„Halsin! I need your assistance." „Sure, how may I help you?" He asked. „I need to know where to find Bhaals temple and I want you to guide me in a meditation so I may find it. I know it is somewhere in my head!" Her voice quivered and trembled in desperation and fear for what else she might see in that head of hers, but right now it seemed like the fastest way to information. Orin might leave Laezel alive until Tsisk came to her, but she was also crazy enough to make her unpredictable. „Do you think you can find your peace of mind now? You will need to focus and stay focused throughout all of it or your mind might slip out of it…or even worse, you might lose control over yourself." Halsin warned her. „Then I will need Astarions help. Would you do that for me?" She pleaded with him. Astarion came to her side. „What do you need, my love?" „I need you to bind me up in case I forget myself, to stay close to me – but at a safe distance – and bite me. I always found that it soothed the urges…" The last part dwindled to a whisper in her throat, not willing to be heard. Tsisk feared how he would react to this revelation. Her confession that she had used him to keep herself in check. But he only chuckled and smirked. „I always thought there must be something to it. You were always so...eager. And cheap. You sold yourself cheap, there." Relieved, she relaxed her body that unwittingly had tensed up uncomfortably and muttered under her breath „And I do think I made the bargain of my life, there…". Would she have looked at Astarion, she would have seen him barely able to contain his surprise and happiness, followed by a sorrowful look. After she was thouroughly bound and Astarion had made sure that she was in the best condition to make that attempt, Halsin started by guiding her mind back to Baldurs Gate and into Bhaals sanctum. „Rest easy, now. Close your eyes and feel how you become one with your inner self and everything that is and was you." Tsisk felt the tug of a trance, felt herself falling into the depth of her mind and stopping just a hairs breadth before falling to sleep. Her mind now floated in the abyss between wake and dream, close to her unconscious thoughts, so much closer to everything she felt and wished and desired. Thoughts wafted around her like thick fog, almost palpable. Halsins voice reached out for her, but in this state it was merely a distant echo: „Your god calls for you. You killed as he bid you, but now you must turn in your tribute. Go where he calls you to." She let the urge take her, let it lavish in her helplessness and let it inflict its sickly elation on her. In her mind, she now came back to Bhaal, with blood and other fluids dripping from her, smeared all over her body in the ecstasy of the kill. She could feel her feet touch the ground. It was uneven, like cobblestones – a street, then. She walked into a house, could hear the floorboards creaking and how they reverberated with every step she took. Then, she could feel the rungs of a ladder at her feet, in her hands, going down. A latch was opened, the cold metal ring of it biting her hand. The stench of rotten egg and mold hit her nose so strong, that it almost made her wretch. For a split second, the sensation threatened to cast her back into her body, but she ignored its squirming and her heaving stomach. A calm voice stated „You are coming closer now. Prevail on your path and reach your destination." She descended another ladder into moist air until her boots hit stones. Some of them felt slippery on her way and the sound of drops falling on water accompanied her. Her way lead her through a labyrinth of pathways. She could feel a tingle of excitementt, but it was only the urge, hoping to find another victim. No one asked for the people that vanished here and it was not done for today. In her state of mind, time was not important, so she could not say how long it took until she reached a passage that felt different. The set stones gave way to a roughly hewn path and patches of dirt, the sounds of water died down and left only silence. She felt her hands holding on to a small object and set it against a wall. A chafing noice resounded into the empty room as the wall let her through. As she did so, the urge grew stronger. The stench of blood and death filled her nostrils, that flared wide in anticipation. The urge flicked out its tongue and tasted it as much as it smelled it. With glee and in expectation of Bhaals gratification it followed a sloped path, feeling watchful eyes on her back, knowing full well that none of them would dare to step in her way for fear of what she might do to them in return. She was the High Priestess, the Mistress of this temple and everyone here was frightened of her. She left the presences in her back and went deeper still. The ground grew more uneven, rubble was strewn here and there. And then, the urge reached the end