AUTHOR'S NOTE: Again, sorry for the delays, hopefully soon I'll be out of this place and able to update regularly... as an aside updates will be infrequent over the holidays, but when college starts again I should be updating more as an excuse to not work ;)

Chapter 5: Only a Pawn: Part 1

We had left Athkatla under the cover of darkness, stealing a small rowboat from the docks while the guards were distracted by Gan. We made it clean away, the few arrows they sent towards us sinking harmlessly into the waves around us as Galena cast a magical protection around the boat, despite complaining all the time: "I never signed up for theft, what's next? Murder?" more to herself than anyone else.

We chose not to sail all the way down to the Wealdath due to the increasing fierceness of the waves in that region and our cumulative ineptitude at sailing. Instead we moored the small boat just outside of Murann and rested on the shore for a while. Then, before dawn, Gan went off on a mission of reconaissance, leaving me to ensure the cleric made no attempt at betraying us.

I personally felt Galena was trustworthy. Naturally I understood Gan's prejudice against humans, and it could have been down to an inbred respect for the clergy, but I was never exactly treated well by priests, and it seemed to me that she was naive enough to keep her word. She would not betray us, I knew, but would instead serve out her time with us as though it were pennance for her sins, leaving when she considered she had served her time. I had shared this view with Gan, but he responded cynically.

"Then you wait here in case she needs reminding that she hasn't served that time yet." He had said.

I did as he felt was necessary, partly out of a sense of needing to make sure that I was right about her- had I been wrong, I never would have forgiven myself for being so trusting. Gan was gone for the best part of two hours, but my time stewing with the cleric was not wasted. Our conversation, though bitter at first, grew in depth until we had developed a form of trust out of necessity. Of course I had not been the first to speak; I tend not to make casual conversation with those who condemn me out of hand and think I'm some monstrous, demonic threat to humanity. I think she spoke because she craved a deeper understanding of the world, and that was more than the rigourous doctrines of Latahnder's temple could give her.

"Why do you fight?" she had asked me. It was a confusing question, and I thought the most obvious answer was 'for my survival' but I had misinterpreted her context.

"No," she said, "I understand why you do battle. What I want to know is why you struggle against nature itself. I have encountered many... tieflings, and all of them have succumbed to the darkness of their blood. It is inevitable... so why do you resist it? What makes you different?"

It was an easy question for me to answer, from my perspective. "Because I believe it is a man's actions- not his blood, status or wealth- that define him. I bear the blood of devils, true, but my heart and my soul are those of a man. And I choose to believe I can be a good man, regardless of this accursed blood running through my veins. I choose not to succumb to the temptations of corruption and evil using the excuse that I was born without a choice- that's the coward's way out"

She seemed confused by this statement of bravado, and I was not surprised- it probably contradicted everything she had ever been taught by her prelates and dawnbringers in Athkatla, but this was the world, and I knew that if she were to survive long she would have to dismiss any ideas of uniformity she thought she knew.

"B-but..." she stammered "but the Morninglord teaches that those touched by the abyss are damned from the beginning. How can you stand defiant in the face of fate" Ugh, a fatalist... she had to see the truth soon if I was to tolerate living with her.

"For starters, I don't follow your God. I know that the gods exist and, on occasion, interfere with Faerunian life. However, they certainly haven't been very kind to me. Less than ten leagues from here, everybody who ever accepted me, everything I ever loved, is rubble and ash. This is reality outside your city: death and destruction! I don't claim to be a paragon of virtue, but I would never selflessly serve a society that has done nothing but shun me for an accident of birth. I simply maintain my concept of honour. I'm not evil, no matter what your temple says. But ask yourself," I was about to make her question everything she had ever known, "Is this what your God really thinks of me? Or is it the prejudice of the people who claim to serve him?"

She had no answer. While it was difficult for her to accept that everything she had been raised to believe had been corrupted by the selfish ideals of a few powerful individuals- the truth of her religion warped by the shadow of greed- she somehow understood that the tiefling's words made sense. Too much sense for her to not have come to the realisation earlier, and she was overwhelmed with guilt for not having served the Morninglord truly by seeking out the pockets of corruption and helping to eliminate them- for she knew there were those who did, and had dismissed them as fools. Instead she had simply furthered her own position in the temple by doing exactly as she was told, never questioning what or why. How could she not have seen it? After all, what power in Toril could have taken up residence in the City of Coin and not been corrupted by material greed?

