Wars of the Bhaalspawn Chapter 38: Part 2: Watcher's End, a baldur's gate fanfic

Jumping from one plane of reality to another was not, in any stretch of the word, 'pleasant'. More so the opposite, truth be told. Depending on the method of transportation, it could be more or less so- for example, the thought-spawned transportation to Greywulf's Pocket Plane, while bone-chilling as the essence and soul were transported into the Realm of Murder, for the most part it was quick and painless. The Planar Sphere adventure, as Greywulf liked to call it, had been something far easier than most- shielded from the majority of the effects of riding the Planes while inside the Sphere, the only effect any of them could truly claim to have felt was the slightest of tingles across their skin, like a limb that had fallen asleep or a bit of static electricity playing with their senses.

Neither Anomen nor Greywulf allowed the rough transition from the last floor of the Keep to this final locale cause them to cry out, or to show pain or discomfort. The sudden drop from midair, leaving nothingness itself to enter a city of scars was not enough to break the spirits of the two thrust into the lowest piece of hell they'd been to yet… but the scars of their soul, the burden upon their spirit was getting to be too much. There was only so much either man could take- and their shoulders grew tired. The burden grew heavy… so much the more now that there were only two to bear it.

Anomen felt the air within his lungs forcibly erupt as he hit the ground, armor clattering as he shielded his face from getting struck with… what was it he'd landed on? Something had crushed under his weight, and the clattering was familiar, but the shock to his senses made his memory a touch slow… his eyes were faster- he looked up, squinting in the starlit fields- bones. Crushed bones and rusty armor, for miles and miles around. Rubble, once mighty stone walls but no longer, mere ashes as the remains and debris of a battlefield stretched out before him in all directions, lit only by a clear, starlit sky far above with no moon in sight.

Greywulf spat with the dust that had forcibly found its way into his mouth, scraping the remnants of bone meal from his face and robes, the gray tones shaded with white dust now. He pushed himself to his feet with the quarterstaff of air he'd scavenged earlier… taking in his surroundings, the entirety of death as it stood all around him- as it had done for him ever since discovering his heritage; a lesser man would've been overcome and nobody would've blamed him, given everything that had happened. Instead, the half-elf simply turned to Anomen and inhaled sharply, ignoring the tightness in his throat and spoke, "This is it, right? The final level of the Keep… just need to find this damned 'Imprisoned One' and we can get out of this forsaken place."

"Something like that." Anomen replied quietly, understanding intrinsically what Greywulf was attempting to do- small talk, something to draw his attention, give him something to focus on. Something other than the loss of half their group, of half the people under *his* command. It didn't work… but he couldn't fall apart, not here. Not in a place like this… "There must be something down here… this place looks as if it has been the site of many battles… wars, even. Mayhap we will find our final destination here amongst the dead… though perhaps we should look for another symbol of Helm. 'Tis the signal fire we have sought in every conundrum thus far."

"True… though I'd rather we find our way out of this graveyard fairly quickly." Greywulf murmured, glancing to their left, then right, on guard for a clattering of bones or an onrush of wind to signal an army of undead coming to life around them. Perhaps it might've been considered paranoia, but for those as experienced as he and the squire… perhaps not.

The two men ventured forth into the dusty battlefield for several minutes, the only sound that of the bones crunching underneath their feet- despite all the reasons they had to fear reprisal from the long-dead, nothing came. No bony hands grabbed at their ankles- no clammy bodies rose from their slumber to attack those still drawing breath. Fog seemed to roil from everywhere below their ankles as they continued to sweep through the battlefield of the dead, only pausing every so often to try and regain a sense of direction or try to find a monument, something to draw their attention. Unfortunately, there was little to give them relief- no familiar stars in the sky, no landmarks to really light or direct their path, only the remains of the dead as far as they could see. The only sound that either man heard was their breathing and crushing of bone with each step- the sheer solitude and oppressive nature of this level of the Keep was almost too much to bear-

A blazing light shone on the horizon of their vision; even as the two men struggled to peer into the light, it seemed as though the source grew closer- yes, it was not stationary, not a lighthouse in the distance but a moving beacon, a shape slowly growing distinct as the two men stopped, raising their weapons to guard just in case… but that would prove useless very quickly.

Before them, a halo of light still nearly blinding the two, a glowing blue figure floated to the ground, enveloped in white robes and golden armor- a Planetar of the gods, clad similar to the protections that the Solar who had visited them previously had worn. She was not as tall as the Solar, though she still towered over them; her wingspan was shorter, her sword not burning as brightly as the Solar. Still, there was no mistaking her nature, nor the power she exuded. She floated to a halt, the golden boots clacking lightly against the broken bones and rusted armor as she rested upon the ground, glowing yellow eyes meeting the two men as she spoke. "Greetings, travelers- you are the first to have stepped foot this deep into Watcher's Keep in over a thousand years. I commend you on your determination to have made it this far."

"What… what is this place?" Anomen managed- his voice wavered, and Greywulf could not tell what from- nervousness at the majestic, angelic creature before them? Trepidation, at finally coming so close to their goal? Or worry, that the fate of Nalia and Reynald would befall them here as well? He could not say- but the angel gave them little time to reflect.

"You seek answers… to have come so far, you certainly have earned them." The planetar spoke, gesturing with her blade as the light from her presence illuminated the devastation all around them. "These long dead… this is the remnant of those warriors, adventurers, looters… every man and woman who dared challenge the sanctity of this place, who thought to come and breach that which Lord Helm had long since sealed. This is what remains… look upon their corpses, upon what was lost by so many."

The planetar paused for a moment, as though to let the import, the magnitude of what she was putting on display sink in. The halo fluttering over her burning hair seemed to pulse as she spread her wings, letting her voice echo over the entirety of the void, booming like that of a goddess. "Think now, ye who have come so far. Think on what the fate has been of those who have tried what you attempt now. Only those who seek the will of Helm will be allowed to progress to their final destination. If you would turn back, abandon your quest and escape with your lives, then now is the time. Say the word, and I shall return you to the world above."

The planetar raised her sword, then slashed it downward as though cutting the fabric of reality itself- it seemed so, for a tear appeared in the dark, exposing a world that seemed like a memory long since forgotten- the verdant forest, the dust flecked sunlight and glimmering dewdrops of the lands bordering the Watcher's Keep. To know that an escape from the horrors they'd been witness to in this forsaken place was so near… the urge to step through and leave it all behind was nearly unbearable. Of all the trials they'd faced so far, this was the one that tore the most at their willpower, that might bring their quest to its knees. Greywulf tore his gaze away from the portal to freedom- to look at it, to imagine a way out was too much for the sorcerer right now. Already his thoughts drifted to seeing his loved ones again, to embracing Jaheira and seeing Imoen, and hearing Minsc's voice- no. It couldn't be about that right now. Distractions got you dead.

Anomen's fist clenched, but his gaze was stone. If he wanted to take the planetar's offer, if he wanted to abandon his oath to the Order… he did not show it. Greywulf felt a hint of surprise as the squire's voice rung out, no quavering, no sign of indecision. "Never. Our goal is to bind the Imprisoned One- of all my deeds, of all my successes and failures, I count none as important as this. I can speak only for myself, but I make it clear, angel… I will not be moved from my task."

The planetar smiled, her expression bringing warmth in its wake as she graced the squire with a bow. The celestial turned to Greywulf, her questioning expression returning as she gestured toward the portal, yet remaining before them, inviting and clear. Greywulf bowed his head, resting on his quarterstaff as he let a weary smile cross his features. "I'll be honest… I can't think of anything I've wanted more than to walk right through that portal and get out of this place. And in another time… maybe I would. But Nalia and Reynald… they deserve better than that. I'm not going anywhere."