of its way. Tsisk could feel a presence pressing into her head, trying to gauge her mind, but she held against it. Her own voice began speaking „I brought her back to you, so you might at last inherit what is rightfully yours." Panic erupted in her upon hearing those words and the presence now pressed in with more force, brutalizing her thoughts with pictures of violence so vile, that she could not believe they were her own memories. It came as an onslaught of images and feelings and robbed her of her sanity. At camp, Halsin and Astarion watched her body sitting still, with only the cracks and sputters of the nearby fire entertaining them. For Astarions taste they had to wait too long. He grew restless and started to pace, when Tsisk became rigid first, then started to shake violently. Her breaths came labored and she made anguished, whimpering noises. „What is happening? Get her back right now!" Astarion demanded. Calmly, Halsin stated „You are right." and he began telling her to turn back and walk away from it. Only her behaviour would not change. Her body had begun to yank at the ropes that bound it and reminded them more of a rabid animal than the friend they knew. „She does not hear me. You must try to get through to her. Use your voice to guide her, so she might use it as an anchor to come back to." Halsin instructed Astarion while watching out for Tsisks thrashing. The vampire sat down as close as he dared and quietly told her „I don't know if you can hear me, but you have to come back to me. Who else would be ready to share night and neck with me?" The wild jerking visibly let up and her face turned to him, with eyes closed and teeth bared in a silent growl. „That's right, now fight that bastard tooth and nail like you always do and come here." Her body relaxed, but she showed no signs of returning to consciousness. Astarion bent down to her ear and whispered into it: „You promised me you would help me, too. I am hell-bent to see how you do that." With a hoarse voice, she answered: „I did that, yes. Now cut me loose or I will puke all over your shoes." After she emptied her stomach and wished she could empty her head of what she had experienced today just as well, she told them „We need to go down into the sewers. Once I'm down there, I might be able to find my way. Who is to come with me and rescue L'aezel?" Before anyone else could say anything, Astarion was by her side, with a wide, toothy smile: „Well I would not want to miss you breaking free of that bastards grasp. One can only learn from such experiences." Jaheira came forward. „I still have an axe to grind with that one, so I will gladly accompany you." Halsin joined in by saying „Nature needs to see him being put in his place, and I want to be its witness." Even Shadowheart readied herself, though not looking enthusiastic about Lae'zels rescue. Wyll hugged Tsisks shoulder and simply told her „I know you can do it." Tsisk hoped she would not lead them to their doom. She was not certain at all that she could do it. But time was of the essence. And if that merely meant a trade-off between her and Lae'zel, she would gladly take it. Her usefulness had found an end, she felt. She was only sad for Astarion, who deserved someone to help him out of Cazadors clutches. Her memory had not given her the exact location of the entrance to the sewers, so they had to search for a bit until they found a manhole, opened as a way to repair part of it. The smell of it instantly brought the visions of her trance back to Tsisk. But as much as she wanted to forget them, right now she needed those memories. Whenever they came to a crossing, she would stop, close her eyes and let her old murderous self pick the path. Much as in the meditation, the anticipation grew and it made her stomach churn again. Only good that nothing was left, then. Soon, they reached the rough stones and dirt-patches. It was a hallway, carved into stone and hidden away in a far part of the sewers, behind an unassuming passage. Symbols of Bhaal adorned the walls. As he came closer, Astarion wrinkled his nose „They painted them in blood. Some new, some old." Tsisk found the wall she had felt, but did not know what thing to put into the recess she saw there. She took a step back to see if she could find the little thing somewhere around. Following an inkling, she also looked up. Two corpses were hung from the ceiling, with visible signs of torture on their bodies. One must have been a Bhaalist themselves, because a medaillon of Bhaal was caught on his neck, its chain correlating with a strangulation line. She looked back at the door. Jumping as high as she could, she caught the medaillon and tore it from its previous owner, who followed the source of the force to the ground. It swiped her shoulder and left blood and other fluids dripping down from her side. Disgust and nauseating exultation overcame her, but