"I... I-, thank you... you have given me much to think about. Your questions are important ones, and I have no answers to them yet. I must think about what Lathander truly wants of me if I am to serve him to the best of my abilities. It seems things in the multiverse are not so black and white as I allowed myself to believe. Excuse me, please. I must retire to my quarters and contemplate the answers."

I allowed her to move past me, smirking as I heard her mention her 'quarters'- in reality a bedroll laid out in the scrubland. Some customs are hard to beat out of people. Still, I had won a minor victory. I take no extreme pleasure in shaking the foundations of a person's beliefs, but when those beliefs blind you to what is happening all around you, I take take it upon myself to wake you up before you get us both killed.

As she settled down to rest, I moved behind a large rock out of courtesy, so that it would appear she was truly alone for her silent contemplation of the multiverse. I figured it would be at least half an hour before Gan returned from his scouting, so I pulled my pipe from my pack, tamped in some tabac, and lit it, thinking about the conflicting nature of my companions as I puffed thoughtfully away, letting the breeze of the shore wash over me in the still of the night.

XXX

Gan approcahed the ruins of the outpost under the cover of total darkness. Selune's face cast no light upon the blackness that night. He crept towards the skeleton of a burned out grain silo, bypassing two patrolling guards with such ease that it was all he could do to stop himself from killing them before they could draw breath and dumping their corpses in a ditch somewhere. He passed them, and he caught the reek of liquor on their breath, another reason for him to detest fool humans who cloud their minds with foul liquid. However, on this occasion, it served his purposes perfectly. As he silently slipped into the charred tower, he carefully climbed the splintered ladder, stepping quickly and lightly lest the rungs split beneath his feet and crumble to ash. When he had ascended to the top, he lay prone on his stomach and looked out over the new, altered mercenary campsite. Judging by the scope of the wreckage; and going by the tiefling's stories of the unsurpassed grandeur of this particular outpost (admittedly, not a bar set very high) it had once been grand indeed, more the size of a small town like Beregost, for example. Now all that remained of most of it was skeletal husks that had once been buildings, a scarred, blighted landscape, and a small campsite located roughly in the middle of the wreckage. The ground was littered with splintered wood from the buildings that had gone to feed the endless campfires, left to decay without a care. The trees that seemed to once have grown in abundance in the gardens of the more officious mercenaries had been torn down, roots pulled forcefully from the ground, and sent to burn at the small forges and to be carved into shields, spear hafts, arrows and other weapons of warfare. For a moment, Gan felt a genuine timt of remorse- something he had not felt for almost fifteen years. This place had been home to a band of uncouth mercenaries perhaps, but they seemed at least to have lived in relative harmony with nature. Now that they were dead, an entire grove of nature's bounty had died with them. Nothing but death remained here, and death would soon come back to greet the perpetrators of this crime.

He imagined his companion, the tiefling, would not be very happy about the state of things. Of course he had known that everything he had ever held dear was dead, but to know that it was utterly destoyed, like this? ... That was a feeling not unknown to Gan, one that induces a state of mind in which only one thing becomes important: REVENGE! Gan allowed himself a brief smile, not because another person now shared his suffering, but because he knew what the tiefling's reaction would be. The hatred would consume him from within, until all that had ever touched his life were dead at his knees. First he would have to take care of the cleric- hers was the voice of reason, and she could restrain the fiend's blood if given the chance to see what was happening and take preventative measures. Then he would unleash the beast that lay within, and use the same hatred to gather more like-minded followers. If he succeeded, mankind would finally be brought to its knees. The execution was essential.

With a solid plan having formed in the depths of his malevolent- albeit deeply troubled- mind, Gan dropped lithely from the tower and began his return to the camp, whistling softly with satisfaction as soon as he was out of earshot.

"And the slaughter will come..." he chuckled as he made his way back through the shadows once more.

XXX

Gan eventually returned to our camp, looking the worse for wear. I stood in alarm at his haggard appearance- there was a shallow gash in his forehead, through which blood has seeped to cover the left side of his face. He was staggering, heavily favouring one leg and supporting the other by leaning on the hilt of one of his katanas- the blade of which was stained dark red with blood. His armour was scratched and torn, and two crossbow bolts stuck from his side as if he had simply not bothered to remove them yet- for there were many other such holes in his gear.

"What in the hells happened to you?" I asked as he limped towards us, toying with the idea of waking Galena so that she could tend to his wounds. He grinned.

"I ran into some... opposition... on the way there. A scout patrol. They fought like cowards, and live no longer, though they all begged for their lives before the end."

