
"Aww. That's sweet of you, but you're starting to sound kind of like Minsc." Imoen smirked, craning up on her tiptoes and giving the drow a small peck on the cheek. "And I'm no damsel in distress… usually."
"I… would not make that mistake, I think." Solaufein replied quietly.
They stood watch together in silence for a few moments longer, before Imoen yawned loudly. "Yeesh… it's been a while since I've been on a long wilderness march like this. Makes me think of when we were on the run outside Baldur's Gate. Not exactly fond memories… it'd be nice to not have to do this stuff ever again, y'know?"
"Ready to retire from the adventuring life already?" Solaufein inquired, blinking as he let his crimson eyes adjust to the dark again after gazing at the campfire. "I had not thought you the type to settle down so easily."
"Settle down? Pfft, not likely." Imoen snorted. "But I could do with less of these overnight marches and life-or-death sibling blood matches. Always liked the sound of Waterdeep. Makes me think of… swimming."
"Swimming?" Solaufein asked slowly, one eyebrow rising in disbelief. "Your plans after this war include… swimming."
"Why not?" Imoen laughed, shoving Solaufein lightly. "What about you, huh? When all this is over, when we've taken care of this Bhaalspawn mess, what do you think you'll be doing? Settling down in Letherel again?"
"Perhaps, but I had considered simply… traveling with you and the others again, if you would have me." He replied slowly. "You and the others are… friends. My only ones, possibly. Traveling with people you can trust implicitly… it is an addiction to one such as me, I think."
"An addiction, huh?" Imoen smiled. "That's one way to put it. Getting addicted to booze might help you live longer though."
"There! That's them!"
A shout caught the attention of the four companions as several magical flares launched into the air, courtesy of several cloaked mages that were pushing through the tree line behind them, no doubt a signal to the rest of the Tethyr forces nearby. "Hmm. Speaking of decreased lifespans…" Imoen muttered, taking several steps back toward the campfire where Haer'Dalis and Sarevok were already roused, Sarevok's blade already coming from its sheath.
"Hey, remember what we said." Imoen warned the giant warrior. "No killing. Wouldn't want to make it too easy on Sendai and her forces, right?"
"Hnh." Sarevok grunted. "And having the full might of Tethyr bearing down on us will be much better, I'm sure. We should get moving. The campfire drew their attention well enough- no need to tarry any longer. Their mages will contact Jamis' main horde, and they'll be on our trail soon enough."
"Maybe." Imoen frowned, drawing a glowing red arrow from her quiver and nocking it to her bow. "But like you say, let's keep them back a bit. 'Greywulf'?"
Haer'Dalis smirked and swirled his hands as fire grew between them, Imoen drawing the bow all the way back- a fireball erupted before the scouts of Tethyr, blocking their passage as a fire arrow set another tree alight, threatening to set the whole forest ablaze- it would add to the ease of those seeking to find the altercation, but keep their immediate pursuers off them for a few moments. The mages would surely have to take time to stop the rapidly growing fire, and their warriors would not dare pursue without magical support.
Watching their handiwork with satisfaction, the four of them turned and bolted further west, slipping into the forest proper with nary a look behind them. "I think we've got their attention now!" Imoen shouted to Haer'Dalis as she vaulted a fallen log, sliding over the top and landing in a run. "Anyone got any ideas on part two of this master plan?"
"You mean drawing the forces of Tethyr into battle with Sendai." Sarevok called back, barreling through the underbrush and tree branches in the way of his massive bulk. "You said it best, back in the desert. The Bhaalspawn can sense one another, especially as we draw nearer in proximity. Any use of the taint itself, tapping into its true depths of power… it will be like a siren's call to anyone with the blood who is actively seeking their kin. It will be upon one of us, sister, to truly draw Sendai in."
They continued running for a bit longer, silent other than their labored breathing. Still, the implication was clear, as was the responsibility that lay upon Imoen's shoulders. Calling Sendai in was the last part of the trap to be sprung, but to actively draw on the taint, to fully embrace it's power, let it thunder wildly instead of bottling it away… it was not something she was comfortable with doing. If Sarevok were capable of doing it… but no. The portion of the taint indwelt within him now was so miniscule that its full strength was needed simply to sustain his mortal shell. Using it to call in Sendai was not an option… and that left only one other capable of the task at hand.
