Heart of Darkness

by Cyricist001

Louise wanted a divine, beautiful, wise and powerful servant but many entities across the multiverse have those characteristics, and not all are benevolent. Meet the Necromancer.

7. Chapter 7

The Shadows of War

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Plane of Shadow – 241 years ago

Might makes Right

The Shadovar learned this lesson well, forgotten is their naive idealism that dominated the Netherese society before the fall.

All that matters is power, if you don't have it then you are enslaved to do other peoples biding. Forced to listen to their desires instead of your own.

That was the fate of the inhabitants of Thulthantar. By Shar's will the city was saved from the event that doomed the Netherese Empire, the calamity that brought down the flying cities of the once great civilization plummeting them down to the ground, killing countless and leaving the rest as homeless refugees.

But that salvation turned into a double edged sword. By transporting the city into the Plane of Shadows they found themselves trapped in the eternal darkness, at the mercy of demons and other horrors that lurked in its domains. They could not return, for what could a single city do against the Phaerimm, malevolent creatures that sucked the very life from the earth and would stop at nothing to see them all dead or enslaved.

The humans quickly learned that their numbers were too few to successfully combat the bloodthirsty hordes that craved their souls, be it on Toril or in this accursed plane. So they bargained with the demons. A price that the Shadovar never forgot...

They payed tribute in lives to the demon lords, a heavy price to be sure but one necessary for the survival of the whole. For a thousand years they watched as the hellspawn took their loved ones to devour their souls; children, fathers and mothers... Only more power could help them escape such chains, and magic was the key.

All those that were of no use were sacrificed, those that excelled in their studies thrived, and so the Shadovar came to be. Infused with the power of shadows, they evolved to resist magic, regenerate, see in the dark and even move through darkness itself.

After a full millennium the Shade enclave finally gathered enough power to oppose their oppressors.

Not even the mighty demon lords wished to challenge the thousands of Archmages for a few meager souls that they would gain.

But the Shadovar victory was short lived, for a new threat emerged to bring the last Netherese city to its knees.

The Malaugrym.

For the next few centuries they fought against these evil shapechangers that wished to reach Faerun through the Plane of Shadows and gorge themselves on the living. The war was brutal, but once again the Shadovar proved themselves victorious.

But the question is for how long?

How long can they suffer the deaths of Archmages that needed centuries to reach their mastery over the arcane arts, when their foe simply spawns formidable spellcasters. What they needed was to finally return to the Prime Material Plane, and restore what was lost, only with a Empire fully armed could they finally breath easy.

XXXX

Marik coughed as air returned to his lungs. The boy no older then six glanced at his legs, and noted that at least one was broken. When he followed his mentor out of Thultantar he never thought they wold be ambushed by a shadowdragon.

He wanted to send at least one magic missile against the thing, but he had to wait. It will take a few more minutes for his leg to heal properly.

The boy didn't have the chance to pursue that line of thought as suddenly pure darkness engulfed him.

After a few minutes passed, the boy's body was finally fully regenerated. Opening his eyes the boy stood up, and glanced at his hands, flexing them twice he grinned This body will do nicely.

He then glanced at the location the boy's mentor was fighting the dragon, from his keen senses he could tell that the dragon was outclassed, and it would soon either retreat or be killed by the old wizard. Personally Aeron would like nothing more then rush in and sever some limbs, but he needed the mage, the man will be his ticket to entering Thultantar where he planed to study dark magic, and showing off his other powers was not advisable for now.

So he waited.

The battle lasted for almost twenty minutes before the dragon decided to flee. Seeing that, Aeron dusted off his apprentice robes and walked to 'his' mentor.

The man snorted in irritation about the dragon's escape but wasn't willing to chase after it, he then focused his gaze on the boy that was walking in his direction.

The Shade glared at the boy unintentionally "So you are alive" he said holding his staff firmly.

Aeron nodded "I was lucky, if the attack actually connected a bit higher I would probably be dead."

The mage visible relaxed "Well, at least you had the good sense to stay back. Many young fools charge blindly to their deaths. Now come, it's time that we return to the city, I used up too many of my spells to be gallivanting outside its walls" he said before walking off.

Aeron smirked "Yes master!" he said and rushed to walk behind the man. A frown soon crossed his face, he will have to change the name at some point – Marik simply didn't fit him.

The journey lasted almost four hours, and few words were exchanged by the two. But finally they spotted the dark shapes flying around their destination. Thousand of veserab riders were patrolling the city's walls, armed with disintegrator pikes. Not even the fiercest dragons were brave enough to challenge them, even in a duel. So great was an Archmage's power that a dragon, even with his magic resistance would fall quickly under the magic barrage. Unlike Mystra's magic that could be negated by magic resistance Shar's gift, the shadow magic ignored such defenses easily.

When they entered the city Fazir send Aeron to his house. Seeing as how he didn't contribute to the fight his task will be cleaning the mess the man's experiments made in the lab, while the old mage left to take a hot bath and relax his muscles.

Aeron smiled And so it begins.

XXXX

Thulthantar - 234 years ago

Aeron had to admit he didn't like his mentor. He didn't have anything against doing the mundane tasks that the man wanted done, it wasn't even the superior attitude that Fazir practically oozed.

No, what annoyed him was the man's constant reminders how to do things he′s done for years already. The first time he told him how to craft a wand he listened carefully, the second time he did the same, the third time he thought the mage was only being careful. But after three BLOODY years and probably a hundred wand′s he made, the old fool still tried to explain the step by step procedure of wand crafting.

Even the man's shadow mastiff has probably remembered how to make a bloody wand of magic missiles. Aeron wasn't certain if the wizard should be commended for his teaching dedication or strangulated for his insufferable meddling. For him the word self initiative meant that he should stand behind his students and comment how to hold a spoon the right way.

There was no doubt in Aeron's mind – the man will suffer a fatal accident in the near future.

At least by the rate he was mastering the arcane arts he will not need to be the man's apprentice for much longer. The good side was that his melee combat instructor was much better. A direct man that spoke only when required. People generally assumed that wizard's and sorcerers were helpless without their magic, well that was not entirely true.

The first day he appeared for training he was given a choice what weapons he wanted to specialize in.

The choice was not easy, he loved all kinds of killing implements. Some might ask why would a spellcaster even bother with learning such things, but anyone who ever found himself inside an anitmagic area would agree that versatility was a necessity if one wanted to survive. There was hardly a Shadovar mage or otherwise that didn't know to use a longsword. On Toril those who didn't diversify their arsenal either died quickly or gave up on further training and became merchants and craftsmen.

He inspected the katana first, the Djins bought them on the island kingdom of Wa and sold them all over the place. Unfortunately this weapon was not designed for the Faerunien battlefield. No mater how sharp its blade it would still fail to penetrate plate armor, or even cut chainmail, and what was even worse required the use of both his hands making spellcasting very difficult. A skilled swordsman would probably use his mobility and tire a knight down and then kill him by attacking weak spots like under the arms, but in actual battles there was simply no time for such tactics, not to mention that plate armor wasn't as cumbersome as people believed. Thanks to the good weight distribution a man could do acrobatics in plate, so the person with the katana wouldn't even have the mobility advantage.

Not to mention if he crafted a shadowstuff sword it made any longsword as sharp as a katana produced from the same material, and both would still do nothing against enchanted armor. The longsword also possessed better thrusting properties, so he dismissed the badly balanced, two handed eastern sword.

He then took a rapier...good choice but again, it was more like the katana a weapon for duels, not something you would rely upon in an actual battle. Especially not when facing multiple heavily armored opponents, even if it did poses superior thrusting capability.

He shook his head, probably the best option would be to stick with the longsword. Its versatile nature can be easily improved upon with different materials and enchantments. To compliment it Aeron also selected a dagger for the off-hand, a parrying dagger with a large handguard to be more precise.

Well, Shadovar are immortal so he will definitely master other weapons in time simply because he could, but for now better to stick with something simple. Unlike an elf, humans are quick learners and can master in a few years what the pointy ears needed decades for.

He stepped in front of his teacher and presented the sword and dagger.

Igran looked at them "Two weapons style? A lot of work..." He said before correcting Aeron's grip and stance. "And the main weapon is?"

"The dagger" said the boy.

"Against knights in plate armor slashing weapons won0t do you much good, but the dagger can easily fit through the visor or the weak spots of the armor so it balances things somewhat out" He said as he took a blunt sword and shield combination "Try to attack me."

Aeron's muscle tensed This will be tricky. Any attack he launched on him will be either blocked by the shield making him exposed to his sword, or he could parry with the sword and bash him with the shield...not to mention the plate armor wasn't that heavy and allowed the user to even make backflips and such...

Either way he would get a good beating. Aeron then spotted one of the basic weaknesses of the armor, or more precise the helmet. It had a limited vision, the man would fail to see a good flanking attack.

"What are you waiting for? Your enemy wont give you the time to stop and think, you have to do that as you fight."

Aeron chuckled "No they won't, at least not if they are smart" he said as he stabbed at his teacher with the sword but quickly pulled back as the shield intercepted the attack and Igran countered with a strike that Aeron dodged. Using the lost momentum that all swinging weapons have he launched forward, his sword again impacted with the shield but his dagger easily went around it ready to pierce the mans underarm...only to be pushed back by the instructors greater strength and body mass.

"Not bad for a brat" Igran said before he charged forward, but thanks to Aeron's smaller size he managed to evade most of his blows. And those that he didn't evade...well pain is also part of life. It reminds us that we are indeed alive, or in Aeron's case brought him unspeakable pleasure...

The spar lasted for a good half an hour before Aeron received a rather nasty hit to his knee, crippling his movements and receiving a shield bash to the face, ending the training session then and there.

Igran snorted "F-finaly g-got you you little w-weasel" he gasped between breaths "But I have to give you credit, you have a good eye and mind. Most green horns simply charge head on. You can go home now, and tell Fazir that he still owes me money for that werewolf blood I gave him."