The planetar bowed her head, then waved her azure colored hand, the fingertips dragging a veil of reality over the portal, leaving darkness in its wake. Still, she did not lower or sheathe her blade- instead, the angel swept herself into the air with a few flaps of her majestic, feathery wings- hovering a few feet off the ground, she swung her blade down to point at the newly tense adventurers, her voice booming and imperious as she spoke. "You have chosen your path- prove to me that thou doest the will of Helm. Only those ordained by the Watcher will reach their goal within this place- 'tis my sword that opens the seal to the Imprisoned One! Either prove to me the sanctity of your mission, or try and take my sword by force!"

Anomen glanced at Greywulf, the sorcerer finding his mouth dry in spite of himself. The seal of Helm that the Knights of the Vigil had given to them before entering- surely that was the proof that the planetar desired to see. At least, he prayed that it was so. The squire inhaled slowly, undoubtedly feeling the same tension that Greywulf felt- neither had expected to be standing at the tip of a celestial's blade, but here they were. They'd both faced more enemies than they could count- this would be one that neither had ever faced, nor wanted to have faced, for that matter. Anomen's hand gleamed with sweat as he raised the seal of Helm high, presenting the slate gray disc to the planetar- the blue-skinned angel examined it for a moment, before her eyes flared, her sword floating from her fingers and moving to hover before them. "It is enough."

The planetar closed her eyes and began floating higher and higher, light blasting down all around her as the sword she held thrust itself into the ground, splitting the earth and revealing a stairway downward, deeper and deeper into the depths. The two adventurers gazed in awe at the heavenly weapon as it revealed their final destination, only remembering to look up at the rapidly disappearing planetar as it spoke, words rippling out and dissipating as quickly as its physical form. "Helm thanks you for your sacrifice- know that your deeds here will be remembered in the annals of Mount Celestial."

The light, as sparse as it had been before, seemed to vanish even more, leaving the two men in complete and utter darkness, with only a single beam of light shining down upon the stairway that lay before them. Anomen walked to the stone stairway, beginning to descend the steps- Greywulf followed close behind, glancing behind them as though a fearsome beast might come from the inky blackness that surrounded them, though from everything they had undergone so far, it was not necessarily a paranoid gesture. The path was straight- for once, there was little decoration, little sense of the grandeur that had been so widespread throughout all the rest of the Keep. The only thing that broke the monotony of the descent was torches lined on the stone, enough to light their path and keep them from stumbling. There, at the last, they came to it- a final portal, glowing dark crimson with a smell like sulfur and brimstone coming from within.

Anomen paused, looking at the boiling, roiling surface, like a vertical pool of fire that awaited their entry. He turned to Greywulf, all the weariness and all the exhaustion coming through in his bearded features. "This… this is it, is it not? The final leg of our journey… I cannot help but wonder if it was all worth it."

"We can ask that question after we seal whatever this 'Imprisoned One' is back in this hellhole." Greywulf said, raising a hand to take hold of Anomen's arm. "I know what you're thinking… what you're feeling right now. I've felt it too- losing friends in battle isn't easy, but when you're the one who's supposed to be leading them… you never get over it, not fully. But you can't let that consume you; there'll be time for grieving later… right now, make it into something you can use. Focus it, direct that anger. Whatever we find on the other side of that portal is responsible for their deaths, not you."

Anomen listened, but said nothing- he merely glanced upwards at the archway that stood above the portal- Greywulf noticed it as well- what looked like an arch at first was in fact part of a statue that overshadowed the entire portal- two long, stone tentacles flowed downward and over from behind the portal- the form that grew such tentacles was invisible to them, but the detail on the stonework was precise and exacting- they could see small scales and spines growing from the arch. The squire tightened his shield and pushed on through the portal- Greywulf followed close behind.

In the darkness of the Plane of Murder, the howls of murderous creatures echoing all around her, Imoen found herself alone… barely conscious… what had happened? She remembered so little… so little of everything, lately. Her memories were jumbled, hazy things. The last thing she had remembered was… what was it? Fighting, naturally… always fighting. It seemed like she hadn't stopped fighting in so long, hadn't had any sense of peace in years… but there had been a stop. Just briefly… just long enough for her brother to… Imoen's eyes flashed open, anger twisting her normally kind features as she remembered the searing pain, the grievous injury- she dropped a hand down to her belly in reflex, expecting to find a massive wound, blood pouring from the Deathbringer's blow- but there was nothing.

Imoen sat upright, her fingertips brushing the rocky ground, giving her pause as to examine where she actually was. She brushed her hair aside and glanced around the room- ah, now it was clear. The outer rooms that enshrined Greywulf's Pocket Plane… the shimmering wall of magic that walled it off from the rest of the Realm made that clear enough to her. She'd certainly spent enough time trying to peer through the barrier haze before to remember what little she'd been able to make out on the inside. But why, how had she gotten here? Where were the others- a blinding flare of light caused Imoen to raise her hand in protection, trying to shield herself as she reached for a magical defense of sorts- it was quickly apparent that she would not need it. The Solar descended upon her, blinding in power yet comforting in its presence. The blue-skinned angel let the tips of her golden boots scrape the ground as she landed, looking down upon Imoen with a smile.

"I greet you once again, god-child." The Solar's words were like a ripple across the surface of Imoen's mind- she could barely stand upon hearing them, yet she could scarcely stand it when the celestial stopped speaking. "The second of your revelations await you."

"I… where are the others?" Imoen breathed, feeling sweat pool on the back of her neck- "Solaufein, and… and Haer'Dalis, and…"

"Your brother? Sarevok?" The Solar finished, noting her hesitation in speaking the man's name, as though by merely acknowledging him the Deathbringer would appear. "You fear him… rather, you fear the force he may yet become. That he may yet take the role that he sought for so long."

"No. Not while I'm still breathing." Imoen growled, tightening her fists. ":He nearly killed me back there- I won't give him a second chance. Once I get back I'm gonna show him what an arch-mage can really do-"

"Do not be so hasty in your cries for vengeance, god-child." The Solar cut Imoen off, shaking a finger as though rebuking a child. "The end approaches swiftly- the destiny of the Bhaalspawn is nearly upon you and Greywulf… but not upon Sarevok. He yet remains tied to you- but only in your gift of a soul-shard. He is no longer a Bhaalspawn, despite all of his efforts and schemes. In the end, he is still nothing compared to you."

"Hmm. Heh." Imoen snickered, laughing at the Solar's words. "Wish he could'a been here to hear you say that. Bet he would've popped his lid… but why didja bring me here? Why me, and not Greywulf or any of the others? The last time this happened was… one of the remaining Five were killed, weren't they?"

"You are correct, god-child." The Solar replied, her wings drawing in to tuck behind her back, like that of an eagle perched in her nest. She stepped forward, past Imoen to the rocky, red-veined wall that surrounded them. "Greywulf is… beyond my reach. Sarevok's path to the glory of Bhaal has been cut off by another, though it is not my place to say who. The time of education is upon us… but you are the only one to whom I may freely speak. Thus, you were called."

"And… all of this, I s'pose is your doing?" Imoen gestured to her stomach, holding up the shredded fabric of her black tunic and the punctured elven splint mail, revealing her bare stomach but showing no wounds, no sign of Sarevok's terrible betrayal. "Guess I owe you a thank you then, hmm?"

"No need for that, child." The Solar shook her head, long orange hair fluttering from under her blazing halo. "The fate of the Bhaalspawn is mine to deliver- and I will answer my duty as best as I am able. No harm shall come to you until the appointed time- when that time comes, guard yourself, and remember my lessons well."