"Do you want me to wake Gal- I mean do you want me to wake the cleric?" I cut myself short of using her name. I knew he knew it, but he acted as though he didn't and he treated her and those she associated with with critical disdain. Best to avoid that. "Your wounds look pretty bad."

He took on a pained expression at the mention of her, "I would rather die than be subjected to the vile magicks of the human," he snarled, "Besides which, I shall be fine, my wounds heal quickly." On seeing my raised eyebrows (yes both, alas, I cannot raise one at a time) he continued "Perhaps not as quickly as yours, devilspawn, but but quickly enough to be ready for battle by morning, I assure you." I frowned at his use of the word 'devilspawn' but I let it slide for the time being.

"And what of the outpost?"

"Destroyed, all of it. Only ashes and cinders remain." I felt my heart sink like a stone upon hearing these words. I don't know what else I had expected to hear, but I had hoped that there would be something left of my upbringing. Somebody left to tell the tale. Inestead, my legacy was death, as was the wont of fate in my case. No matter my intentions, I left a trail of corpses wherever I went. There was only one rational thing to do now.

"Taurgosz. Must. Die." I growled the words through gritted teeth. Gan simply nodded.

"Good. We should act quickly, before they stumble onto the corpses of the patrol I killed. I propose we attack at first light. They will be groggy from sleep, and their camp will be in disarray. It will be the perfect time to strike at their heart, and kill their leader before his bodyguards have chance to draw their blades"

"Very well, first light it is then."

I all the time we had been talking, neither of us had heard Galena rise from her slumber and come to join us. She gasped in shock as she saw Gan's wounds. "Oh my! What happened? Come, let me heal you."

As she approached him, he raised his katana defensively, wrinkling his nose as though her scent offended him and snarling viciously. "Lay so much as one dirty human finger on me, and I shall take away your hand, I promise you that, human. I am going to my bedroll to rest for the coming battle. Do not disturb me with your futile ministrations in the time being. Tiefling, I bid you a good night. Human, may the graveworms devour your skull from the inside-out." With that, he stalked towards the beds and settled into a meditative state.

Galena made to go after him, but I held her back. "Don't. Believe me, he'd like nothing more than an excuse to kill you. Besides, I can guarantee that his 'wounds' will have healed by daybreak."

She looked puzzled at this. "You seem to put a special emphasis on his 'wounds'. Why?" My only response was to lead her behind the large rock that had previously sheltered me from her meditations. I had learned a form of sign language with the Renegade Fists and could only hope she had similar knowledge of it, for it was imperative that Gan not overhear what I was about to communicate to Galena. I began to sign to her,

'Can you cast a spell that would shield our conversation from being overheard?'

She frowned. Then she made an attempt to recall what she knew of sign language, before replying, 'Yes, but what is the need?'.

I then made more hand gestures: 'Just do it. I tire of speaking in this ridiculous manner, and I would speak to you in private.' I glanced over to where Gan sat on his sleeping mat for emphasis, 'I do not wish to be overheard.'

She too looked back towards where Gan lay, then she nodded, hurriedly muttering the incantation. When she completed it, I felt a barely tangible ripple in the air that let me know that the spell had taken effect. then she asked "Why do you wish to speak in secrecy?"

I pondered the best way to let her know the answer, and decided on bluntness. It had worked on her before, after all, and seemed the best method of dealing with the incurably stupid or the naive. "He is lying to us. There was no battle, and his wounds are false- or self-inflicted- either way, he is lying, and it is critical that he thinks we believe him. This is why he would not let you touch his wounds, although in all honesty he is repulsed by humans, and that is in fact his plan."

"What plan do you speak of?" she asked with a wary edge to her voice, "What does he seek to obtain through your company?"

I sighed, "What else? Revenge. He seeks to bring humanity to its knees. I am, in his eyes, simply a tool- a pawn, if you will. He sees me as potentially being an extension of his will, which he could use as a weapon against his foes. He believes that because I am a tiefling, and by definition shunned and rejected by humans all across the planes, that I would willingly share his goals. He is wrong, but his thirst for vengeance has driven him to madness, and it has clouded his vision. He sees only what he wishes to see in my intentions, for his vison of the world is so complete that he cannot help but see the pieces of his plan fall into place exactly as he had intended."

Galena looked shocked by my revelation, but her expression quickly changed to one of concern, "How long have you known about this?" she asked.

I sighed. The truth was I had known of Gan's intentions all along, although I had not realised what I knew until I had shared his company for a few days. "I... hmm..." Boy, was this hard to explain. I had to find a way to ease into it.