Aeron stood up, and found another use for his wooden sword – a improvised crutch. The dull blade was rather handy now that he had to limp back to Fazir's home, at least until the kneecap healed properly.

His time will now have to be divided between combat and magic lessons. This will be a rather long nine years.

XXXX

Toril, Faerun, Evereska - 160 years ago

Aeron ducked behind a dead tree as the lightning bolt struck into its trunk, setting the tree ablaze. That was close thought the necromancer.

Ever since the Shade Enclave was summoned back to Faerun the shadovar were engaged in fighting the phearimm on the front lines across the continent, and that included him...and the assassin had to admit the thornbacks were fast.

The shadovar caught the aberrations in the beginning by surprise and succeeded to eradicate a large portion of their army, but those losses were quickly replenished by the mind slaves the phearimm gathered all over the place, not that it will help them in the long run. The shadovar plan to use the shadowshell to starve the phearimm out was working rather well, soon they will be too weak to present any resistance at all.

Only the elves were against such tactics...but nobody cared about what they though, in the eyes of the shadovar Evereska was an acceptable loss for the extermination of their ancient foe.

But until then, they were tasked with eliminating what forces the phearimm had at their disposal at the moment. And since the battlefront was larger than their current number of troops, they were stretched rather thin. Escanor had them operating outside the elvish city divided into teams of seven, where they can ambush the spellcasting mind slaves of the thornbacks, rendering their fodder armies into mobs without any magic support.

"Having fun?" asked a fellow shadovar as they both cast their spells at the phearimm that swiftly teleported away from the attack.

Aeron grinned "You bet, I should thank the thornbacks for bringing all the nice playthings for me to kill" ...What's the guy′s name again?

The other shadovar raised an eyebrow "I thought your bloodlust would evaporate quickly after that" he pointed at the still regenerating stump of Aeron's left arm.

Aeron glanced at his still absentee arm and shrugged "This? It's only a flesh wound. It could be worse, the stray disintegration ray could have taken of my head, now that would be a pain to regenerate."

The other shadovar laughed at the necromancer's comment "Yea, being dead and all."

Aeron smirked "How true" but became serious fast "how many did we lose?"

"I don′t know about the whole front, but our group lost three" he answered.

Aeron nodded. That means only four of them are left to stop the next attack "If we ask them nicely, do you think they will stop the assault so we can replenish our spells?"

"Why don′t you go over there and ask them, I'm sure they will be more than pleased to accommodate your wish."

"I would gladly go, but would probably insult them by not shaking hands" commented Aeron.

"It seems nothing ever brings you down...and here they come again" the Shadovar said.

A rather large group of gnols, orcs, humans, elves, drow and other humanoids was advancing on their location, now that would not be a problem if it was not supported by beholders, ilithids and probably at least one invisible phearimm ready to unleash a storm of deadly magic attacks on their position.

The four remaining shadovar melted into their shadows and moved to the beholder and ilithind positions. A gray hand emerged from a beholder's shadow "Finger of Death" killing it instantly. Three more beholders died in a similar way.

Aeron emerged behind an ilithid and cut it in two with his shadowblade, only to feel a beholder's antimagic gaze sweep over him. Well so much for my Stoneskin and Missile protection thought the necromancer.

The offending beholder was swiftly dispatched by a fellow shadovar, but he had no time or protective spells left to renew his magical defenses. He was a good enough fighter, but his skill were more for assassination, not holding the line with six other shadovar against hundreds...well three other shadovar now.

He swiftly dodged a disintegration ray another beholder fired at him. Taking his dagger between his thumb and index finger he threw it directly in the beholder's central eye, the thing roared in pain before Aeron's sword silenced it permanently.

One of the ilithids managed to get close enough to a shadovar and incapacitate him with a psionic blast, the helpless mage never registered the ogre with a huge adamantium maul swinging the weapon down on his head, splattering the man's brain all over the place.

How in the nine hells did that beast acquire that thing?! "Vampiric touch" Aeron said before touching the ilithid with his remaining hand. He grinned as the life force of the mind flayer was transferred to him, healing his arm instantly and killing his prey. He didn't really have much time to flex his now healed fingers before he had to dodge the ogre's swing.

To his surprise the ogre actually managed to continue his attack with surprising force and speed. Aeron scowled, there was definitely a phearimm hiding somewhere. He ducked the next swing and slashed at the brutes hand...and failed to sever the arm.

So it has Haste and Stoneskin...any other surprises?

"Having some problems?" asked one of the shadovar as he slashed an enslaved drow warrior across the neck.

Aeron grinned "This reminds me on the spars with Igran when I was still a brat."

"You are not even a century old, that makes you still a brat in my eyes" Igran commented as he joined the remaining two shadovar in his unit.

"Ah commander I knew you cared" Aeron joked, but had do dodge another swing from the ogres maul "Anyone of you have a spell remaining? A dispell would be nice" he said.

"Sorry, all out. Ask me tomorrow" the Shadovar on his right quipped.

Suddenly a fireball exploded on their position, but the Shadovar magic resistance prevented any harm...this time, next time they may not be as lucky.

The ogre is preventing us from looking for the phearimm, how irritating.Thought the necromancer as he tried to keep out of the brutes range. The thing wouldn't be a problem if he had his spells, but with his magic arsenal depleted he had to think of something else.

"At least most of the fodder charged the elven defenses without spellcaster support" Igran commented as he ducked under a gnol's halberd and stabbed the beast in the chest. Igran smirked as the beast collapsed on the ground "All this dodging reminds me of you Aeron."

"Well you are free to block the giant maul with your sword if you wish" Aeron commented.

"Yes, because it's only logical to block a weapon heavier then me in plate armor with a toothpick" the other shadovar added his opinion to the discussion as he exploited an opening and slashed at the ogres left leg. Once again the sword impacted harmlessly on the monster's Stoneskin.

Aeron knew they didn't really have that much time to dance around this foe. The brute would probably have a lot of stamina, not to mention the phearimm can renew the spells all day long, even drop a fireball that they won't be able to resist.

The assassin dashed forward under the ogre's strike, but instead of attacking directly he turned right. The ogre was ready to follow him when Igran's longsword impacted on its enchanted skin forcing the thing to focus its attention on the closer threat. That gave Aeron enough of a distraction, he pulled five throwing daggers and launched them at the ogre's exposed back.

Three bounced back from the Stoneskin enchantment but two of them managed to penetrate in the skin making the beast roar in pain. The wound was really trivial itself, but the poison on the blades was definitely not. The ogre's size will make the venom take a minute longer but it was dead, it just didn't know it.

As expected a new Stoneskin was instantly placed on the thing.

The three shadovar continued to evade the ogre's strikes and had to occasionally evade lightning bolts or fireballs thrown at them, but it was obvious the poison was taking its effect. Even with its enchanted speed it was getting slower, its strikes less quick and precise, until it started to gasp for breath and collapsed on its knees.

Because of the poison the ogre failed to defend itself against the shadovar that now switched from defense to offense, cutting and stabbing at their weakened foe, removing all the new layers of protection on it.

That was enough for Igran to ram his sword though the beast's head leaving it to fall over dead.

"You are not the best fighter I ever saw, but you definitely deserve to be called the best assassin currently in Thultantar" Igran remarked.

Aeron ignored the comment, even if there were better fighters than him, Igran was not one of them. The old mage lost as many spars as he won, mostly because his former mentor was a sucker against feints "Do you think the thornback evacuated the dance floor? It would have attacked by now..."

The commander shrugged "Probably, they do prefer to have their thralls do the fighting."

The trio gazed over the wasteland that was once a vibrant forest that the elves of Evereska called home, and defended against anyone not of elven descent. There were no trees growing anymore, no grass could be seen...the land was dead like Anaroch itself.

Only in the distance could vegetation be seen where the elven defenders were holding up against the phearimm advance.

Aeron used his foot to push a Ilithid corpse face up, it wont be long until the aberration started to decompose...regrettable, if he had any spells at the moment he could reanimate the dead to attack the invaders from the rear.

Igran saw Aeron's interest in the corpse "Don't worry there are more of them, you can always catch some later."

"I don't see why anyone would bother, they are weak" interjected the other shadovar.

Igran and Aeron exchanged glances "You do know that we lost T'eys against a Mind Flayer that would be nothing more than a civilian in their society, don't you?"

That surprised the young shadovar "What do you mean civilian? He used psyonics!"

"That's like saying I used my fists, if any of those Ilithid was a Psion or Psychic Warrior we would be dead" commented Igran "magic of the mind should never be underestimated, especially when you have zero spells at your disposal."

"Technically we would be dead by the phearimm's Fireball, we only survived through dumb luck" mused the necromancer.

"Bite your tongue Aeron, luck is simply the advantage one gains by executing the correct course of action."

"Nonsense" snorted Aeron "if Tymora or Bashaba heard such rubbish not even Shar could save you."

"Do you two ever stop bickering?" inquired the other shadovar soldier.

"No, that would be boring" was Aeron's reply as he glanced back to Evereska where the horde attacked "...do you think we should go help the pointy ears deal with the fodder?"

"By everything unholy are you still bloodlusted? Aeron you never change" Igran laughed "How did Fazir ever managed to keep you on a leash will be a mystery" he smirked at Aeron then "If that accident in the laboratory didn't kill him I think you would still be doing the A-B-C of wand crafting."

A large grin appeared on Aeron's face, understanding what his superior was really talking about "Shar have mercy on his soul, but the man was annoying. I personally don't miss his meddling" Not to mention it was rather easy to change the labels on the chemicals he planed to use for his experiment, the paralytic poison gas that was released was only the appetizer, he died in agony for three minutes before the corrosive gas reached such density that it actually started to dissolve organic mater. How very unfortunate for the wizard that a antimagic field suddenly appeared and disabled the man's ring of poison immunity...the same ring that was now on the assassin's left hand.