she brushed it aside. This was more important. The medaillon fit perfectly into the recess and the door slid back. Tsisk remembered the presences she had felt and warned the others: „There might be guards here. Or an ambush, even. I doubt they will accept me with open arms, now that Orin is their leader." Following a pathway, they came to an opening that widened into a huge cavern. The walls of it where covered in ancient ruins, hanging over a bottomless chasm that cut the cavern in half. Tsisk knew that somewhere here, Assassins would wait. It was all too inviting for an ambush. „I will go out and draw the attention of the people hidden here. This way you can hopefully discover their hiding spots. You might need to move fast." She said while readjusting her armor for maximum protection. Upon these words, Shadowheart came forward and layed a hand on her shoulder „May Sêlune protect our endeavor and your hide from their blades." A warm, radiant glow stretched out from the spot she had touched and engulfed Tsisk before it died down again, leaving her with a touch more confidence than before and a blessing of protection. She inclined her head to say „Thank you." and touched the warm spot Shadowhearts hand had left on her shoulder with her own. It felt good on her hands and in her head, that ran cold with fear. Then she strut out into the open to meet the cultists. „Assassins, Priests of Bhaal, I have come back to claim my rights in this temple." She shouted into the ruins while walking right into the middle of it. That way, all of them would be tempted to shoot at her while she had the maximum amount of range to all of them on her side. Rabid murderers were no good shots, she hoped. And indeed, on the far side, some cloaked strangers stepped into the light. She could see more shadows moving around, even a face here and there, too curious for their own good. And she figured that her friends could see them, too. One of the strangers started speaking: „You have come, but you are no longer his Chosen one, nor even the second in this temple. You will have to reclaim your right in the rite of Slaughter." From all sides, arrows came whirring, most flying past her, some striking her. But for the most part, they were fired from too far away to do much more than scratch her armor. A group of archers that was closer to her met an untimely demise when Karlach charged into their middle and started laying mayhem on them before they could even fire an arrow. Others wound up entangled in thornbushes, or bursting into flames. But there were always more of them. She did not know what was about to happen, but something told her that she should wait before entering the battle herself. On the opposite side of the cavern, two assassins appeared high up in the ruins, on their faces a look of pure ecstatic frenzy. One of them killed the other with a stab to their lungs, then cut out the heart with effective, but jerky motions and besmirched himself with the blood of his victim. As soon as he was done, he started a prayer to Bhaal. Tsisk knew that one in an instant. It was the ritual she was initiated with and it intended to kill its targets in the most painful way possible when it was finished. To her friends, she shouted „Kill him! Ignore the others!", and lent herself the strength and speed of the Sabercat. With a few strides she managed to cross the chasm via a half destroyed bridge, but Astarion and Wyll beat her to it. Both vanished at the mouth of the chasm and burst out right next to the Assassin from clouds of mist, ready to wreak havoc on him. Only their blows did nothing to him. He continued his prayer unbothered. Tsisk now came close enough to jump the rest of the distance and landed square on her victim. She tried to ravage him with her claws and teeth, but her blows, too, only seemed to slip from his blood-covered torso. With a roar of defiance, she pounced on him again, and whatever had protected him had now lost its effect. Her claws sunk in his flesh and tore at it. And with Astarions and Wylls help, the frenzied Assassin was short work. Once he was dead, the fighting ceased and a voice boomed „The rite of slaughter has passed! Welcome Bhaals worshipper!". The others retreated back into the hidden rooms and passages of the ruins and left only Tsisk and her companions standing. Though Tsisk had barely a scratch to tell of this fight, many of her companions were not as lucky. Gale and Jaheira had sustained injuries before the enemy turned to run and Karlach had mindlessly thrown her weapons after them which had promptly tumbled down the chasm. „We must press on. I doubt they will put up more fights. They always felt that a kill should be surprising and in one blow. But Orin will know very soon of our approach and I cannot let her prepare herself." Tsisk told them. Jaheira spit out „What cowards they are! All of them." The temple of Bhaal