Without warning, the Solar drew her blade, then thrust it into the massive stone wall, shielding Imoen from the outpouring of lava and murderous power that rushed from the wound in the world. The Solar grunted, bracing her feet as she turned the sword, digging further, further… the red mist dissipated, turning into a golden oval of glass upon the wall, a god-mirror that reflected both the Solar and Imoen, though Imoen could sense it as she looked upon herself… she was seeing more than the present. More than the past… the future? All of time, in one glorious captured moment- she had to avert her eyes, for the magnitude of what she gazed upon was too much, far too much for any mortal mind to comprehend.

If the Solar noticed her apprehension or her struggles, she did not say anything. She simply turned her back to the mirror and gestured towards it with a gauntleted hand while she spoke. "Have you never questioned your origin, as you might question your future? Do you truly believe that beings with godly power have no sense of themselves, or put no reason to their actions? As a being such as yourself grows in power, the universe strives to teach and make them ready. Choices will have to be made. Be unprepared and you will have an eternity to regret. I have explained these things to you and Greywulf already and I will repeat myself no further... listen and learn, or do not. As you wish."

Imoen nodded, trying to make sense of the enigmatic advice, such as it was- she wasn't normally in the business of taking warnings seriously- it simply wasn't her style. That was usually Greywulf's job… but he wasn't here. And if this war between the Bhaalspawn didn't' end soon… maybe it would be up to her to put this destiny business to rest. Imoen swallowed, trying not to let that particular lump sit in the back of her throat for too long.

"This time we are not concerned with your past, god-child. Now we will look at your present. The prophecy proceeds towards its climax, as I am sure you are well aware. Your place in this prophecy is what is in question, perhaps. For so long you have been willing to sit in the shadow of your brothers… first Sarevok, then Greywulf. Yet the world itself could tremble under the power of a new mistress of Murder, could it not? You have as much claim to the heritage of your father as any of your brothers- of all the Children, you have resisted the call of blood for the longest."

"Heh… wish that was true, but I don't think you're right." Imoen smiled weakly, rubbing her eyes as she tried to block away the thoughts of what she'd done… who she'd been over the past few days, or in another life entirely. "I know all too well what's waiting inside of me if I get a bit too murder-happy…"

"Do you?" the Solar asked, one feather thin eyebrow arching upon her shining features. "Let us speak with one who knows more than either of us about what lies within you… and what your role in the battle to come may yet be…"

The solar gestured toward the mirror, and Imoen found herself drawn to it again… except this time she could not look away. Her gaze was transfixed… and as her eyes widened, she understood. It wasn't simply all time that was lying before her. It was all of reality. The multiverse itself, every possible reality that could be or could have ever been lay before her like a book, like a spider's web that just kept spinning on and on, into infinity. Images blazed across the mirror's surface as steam began pouring from the glass, hotter and hotter until finally- a sound like shattering glass snapped Imoen from her trance as a figure leapt from the mirror, landing before her and the Solar- Imoen's throat dried up as she realized that standing before her was… herself. Imoen… but not the Laughing Death that she feared so much. Not a younger image that only served to remind her of a more innocent time. This Imoen looked so similar- her features were a bit more haggard, a few more lines that spoke to age creased her smooth cheeks, and if Imoen wasn't mistaken, there was even a hint of gray beginning to seep into the tips of this girl's pink hair… but the twinkle in her eyes, the creeping smile that sat on the edges of her lips, the cock of the hips as the woman exhaled, looking upon Imoen with a knowing smirk- Imoen couldn't bring herself to speak.

"Heh. I remember that feeling. It'll pass in a few, don't worry about it- guess it's that time, is it?"

"Indeed." The Solar smiled, gesturing to this new doppelganger of Imoen, floating back to give the two of them full view of one another. Imoen's twin was dressed in black leathers, wearing a hooded cloak with a purple inner lining- her wrists were wrapped up and she was wearing high leather boots with padded soles. A scroll case hung from her belt, as did a long short sword that glowed with numerous enchantments- throwing knives lined her right hip, and a lockpicking set hung on her left thigh. Imoen glanced down at her own accoutrements- they were nearly identical, aside from the cloak and the damage to her own armor. "You are given an opportunity to answer the questions that have plagued you for so long, that have haunted you as you walked in the shadows of those you considered greater than you… speak, god-child. Answer yourself."

At first Imoen was unsure who the Solar was speaking to- the other version of herself tapped her foot, then nodded to Imoen, shrugging her shoulders. "I've already been through this little game… it's your call to ask what you will. Hope yer as smart as you are pretty."

Imoen snorted, shaking her head in disbelief- "Okay… guess I'm supposed to ask you about the prophecies and what role I get to play in them? Go on and give me the bad news then- I've never wanted to be a part of this whole 'destiny' business that the Bhaalspawn are stuck with. I'd prefer to find my own way in this world."

"And yet, destiny may not always be avoided," the Solar pointed out, her piercing gaze drifting back and forth between the two of them. "If you are to have a say in which path is taken, listen as you speak."

"Hey! Thought this was my time to be the bringer of prophecy and all that rot." Imoen's twin said, looking slightly miffed at the Solar's interruption, before turning back and grinning at her other self. She strode forward and reached out, fingertips brushing Imoen's face- she smiled gently, nodding with what looked like approval. "So... guess I get to be the one to bear the news this time around, huh? Makes sense… y'see, I learned about the prophecy of Bhaal this way once too. Only makes sense that I'd get to do it myself in the future. Heh- though I don't remembering looking so pale… guess this would be right around the time that Sendai bit the dust, wasn't it? Or was it Abazigal? It's been so long…"

"I don't understand…" Imoen managed, before her other self snickered, gesturing back to the mirror.

"Of course ya don't! You're looking into the very fabric of *being* here- took me a while to get it, but this… what you're looking into right now is the essence of all that we are. All that is or will be… you're looking at *story.* And me… all I am is one outcome of that story."

Imoen smiled as she looked upon herself from so long ago, still so young and embroiled in the battle for the Bhaalspawn's future. "Worlds are so fluid- they can all be rewritten and anything can happen. In some worlds, you and I are so similar that it'd be impossible to tell us apart. We fight alongside Greywulf or whatever Gorion decided to name him, and together everyone gets a happy ending! Other times… well, things don't go as well. Sometimes Sarevok wins it all. Other times we get eaten by wolves outside Candlekeep. Sometimes we never meet at all- sometimes Jaheira is the one who dies, not Khalid. Sometimes we don't travel with Minsc and Dynaheir, but Branwen and Safana! Can't you see- this, all of this, is *story*. And it keeps getting written, over and over and over again. We're just one possible outcome… and that's why it's so great."

Imoen paused, taking a breath, the excitement in her voice palpable as continued, taking herself by the shoulder as she pointed out events in the mirror beyond. "Look- see, that's where I come from. See? There's my sister- yep, no 'Greywulf' there, I grew up with another gal and we were inseparable. She ended up with Anomen a while back- not who I'd have picked for her, but what do I know? And over there… that looks like a world where you- well, I suppose me, and the others took on Irenicus and Sarevok without a sibling, but none of this 'Laughing Death' yer all hung up on. And there's one where it's just you and Aerie, the two of you against the world- look, you see what I'm trying to tell ya?"

"I… I think so." Imoen squeezed her eyes shut, trying desperately to keep the visions from overwhelming her. Everything was possible, everything that could happen… had happened. All of this had happened before, again and again… sometimes with different outcomes, sometimes the same. Irenicus had won. Irenicus had failed. Greywulf… or Khan, or Riordan, or Mashkra, or Rolanna, or Jess, or any of another dozen wards of Gorion had journeyed with her into the depths of hell and come out on top. Or they'd failed. And that path lay before her right now… "You're saying that in the end… we're what connects it all?"