"We better return to the camp, without spells I don't wish to fight another assault like this one" said Igran. The other two remaining shadovar nodded. "So how many did you get today? I have five phearimm, thirteen beholders, two ilithid, five drow, forty orcs, nineteen humans and seven gnols."

"I killed two phearimm, four beholders, seven ilithid, and have no idea how much fodder" replied the other shadovar.

Aeron scratched his head Oh yea we were supposed to count them..."Let me think...I stopped counting around 9 phearimm, 11 beholders, one ilithid one elf and Cyric knows how much fodder."

"If you mean the she-elf that got caught inside your Horrid Wilting, she does not count – remember the rules, friendly fire subtracts kills, not the other way around" said Igran.

The other shadovar shook his head "I still don't understand why you converted to Cyric′s worship...the god′s insane, hell his worshipers kill each other more often then they kill enemies."

Aeron smirked "That's the beauty of it. Cyric won′t mind who I kill, if they are weak they die simple as that. And because there is no hierarchy I don't have to listen to anybody, except to follow Cyric's dogma." And it was a simple dogma, when in doubt, kill something.

"Enough! The day was too long to butt heads about religion" Igran said as he melted in his shadow, followed by Aeron and the other shadovar.

Thanks to the properties of the Shadow Plane, the walk back to the camp was swift. Aeron noted that only a few hundred veserab riders were in the camp. Strange, I thought that Lord Shadow would send more soldiers against the phearimm advance. He knew that they were operating multiple offensives against the known phearimm lairs on Faerun, but still, Evereska was a major battlefield, they should at least have twice their numbers.

He then followed Igran to Escanor's tent, so they could give a report to their superior.

The prince of Shade was currently looking over the maps of the region when he spotted the three shadovar enter "What news?" he asked.

"We managed to defeat the phearimm forces coming from the west, over the river Loudwater, but lost four during the skirmish. Two possessed the Clone spell so we should see them back in action in a few days, the other two will have to be resurrected by a cleric. On the other hand the elves are not going to hold much longer, from what I have seen they already enlist their children to hold the line" answered Igran.

Escanor snorted "Of course they are. The fools actually thought they can send their armies to fight the phearimm in the thornbacks backyard. The same creatures that destroyed the Sarrukh Empire, one of the five Creator races, the same creatures that eradicated the Great Beholder kingdoms, the same creatures that can turn ilithids into mind slaves" he snarled "and the filth that destroyed our Empire."

Escanor sneered "And against these creatures they send their soldiers to fight in the desert, laughable. I would call it ignorance if Melegaunt didn't warn them beforehand, now I simply call it stupidity."

The soldiers waited patiently until Escanor finished his rant about things they all already knew. It was somehow insulting to listen to this like they themselves weren't archmages but idiotic swordswingers that never opened a book in their lives.

"No matter, its no longer our concern what the fools do, we are ordered to march on the city of Tiverton in the Kingdom of Cormyr" said Escanor dismissively.

That on the other hand did surprise the assembled shadovar "What about the phearimm extermination?" asked Igran

"Let Evereska deal with them" he answered, ending any conversation.

The soldiers all nodded and hastened out of the tent to prepare for the withdrawal since it had to be done in twenty minutes.

The shadovar, accustomed to the darkness as any Underdark creature, quietly mounted their veserabs and in the dead of night left their elven and human allies to deal with the enemy as they pleased.

In the end all they received from the west and the pointy ears were insults, suspicion and discourtesy.

Aeron flew alongside Igran in the organized veserab columns, he was not happy with leaving the battle but at least they were going to another one. It made no difference to him if he killed aberrations or humans, it was all fair game as long as he could enjoy the glorious destruction.

He griped his disintegrator lance firmly as the army increased its speed.

Glancing bellow, he watched the desert that expanded for miles.

But it will not remain a desert for long, with their magic this land will be green again. And it will support a lot of humans who will serve the future Empire. Since they won′t have the benefit of living in the Plane of Shadows they will have to undergo the ritual to become Shades, but this privilege will be given only to those who earn it. Many inhabitants will also be arriving from the Plane of Shadows as well. Meaning beside the Shadovar and their Krinth slaves, a large number of Shadar-kai would follow them to Toril, thankfully their little soul problem was rectified with Shar's help allowing them much more freedom. Aeron smirked I wonder, how will the drow react when the new races, creatures equally attuned to darkness, enters their territory. The Shadar-Kai will probably go into a battle frenzy. The race enjoys fighting the drow as much as they admired the Shades.

As they flew nearer to the Shade Enclave Aeron noticed that a rather large shadovar force has assembled, thousands of veserab riders, hundreds of dragons, sky ships and countless lesser creatures and allies that have joined forces with the returned Netheres Archwizards, all ready to reshape the borders of this world.

They won't probably all be marching on one city, with such a force even the whole of Cormyr would fall in a week...but it certainly showed the influence and power that Lord Shadow possessed.

A smirk crossed his face, Toril's future looks dark indeed.

XXXX

Toril, Faerun, southern Sword Coast - 149 years ago

"Did you find him?" asked a hooded human.

"No my lord."

Targan clenched his fist in frustration, he was a powerful priest of Bane, but since the Netherese cleansing of Zhentil Keep and Citadel of the Raven he was forced to hide in caves like some common scum of the Black Network.

He missed his luxurious silken bed and the slave girls that warmed him at night. The luck of the Zhentarim was rapidly getting worse ever since Cyric took control after the Time of Troubles. First the Mad God destroyed the Zhentil Keep in one of his deranged games. And after Bane returned and they finally repaired the damage, Shar's puppets burned everything to the ground.

And now this...

"Well stop wasting my time fool! Go and find the murderer!" he growled.

His trouble started a few weeks ago, and went from bad to worse rapidly. At first a soldier disappeared here and there, nothing new, Zhentarim were prone to desertion. But soon that number reached too high a number to be simple cowardice, so the guards were placed into groups of three and tasked to patrol the cavern system.

Since the disappearances stopped, all seemed to be back to normal again...until he found almost a hundred of his soldiers dead in the dining hall – all poisoned! And if that didn't scream unwanted guests then finding one of the Zhentarim wizards killed in his bed certainly did.

His attempt to communicate with the spirit of the dead mage failed. Who ever ended Basar's life also took his soul.

"We already searched the caverns and the tunnel system, we found nothing" growled a mercenary "We are finished here, only six of us can't operate this slaving ring."

Targan glared at the insolent man, but he was right. There were too few of them to continue the operation, but not in a thousand years will he crawl back to his superiors and tell them that he failed. If I relocate to a new location, I can start fresh. New mercenaries can be hired, and even if it takes longer it could still be successful.

The old banite snorted and placed his hand on the mans shoulder "Harm" killing the fool instantly. He then turned his glance to the other four, two humans and two orcs "Get all the treasure chests, we are leaving."

"To one of the Black Network safehouses?" asked another human mercenary hopefully.

"No, we will reestablish this branch in another fresh location...that reminds me" he grinned at the four "we still have an assassin running around" he pulled his mace out and smashed the closest man's head in, making the other three draw their weapons.

"If someone here is an assassin it is probably a human, and it would be better to cut the weed in the source" Targan said.

"Well you're human too!" raged the mercenary.

The cleric snorted "Yes, but this operation was my business, and I'm not some moronic cyricist to cut the branch I'm siting on for fun" he pointed at the two orcs "you two are not suspected, kill him so we can go already." Truth be told, he will kill the orcs as well, as soon he find some other peons to carry the gold, but for now they had their use.

The orcs glanced at each other and grinned, one griped his axe and the other aimed his crossbow at the human swordsman. The man cursed before one of the orcs charged him and slashed at his head. The man parried the blow only to receive a crossbow bolt in the neck.

The swordsman fell on his knees choking on his blood, with his last strength he lifted his sword and attempted to charge the stupid creature only for a axe to split his head like a melon. The orcs grunted and howled in bloodlust, enjoying the senseless violence.

Targan grinned, orcs were perfect henchmen in his mind. Too stupid for treachery, and charged into danger without any thought of self preservation. Unlike Cyric, whose racism against orcs made them turn from his faith by the thousands Bane accepted all.

"You two, get the treasure chests, we are leaving" the cleric said.

The orcs grunted and went to do as ordered. Each grabbed one large chest filled with valuables and followed the banite through the tunnels out. The priest was in the middle of the group, leaving the orc with the axe to go first and the crossbow user last, carrying the heavy chests.

They didn't even reach the first level of the underground complex when...

"Arggg" the first orc cried as a sword cut him vertically in half. The two halves fell apart leaving warm entrails to spill on the cavern floor.

Targan stopped and pulled his mace, a spell already on his lips, the orc behind him dropped the chest and prepared the crossbow.

A shadovar! Targan mentally hissed. Are they going to hound us to the end of the world or what!

He was going to blast the shadowy figure in front of him with a spell when something hit him in the back.

He fell, landing hard on the tunnel floor, glancing behind him he saw the orc with the crossbow grinning at him.

"F-Filthy traitor! Bane will have your soul for this!" the priest cursed.

The greenskin chuckled "Ohh, how wrong you are banite" the orc said in a surprisingly pleasant, cheerful voice, very different from its usual grunting and snarling "do you think your impostor god will care what happens to a failure like you?" he asked.

The banite's eyes went wide This is bad. Only Cyric's faithful call Bane by that insolent name. And those lunatics are unpredictable as they are evil.

The orc's grin widened at the fear in the man's eyes "But I'm not a cruel person" it said before taking a moment to think about the statement "well, actually I am" he corrected, making the cleric even more afraid from the unstable orc.

"How about this...if you switch to Shar I would gladly spare your life."

"NEVER!" the banite spat "I would rather die then convert cyricist filth!"

The orc shrugged "Very well, but since you already decided, you should know that I will keep your soul in this nice little gem here" said the orc as he paraded a valuable stone in front of the priest "until I grow bored and sell it to the demons or give it as a present to Cyric" the orc smiled.