turned out to be an old underground dwelling of interconnected caverns covered in the ruins of a small city. These ruins lay now derelict and defiled by the usage of the assassins. Some of the old houses had been used as sleeping quarters, others as waste dumps, containing things stolen from murder victims. Jewelry, Toys, keepsakes of all forms and sizes and even the skeleton of a once beloved dog had found their way down here and were discarded as insignificant before the eyes of Bhaal. They followed a serpentine way down to the ground level of the cavern they were in and on her way down, Tsisk could almost hear a voice in her head. Unknowingly, subconsciously, she started to quietly repeat what it said: In the year of the turrets, a great host will come from the east like a plague of locusts. So sayeth the wise Alaundo. When shadows descend upon the lands, our divine lords will walk alongside us as equals. So sayeth the great Alaundo. The Wyrm shall wander the earth and such a pestilence will follow in his wake that all who know of his passing shall be struck down by the plague. So sayeth the wise Alaundo. When conflict sweeps across the Dales the great lizards of the north shall descend with fire and fury. So sayeth the great Alaundo. The Lord of Murder shall perish, but in his doom he shall spawn a score of mortal progeny. Chaos will be sewn from their passage. So sayeth the wise Alaundo. Only when they reached the ground and she said the last words, she looked up to the others and noticed them stare at her. Halsin came over and asked her „I can see this takes a great toll on you. Are you sure you are ready to defy him?" Tsisk answered in a flat voice „I am not. But He will claim more of me every day I put it off. My chances will never get better than now." In silence, they walked along a broad and imposing passage on polished ground to a great arch built out of the rock that formed the ground. Bhaals symbols where hewn into it retroactivly and someone had painted them with fresh blood lately. With disgust, Astarion said „Ugh, this place reminds me of Cazadors palace. It smells of decay and the decor is just as obtrusive." Past the arch, they entered Bhaals temple. Death was now all around them. Right and left of the path bodies were draped on Altar stones. Someone had cut them open artfully and displayed the organs alongside their respective corpses. Blood was collected in grooves and flowed into pools on the ground. More bodies, in differing states of decay lay abandoned in alcoves. The Urge found it a distasteful display, but yearned for a contribution. To keep her head clear, Tsisk had to close her eyes and let the footsteps of her companions be her guide. Assassins were scattered throughout the temple complex. All of them respectfully made way for her or scampered off when she came close. Some began whispering in hushed voices, wondering what her and Orin would do now. When they came to the innermost sanctum, Orin already waited for them. She stood on a platform that seemed to defy gravity. It was made of stone and held above an abyss by arches that were also its only access-points. On an Altar lay Lae'zels body. Hurriedly dragged there, Tsisk could see because her beauty-obsessed sister had not had the time to drape it for best effect yet. More Assassins stood in a circle around her. They were dressed up in impracticle but impressive robes with ornate daggers, made to tangle up in everything when one should be swift and forgettable. Tsisk hated it, hated what her sister in Bhaal had made out of her temple and her followers. But she was here to end it all and that thought illicited a smile when she finally stood before Orin. „I headed your call, little sister." She said to her, knowing the diminutive title and a calm disposition would make her mad. She wanted her mad so badly for being Bhaals willing emissary and taking Tsisks friend right from under her nose. „And you have come without paying Bhaals price, I see. He won't be happy about you." She practically purred while faking sadness. „His favourite daughter fallen out of his graces. Now I am his chosen first. But there is yet a way to redeem yourself, Sister. If you kill her in his name…" She motioned to Lae'zel „…you might be able to come back into his fold and be a happy little assassin under my guidance." Tsisk was relieved to hear that Lae'zel was not dead, but did her very best to not let Orin see that. Orin meanwhile adressed her companions „And I see you brought more sacrifices with you. Do they know how you killed so many? How you make them believe that you are trustworthy? An upright citizen with integrity? Their very best friend and ally? And then you commit the ultimate treason and kill them." Her words hit Tsisk deeply. Her memory did not tell her how she did it, but she knew the accusations to be true, felt their weight on her chest, making breathing