A vision of the Laughing Death came unbidden to her mind again, but she pushed it away immediately. Greywulf had done it. Transformed into the Slayer, mastered the power of a Pocket Plane… Sarevok had channeled the power of Bhaal into the Sword of Chaos, giving his very weapon the touch of Murder. If they could do it… so could she.
Imoen paused a moment, the others slowing to watch her as she clenched her fists, steeling her courage and gathering her willpower. "Time to light it up, huh? No time like the present…"
"Perhaps we should wait until we have gathered a touch more distance between us and the Tethyrians, my wildflower…?" Haer'Dalis began, before being hushed by Sarevok.
"Quiet, bard. She gathers the power of Bhaal to herself… I doubted I would ever see the day. Let us see now whether she can actually command it…"
Imoen's face contorted as her body began to convulse, a red haze beginning to form in the air around her. A voice began echoing in her head, crawling from the depths of her psyche and soul, emerging from the darkness she'd chained inside her so long ago. Let me out, Immy…
A gasp of breath burst from Imoen's lungs as she clutched at her chest, clawing at the elven mail she wore underneath her tunic as though trying to get something evil out of her. This was so uncharted for the rogue- all this time spent pushing the taint down, burying it under cheer and sweetness, never giving it the light of day. Every carefully constructed barrier she'd put up in her mind was coming down, and facing what lay inside was going to take all her strength to overcome, to control. Her eyes blazed open, blood beginning to trickle from the corners of them and down her cheeks as she trembled… "Immy… time to let me have a turn, hmm?"
"No…. no no no no s'my body my world just need you for a moment just a moment no more than that-Don't kid yourself, Immy, you've needed this for a loooong time- no I don't I know I don't just a little bit-more like a lot, let go Immy, trust me, the things I'll show you, you won't ever want to be in control again…" Imoen whimpered as she clutched herself, power fluctuating around her.
"Imoen!" Solaufein's voice was barely audible, the clash of wills inside Imoen coming to a head as she threw her head back, an unearthly howl booming from her mouth with light that blinded each and every onlooker…
As their vision returned, Solaufein lowered the arm he'd raised to shield himself to see Imoen staggering to her feet, nearly falling until he caught her, holding her up. "S'done… I think… I think she knows we're here." Imoen whispered to Solaufein. "Gotta keep moving, right? Lots of drow… mind flayers too. Whole damn Underdark will be coming up to kill us here… if the army behind us doesn't do it first."
"So you survived… I am impressed, sister." Sarevok grunted with a nod of approval. "You may be worthy of sharing our father's blood after all. Come, there is little time to rest. 'Greywulf', lead the way."
Haer'Dalis nodded and thrust himself forward, taking point as they delved further into the woods, Imoen slowly shrugging off Solaufein's shoulder to walk under her own power once more. She barely said a word, but the weariness in her eyes gave way quickly to… something else entirely. Imoen laughed quietly, under her throat, a chuckle from deep within. Solaufein's keen ears caught it, as he remained by her side as they ran. "Are you… are you well, Imoen?"
"Hmm? Oh yeah, right as rain. I just… thought of something funny, that's all." Imoen flashed Solaufein a grin, the drow slowly nodding, concern still evident on his dark features.
Concern. Heh. Concern for her. The thought made her want to laugh again. As did most thoughts, really. Like the thought of slaughtering her sister, this 'Sendai.' And then the rest of the Five. And then, when it was all over, guiding a blade across Sarevok's throat and watching his neck burst open like a fountain. And then maybe Greywulf-
Imoen gasped, shaking her head at the horrifying thoughts that had crept into her head. Was she…? No. She was still in control. Imoen. Her. Not… her. She kept moving, her mouth suddenly dry as the desert they'd left a day ago… never realizing that only now, were the whites of her eyes slowly returning from the ebony void they'd become just a few seconds ago.