"I met his father once, you see. Not his blood father, the human drunkard, but the elf who was a father to him as Garilios Dosan was a father to me. He came to our camp once, as an emissary, bringing his 'son' with him. He looked different then, more at peace with himself. There was less hatred in his eyes, which is why it took me several days to recognise him, and understand just whose company I was in. GaeusMenourar was a wise man, and my father and he held one another in high esteem. He told me once that my father was the only human he could ever respect, and by extension our company would be allowed to live in the shadows of the Wealdath. However, my father later revealed to me that Gaeus held a dark secret- He was one of the Eldreth Veluuthra."

She frowned, "Eldreth Veluuthra? I've heard of them..."

"They're a fanatical cult of elves dedicated to the total removal of humans from Faerun" I said, letting the gravity of such a cause sink in as realisation dawned on her face.

"And you say that Gan is one of them?"

I chuckled, "Oh no, he lacks the focus to be Eldreth, he is far too outspoken in his beliefs. Among non-elves, they are very secretive about their goals. Besides which Gan is half human. He would never be readily accepted by them for he is 'tainted' by his heritage. For this reason, and because of the danger such an unstable mind would pose if it had the focus of a cult, I believe that Gaeus kept the Veluuthra a secret from him. As I said, he was a wise man. Nonetheless Gan's resentment is a powerful force, if harnessed correctly, but unbridled it could consume him."

She looked confused once more. "But why all the hatred?" she asked, "What great crime did humanity commit against him?"

I sighed, Gan's tale was a sad one, known to me long before my adventures. My father had warned me of such fanatics a long time before his death, cautioning that I could easily be mistaken for a human in their midst. 'Where to begin?' I thought.

Gan's Story

First, you should now that humanity took everything from him. Gan's mother, so I'm told, was once a strong, brave and beautiful elf maiden, who fell in love with a bold Luskan soldier who fought great battles against the enemies of of the elves. They married, and moved south to Tethyr, but over time they years and the drink dulled his mind. He lost himself to rage. He became violent, and Gan's mother had her spirit broken. Where once she was strong and independent, now she was humble and meek. As a result of humans, Gan was forced to watch his mother's strength beaten out of her time and again. But this was only humanity's first of three crimes against him.

When he was stronger, at the age of about fourteen years, his father flew into a rage again. Unable to bear it any longer, he took advantage of the man's inebriated state and put a dagger in his back, ferrying his mother away from their solitude to a small elven village in the Wealdath. They were accepted by the village elders and one of them, Gaeus Menourar, began to court his mother. With him, she seemed to regain some of her old composure, and while she was still not strong, she started to find joy in life once more.

The second crime commited against him by humans is one he has no memory of, but Gaeus knew of it, and I overheard him telling my father. When he was off hunting, as a test of his adulthood at the young age of eighteen, he was set upon by Amnish hunters. They thought him an easy target- alone and unarmed- and their blades had not tasted blood for many months. They began to beat him, throwing him to the ground and kicking him to a pulp. He would have died that day, but the experience conjured in him memories of his blood father. Just as the first hunter was about to draw his blade and end Gan's life, Gan stood. All five hunters were dead within seconds.

Gaeus found Gan two days later, unconscious in the woods among the bodies of the men he had killed, but when he awoke, he had no memory of it. The memory still exists, dormant, eating away it his subconscious mind, causing him to enter violent battle rages from time to time

The final crime against him was committed only a few weeks ago. I can recall this better because I was there. Having lived peacefully for a time in the elven village, Gan's life held promise. He was a deadly warrior, and one of the finest archers in the region, even by elven standards. However, not long ago, Taurgosz Khosann's Black Talons attacked his village while he was away hunting. They pillaged, raped and burned. They hacked trees from the earth and destroyed sacred symbols. Not man, nor woman nor child was spared. Everything, every single person he ever held dear, was killed in that attack, and his home destroyed- or so he thought.

Know that Gaeus Menourar still lives. I conducted a search of the corpses there and would easily have recognised his facial tattoos and religious markings. His body was not numbered among the dead. I find it likely that he fled the village, ferrying Gan's younger siblings Freya and Dehi to safety. However, I have asked Gan questions about his foster father, and he knows nothing. The name Gaeus sparks not even the vaguest memory in his mind.

My theory is that before the attack, Gaeus erased some of Gan's memories. He would have gone to the Eldreth Veluuthra to shelter his children from the attack, and Gan would not have been given shelter because of his mixed heritage. Thus he removed those memories of himself and the other childen so that Gan would not attempt to follow them, only to be condemned by his own people. It would be too much for his already fragile psyche to cope with: it would not have been the first time Gan had killed family. It is also possible that those memories were erased because asking around about Gaeus Menourar could easily lead to Gan uncovering his link with the Eldreth Veluuthra. Either way, I believe they are a sect that Gaeus wanted him to know nothing about.