trublesome. She dared not look over, especially not at Astarion, who must feel a special kind of way about them. Orin sauntered back over and and spoke directly to her: „You know I always envied you your skills to make them follow you so sheepishly into their deaths. But you have no finesse, no art to it." She twirled her very own dagger with inset stones that looked like blood encapsulated in it while saying that and glowered at Tsisk. „Bhaal always respected my capability to kill by the hundreds more than your art." Tsisk answered. That had stung. Tsisk could see Orins deathly white skin turn an ugly shade of grey and her face disturbed by a snarl. She screamed „I will kill your little pet right now and I shall skin you alive to make me a new garment from your scales!" „But he will not accept her as a sacrifice. You know she is too unimportant for that. Only my blood will satisfy him." Tsisk objected. Orin looked very pleased with that idea. „Yes. Let me sacrifice you. That will do nicely. Let us begin the rite of my ascension. - Clear the circle!" All Bhaalists stood upon the platform now evacuated it and formed a circle on the outer perimeter. Her companions got ushered back behind their line. Jaheira scowled at the Assassins while they searched for a spot with a good view. Astarion exclaimed „Go for her throath!" with a wicked smile. He had hope, then. It broke Tsisks heart. The cultists that stood in a circle now began a chant that made her skin crawl. A barrier formed around the platform, vile energy that threatened excrutiating pain to anyone touching it. „If you leave the platform before one of us is dead, your friends will be killed like little lambs." Orin giggled happily. She then placed herself in the middle of it all and invoked Bhaal with a voice oozing lust: „Come to me, Father. Set my flesh to your unholy purpose." She ran her hands over her body while her skin tore open, her bones cracked audibly, her limbs elongated, new arms grew and her face twisted itself into a hideous mess, gaping maw rimmed with teeth, horns to impale and eyes as dead as any corpses. While it looked incredibly painful, she seemed to enjoy the process with great pleasure. Tsisk knew that Bhaal gave her all joys ever imaginable while taking his most revered form for a Bhaalist: the Slayer. Every aspect of it deadly, a body made of muscle and sinew, a mind set on one goal only – to kill. Tsisk positioned herself before the spectacle in front of her could finish and dove behind the Altar to transform herself. She knew she did not have much time if she wanted to beat the slayer. As Orin finished her transformation, a wave of fear hit Tsisk. The Slayer evoked terror in everyone close to him and she was no exception. Hurriedly, she called upon the ferocious nature of the sabercat with its long tusks and vicious claws. She could already hear the slayer moving about. As it neared the massive stone-slab that was the altar, the fear inside her grew and wanted to overwhelm her. But years of patient waiting for just the right moment to pounce had her readied for this. When she knew the slayer was close by, she jumped it with a precise leap and clenched her jaw on its throat, piercing it with her long tusks. Panic hit her, she started to flail to get free and raked her own claws at the monster. But her teeth had already locked tight into the slayers flesh, as she had planned. The fear it induced on her only served to tighten her bite, as she knew her death was inevitable if she let up. The creature now in turn began to slash at the cat, beat it and tore at it with its four hands. Her position under its head made it impossible to use its teeth or horns on her. Both struggeled silently – the cat to hold on for dear life, the slayer trying to rid itself of the cat so it could breath, getting ever more sluggish from blood-loss and shortage of breath, while the skin of the cat hung shredded from its sides. Tsisk could feel the slayer get weaker and with it its aura of fear. She could think more clearly with every second. But she, too, had sustained too much damage to hold up her form. The slayer decided to try and slice her throat, which threw her back into her dragonborn body. But even now, she would not quit. She knew, if the slayer could draw only one breath she would lose that fight for good. So she held on with tightly clenched jaws and tried her best to keep at least two of the four arms of the beast in check while it clawed at her with the other two, slicing her up in the process. Not even her armor could hold up against it and soon was just as shredded as the cats skin before. Tsisk now bled freely from dozens of cuts. She had not much time left, but the slayer also grew dazed. As it dropped to its knees she became able to reach for a dagger in her boot without compromising her hold. As soon as it was in her hand, she slit the slayers