"Exactly." Imoen nodded, flipping her hair out of her eyes- precisely, Imoen noted, the same way she had done herself just a few moments ago. "Y'see, the prophecies about Bhaalspawn and us bringing ruin to Faerun and all that… sometimes we're the ones who cause it, not gonna lie. But other times we help stop it. The point is, that we're the ones who choose how this all ends. You, Greywulf, even Sarevok sometimes… we three are the catalysts. The worlds- at least all the ones I've been privileged to see, all revolve around us. We exist to bring about an end to the prophecies, one way or another. Jaheira, Minsc, Aerie… they're closer to the center than most, but they're not at the center. They orbit us, just like Jan, Korgan, Viconia, Edwin, Yoshimo… and so many others."

Imoen glanced at the Solar, then nodded, smiling sadly as she-both of them- realized that her time was drawing to a close. "This all seems so important right now, and it is, don't get me wrong… but there's so much else to be seen, to be explored out there in the multiverse… and the events of the Bhaalspawn wars are just a drop in the bucket. You just see about surviving this battle and coming out on the other side- whether that be as a goddess or just lil ol' Immy, you make it out alive, ok? The multiverse can always use another one of us, right?"

Imoen laughed, then waved, stepping backwards into the mirror before vanishing entirely from sight, leaving the shining portal to vanish and leave the Solar and Imoen in the midst of the chamber of fate, just the two of them once more. The Solar turned to face Imoen, stretching her wings as she raised both hands as though they were scales, balancing the weight of fate and destiny upon them. "You have been counseled by your own self- you have been given sight into the nature of these events, your place within them, and even into the world entirely. Not every soul gets such an opportunity. This room of the Pocket Plane is yours to reflect upon, god-child."

The world rippled around her, shaped by the taint in her blood and the impact it had on her psyche- all the world became as glass, three faces staring at her from either side. In one, she saw herself as she had been moments ago- older, perhaps more powerful, but with all the scars and wisdom that had come with it. Another face was her as she had feared for so long- dark circles under her eyes, a mad grin and insanity in her leering gaze. And yet another… simply Imoen. Her own, true self… all three moved and reacted to her as she walked through the room, the Solar's gaze following her with her every step. "I… thank you, solar." Imoen turned to face the celestial. "I… I suppose you'll be sending me back to the others now? This whole destiny thing doesn't seem like it's going to wait for me, does it…"

"No… no, destiny waits for no man, or woman, as the case may be." The Solar smiled, leaning down to take hold of Imoen's hand- her own fingers looked like that of a child in the grasp of the Solar- but she felt a warmth enter her as the magic of the angel prepared to transport her back to reality. "Your blood brought you madness before you came here- in the presence of Order, in my presence… its effect is lessened. I give you fair warning, god-child- you will be spared no such temptations by the taint when you return to the mortal plane and leave my presence."

"I… I understand." Imoen swallowed, inwardly preparing her mind for the burden she would have to bear in moments. "I'd hoped… well, thought maybe I'd gotten rid of her. You know, *her*. Inside my head… guess that'd be too much to hope for."

The Solar paused, her teleportation magics halting for a brief moment as Imoen glanced at the Solar with a questioning gaze. The angel answered her query, asking quietly, "Tell me, god-child- do you imagine this part of you, this 'Laughing Death' to be the full manifestation of your taint?"

Imoen hesitated- she nodded, unsure of what the Solar was getting at. "Of course it is- I've seen what it can do. What it did to an entire world… I hafta fight against it all the time, every moment, now that it's woken up inside me."

There was silence for a brief moment- the angel said nothing, but Imoen grew nervous at her guide's sudden quiet- just as she was about to ask the Solar another question, the Solar smiled, then resumed her magics, whisking Imoen through space and time itself in the blink of an eye. "Perception is not always truth, god-child. Guard your heart, but do not be afraid to look deeper… for you will be forced to see what lies beyond in time."

A chill rushed through the bodies of Anomen and Greywulf as they stepped into the final chamber of Watcher's Keep- whatever they had expected to see, it was most certainly not this. From everything they had been told, the sight that they beheld was somewhat… anticlimactic. No cage, no chained beast that thrashed and roared before them. They stood within what looked like an ancient chapel of Helm- at the top of a double staircase, descending on either side of the circular room. Pillars lined the walls, supporting a domed ceiling with stone panels and artwork of the gods themselves that stared down upon them as though in judgment.

In the back of the room was a large statue of Helm, his sword raised high- from it dangled several chains, all lying upon the ground with open shackles… but no creature within. The cobblestone floor was bare, coated only with a thick layer of dust that had sat for millennia, undisturbed. Above the statue of Helm was a bell, ringing back and forth, its chiming echo haunting in how rhythmic and constant it remained- no visible force kept the bell ringing, yet it remained, unceasing and unending. Anomen glanced at Greywulf, gesturing at the inscription splayed out upon the walls.

Beware, o mortal, and heed these words

Keep well the ritual, and still shall sit the bell

But, should the Imprisoned One break his bonds,

This bell shall ring out warning to Helm.

He shall know thou has failed in thy duty

And His anger will burn like the midday sun.

"Greywulf… my insides clench and a chill runs through my body. There is something… something here. I can sense its presence, but… Helm preserve us, I do not know what to make of it. So powerful… ah!"

Anomen staggered backward, nearly falling down the set of stairs behind him- Greywulf reached out to catch him before his own mind rippled with intrusive power, nearly doubling him over as well. The sorcerer leaned over, clenching his head- just as quickly as it had entered his mind, the presence was gone, an alien force that had dug around in his head for a brief moment, now withdrawn but not gone, not in the slightest. It was still out there- both of them could feel it.

The half-elf grimaced- moving to Anomen's side as the two drew weapons, slowly descending the stairs to the bottom of this abandoned chapel- whatever had turned its attention to them remained, but did not invade their thoughts again so quickly. Rather… it spoke… as much as it could be said to have *done* anything. Both Anomen and Greywulf felt the words form in their minds, rumblings in an ancient tongue that somehow made perfect sense to them both. "I am the Imprisoned One. You intrude upon my solace, mortal."

Greywulf meant to speak, to call out the being they'd been seeking for so long- Anomen beat him to the punch, the squire spurred on either by fear, or anger- fear at what this creature could be, could do to them… anger at what had already been lost. "Get out of our heads, demon! Show yourself!"

Impressions assaulted both of their minds briefly… a knowing amusement combined with bitterness and images that their mind's eye refused to recognize and turned away from. Deeper impressions instilled a sense of one name that the being preferred...one that applied to both Anomen, Greywulf, and itself: prisoner.

"I think the time you've spent down here has gotten you a bit confused- we're no prisoners, creature." Greywulf tried to summon an air of confidence, the familiar cocky tone to his words, if only to throw off his opponent. Somehow… somehow he could tell that nothing he said would faze this being, whatever it was. It was, in fact, all he could do to keep his nerve… something was very wrong here… prisoners? Impossible. "What do you imply?"

A sense of power seemed to hum throughout the chamber, but this time it was restrained- instead of feeling as though ice water was being poured directly into their minds, it was only the slightest tickle, like spiderwebs in their hair or a slight breeze wisping across their faces. It was a sense of respect, perhaps, at their willingness to listen- followed swiftly by anger, and outrage. The direction was not towards them though- Greywulf frowned as he tried to make sense of the emotions rising within him that were not his own- there. They were directed… at Anomen? No…. not Anomen. Helmites. "The Knights of the Vigil?"

Anomen whirled to gaze at Greywulf as the two of them felt the same story unfold in their mind- the same tale of deception. A bitter purpose, a sinister motive, as those dour men in armor who lurked at the top of the tower unjustly imprisoned the creature below- a sect whose worship of Helm was nothing more than a falsehood, a cover to keep the true followers of the god from discovering just what they had done in the Watcher's name-

"Lies!" Anomen shouted, breaking free of the contact with the Imprisoned One as he drew his mace and hefted his shield, as though expecting a demon to burst from the ether with his decision. "The Knights of the Vigil have guarded this place for over two thousand years- the tales of the battle for Watcher's Keep have been passed down as legend! Helm himself stood here, fought against your evil, demon! I care not for your lies, nor for what manner of beast you are! I know only this- Helm imprisoned you here in this place, and here you will remain!"