"N-NO! Wait I chang-"

But was silenced when the orc said "Trap the Soul" imprisoning the banite's body and soul in the gem he now twirled in his hand. He played this game with other priests before, tempted them to abandone their fate...and killed them anyway.

Banites were extremely susceptible to this, they serve Bane for promises of wealth and power and when faced with the possibility of loosing that, they are easy to convert...so unlike Cyric's faithful who live for spreading chaos and havoc, who find meaning in the purity of murder and intrigue without the promise of any material gain.

Soon the orc′s body started to morph and reform, until a white haired human stood in its place. The sword-carrying shadow in front of him also dissolved and oozed under his feet, returning where it belonged, including the shadovar sword.

He could never understand why Bane possessed the portfolio of fear.

People were afraid of unpredictable madman of the chaotic gods, not fat bureaucrats and petty tyrants like those that serve Bane. They hide behind laws and regulation because they don't have courage or power to be free, all they care about is money and know that you can get it the easiest way by taxes. They rarely fought for some emotional or higher purpose beside climbing the social ladder and filling their pockets. And their god was as big a fool as they were.

Aeron lost track on how many times Bane was tricked by mortals who promised him service for power. Bane delivered the power but only received the middle finger in return.

But enough about the divine retard, he had better things to do then think about the deity.

All together Aeron was pleased. He removed one more pest nest from the world, and found the locations of two more Zhentarim hideouts.

He opened his bag of holding and dumped the two treasure chest inside, now all he had to do was report to Escanor that the mission was a success. He was happy that he only had to debrief the fool, if he had to listen to him complain all day he would have murder him a long time ago irrelevant of the plan.

After the Pyrrhic victory at Tiverton he struck a bargain with the princes of Shade that none of them ever regretted.

Since his power was making them paranoid, thinking that he actuality wanted the oh, so precious positions they craved, he proposed a deal.

For letting him travel freely, without restraints he will stop any meddling in their affairs and structure. He will still do any assassinations they wanted, although as a hired killer.

He would gain freedom to act independently and still get the nice missions with high entertainment value.

After he plundered everything useful from the now cleansed Zhent base, he proceeded to walk to his next destination. He was aware that teleporting would be faster, but he so enjoyed to walk, especially through forests.

It's the only place where he could relax and forget his bloodlust for a time. There was rarely something as soothing as winds moving through the tree branches, or the lullaby of the waterfalls.

He actually was very fond of Eldath′s worshipers, yes they were naive pacifists, but they knew how to keep a nice patch of earth. In their grovess he actually allowed himself to relax a little.

The forest path turned right but Aeron ignored it and went straight into the wilderness.

After a lengthy walk Aeron came across the place he was looking for. This part of the forest was much the same as any other, green trees, lots of leaves, but the one thing that made this place different from others was the rather large tree that grew near the small stream in the middle of the clearing.

That particular tree was in fact the home of a acquaintance of his, a druid of Eldath called Tih the Badger. The old hermit was good in collecting different ingredients, especially some poisonous plants that Aeron needed since he used up most of what he already purchased.

But his idea was dashed aside rather fast when he saw the broken down door in the tree house. It was literally shredded to bits, claw marks were all over the place, and judging from the dust it was empty for some time.

Aeron shook his head What animal attacks druids in the middle of the forest? He wondered, as he approached the abandoned house and peeked inside. It was a small home, what else to expect from a hermit. Reaching the bed he saw that it was in a poor state, the sheets were all shredded, the pillow nowhere in sight.

He moved to examine the claw marks better. These look like werewolf claw marks Aeron snorted Malarites, looks like the Beast Lord found it smart to attack the pacifists without any possessions beside the grovess they maintained...how brave of him.

The necromancer then turned around and took in the scent around himself with his enhanced sense of smell, hoping to find some clues. It was exceptionally good in finding invisible or disguised enemies, but was regretfully not very good for tracking anyone by scent, he could only find things that were in his close proximity not those that were there before...he wasn't that good a hunter.

Also because of strong odors, like those made by his undead, because it would probably be intolerable it was mostly suppressed if not in a clean environment.

Nothing...well not surprising thought the shade as he stood at the entrance to the tree home.

Then he suddenly stopped, a familiar scent drawing his attention.

"What do you want Hadrhune."

Then in the shadow of the large tree two glowing, silvery eyes appeared "I have a business proposition for you, if you have the time" said the elven Shade, and the right hand of Lord Shadow.

"That depends, like always" grinned Aeron, putting the druid's predicament on hold.

The Shade nodded "As always regarding the payment, but the task this time is different...more personal."

Aeron raised his eyebrow So its not the usual assassination? "How about we talk about that somewhere else" said the necromancer as he produced a figurine from his bag, saying the trigger word made a shimmering door appeared, allowing the two Shades to enter in the magical mansion.

XXXX

The duo made themselves comfortable in the luxuriously furnished dining room as the magically animated servants served food and drink. Though he rarely used it himself, most dignitaries and business partners preferred the comfort it gave them. If anyone asked him they could have as easily talked while walking, though that would leave a lot of possibilities to overhear them, be it mundane or magical in nature.

"So what is it exactly that you wish from me my lord" said Aeron as he took a sip of wine from his glass.

"I need you to take an apprentice" said the other shadovar.

"An apprentice? I hope there is more to it than that, I'm busy enough with Escanor's trivial tasks."

Hadrhune scowled "There is, the girl you would teach is my daughter."

That statement made Aeron stop in his tracks, the glass in his hand forgotten "Your daughter? I wasn't aware you had one."

"A result of my younger days" explained the Shade dismissively "she lived with her mother until a week ago, but her demise left the child now alone."

Normally people would ask why didn't he take her in as her father, but Aeron understood that the elf was too absorbed in his ambition to bother with the child. What surprised him that Hadrhune cared at all, he would have expected the elf to ignore his child's plight entirely.

"I think I understand...but again, why me? Thultanthar isn't short on able magic tutors, unless you think that they will use her somehow against you."

"Unlike the others, you are discrete...as unfathomable as it sounds. Also you operate orphanages in practically every larger community on the Sword Coast, spending a lot of resources on offspring that isn't even yours, what is one more."

Aeron chuckled "Children are like a blank scroll, you never know what they might contain...a mundane shopping list...or perhaps a powerful spell" grinned the necromancer. The children in his orphanages received the best education on could get, from writing and mathematics to poison use, swordplay or picking locks...whether they will be paladins or thieves was not his concern, his only wish was that they were the best in whatever they did...and if luck was on his side, they will entertain him on some battlefield.

In his opinion, one could never have enough enemies.

"Well here is another blank you could train" said the elf.

"And what would I get for this boring task?"

"This" said the diviner as he placed a heavy tome on the table "in here you can find the work of Calispar Delgorth, a priest of Talona that has found a way to make poisons that are immune to magic cures."

Now that was interesting "If I'm not mistaken, that is only possible within dead-magic zones...if that is true then its a huge problem" mussed Aeron. While shadow magic wasn't unusable inside them like normal magic, it still required him to be bound to a certain location if he wanted to produce such poisons.

"True, but in the book you will also find the Rite of Unwinding, or at least the wizard equivalent of the ritual. It will allow even a wizard to create an ever-expanding dead-magic zone."

Aeron couldn't help but laugh "Magnificent! This information truly is worth my full dedication."

Hadrhune stood up, leaving the book on the table "Then we have an accord, I will teleport her tomorrow, the rest is up to you."

"As you wish my lord" said the grinning necromancer, the elf either truly cared for his daughter or he had some use for her...and considering that both of them were sociopaths his bet was on the later...a pawn most likely...

Not that it maters chuckled Aeron as he sat in the chair, staring in the wine held in his hand...though, she is a child and children need company of their kind, perhaps it would be best if I picked up a few others so she wouldn't be alone.

Like his usual paranoid self his form shifted until an elven woman sat in the chair, if he was teaching an elven girl then this body should fit better.

But first...

He left the house and pulled a small black spherical object from his bag. "Escanor" he said and placed the item on the ground.

Soon the area around him darkened, all light simply disappearing to be replaced with a humanoid silhouette, almost invisible in the shadows that surrounded it if not for the two glowing malevolent eyes.

The figure glared at Aeron before responding "Report."

"Report? I'm hurt Escanor, we didn't talk in years and all you have to say is the same thing whenever I finish a mission" Aeron pouted.

Escanor would have found it amusing if it was an actual female elf talking to him and not a gender confused clown that loved to get under everyone's skin for a few laughs.

He could say that he demanded reports since he found mission success or failure rather important, but reasoning with Aeron would get him nowhere, it would only end in another senseless argument about moon cheese and the ultimate evil that are the penguins.

"Stop staling already" the shadovar prince growled.

Aeron rolled his eyes "You are no fun. Is the only thing you care about getting ahead of your brothers?"

"Yes" was the short, boring reply.

Aeron shrugged It seems his tolerance to me has increased. Might as well give the bloody report since I will have no laughs from him "As with the last report I came in, killed a guard, impersonated him, killed more guards, poisoned the rest, tried orkish stew, you know the orcs are not very bad at cooking, mostl-"

"I DON'T CARE FOR YOUR EATING HABITS! GIVE ME THE IMPORTANT INFORMATION!" Escanor shouted, he really didn't know if Aeron did this on purpose, but if not then he either was abysmal in summarizing information or he had a serious case of ADHD.

Oh yea I still got it Thought Aeron with a grin "Well why didn't you say so, honestly you people are so impatient." He said shaking his head theatrically "The infiltration was a success, the Zhentarim were all eliminated, their operations stopped. Two new Zhentarim bases were discovered on the Sword Coast, I will deal with them as with the rest."

"Good, you should make haste before my brothers find them. I wish that the destruction of the Black Network remains my achievement."

"I will make my way as soon as possible, for now I have an apprentice to train" Aeron said in a serious voice.

That got Escanor's attention Apprentice? "Who is this apprentice?"