throat, accelerating its demise. With its last power, it went for her softer parts and delivered a blow to her lower body that felt like fire burning through her intestines. But in her mouth, the flesh of the slayer melted, and its body followed, seemingly soaked up by the thirsty stone underneath. In the blink of an eye, nothing more was left of it than the blood-bath the two of them had arranged together in Bhaals Sanctum. That must please him very much, Tsisk thought. Then, her gaze dropped down to her belly and noticed something very wrong with it. It eluded her mind exactly why it was bad that it was torn open, her mind rather chose to stear her thoughts to the fact that everyone would be safe from the murderous lunatic that was her sister. Now only one monster was left. And it, too, would be gone very soon. defying Bhaal Mortally wounded and cut up, Tsisk sat in a rapidly growing puddle of her own blood. Her body was only upheld by her resting pose, her hands hanging at her sides, her head resting on her chest. No amount of will on her behalf could make her body move even an inch. From the corner of her eyes, she could see her companions pacing at the rituals barrier, Astarion even banging at it, clearly frustrated. But it didnt matter now. None of it would matter in a short while. And in that knowledge she could rest easy, knowing that today, Bhaal would loose two of his spawn and therefore another chance at manifesting in this world again. A movement caught her attention. The surface of the pool of blood rippled visibly, distorting the room and her features mirrored in it. Her distorted self started speaking to her. At first she could not make out what it said, but it soon became louder and dominated her head as only Bhaal ever did, taking everything that was herself and forced it into submission so his vision became the single one thing in her mind. „You are my chosen one." It wheezed like a breath pressed out through a broken windpipe, bubbling up like blood from the lungs. Or maybe it was her own breath that did this. She was unwilling and unable to think about it. „I expected the other one. But you live, and her blood is returned to me. You are my Chosen." Tsisk realised, now, that Bhaal did not care about any one being. His children where pawns to him, readied for the time they would bear his presence, made to be broken so their own consciousness would vanish when he inevitably took over what was left of them. This thought strengthened her resolve and she held on to it as much as she could, while he tried to whittle her down with every word. „I have a gift for you, Child. You will use it to lacerate this world." The familiar, overwhelming feeling of bloodlust, mixed with pure, carnal desire and a perverted delight surged in her mind, made her drunk as ever until she wanted to say yes, Yes and YES again. But instead, she took a deep, gurgling breath, remembering the joy her friendships had brought her, the peace she felt in Astarions presence. And although it all paled in comparison to the sheer power of Bhaals forced sensations, they felt hollow now, like a palace clad in marble, gold and gemstones, but without a single soul in it to enjoy its cold, lifeless beauty. And somehow, she found the willpower to utter a single word: „No." „You refuse me? Your life is mine. Accept your inheritance or I will reclaim it. My gift will save you and give you more Power than you ever wielded in your life before." It was imperative that she now reject him again, she knew. Otherwise he might choose to just take her body when her mind left it unguarded. So she took all the power she could muster and uttered her last word. The second „No" was barely audible and trailed off into silence. Tsisks breathing slowed down now, her life-force leaving her. Her eyes blurred and stared off into the distance because she could not focus them anymore. „You were made to Conquer. To Devour. You reject my blood, and so I will reclaim it. I will make another who is worthy." With these words Bhaal drew her blood out of her body. For a few agonizing seconds Tsisk could feel every cut, every wound she had received today open and pour out what little blood was left in her body. Even her pores tore open to release every last drop. When Bhaal had taken everything, his presence left the room. But so too had Tsisks, and her lifeless, bloodless body lay still on the cold floor of Bhaals temple. The ritual had ended and the ceremonial platform could be entered again. But no one dared to move. Not even the Bhaalists could comprehend what they had seen. The two champions had fought each other to the glory of Bhaal, but now no one remained. Bhaal had entered the temple for a brief moment of rejoice, then left, but without gain. How could someone – anyone - let alone one of his children come so close to ascension and then reject it? Gale and Halsin looked