If the two of them expected an outburst of anger, a mental attack like that which they had experienced before to flood their minds, drive them to their knees at the challenge from the squire, it did not come. Instead, echoes stirred within their minds as the presence sent probing tendrils into their thoughts, questioning why the Knights would have let things go so far, why they would have sent for help now, instead of when they first felt their power and ranks beginning to wane. Why had they not joined the group of four… now two, instead of staying at the top, safe and unharmed?

Despite Greywulf's desire to side with Anomen… to deny any thoughts that there was truth in this Imprisoned One's words… a seed of doubt had been planted, and it was pointless hiding it from the creature locked up with them. It could see that its words were having an effect, on Greywulf if not Anomen- it continued, another tendril of thought asking what they imagined would happen when the seals were strengthened with the scroll that the Knights of the Vigil had given them… the holy symbol that they'd been given, that had allowed them access to the Keep, that the planetar had demanded to see before granting them passage… would it let them leave, then?

"Do not listen to the beast, Greywulf." Anomen growled, his body trembling as his gaze sat upon the statue of Helm in the back of the room, sweat beginning to run in rivulets down his face. "Do not let this monster's words take you for a fool- you know what we must do."

"I… I hear you, Anomen. But… something isn't right. I can feel it- here, in this place… by the gods, it pulls at my soul and saps my strength. Whatever you choose, Anomen... choose it quickly!" Greywulf cried out, feeling the presence in his mind intensify, digging deeper, deeper… it paused, and he could swear he could see a grin, a devilish smile in the dark as the creature found his true nature, unearthed and laid bare.

Even as Anomen began to withdraw the scroll from his pack, unrolling it and trying to stop his hands from trembling, Greywulf felt the beast's presence whisper to him, and him alone- the scent of Murder was fresh upon Greywulf. It knew what he was… a Bhaalspawn to be feared, one with a destiny far greater than that of the squire. Why should he let himself be trapped here with the foolish knightling? Kill him, and end the whole charade- or did Greywulf think that the Knights of the Vigil were not willing to imprison two dangerous beings down here with one simple move? Would that be above such doers of 'justice'?

"It's… inside my head, Anomen." Greywulf grit his teeth and backed away from the squire, Anomen glancing behind him in alarm at the sight of blood trickling from Greywulf's nose… "Read it! Read it before it's too late-!"

As Anomen began shouting the words on the scroll, the presence began reeling from Greywulf's mind, waves of disdain and outrage pouring across him before finally chittering away with what felt like amused acceptance. Even as Anomen's tones, dull and muted in his hearing reached their height, magic beginning to pour out from the statue of Helm, he could feel a final warning- that he should not be surprised, if the final results were not what he had expected…

As Anomen finished his words, light blazed from the scroll and swirled throughout the room- the chains that were splayed across the cobblestone floor shook off their rust and dirt- they floated into the air, as though newly attached to something- the manacles snapped closed, suddenly glowing with runic power and the wards crafted by a god. The statue of Helm turned from a dull bronze to white marble, and his blade became a shard of light in the noon-day sun… the bell, which had not ceased to ring since their entry into the room, slowed to a crawl, growing silent as the grave.

Anomen lowered the paper, breathing heavily as the currents of ritual magic left him- he turned to Greywulf, helping the embattled sorcerer regain his full posture. Greywulf gave him a smile of thanks, taking the squire by the shoulder as he looked around, taking in the newly restored room with both a hint of worry and satisfaction. "You did well, Anomen… I guess we don't need to ask whether the spell worked."

Before Anomen could reply, the presence returned- it interjected with a wave of resentment and amusement- a sense of congratulations and assurances that the spell had indeed done its job. The seals were renewed- the being wanted them to leave, to go and celebrate their victory in the free air outside this place… and to return to him when they had failed.

A chill ran down their spines at the confidence of the presence- Anomen handed the seal of Helm to Greywulf as the half-elf vaulted up the stairs two at a time and grasped at the door handle, yanking it, willing it to open and for the creature to have been bluffing- his heart sank as the door remained unmoving. He raised the seal, thrusting it at the door like a squire learning how to use a sword- nothing. He grabbed the door handles again, yanking on them, but to no avail- he whispered the words to an unlocking cantrip, but the telltale sound of magic fizzling upon powerful wards was his only reward. He turned and looked down the balcony at Anomen, despair on his half-elven features. "This thing… it was telling the truth. We've been played."

Anomen's features contorted- first with rage, then with realization… he'd been so sure, so confident that the creature had been lying… but hadn't the evidence made sense? Hadn't the planetar even, 'thanked them for their sacrifice?' He'd assumed the words were mere acknowledgments of everything they'd lost so far… but now… no. No. It couldn't end like this- Anomen spun, trying to quell the panic that was rising in him so quickly- Greywulf returned to his side within moments, the sorcerer's mind surely racked with ideas, something, anything to try and get them out… but Anomen could barely think. All he could picture was his own failure… yet again. And this time, it was the end. He sunk to his knees, his mace slipping from his grasp as it thudded to the ground- Anomen bent to the ground, hands clenched on the stone floor.

If it had been merely him, his life sacrificed to the will of Helm, he could've taken it. A noble death, if that was to be his fate. But Greywulf, the others that had been counting on him… the Realms as a whole… there was so much more at stake here. And his leadership had led them to this place… this tomb. Why hadn't the Knights of the Vigil told them? Had they betrayed the Order, after all? Were they truly the monsters that the Imprisoned One had made them out to be? What if… what if it had all been a lie? He could barely hear Greywulf shouting, attempting to gather his attention- "We're not done yet, you hear me! On your feet, squire! You want to lead us? Then stand and fight- we're not done!"

The squire barely moved- Greywulf exhaled, taking a step back. Anomen's faith was being sorely tested- the thought of betrayal by his Order was crushing him; if there was any way out, he had to think of it and fast- the presence of the Imprisoned One returned, chittering with laughter at their plight. It knew the exits were closed now, to all- Bhaalspawn and Imprisoned One, two dangerous entities locked together for all eternity. And what of the Helmites above? Were they now freed of their vow? At whose cost…

"Damn them…" Greywulf whispered, the picture finally becoming clear. That he was a Bhaalspawn had nothing to do with the issue- the Knights of the Vigil had been calling from someone, *anyone* to come and fight their way to the end of Watcher's Keep… but that they did not accompany them spoke volumes. That they did not tell of the scroll's true ability… it was all made clear. The god of Neutrality demanded much of his followers… at times their very lives. And for an issue as important as this… what follower of Helm would not be willing to lay down their life? Apparently, the kind who lurked above; the half-elf was looking forward to asking them some questions… should he ever find a way out, of course. That final thought drew another beckoning from the Imprisoned One's presence…

"Alright, then, what do you propose?" Greywulf said aloud- Anomen still made no response, as though he had not even heard the half-elf speak.

The presence slipped into Greywulf's mind with a greater intensity than before, yet still reserved enough to avoid overcoming Greywulf with power, hope seizing upon opportunity. They had been deceived- both he and the squire knew that now. It wished to be free... and it also wished revenge.