"An elven girl named Frost, I think she has potential to be a potent mage-assassin" Aeron half-lied, it's true she probably had the potential, but it certainly wouldn't be greater than that of any other person. She will also need a pseudonym if she was going to associate with him...he had a lot of enemies and many would get the bright idea to harm him through her. In fact there were only two categories of people in his opinion, enemies and potential enemies.

That way he would never get bored.

"I take it that she is the reason for this masquerade?"

Aeron grinned and made a sexy pose "You don't like it?" winking at his superior.

"You are disgusting."

Aeron laughed "I try. But that coming from the man that got killed by his rape victim is rather amusing."

The shedovar prince glared at the insolent brat. The worst is he was actually killed by that Vasan bitch, if he didn't have the Clone spell he would have to be revived by his brother Rivalen and that would be too much for his pride to handle.

"Watch your tongue!" the prince hissed "or your little apprentice will have an unfortunate accident" he could do nothing against Aeron, but that protection didn't extend to the people he associated with.

Aeron made a zipping motion across his mouth, he didn't really care if Escanor killed the girl, but that would unnecessarily antagonize Hadrhune who was a step above the fool. He will deal with the prince, with them both, when the time is right, he was a patient lunatic.

When the fool died he was rather intrigued how it happened, imagine his surprise when he found out that the idiot was killed by one of their own soldiers. And for what? Well petty spite of course. Escanor didn′t care about the woman, but he hated the elf she liked, so he raped her to spite him.

Aeron would have given her a medal for killing him, too bad the fool didn′t stay dead, his life would be so much easier working for one of the more level headed princes.

It was good that shadovar didn′t care much for siblings, so the woman was not persecuted by his brothers or Lord Shadow. That was the beauty of shadovar society, your accomplishments were yours alone...as were your failures.

Escanor smiled showing of his needle sharp teeth So he cares about the elven girl, finally something that I can use against him.

"I will keep my brothers in the dark about the Zhentarim, you will hurry up with the child's training, am I understood?"

Aeron though for a second, he could always pretend he didn′t hear him and piss the prince even more off, or accept. It's not like Escanor's demands were unreasonable, he actually won't be bound to this place long since, unlike human children that need stability elves are far more flexible and are accustomed to life on the road.

Aeron nodded "Will be done."

Escanor's image faded letting the sun pierce the darkness. Aeron picked the item up and returned it into the bag, turning around he went back to the house, he still has work to do.

Aeron waived his hands and repaired all the damage done by the werewolf. He then decided that he might as well make something to eat, it will warm the house up for its new owners.

Perhaps a loaf of warm bread would be nice.

XXXX

The next day at dusk Aeron in his now elven form stood in front of the tree house with two children he found...with some difficulty.

The first one was a human girl...well rather than a human she was a dhampire. Her mother was attacked by a vampire and had her blood drained while pregnant with little Anna. Neither of her parents survived the encounter with the undead except her thanks to the appearance of the local priest who destroyed the bloodsucker. But she was also permanently changed into a human afflicted with mild vampirism so to say.

While she was a living person that could feed on blood and would not die from old age, she was still somewhat weakend in the sunlight...

The other one was a elven boy named Nalfein, a rather bright lad from the Eastmyr district in Menzoberranzan. It was a pain in the neck to persuade him to take his offer, drow were xenophobic and weren't known for their trust in anyone, that went double for elves, triple for elven females and quadruple when that elven female asked him to come with her to the surface. But ambition prevailed, when Aeron promised him free lessons in the arcane arts that would allow him to rise over his common heritage and escape the whims and whips of Lolth's priestesses.

With them here he hoped that Hadrhune's daughter will have not only someone to bond with, but also compete against...competition is as important as is to work together in some cases.

With a flash of light two other figures appeared in front of them.

Hadrhune in his usual generic wizard robes and staff fashion, and a small elven girl that looked rather disoriented by the teleportation spell. Normally Shades looked like normal humans in sunlight, but when in darkness their true form was revealed to others. The skin was grayish, their eyes shone gold or platinum and their teeth morphed into needle sharp fangs that even a dragon could envy. But because such an appearance was rather intimidating, most Shades concealed such features with magic, or in Aeron's case shapeshifting.

Though the Shades had the appearance of beautiful monsters they were still very much humans.

"My lord" said Aeron in a feminine voice.

Hadrhune nodded "Aeron, this is my daughter Ester" he then glanced down at the child "Ester this is your magic teacher, I expect good progress."

"Can't I stay with you father?" she pleaded, even though she was intimidated by his cold personality he was still her parent, her only parent.

"No" was his annoyed reply "I'm busy, and so will you be" then in another flash of light the elf disappeared.

Ester could only watch as her father left her behind.

"Ester, what a beautiful name" said Aeron as he sat on the ground so he wouldn't look down on the children "as you have heard from Hadrhune I will be your mentor for some time" the necromancer looked at the two other "you should also introduce yourself."

"I'm Nalfein" said the drow proudly, a ring of tongues translating his undercommon in something Ester understood.

"I'm Anna" was the dhampire's monotone response.

Both children were rather cold and distrusting to other people since they lived in a environment that had such an effect on them. Any male drow born in Lolth's matriarchal society learned fast to fear the females and their whips. Anna was a special case, because of her vampiric connection she was tolerated in her goodly community but nothing more than that, most people, especially children avoided her because of her condition.

"I'm Ester" said the elven girl meekly, intimidated by the glowing red eyes of the two children.

Aeron smiled "Now that we all know each other time to explain how the training will go" he pulled three rings from his pocket "these are Rings of Sustenance, they will help to better utilize our time with study and training" and tossed the rings to the trio who nimbly caughed them.

"What do they do?" asked Anna.

"They will sustain us" snorted the drow, causing the dhampire to glare in his direction.

"Indeed Nalfein is correct, it will allow your body to work without food, water and little sleep. It will take effect after a week, and shouldn't be taken off because the effect will be broken and another week would have to pass before it starts again" explained the Shade and pointed at the tree house behind them "this will be our residence for the duration of the training...don't worry about the size of the tree, I expanded the interior by magic so everyone could have his own room."

"So we will live in this mushroom?" asked the drow in poorly masked disdain.

Anna laughed at the boy "Mushroom? Don't you know what a tree is?"

The mocking tone of the dhampire made the drow return her glare and then some "No I don't, there are no triss in the Underdark."

Before the argument could continue Aeron stood up "Why don't you go inside and take a look around, there are a few Unseen Servants going around, they are yours to command but for now they will be preparing the dining room."

The children made their way inside the tree house, even with Aeron enlarging it with magic it was still on the small side. Unseen Servants were carrying different foodstuff and drinks to the table in the center of the room. The table was also a bit on the small side, for six people at most, but it will be enough.

The children sat around the table and started to take what caught their fancy...mostly the desserts and tankards of juice.

"When you finish your meal, pick your rooms and we will see each other tomorrow."

XXXX

The three elves and one dhampire stood in the clearing facing each other. Aeron, while still shifted in a elf was now only the size of a child himself since it will make it easier to train the trio.

"Now we will start the training with simple daggers, when you master them we will find a weapon that suits you better" said the necromancer as he threw daggers in front of their feet.

That startled the children and made them jump a step back.

"First a dagger is usually not the best weapon one can use in battle, except as a supplement with another larger one or a buckler. Its purpose is to kill people who can't defend themselves, though it's good in stabbing armored opponents" he told them as he tossed his dagger in the air easily caching it as it fell down "if you are forced into combat with only a dagger, you should seriously consider retreating."

The drow frowned "Is there a purpose to learn how to fight with it?"

"Yes. It is a small and lite weapon that can easily be concealed. If by some chance you are underestimated or captured it could prove a lifesaver. Also most spellcasters in Netheril are proficient in both melee and magic combat since it is too often that our enemies are either rather resilient against magic or can utilize antimagic that allows them to simply physically overpower a spellcaster striped off his spells."

And that wasn't an exaggeration, even the common Netherese foot soldier and guard had at least some skill in magic, and were equipped with masterwork if not outright magic weapons.

Ester nodded and took the weapon "Will you also use a dagger?" she asked.

Normally Aeron would have used his magic to zap his opponent with low level electric jolts. But he now had to play it differently.

"No. I will use a stick, but remember that instead of blocking you evade my attacks. In combat dodging is far more efficient than parrying attacks."

As soon as he said that he dashed forward and placed the tip of his stick under Ester's jugular "Start" he said with a smile.

Anna smirked while Nalfein grinned.

That made the elven girl pout "You cheated!"

"Naturally, all combat is deception and trickery. Someone would tell you it's skill, but that's a lie. A far better swordsman could easily fall for his opponent's feint and lose the battle in a split second."

"...so I should cheat?"

"Always" confirmed the assassin.

She nodded and prepared for round two.

They practiced for hours, and while the children were naturally dexterous enough to use the blades easily, they were far from being proficient with them...well, with the exception of Anna.

It will probably be days before the other two manage to master the weapon adequately, unlike a human that could master the same moves in less then half the time elves were a bit on the slow side.

He will also need to teach them how to hunt and forage for food. Even he with his magic shortcuts knew how to do it. That includes knowledge about herbalism, which is extremely useful since it can be expanded in how to create poisons.

Magic lessons could wait for now.

XXXX

Time passed quickly as they learned, that also included Aeron that had a Mithosis Puppet working in his demiplan, researching the book that was given to him by Hadrhune or conducting some other magical experiment.

Concerning how the children interacted with each other, the trio didn't have a wonderful start. They were fiercely competitive and tried to outpace the others in every possible domain. Ester and Anna managed to form a rivalry/friendship combination that made them actually enjoy their time here.

Nalfein was the odd one out since he was the only boy in a house full of woman...or so he thought. Aeron being male was finally revealed when he send his shadow to spar with the brats, and since shadows once detached from the original body take the caster's true shape the trio quickly connected the dots. The drow concentrated on his studies and was mostly entangled in a shouting match with Anna, the two spend more of their time arguing or outright insulting each other than anything else.