perplexed. They had felt the ripples of unnatural power washing over the room and their sensitive minds where overwhelmed with what they had felt. Astarion however rushed over to Tsisks body and kneeled at her side. He knew damn well that nothing of her was left and yet he hoped otherwise, feebly taking her hands. „I did not mean that literally…what a shame, that you had to be a hero. Did you really see no other way?" Soft footsteps fell at his side and a raspy voice as old as time said: „Thou hast defied Bhaal, thy liege and father, and in doing so hast earned a place amongst champions and heroes." When Astarion looked up to the source of the voice, he saw the withered undead from the temple at the ship wreck, in his timeworn robes and adorned with gilded ornaments. It looked down upon Tsisk and spoke in a sing-song „But, alas, thy courage was in opposition to the divine cosmology that bound thee to the Lord of Murder. Thou art now faithless – godless – and doomed to wander the Fugue Plane for eternity." As he spoke he went around them with measured strides, walking a perfect circle. „I will not permit that, though all the powers of life and death dictate that it should be so. I, too, still hold some power, and I invest a portion of it in thee, who hath challenged the gods and now liveth to tell of it." He came to stand still where her head rested on the stones, took a stirring of power from thin air and let it gently float down to her face, where it rested as a faint glow, giving her pale face the illusion of life. „Thy fight is not over, and it is thy fight, for one who can look upon Bhaal and oppose him can survive any crisis. So rise, Challenger of Gods, and prepare for battle once more. Death will not claim thee whilst I endure." As he ended his verses, the faint glow spread over Tsisks body. Her wounds closed up and the colour came back to her scales. Her glazed eyes started to shine once more. And with a violent convulsion, it jerked back into life. Astarion could hear her draw a breath, even her heart beating strong and he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her blink. Tsisk sat up and rubbed her skin, feeling uneasy. It tingled uncomfortably and for a moment she did not realise where she was. When she noticed the undead who had brought her back, she asked him, almost accusingly, „Why did you call me back? I do not deserve to see another day for all i have done." But as soon as she had said that, she looked upon her companions and she knew, there was a duty waiting for her, promises unfulfilled. „The sole way to atone for thine actions is to do better, in a new dawn. That dawn has come. Bhaal tried to extinguish thee, but his wrath is imprecise. He only succeeded in killing the part of thee he had formed himself. The urge that drove thee to terrible acts. The spark of brutality that made thee his. But there is a new part of you that hath grown during thy travels." When the withered said that, Tsisk felt it to be true. Never had she known friendship – or even love – before on a level so profound. It had carried her to Baldurs Gate and shielded her mind against Bhaals influence. And it had transformed her into a vision of herself that she had not dared dreaming until now. The undead nodded „That part, Bhaal could not extinguish. And so instead of destroying thee, he hath made thee anew. The heart of a saviour hath overshadowed the mind of a murderer. Thou hast vanquished thine urge. I will now go back to observing, for it is my task to do so. This intervention, the reclamation of thy soul, is beyond mine ordinary remit. But thou art extraordinary, and so are these times. Today you are born anew." With these words spoken, he turned and walked into the shadows, where he vanished as if he never was there. Astarion helped Tsisk back on her wobbly legs and said accusingly: „I don't know why he did what he did, I certainly won't complain. But don't you dare be so stupid again." Jaheira and Halsin came rushing onto the platform and stopped at their sides. „I felt your life leaving you, how are you standing again?" Halsin asked, incredulous. Astarion answered in a huff „Did you not see the corpse walking about in its tattered robes, waving his hands and talk like a bad theater actor?" „So that was the powersurge I felt. And was it really a speaking undead?" „Yes, that's what I said. Let's go get Laezel now, the Bhaalists are eyeing us funny and I'm of the distinct impression that we will have to carry two people out of here." Halsin went over to Laezel and checked her over quickly. „I think she has been poisoned to paralyze her. I will heal her back at camp." He shouldered her unresponsive body and all of them left the temple unchallenged. The horror of the cultists only grew, though, as they saw the dragonborn that should be rightfully dead and reclaimed by Bhaal walk among them unharmed. And so, they let them pass.