An image began appearing in Greywulf's mind- the image of… his Pocket Plane? Yes… the Imprisoned One's powers were great enough to see that much of his memory- and it knew what Greywulf was capable of- at least, outside of Watcher's Keep. Not that his power was enough to break free from the wards… at least, alone. The idea that the Imprisoned One had been marshaling its power for the past several thousand years, attempting to eventually break free of the wards and seals itself, came to mind- it was a process that would take thousands more years, now that the wards had been restored… but combined with Greywulf's ability to tear the fabric of the planes and transport himself to the Plane of Murder, there was a chance he could bring himself and Anomen out through the smallest of holes- not enough for the presence, but enough for the two adventurers.

"And… and what then?" Greywulf voiced, the prospect of leaving drawing a sense of hope from the sorcerer, but tempered by caution- for all the betrayals of the Knights of the Vigil, it did not mean that the Imprisoned One was to be trusted either. There was a line to be walked here, a balance that needed to be met were they to get out of this mess alive… and that tightrope was growing narrower each second.

An image of the Knights of the Vigil appeared within Greywulf's mind, and like a drop falling into a pool of water, the image rippled into a massacre. The sight of the knights, lying on the stairway to the top of Watcher's Keep, their corpses hewn and thrown down filled Greywulf with a mixture of dread and satisfaction. The power that kept the Imprisoned One in check was bound by the scroll… and by the blood of the Knights. If their bloodline was cut- if the last of the Knights of the Vigil were to perish, then the Imprisoned One could be free. If, in fact, Greywulf had not the stomach to take his own revenge… the Imprisoned One let free the sense that it could sustain a portal from the Prime plane via Greywulf's Pocket Plane back to his own den. In fact, taking his own revenge upon the Knights would be preferable… the desire of the Imprisoned One was nearly palpable- at the last it continued to offer, to tempt with more tangible rewards such as gold, or even the power of a god- Greywulf had barely continued listening, choosing instead to weigh the options in his own heart. What could he do? How could he remain true to himself, to his family… and yet, to the gods? Surely this being, this Imprisoned One was not to be trusted… and yet, it seemed that nobody was to be trusted, here. Nobody but himself and Anomen- Greywulf's eyes flashed open and he spoke, cutting off the further predations and temptations of the Imprisoned One's presence. "Do it."

The presence withdrew for a moment- and as Greywulf began channeling the magic to open a door to the Pocket Plane, he could feel the seals of the Keep pushing back, shunting his energy and magic away- until the Imprisoned One flexed his own power. The seals began stretching, throbbing under the combined assault- for a brief moment Greywulf feared it would not be enough, and then- a pinhole, the tiniest hint of freedom in the ether opened, and Greywulf grasped it for dear life- both he and Anomen vanished in a clap of thunder, leaving the chapel at the bottom of Watcher's Keep with its sole inhabitant once again… with the tiniest of pinpricks open now, in the seals that had been renewed. As the presence settled down, awaiting the actions of this spawn of Murder with anticipation, the bell that had been silenced began to sway, slowly but surely, until its ring began echoing through the chamber once again…

Lightning flashed across the sky of the Pocket Plane, bright orange contrasted with sickly green skies and black clouds- and then, they were back. Anomen and Greywulf dumped unceremoniously across the craggy rocks and flattened stonework of the Pocket Plane, both of them smoking with the transition. It had never been that painful before- perhaps something to do with navigating the wards of the prison? Still… they were out. Free of the tomb that had been Watcher's Keep- and faced with a new, terrible choice to make. Greywulf crawled to his knees, shaking his head as he tried to get his bearings- the sound of wings flapping and a high pitched voice jarred him back to reality far sooner than he'd been ready for. "Master! Master, you's return! Cespenar is so glad to see you, oh yes!"

"Cespenar…" Greywulf grunted, nearly pushing the imp to the ground as he used it for leverage to stand up. "How long… how long have we been gone?"

"Oh? Time moves funny in here, master… but me thinks it's been a couple weeks? Three weeks, maybes? You been gone for long time, master. Been awful lonely, just sweeping and cleaning all this time. You bring any shinies for Cespenar to look at while gone…?"

The imp's voice faded away as Greywulf took in what the imp had said… two or three weeks. That long since he'd split them all up- nearly a month had passed since he'd chosen, whether consciously or not, to run away from his destiny. To let the others face it in his place. No matter what excuses he'd given himself, that was the truth of it all… and until he knew the others were safe, until he knew that they hadn't paid for his cowardice, he would find no rest. He needed the others… needed to see them again, to know they were safe and then end it all, put this matter away and give Jaheira, Imoen, Aerie, Minsc… give all of them some well deserved peace. But first… there was one last matter to be dealt with. Greywulf turned to Anomen, the squire still on his knees, but finally aware, as though waking from a dream. "Greywulf…?"

"Like I said… on your feet, squire." Greywulf pulled Anomen up, yanking the man to a standing position. "We're not beaten yet. And the Knights of the Vigil have some explaining to do."

Anomen nodded, blinking as though trying to brush away cobwebs from his mind- he knelt and picked up his mace again, fastening it to his belt. "I… forgive me, Greywulf. I let despair overwhelm me. The thought of their betrayal… that I might've led us all to ruin… I could not bear it. To imagine that it would all be for naught-"

"It won't be." Greywulf vowed. "We're going to go back to the Knights and find out just what the hell is really going on down there."

Anomen inhaled sharply, then steeled himself with a nod. "Agreed. I could do with some answers, and I am sure that you are eager to reach the end of this quest and rejoin your companions. I… I should have said this sooner, but thank you for choosing to join me in this. For all of our loss- if we can uncover the truth behind these lies that we have been subject to… then perhaps Nalia and Reynald's deaths will not have been in vain."

Greywulf nodded in agreement- even as Cespenar continued tugging at Greywulf's pack, trying to peer inside, the imp yelped and flung himself backwards as light engulfed the two of them once again, pushing them at lightspeed through time and space, the world around them a mess of coruscating colors and lights until everything strobed again, and they found themselves standing atop Watcher's Keep, blocking the stairway down as Pol, Odren, and Garlena halted their advance, all of their equipment packed and the rest of their encampment torn down behind them.

"By the gods!" Odren shouted, recoiling at the sudden appearance of the two men- his hand immediately went to the weapon at his side, until he recognized who stood before him- his face seemed to drain of all color once he realized their identities. "Y-you return? I… we had sensed that the lower vaults had been breached, but… did you not cast the ritual?"

Anomen's eyes flared open as he stepped forward, causing Odren to take a reflexive move backward- "We cast the ritual, traitor! Speak plain, and let your lies wilt under Helm's gaze! You meant for us to be trapped down there within the bowels of the Keep, did you not? Admit your guilt before I beat it from you, coward!"

Brother Pol gaped at the sudden threats from Anomen- he moved only a moment after, attempting to cast a spell, but it was far too late. Greywulf had already leapt forward and swung his quarterstaff with all his might, magical wood cracking across Pol's side with the sound of ribs breaking. The man fell to his knees in agony, his incantations cut off with a scream. Garlena had drawn her mace at this point, moving to strike Anomen with it- the squire swung his shield arm to deflect the blow, then countered with his mace to crush Garlena's wrist- her own weapon fell from her grasp and tumbled down, rolling off the edge of the tower as Garlena collapsed, clutching her mangled wrist while Greywulf and Anomen turned to Odren, the leader of the Knights backing away slowly, eyes wide with terror as he raised his hands as though he could ward the vengeful pair off. "Stay back! You… you defy Helm's will with your sacrilege! You will free the Imprisoned One if you kill me! You cannot-"

Anomen snarled, lunging forward and grabbed Odren by the shoulders, pushing him further and further toward the edge of Watcher's Keep- he shoved the man all the way off the edge, then grabbed the man's wrist to keep him from toppling over entirely, Odren's screams echoing through the forest clearing that surrounded the monument to Helm. "Speak to me of your order." Anomen growled. "Tell me the truth of what has happened here, *Sir* Odren! Do not think to lie to us- I have no patience for you or your fellows' excuses; my companions gave their lives down there and I will not see them dishonored further. Speak!"