After the children mastered the dagger they moved to other things. Anna found herself intrigued by the power a necromancer had over the dead, making even the powerful vampires their servants. The dhampire was the easiest to teach in his opinion, she did daily trips to his demiplane to study under his copy, and participate in morbid experiments on both undead and the excavated corpses of all manner of creatures.

Nalfein and Ester on the other hand were not that simple, they didn't realy know what they wished to do in the future so Aeron gave them some books regarding different arcane spellcasting possibilities.

The drow was the most ambitious of the group dabbling in the mysteries of the Darklight Wizard, Ur-Priest and Mystic Thurge with a passing interest in the arts of the Duskblade...in any case the boy had no idea how big a bite he took when he made that decision.

Ester appeared to have some inborn magic ability, certainly one of the reasons that Hadrhune wished his daughter trained in the arcane arts. Sorcerers were regarded highly in the Empire because they naturally possessed what the Netherese valued most – magic.

But that also made it a bit harder to train her because of the limitations sorcerers possessed.

All three received new pseudonyms, a necessity since using ones real name carries a lot of dangers both mundane and magical in nature. Ester was named Frost, Nalfein became Rain and Anna was renamed Mist. It took them some time to get used to their new names but they managed.

Also they specialized in different weapons. Frost used a chain since it allowed her to trip and bind opponents. It was also rather good for defense since any blade striking the thick chains wont be able to harm her in any way.

Mist went with a pollaxe and Rain with a Double Kusarigama, since they would allow him to channel his spells through them.

There was a simple reason that those weapons were chosen over any other.

The weapons had reach and were good in close combat, making them ideal for either delivering touch spells at range in the case of duskblades or simply keeping your opponent on a distance.

They were also contemplating their own familiars, though it was still too early for them. Rain was most likely going with a eyeball beholder, and Mist fancied to have an imp. Only Frost was unsure what she wanted, she didn't wish to enslave any creature and use it in combat so a item familiar was probably a good pick if she so chose.

XXXX

The day was scorching hot and the dhampire and drow duo decided to stay indoors, away from the infernal orb in the sky as they called it. Aeron agreed and allowed them to spend the day in his demiplane with his copy, learning what they could.

Aeron or rather Eil'Ky as he was called when they sometimes made their way to a city or a village, washed Frost's hair under the small waterfall that was conveniently near the hermits treehome.

Bubbles slowly formed on her head as he rubbed the cleaning liquid in. Personally he avoided anything that had a scent, it was rather inconvenient in his line of work...he would die of shame the day when his targets sniffed him out because some strawberry fragrance.

"O'Si" she said slowly "I hate orcs."

Aeron found that normal, people hated orcs simply for being orcs even if they never encountered one. Regrettably Frost had the unfortunate experience to bond with a tribe of migrant wild elves only to see their camp slaughtered by the brutes...there were no survivors.

"I'm going to hunt them all down" she said coldly.

Now that...wasn't good.

"You mean for revenge?" Aeron said, perfectly mimicking a motherly voice.

Frost didn't say anything but she didn't have to, her clenched fists were all the answer he needed.

"Don't you hate them...for what they did?" she asked angrily.

Did he hate orcs? Not really. Would he kill them all for fun? Without a thought...now how to answer her question...

"Your mother wouldn't approve of revenge" he said "there are millions of orcs in this world, you would never managed to kill them all, not to mention not all orcs were responsible for this."

As the girl wanted to shout at him Aeron clamped her lips with his fingers "I'm not going to stop you from trying to do it, but following the road of vengeance will leave you in the end bitter and alone."

They stared in each others eyes "All the orcs you kill won't bring you happiness, it would only allow them to destroy one more life – your own" now that sounded cheesy...

As the girl cooled down he removed his fingers from her lips. He mentally scowled, he hated psychical contact, unless it was for the purpose of killing, but like always manipulation required it.

"My advice is not to chaise a futile cause. If a orc comes across your path kill it, but don't actively search them out. Instead focus on something that has a greater purpose beside staining the land with their filthy blood."

"Like what?"

Aeron smiled "How about you find a good elven boy to boss around?"

That made the little girl glare at him/her "O'Si you're so mean!" she pouted, but nevertheless hugged her. The necromancer understood why people craved physical contact when they were in emotional pain, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

Aeron returned the hug as he stroked her wet hair, it was his good luck that Frost was a naturally cheerful child and only a small kindness was enough to make her sadness disappear.

Frost didn't see his/her cold, heartless eyes that stared in the distance, Aeron could imitate warmth and compassion all he wanted, but no force in the world could make him actually feel it.

As they left the small stream, water gliding down their pristine white skin Aeron's enhanced sense of smell picked up a familiar scent...wolves, or rather a werewolf.

Unlike the assassin, Frost didn't sense anything strange as she ran barefooted on the soft grass.

The creature is rather close and most likely already saw us, or the rebuild house. I will have to keep a better watch over the children...he had no intention to let the lycantrop harm them in any way, too much time was already invested to allow that to happen.

"O'Si!" called the girl, now dressed in a simple green tunic and tights "Will you sing me a song?" she pleaded.

Well that was actually a good idea "How about I sing a song while we prepare some cinnamon apples on the campfire? Rain and Mist will probably be late as usual."

The small elven girl jumped up and down from joy.

They made a small number of the treats, and after a few songs Frost fell asleep. Since night was quickly approaching he decided that it was enough for the day.

Aeron put out the fire and carried her to bed.

XXXX

Grayfang watched the elves leave with barely restrained hunger.

The werewolf's claws made deep scares in a tree as he contemplated what to do. When he first stumbled on the two elves he wanted to feast on their flesh, especially the little girl's meat looked delicious...but the older one...there was something wrong with her.

Where his human brain told him to attack, his instincts told him to run. He found that strange, so he examined her more thoroughly. Her appearance was normal, but the smell...there was absolutely no smell on her.

First he thought that the strange strawberry fragrance of the child overpowered the scent of the elf woman...and he was right.

Anybody other would have missed it, but being a cleric of Malar came with a few benefits.

The she-elf smelled of death and decay. It was faint, but it was there, once exposed she literally reeked of unnatural wrongness.

So instead of attacking them he retreated back in the forest, but the thought of juicy elven meat simply didn't let him rest.

So he returned.

It would have perhaps been wiser to call for aid from the rest of his pack, but he simply didn't wish to share the tasty morsels. So he decided to wait until his prey went to their reverie.

He never saw the hands that emerged from the darkness, but he did feel when they grabbed his legs and pulled him into the void.

Grayfang disappeared from the face of Toril in a blink of an eye.

XXXX

Aeron washed his hand in the river. His delicate elven appearance made into a mockery by the blood sprayed on it.

The moon illuminated him and anyone watching would shudder at the insane grin and glowing platinum eyes that twisted his face.

Satisfied that his hands were clean, he striped his clothing and entered the water. It caressed his skin and he reveled in its cold embrace.

He will also need to clean his clothes with a spell, but that could wait. Suppressing his bloodlust was rather annoying, so when a opportunity presented itself for release he took it gladly...a prolonged period of abstinence made the feeling hundred times more pleasurable than if he simply slaughtered things everyday.

To stalk your prey, to look in its surprised fearful eyes...even thinking about it made his body twitch in delight. And finally the emptiness in the eyes when the life was finally extinguished...it was...pure euphoria.

He glanced at the moon and relaxed. The silence of the night giving peace to his boiling blood.

After two hours of soaking in the water he fixed his clothes and returned to the cabin. Frost must have woken up already and his other two apprentices were ready to return back from his demiplane.

Perhaps a short trip would break some of the monotony...

XXXX

Frost watched the city with undisguised interest, she was born and lived most of her life in Everlund, south from the great city of Silverymoon. It was a mercantile city, not unlike this place. But what really took her attention was the sea...never before had she seen it, a seemingly endless expanse of water as far as the eye could see.

And the scent...it was very different from those found inland. The pine tree aroma and the smell of salt was constantly in the air.

"Today is the Fair Seas Festival" said Aeron, now having the appearance of a dark haired halfling as he produced three small bags of gold coins "you can expect the city to be a bit crowded with both merchants and other folk, both groups will try to take away your coin, by pickpocketing or overpricing their wares, try to keep that in mind."

The children took the money and made sure to conceal it as good as they could. Both the drow and dhampire had to use a Alter Self spell so they could enjoy themselves amongst the townspeople. It was a useful little spell, the flexibility it offered the caster was very high...a trait found in many spells of the Transmutation school.

"What is the festival about?" asked Mist.

"It's to appease the goddess Umberlee with gifts and worship, it helps to keep ships safe from her temper."

Frost scowled "Isn't Umberlee an evil goddess?"

"Indeed she is" smiled Aeron "much like Lolth she is a chaotic and destructive deity that does as she pleases, turning the sea itself against those that catch her eye. But because she has power far surpassing those of mortals, and the other gods can't realy fault her for being what she is, most seafarers chose to bribe her to leave them alone."

"As it should be" nodded the drow.

"Of course you would see it like that" grumbled the elven girl.

"Well normally anything or anyone with power has a certain feeling of entitlement" mused Aeron "the best way to not get entangled in some bruised ego vendettas is to be careful how one deals with the entity. Both good and evil gods can be reasoned with as long as you avoid some of the occasional blunders."

"Occasional blunders?" the trio asked simultaneously.

Aeron hummed thinking how to best explain this "People have a tendency to insult higher powers that are differently aligned from them, a evil priest or a goodly paladin could literally stand in front of a god and deny them respect because they are evil, good, indifferent or realy anything else that the mortal disagrees with...believe me, they do it more often that one might imagine."

"That's stupid" snorted the drow.

"Well, paladins aren't known for their great intelligence...or even wisdom" was all Aeron could comment. The constant duels weren't what annoyed him about the 'holy' warriors, it was their preachyness...why couldn't they skip the moral gospel and simply ram the accursed sword through his black heart. It wasn't so hard, he even demonstrated it often enough to them, usually on their comrades or the paladin in question...though the last example probably made any attempt to learn redundant.