Regardless, after the attack, I found him knee deep in the dead of the mercenaries, wearing a tunic stitched from the flesh of his foes. Death followed him like a shadow that night. His mother, sadly, numbered among the broken corpses that night. She remained to shield Gan and cover Gaeus' tracks, such was her devotion to her new family. She was among the first to die.

XXX

Galena sighed in exasperation. "'Tis a sad tale indeed," she said, "but much remains to be explained. For instance, I still do not see why he would fake an encounter with a patrol..."

Now it was my turn to sigh: How could she not understand this yet? "Because these same mercenaries who took everything from him did the same to me, he believes I share his resentment. To an extent, he is correct, although he misunderstands the nature of my anger. While he directs it at the human race as a whole, my anger is only for Taurgosz and his men. Regardless, he staged an attack because the presence of the enemy would force us to attack in haste, and he believe that in acting hatsily I will be caught in the heat of my anger." I sighed once more, this time with regret. "I was indeed saddened to hear of the total destruction of my home, but it is what I had come to expect. The first lesson of warfare, as taught me by my father: People die in war- there are always casualties. All that is left for the common soldier to do is to fight best and hardest to protect that which he holds dear. Nevertheless Gan is dangerous, and we should watch him closely both before and during the attack."

Galena opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. She looked as though she was pondering what she was going to say. Then she asked, slowly, as if each word pained her "If he is so dangerous, then why... why not... kill him?"

At this I laughed, both at her naivety and her reproachful attitude towards killing. I shook my head, smiling. "Have you seen him fight?" I asked, incredulous, "The man is a hurricane of sharpened death. It would take me much of my strength to kill him. Other than that, I believe he can be saved. This is pertinent the discussion we had earlier. Gan is in deep, but not too far gone, I think, to be saved. My question to you is: will you help me? Do you have the faith?"

Galena looked worriedly at me for a moment, biting her lower lip nervously. Then she nodded stiffly. "Okay, I'll help. What do you need me to do?"

I grinned. "Good. Here's my plan. First we need to..."

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I know I've been promising a showdown with Taurgosz for a while now, but I promise it will happen next chapter. I kinda had a completely different plan for where this chapter was going, and then the idea for where to fit Gan's subplot finally hit me- Special thanks to Ipsissimus for letting me know about the Eldreth Veluuthra. Anyway the chapter would have been too long had I kept it as it is AND added Gan's story, so I divided it. The title WILL remain relevant

Sorry I took SOOO long.

We have some character developing in Galena, her reactions to what our intrepid heroes encounter are going to be interesting indeed. She may not look like much, but she's a very important plot device.

To those who were wondering and/or figured it out: yes I'm planning on having one of each major class, so we are still expecting- paladin, barbarian, monk, thief, bard, druid, mage and sorcerer. Some of these characters are very well developed, whilst others I have no idea how to incorporate. This, however, is my problem. Let me worry about that while you worry about more important things. Like when I'm finally going to update :P

I'd be very interested to see people's thoughts on Gan's situation- I've already decided which path he will take, but I'd like to know what my readers think he should do. Best suggestion gets a spoiler!

I don't care if you think it's a deus ex machina that Abdel knew Gan's adoptive father! I honestly do. Not. care! I planned that from the very beginning, it's not just convenient.

Also I won't listen if you say Abdel 'Doesn't have the wisdom to figure it out'. He already knows, and wisdom affects what you don't yet know (in my eyes)

The above comments may have seemed defensive, but I've been flamed for my writing style before. Sorry :)

Also, while it may seem that Abdel and Gan are evenly matched, we're going to see just how deadly Gan is next chapter, provided I don't have any more brainstorms (think 'Ignus' from Planescape Torment) It won't be easy to win him over.

I still appreciate your reviews, and I'm still listening for good, honest criticisms in my writing style. The way I see it, how I tell the story isn't an issue or I wouldn't have readers (am I right?)

In addition, I have some stats for the Fireblade for those interested in creating it for some in-game function:

Bastard sword +2 'Fireblade'

Damage: 1d10 +2

THAC0: +2

Special: when its power is invoked, adds 1d6 + 3 + user's level fire damage. Can only remain active for 1 round per level of the user.

I think that's everything, but if you have other questions, message me!