Greywulf grimaced as he noticed Pol beginning to stir again, raising a hand as though to try and cast another spell- he turned and slammed his staff down upon the older man's hand, feeling only the slightest hint of guilt as the wizard screamed- this ordeal had demanded much from all of them. His only solace was that it would be over soon- "Enough of this!"

A gust of wind blew both Anomen and Odren back onto the top of the Keep squarely, out of danger- it nearly flattened Greywulf as well, even as a blue light erupted into existence above them- the planetar they had encountered in the depths of the Keep below emerged, her eyes glowing with holy anger as she descended, sword drawn. Greywulf stepped back, trying to measure what actions the angel would take- were their attacks upon the Knights of the Vigil misjudged? Had they angered Helm with their deal, such as it was, with the Imprisoned One? It was impossible to know who to trust, just who had been telling the truth all this time…

The planetar landed aside Pol's prone form- with a withering look, the angel raised her blade, pointed it at the fallen wizard, and in a blast of magic, the man turned to stone. Garlena saw her fellows' fate, opened her mouth to scream- magic took her voice and flesh as well, a statue that would never complete her cry of terror. All that remained of the Knights was Odren- he cowered before the planetar as Anomen backed away, unsure of what was happening… "Tell them, coward. Tell them of the atrocities thou hast committed in Helm's name."

"No…" Odren whimpered, raising his hands as though to beg for mercy- the planetar raised a hand, and yellow light seemed to pick up the former knight by his hands and neck, dragging him to his feet and suspending him in midair. "Please… I don't want to die…"

"And that fear is what led thee to kill thine fellows, is it not?" The planetar's words were harsh, her tone filled with a fury the likes they had scarcely heard. It was a righteous anger, the anger of a divinity expressed here- "Thou hast abandoned thine call, thine duty to Helm! The Knights of the Vigil did not die out as you spoke to these- you and your brothers in fear attempted to leave, to abandon your station! When the other Knights forbade you to do so, you led a coup of traitors and spilled their blood, fought amongst yourselves until all that remained was you three. The ashes of a great order, dogs clinging to the scraps of glory you abandoned!"

"Helm would have had us wait here our entire lives, our children's lives, and our children's children!" Odren screamed, desperation in his voice as he struggled. "How many generations lived and died upon this very tower, waiting and waiting for what? All we wanted was freedom, to find our own way, to leave this bloody place, to be free of this wretched duty-"

"DUTY IS EVERYTHING!" the planetar bellowed, her features glowing so bright with rage that it was impossible to look directly at her- her sword was raised, as though ready to strike Odren down- she relented, her wings flapping as she ascended to tower over the fallen knight. "How many did thou murder to gain thine precious 'freedom?' Even then, thou knew t'would be impossible to leave. The seals of this place are tied to the lineage of the Knights of the Vigil- so long as your duty remained unfulfilled, thou wouldst never find peace. And so, instead of finding some manner of redemption by fulfilling your duty when the time came, you chose to seek another, hoping that if the seals were renewed by a stranger, you might be able to leave this place at last. Did thee ever consider that should you have died outside of here, the wards would have died with you? The ritual was tied to your life, traitor! Because it was no Knight of the Vigil who cast it, its power will die with the end of your lineage!"

"I… gods forgive me, but I cared not." Odren whispered, tears running down his face as he stopped his struggles. "Let the Realms burn with the freedom of the Imprisoned One. Just let me be free, for once in my life…"

The planetar roared, throwing Odren down upon the upper landing of the Watcher's Keep, his body bouncing with the impact as he curled up, trying to catch his breath. "Thou seekest freedom?! No… no, thou will meet only thine end for this betrayal! Helm demands payment for the blood you have spilt… let thine fate be that which you sought to escape so much. Demogorgon take your soul, betrayer!"

With a thrust of her sword, the planetar opened a portal underneath Odren's quivering body, allowing him to fall through, the only sound as he disappeared from sight being that of his screams, fading into the air. The portal closed as quickly as she had opened it, but the planetar finally seemed to calm as she descended to the ground, facing Anomen and Greywulf, both remaining silent through the entire altercation, unwilling to risk attracting the ire of the angel. "You… both of you, have done well, despite the evils perpetrated against you by these fallen brethren. In the eyes of Helm, thou art innocent of all wrongdoing… though the time has come to deal with the true threat- the Prince of Demons, the Demogorgon below."

"Demogorgon?" Anomen could scarcely speak the name aloud- he shuddered as he thought back to their experience with the presence below. "That… that is the beast we dealt with in the depths of the Keep? The Prince of Demons himself lurks in the belly of this tower? And we came face to face with such evil and yet remain… 'tis a miracle of Helm indeed."

"You know now the scope of Odren's betrayal- for years he has searched for a way to escape his vows, knowing that it was the duty of a Knight of the Vigil to repair the seals, knowing that until such an act was done, he would never be able to leave. But neither he nor his comrades in treachery were willing to give their lives, to sacrifice what was demanded of them." The planetar spoke with a grimace, her words dark and her expression cold. "He waited until he could find another to take his place, knowing that the bonds would only last so long as his life… but so far had he fallen, it mattered not to him. He would've traded a few years of freedom for setting Demogorgon loose upon the Realms. His soul has earned the fate bestowed upon him even now."

"Where did you send him?" Greywulf asked cautiously, the planetar's halo glowing with either satisfaction or righteous indignation- she responded with a gesture, pointing downward, at the Keep- Greywulf's eyes opened wide in realization. "You've given him to Demogorgon… but when he kills Odren, the wards will-"

"The wards will fall, 'tis true. But the punishment was just, and doth fit the crime committed. 'Tis up to you, now, to see the final measure of justice meted out." The planetar intoned. "Odren cannot win in the battle below against the demon- he will die, and then the Imprisoned One will be free. You have three options to take… one is to simply leave. I cannot deny thee this right- Helm has seen the blood you have spilt and the cost you have paid so far, and it is enough. You need do nothing further if that is your wish. There is much that remains to be done before the wars of the Bhaalspawn are concluded, and even Helm cannot interfere from you seeking your destiny."

"Never." Greywulf shook his head, and Anomen smiled, nodding to the man as they locked gazes- despite all they had been through, all they had experienced in this hellish place… there were still some choices that needed no consideration. Some paths that were simply off limits. Letting a monster like the Demogorgon go free so easily… no. If he ever had considered himself a 'good' man, then he couldn't let it happen, not without a fight.

Anomen could swear he saw the planetar smile, nodding in acceptance of their choice. "Very well. Then know that thou hast two further options- one is to rescue Odren below. Thou dost owe him nothing, it is true, and battling the Prince is a deadly task. Should the Prince of Demons be destroyed, he is returned only to the Abyss. This is better, however, than freeing him loose upon this land. A third, and better, option is also possible. Helm the All-Seeing has granted me a scroll...a version of the ritual you carried before. But this is Helm's own. It may be used to seal both Odren and Demogorgon within, and you need not enter the Keep to do so."

Anomen took the scroll from the planetar's outstretched hand- he gazed down upon it in wonderment for a moment, receiving a gift from the messangers of the gods- he glanced to Greywulf, a look of worry in his face. "I feel no sympathy for the traitor below, my friend… and I do not desire to face the fury of the Prince of Demons, not this day. We have other battles to fight… and you have a destiny to meet. Do you agree?"

"I do." Greywulf nodded, a smile crossing his features as he stepped side by side with Anomen, bowing to the planetar. "We accept your generous offer, angel. May the will of Helm be done."