"So, can we go?" said the bored dhampire.

"Sure" answered the assassin.

Rain and Mist didn't wait for the shadovar to change his mind and give any more advice before they stormed off and disappeared inside the crowd. Both were thrilled to finally move freely without having to fear or suffer discrimination from others.

Both of them were in a similar position. Raised in a community that didn't care about them, and even openly scorned them, they received no affection from anyone they knew...it was easy to see why the two would form such a deep bond..even if it did start rather badly. Aeron didn't doubt that if they were older they would even share the same room...or at least sneak into each others room occasionally.

Not that he had anything against it, sure he was a insane sociopath with barely suppressed bloodlust but he also valued personal freedom above all else, with whom people get intimate concerns only those involved...naturally if its consensual, and if not...well it was still not his problem.

Humans were especially problematic in that regard, the number of human half breeds was constantly increasing around the world...especially fire genasi, some people could definitely brag about having hot sex and such.

"So what now?" asked Frost.

"That's up to you" said the wizard "this is a night to have some fun so don't hold back."

The elven girl looked over the market square, there was a lot of merchant, a dancing bear and even a circus "Could we visit that?" she asked and pointed at the big tent.

"Of course" replied the shapeshifed Shade.

Even though she spend a lot of time around magic, she still was fascinated by the tricks that the entertainers provided. From the simplest of illusions to the flexibility of the acrobats.

After the show they made their way to the merchants, where all kinds of goods were displayed for the people to spend their coins on.

"How much are the peaches?" asked the necromancer.

"Fifteen silver with the basket, or you can have a mixed one like this here for fifty silver" answered the elderly woman pointing to a basket filed with a multitude of different fruits.

"Then I will take one mixed basket please" said Aeron as he payed the woman, Frost following close behind.

The two found a quiet place not that far away from the city, enough so that they could be away from the main crowd and could enjoy the gentle sound of the waves crashing on the rocky seashore.

Aeron placed the fruit basket between them and took one of the apples while Frost took a peach, never before having tried such a fruit.

"Mmmm sweet!" said the child happily, taking another bite from the treat.

Aeron smiled as the child ate the apple...most would think that a mass murderer like him would hate humans or something like that, that wasn't the case...he in fact loved when people were happy, when they smiled and laughed. But as a natural sociopath he was also fascinated with other feelings that people expressed...unlike a 'normal' person that loved life, peace and bliss he also loved death, suffering and other things that people described as bad.

From the farmer that would heroically sacrifice his life to give his family time to escape...to the noble who would rape a servant girl he obsessed over to the rogue who betrayed and was betrayed by people he trusted...all that was fascinating to him. As a person who couldn't bond with either people or objects emotionally he was always entertained when he saw things like that.

Why would a noble have such an urge to force himself on a person? Was there something special about her? Why would the farmer care about his family? He could easily save himself and have another one...or why would the rogue feel betrayed when others acted like he did?

When he faced a paladin, he was certain that his opponent was as determined to kill him as he was in burying the holy warrior...to savor the fight and victory. Sure they said it was for the greater good, but when they close his orphanages, kill his employs and leave the children on the streets to be picked up by the thieves guild or forced to become prostitutes he saw not a single though given to the future the children would have. Why didn't they took the brats in? Paladins didn't work, they simply received a cut from the cities taxes. They all had great mansions with servants, and used their power to uphold the social system that payed them...so why couldn't they take the children in?

But when they saw beggars, prostitutes and orphans on the streets of their towns, they simply blamed the misfortune of others on their bad karma and those that succeeded were simply rewarded by the gods for being virtues...why someone would go so far as to undermine someones honest effort in getting ahead or falling down because of bad luck or something beyond their control was truly puzzling to Aeron...most wealthy people, many of them paladins and such simply inherited their wealth.

"AERON!" came the shout, making his ear ring, pulling him away from his musing.

"Please, don't shout in my ear...it makes me dizzy!" whined the necromancer.

"You seemed out of it, you probably didn't hear a word I told you" grumbled the girl.

"Nope, didn't hear a word" smiled the shade.

Frost rolled her eyes "Figures...I asked if there are any books that would teach me how to utilize my power?"

Ahhh so its about the training... Aeron placed his chin in his palm "Yes I know a few...but there is a single matter we have to deal with before advancing any further" said the necromancer, but unlike his usual jolly self he was serious now.

Frost waited patiently for him to continue...and hoped he didn't get lost in thoughts again...for all his intellect the man was a ditz...or simply insane if his suggestion of dual wielding squirrels was as serious as he sounded when he proposed it.

"Ester, you don't want to walk the path of the sorcerer" was his blunt statement as he looked in her eyes.

"I-I, you, how-"

"How I know? Mind reading" he answered "I knew the minute you came with Hadrhune that you had no interest in becoming a mage, that is the main reason why you are advancing so much slower than Mist and Rain...it isn't your goal, it never was."

Frost quieted down for a moment "I-I don't wish to be a mage...but I like it in the woods...the four of us..."

Aeron smiled and rubbed her head "Don't worry, you are free to stay as long as you like."

She looked at him, through her tear filled eyes "Really?" she asked and received a nod from the necromancer.

She wiped her tears away and managed to smile back at the shade "..but what about father?"

Aeron had a devious smirk on his face "There are ways around that without breaking our word to Hadrhune. How would you like to be a Spellthief?"

XXXX

Sweat dropped from her forehead as she danced gracefully with her chain, striking the targets placed around herself.

Besides the chain, she also learned to use a small drow hand crossbow, poison bolts and all. Though she wasn't as good as the drow with the small range weapon. Rain was extremely smug about his marksmanship and skills with poisoned bolts...and even Mist admitted it, no matter how frustrating it was for her.

"Frost! Lunch is ready!"

"Coming!" she said as the sun warmed her face, only for a cool breeze to bring her the smell of freshly baked bread. Though she didn't need to drink or eat because of the magic ring but it was still pleasant to enjoy the small things in life.

She wrapped the chain around her before she made her way back home.

The small treehouse had the door and its one window wide opened, letting the warm air inside. She saw Aeron placing the pot of stew on the table, both Myst and Rain were absent like usual...those two even after years living here still avoided the sun as much as possible.

"I will get the plates, you make yourself comfortabl- " the necromancer said before he smelled the air "you, need a bath."

The shadovar placed two wooden plates in front of them and proceeded to cut a few slices of warm bread while she took some stew.

"Ah, what a beautiful day" the wizard commented.

"You think any day is beautiful irrelevant of the weather conditions" she responded.

Aeron didn't grace her with a reply beside a smile.

After they finished eating, the shade went to wash up the dishes while she took a bundle of spare clothing and went to wash up in the river. She didn't have any problems walking nude around the clearing, only she and Aeron were presently here after all, also elves had a different approach to clothing then humans had.

Anna for example was horribly uncomfortable being around others without clothes, like only a glimpse of skin could attract someone...to an elf it was bizarre, how can someone be attracted to a person he or she didn't know? The dhampir kept constantly blushing and glancing at Nalfein...at least at first before she got used to the fact that nobody cared about her nudity.

Frost assumed that it's a human thing, she didn't completely comprehend it. She stopped her musing when she approached the usual bathing spot.

As Aeron said, it was truly a beautiful day. The wind was gently swinging the tree branches while the sun rays glittered on the waters surface.

Placing the fresh cloths on the grass she jumped into the water. The elven girl reached behind the small waterfall and grabbed a bottle of the scentless shampoo. She learned fast from her mentor that you didn't need to see someone to beat him to a pulp.

After she cleaned up she relaxed in an alcove under the waterfall. It was not big, barely enough for her small body to fit through, but it was the only place where there was shade without leaving the river.

She closed her eyes and relaxed her muscles.

It was sometime later that she was woken up from her reverie by a loud growl.

"Are you sure Grayfang came here?" said a deep guttural voice.

"Grrrrr...yes" came an equally unpleasant response.

When Grayfang failed to appear during the pack gathering a few months before, one of the druids in service to the Beast Lord searched for answers, and the spirits of the forest brought them here.

"Wasn't here since we devoured that foolish Eldath druid" said a third voice.

"Let's go and see that tree house of his, perhaps there are some clues where that old fool disappeared too."

Frost managed to sneak a peek from behind the waterfall and to her horror a pack of werewolves was standing on the shore.

And they were going to her home...

She had to warn Aeron! But how, she couldn't outrun them and revealing herself will only get her killed. She also didn't bring any weapons and she wasted her few spells in the training session.

Having no better option she remained concealed in the water and watched as the lycantrops made their way to the treehouse.

When they left she dashed from her hiding spot and made haste to her home. She hoped he was alright.

Aeron is strong, no shaggy beast will defeat him she assured herself even as tears began to fall down her cheeks.

She manged to approach the small house undetected and peeked around it.

Aeron was standing with a bored expression in the clearing surrounded by the beasts.

One of the lycantrops growled "Look what we have here" he said happily "a snack."

The rest of the pack lolled out their tongues, flexing their clawed fingers.

The leader didn't even have to give a command as they jumped at their prey, ready to rip her flesh.

But to their surprise, the elf smiled and melted into her own shadow.

"Where did she go!" growled one of the werewolves.

"Be silent fool! She′s a Shade!" spat the leader.

"A Malarite with a brain! The world is full of miracles!" came a mocking voice from all around them, making the monsters look around themselves.

Before any single one of them could react a black shadovar blade, with an additional coating of silver emerged from a werewolf's shadow easily cutting through the legs at knee level.

The beast roared but as it fell backwards the sword straightened out allowing the werewolf to land on it.

The blade didn't encounter any resistance as it gently pierced into the werewolf's back and emerged through its chest. Normally only a silver weapon would pierce a werewolf's hide so easily, but the extreme sharpness of the shadowstuff blade and the temporary silver coating the necromancer applied on the weapon compensated for that.

Before it could die, it started to sink in its own shadow until only two severed, bloody legs showed that the beast ever existed.

The second werewolf died as the same sword cleaved its body in two, letting entrails spill on the grass, revealing a grinning figure behind the corpse.

"Come" the shade said "entertain me more" and with a waive of a hand darkness engulfed the light in the clearing.

When it dispersed it left a huge figure looming over them, its shadow hiding the wizard from the light, leaving only malevolent platinum eyes to shine from the shadowy figure.

"NECROMANCER!" jelled the werewolf leader as he dashed to the forest, his pack doing the same.

"Spoil sports" Aeron said as his form again melted into the shadow made by the summoned Nightwalker. Only to appear in front of the retreating lycantrops "tsk tsk tsk and we were just getting to the good part."

The werewolves didn't have a chance to reply, since the Nightwalker was already upon them. The undead giant easily grabbed a werewolf and crushed its body between its powerful clawed hands.

The rest prepared themselves to pounce on the elf when she raised her hand and all but the leader burst into flames, the Blackfire consuming their flesh and blood from within, leaving only ashes.

The leader of the pack watched helplessly as his followers died a very painful death before his very eyes. He then focused on the Shade in front of him.

"This is a good day to die" he growled and charged right at the insane wizard. But as he reached for the elf, the smaller humanoid ducked and with one fluid motion severed the lycantrops forearms with her blade.

Before the stunned creature could react Aeron decapitated him with one swift strike.

"Good doggy. Play dead."

Truthfully he had nothing against werewolves, he actually rather liked them...but unfortunately for them he liked killing more.

"Aeron!" came the worried cry from Frost as she rushed towards him.

"Everything's fine, don't worry" answered the Shade.

"Isn't this touching" came a annoyingly familiar voice "you are getting soft in your old days aren't you Aeron."

The necromancer almost rolled his eyes at the comment "Escanor, what a surprise...do you have any more work for me?"

The magical image of the Netherese prince nodded "That I do, two days ago Hadrhune was killed by a adventuring party after he took some trees from the Quess'Ar'Teranthvar grow, as it turns out the trees he took were in fact the Nether Scrolls that the pointy ears stole from us in the time of old Netheril...I want you to retrieve them as soon as possible."

"I think you were searching for a diviner if you need to locate them, I'm a bit rusty in finding lost objects" said the necromancer even as he shielded Frost from Escanor's sight...the other Shade would surely wonder why the girl was crying. But to think that the stolen scrolls were found...if they returned into Netherese hands Toril's fate was sealed. Unlike the first Netherese, the shadovar were evil and obtaining the scrolls would make the conquest of Toril that much easier.

"I know that!" hissed the enraged Shade "the scrolls were apparently destroyed by the adventurers, what I need you to do is to find them, reassemble them and bring them back!"

Aeron nodded, the scrolls were indestructible, even the gods would find it a challenge...no adventuring party could have pulled such an accomplishment...so the scroll still exist, but are probably unable to reform as usual...this will be tricky...

"I will begin immediately, what about Hadrhune?"

The prince scoffed "The traitor tried to teach the phearimm how to use shadow magic, if the adventurers didn't kill him we would have done so when we purged the filth."

Aeron nodded but was also far from convinced that the crafty diviner was killed permanently...death on Toril is rather cheap and can be easily avoided..at least permanent death. He himself had a Clone spell active in case of a unexpected demise, and many other spellcasters did the same.

"This is of utmost importance, everything else is secondary, is that clear? And change back to your normal form already, this charade has gone long enough!" were the Shade's last words as the magical image disappeared.

Aeron shook his head as he picked up the crying child and carried her home.

The girl was losing people she cared about too frequently in his opinion, if this trend continues he feared that her mind won't be able to shoulder the grief...elves were notorious for being able to die from sorrow...and Frost was only a child.

XXXX

Toril, northern Sword Coast - 4 years ago

Normally no sane person would wander outside when the Storm Lord unleashes his fury on the world...but alas, what is an elf supposed to do when pursued by Zhentarim.

Zanven coughed from the chill that was creeping into his very bones. His leather armor shielded him as good as it could but the heavy rainfall still managed to get him soaking wet.

Though he seemed to be in luck...even with the poor visibility his low-light vision allowed him to see a building down the road.

That will probably be the first place where the Zhentarim will look for me, but I have very little choice...if only the slavering misfits didn't relieve him of his money, weapon and cloak, he could then attempt seeking shelter in the wilds, but with nothing besides the cloths on his back he would probably get eaten by a bear or something.

When he finally arrived in front of the building the bard saw that it was a shady looking tavern...that increased the possibility of being found by Zhentilar troops, plus he didn't have a copper piece in his pocket.

Then again he wasn't so thrilled in getting pneumonia either...the tavern it is then.

He pushed open the door and entered into the poorly lit building. The whole place stank of smoke, unwashed humans and bad beer that seeped into the very wood of the poor excuse for a tavern.

Zanven grimaced but confidently walked to the counter, the bartender...and probably every other scumbag in this building keeping him in their sight.

He chose to take a seat beside a young elf and a child siting beside her, he assumed by the dagger on her belt that she wasn't defenseless if she felt comfortable siting in this dump with her back turned to the other shady patrons.

"Good evening" said the bard as he addressed the bartender "if I coul-"

Then the door opened again and a group of armed men entered, and more could be seen waiting on their horses "There he is! I told you that I saw him go in here!" shouted on of the soldiers, the tip of his sword pointed at the unfortunate elf.

By Corellon why me... "Now now gentlemen, I'm sure we can settle things peacefully, this is all a huge misunderstanding."

"The only misunderstanding is you thinking of talking yourself out of this one elf" growled what appeared to be the leader of the Zhents. "Truth be told, I never liked elven ears...all pointy...I think we should shorten them a bit" grinned the soldier.

"Excuse me? What is that I hear about elven ears?" said the elven woman siting beside him "That's rather rude you know."

"Nobody asked you anything she-elf, mind your own business" barked the man.

In a blink of an eye a chain coiled around the man's neck "Why are people always so uncouth" sighed the woman as she held the chain wrapped around her forearm "honestly."

"Kill her!" shouted the entangled Zhentarim, and his men eagerly complied.

Four of them rushed the elves attempting to cut them down quickly.

Thinking on his feet Zanven pulled one of the chairs beside him and slammed it at the first two swordsman. The duo tried to hack away at the improvised weapon but found the thick wood up to the task, their backswords failing to get through the piece of furniture.

The other two zhents attempted to kill the chainwielder but as soon as they were close to her she pointed her free hand at them "Color Spray!"

Instantly the two attackers were knocked unconscious.

At the same time one of the Zhents fighting Zanven tried to stab the bard through the chair. The longswords tip penetrated the wood and grazed the elf's cheek, not to keen on visiting the other world this soon in his life, he twisted the chair in his arms and disarmed the swordsman, his weapon remaining firmly stuck in the piece of hardy furniture.

"Whoever captures or kills the elves will get two hundred gold pieces!" hissed the still chained commander.

Zanven felt his elation falter when the other patrons started to stand up and grab their weapons. There was close to thirty people in this filthy place, there was no chance a unarmed bard and a novice spellcaster could win.

"Good idea" said the woman as she retracted her chain from the commanders neck to fend of the closest hostiles, the chain slamming the trio of brutes over their faces, sending them flying back. She then placed her hand on the child's shoulder "but futile Circle of Death!"

Instantly the mob that was cramped in the building had their lives extinguished by the necromancy spell.

The commander of the Zhentarim forces belched in shock as three dozen people fell dead in a blink of an eye, but at least now he was free from the accursed chain. He quickly opened the door and ran outside where the rest of his unit was.

He made two steps before he suddenly stopped.

All his men and their horse were on the ground...then a flash of lightning illuminated the area and he saw more than he bargained for.

Over them swarms of shadows feasted on the strength of his soldiers, with only one or two of them still able to breath...for now.

Then a shadow appeared beside him, he quickly slashed it with his sword but the weapon passed harmlessly through the incorporeal undead...then it starter to feed on him as well.

Seeing how his opponent was distracted Zanven quickly pulled out the sword that was stuck in the chair and easily disarmed the human "Do you yield?" asked the bard.

The man nodded furiously "I surrender!"

Then chuckles made the bard glance at the boy still siting on his chair, a big grin on his face.

"Aren't you a chivalrous on" said the child "I doubt he would have shown the same mercy."

Zanven frowned at the child's words "That doesn't mean I have to sink so low and murder a man who lost the will to fight" he said and turned to the elven woman "my thanks for your help, without your magic this day would have been my last" he then glanced through the door outside "though it still can."

"Oh, do not worry about the undead" said the woman and looked at the boy "you can send them away Aeron."

The boy shrugged and the shadows disappeared into the darkness until the time he called them again. That left only the dead Zhentarim behind but those corpses will also soon rise as new shadows under his control.

Zanven looked surprised by this revelation, he though the child harmless...then again having powerful people and creatures masquerade as harmless civilians was not really that rare...he only hoped they didn't prove as problematic as the Zhentarim were. "As I said, my thanks for your help, if there is anything I can do to return the debt please tell me. Ah, but where are my manners" said the elf and bowed slightly "my name is Zanven Silverleaf, a humble bard by trade at your service" as he introduced himself he still kept his sword in hand making sure that the Zhent didn't attempt anything.

"Well met Zanven, you can call me Frost" said the female elf "and this here is Aeron Blackheart."

Both the soldier and the bard stared wide eyed at the grinning child, the color from their faces paling a notch or two.

Oh by all the gods why me?! "THE Aeron Blackheart?" asked the bard tentatively.

The child disappeared from his seat, then an armored hand was placed on his and the zhents shoulder.

Looking behind themselves the duo started to sweat as they saw a large man with white hair and yellow, snake like eyes...on his black armor the symbol of Cyric, the God of Murder clear for anyone to see.

"A pleasure" said the necromancer in his usual good mood.

Crap...though the elven bard.