The planetar bowed in reply, then flapped her wings once, twice, she shot into the air with blazing speed, vanishing in a glorious ascent of light and magic. Anomen inhaled deeply, raised the scroll- there remained only the slightest hint of tension in his voice, gone by the end as Greywulf listened to the squire summon the power of the Watcher himself. Lightning rang from the clear blue sky, striking the pillars of the four corners of Watcher's Keep, emblazoning it with magic and the power of the gods. Every word Anomen spoke thundered like a meteor, the earth shaking as the tower rumbled, every level within that they had conquered and left shattered in their wake rebuilding itself, all the defenses restored and the wards that surrounded the tower raised strong once more. As Anomen finished the scroll, it disintegrated into a handful of golden dust flakes, scattering in the wind.

Greywulf lent a hand out, watching as the golden dust drifted between his fingertips- he nodded to Anomen, the two men finally, at long last… finally breathing a sigh of relief. It was over… Watcher's Keep had been conquered. No words needed be said- Greywulf closed his eyes and tilted his head upward, and in the blink of an eye they were gone once more.

The air was thick with dust and the coppery stench of blood- behind it all was the smell of burning flesh, those who had been consumed by the lightning, rained down by the beast that had lain waste to Amkethran… the beast that now stood before the so-called protector of this city, who if he were being honest with himself, was just as much a beast as the dragon. Balthazar and Abazigal- the two remaining members of the Five- oh yes, they both knew that Sendai had fallen. The death of one of the only remaining Bhaalspawn was like a ripple throughout the essence of all connected to the godly taint- especially when it was the death of one so powerful. They both knew so very well that of the original Five, of the original pact- only they yet remained. And it was clear that by the setting of the sun, there would be only one.

"Long have I waited for this moment, monk…" Abazigal hissed, leaning down to chomp his jaws eagerly at Balthazar's face, the monk stoic and unwaveringly calm in the face of almost certain death. "You and your self-righteous plans… did you think you had us all fooled? Did you think we didn't know of your plans to betray us?"

"You can drop the pretenses, Abazigal." Balthazar gestured to the rubble all around him, the ruin that had been wrought by Jaheira and Cernd's Implosion spells combined with Balthazar's entrance. "There is nobody here for you to impress- we both know the truth. None of the Five would have suffered to share power with the others. It was only a matter of time before we turned upon one another…"

"You speak the truth, though it was not quite the foregone conclusion you may have imagined." Abazigal grinned toothily, enjoying the dominance, the pleasure of his only remaining foe at his mercy. "We all might've stayed at one another's side for so long as the giant yet lived- but once we no longer needed to fear his immortality, then everything went up for grabs, didn't it? You and Mellissan thought you were so clever, didn't you… where is the she-witch now? I want to see how her plans have amounted to nothing more than ashes in the wind before I take the Throne."

"You seem to be forgetting something, my reptilian friend…" Balthazar smirked, inwardly testing his wounded muscles, hoping they'd have enough strength left to get him out of this situation… or at least, to take the beast before him with him as they descended into the Abyss they had both earned so rightly. "You are not the ruler of the Throne just yet."

"And who will stop me?" Abazigal roared, her jaws crackling with lightning as he craned down to look Balthazar in the eye, his blue scales glimmering with power as though daring the monk to attempt to strike him. "You? I could crush you at any time- the only reason I have let you live so long is to savor the taste of your failure- vengeance is sweet and I will have my fill before ending your life."

"Your arrogance is your weakness, dragon." Balthazar intoned, but he did not move to strike either- as much time as he could muster, all the time he could get to try and regain some strength, some wind… he'd need it. Had to keep Abazigal talking- "Have you forgotten who killed Yaga-Shura to begin with? Who slaughtered Illasera and undoubtedly Sendai while you and I wasted our strength upon one another? Imoen and Greywulf, the wards of Gorion- they yet remain, and they are more powerful than either of us could possibly know! You speak of Mellissan as well- do any of us know what she truly plans? What her designs are on the Throne? You have doomed us both with your attacks, and neither of us shall live to see this story reach its climax-"

"Enough!" Abazigal roared, bringing both claws down, one on either side of the monk, trapping him from moving to the left or right- Balthazar tensed- the dragon had always been too good at seeing through his deceptions and bluffs. "You think my army cannot be rebuilt? I still have the loyalty of Tamah, she burns the remnants of your citadel even as we speak! And the wards of Gorion? They are nothing! I will sweep them from this place like dust in the wind, little man! I am Abazigal the mighty! Nothing you, nor anyone can do will stop my ascent to glory-"

A massive boulder crashed into the side of Abazigal's head, sending the dragon's bulk hurtling to the side of the collapsed cavern, his blue scales and limbs flopping with the unexpected impact- Abazigal staggered back and forth, trying to raise himself, to shake off the unexpected blow to his head, dazing and confusing him- on the other side of the cavern, standing by the catapult they had taken refuge under upon entering the cavern in the first place, Cernd and Jaheira stood, covered in dust and rock and blood from surviving the cavern's collapse. Jaheira shot the dragon a withering gaze. "You talk too much."

Before the dragon could do anything else, Minsc charged past Jaheira and Cernd, his body sped and blessed by Viconia's magic, the drow cleric chanting and calling on the power of Shar, ignoring her own wounds endured in the Implosion- the ranger screamed a challenge and leapt high into the air, his target path clear.

The dragon had no time to move- too dazed by the impact of the catapult to his head, all Abazigal could do was open his jaws, a ball of lightning already forming as Minsc hurtled through the air- the ranger landed on top of Abazigal's head the moment before the dragon's lightning breath would have come to fruition; a downswing of the Silver Sword landed and cut through crushed scales and slid right between Abizagal's eyes. The dragon shrieked, a terrible, violent sound- his neck spun one way, then another as Minsc pushed the sword in further and further, yelling curses and threats as the dragon's death rattle continued. The cavern shook once more as Minsc tumbled to the ground, followed closely by Abazigal- the blade of the Silver Sword piercing through the dragon's head and coming out the top of the dragon's upper jaws.

Just like that, it was over. Balthazar blinked, scarcely believing what lay before him- the last of the Five, dead. He spun to face the others, but it was too late- they were already upon him, Jaheira in his face, Cernd and Viconia at his sides, Minsc drawing the Silver Sword and moving to his rear. Perfectly surrounded- Jaheira spat blood and dirt from her mouth as she looked at the monk with a mixture of anger and frustration; her eyes were red and her features stained with grime, dried blood and sweat from everything they'd endured in the past days. The others were no better- Minsc's face was still a tableau of rage at Aerie's death, Viconia's anger was as palpable as it had ever been, and even the normally even keeled Cernd was far too worn out and beaten to question, to argue their path.

Maybe there was a better way. Maybe Balthazar could explain things, could clarify the destiny of Imoen and Greywulf… but it was too late. After everything they'd been through, after everything they'd survived and lost… Jaheira was too damned tired to listen. Too tired to talk. This war had taken too much from all of them- and if it could be ended here and now, then so be it. She leveled her spear at Balthazar and prepared to strike.

In the depths of Watcher's Keep, in the belly of Demogorgon's chambers, the corpse of Odren lay still, blood pooling from his remains, torn to shreds under the power of the Prince of Demons. And despite the newly restored wards, despite the power of Helm that had covered every possible avenue of escape through Watcher's Keep for the Demogorgon… that pinprick of light remained. The gate Greywulf had opened with his power led not out of the Keep, but *into* the Pocket Plane of Murder- a distinction that had kept it from being closed with everything else upon the second ritual of sealing that had been uttered, trapping Demogorgon within. The Prince of Demons smiled, his grotesque, scaled tentacles wrapping around the statue of Helm in anticipation as he gathered his strength, sending cracks running down the statue's sides. The bell of warning had not yet drawn silent- it continued to ring in the depths of Watcher's Keep as the twin baboon heads of Demogorgon eyed his chance for escape hungrily…