Branderscar Prison was a memory now, but they were still in chains.

Nobody breaks out monsters, just out of the goodness of their heart and if that smiling bitch was human, C'gorath was an octopus. He was a psionic after all and she offered a number of captives and slaves for his consumption as well. It wasn't hard to glean their collective, chattel minds for details and compare it to the sergeant at the prison.

Enthralled, one and all and the list of creatures the wizard knew that matched that particular skill set was slim and included his own people. But then when they were recovered and ready, they were met by the same face that had given Sharina the veil in the first place to escape.

She had called herself Tiadora, and when she smirked there was a faint, infernal glow in her eyes if you knew what to look for as she spoke. "Your patron will see you now."

C'gorath closed his book gently, bookmarking it for later and floated into the air as he followed. Answers were needed and answers he will get, one way or another. They were joined by the others in turn from the hulking Jorgen, to Fang; a rambunctious white dragon wyrmling who snarled and snapped at heels, claws clicking on the wooden floor and ruining the varnishing to a hooded woman with a blindfold, the quiet hiss of snakes emanating from her hood. Then there was Sharina, dressed for combat as suddenly, without a change of expression she mentally knocked on his mind.

"Are you as suspicious as I am, of this apparent good fortune?"

For a moment, C'gorath debated whether or not to answer before finally deciding it was the most logical step. If it came down to it, more allies would be better. It'd mean he could control the Medusa and from there, he'd be able to impose his will or at least have enough meat shields to retreat.

"I am. Our host commands a powerful devil as his second and considering the history of this land in regard to Tyr and Helm, I can only conclude this is a sect of Asmodeus worshippers."

"Damn. Actually damned. Can we overpower the devil and run?"

"... No. Look at her. Even with our natural gifts, she walks without a care in front. And devils are notorious for cheating."

"Much like mine. Except we're better at it."

C'gorath had he the capacity, and less control would have scoffed. Drow heirs... So confident and so amusing. He stared at the back of her head, contemplative before he finally spoke.

"Let's make a deal, shall we? Whatever will happen, we're likely going to be gang-pressed into something. And the deal is simply this... We look out for each other. I believe the surface term is 'I scratch your back, you scratch mine.'"

"How positively simian and fitting." Sharina thought back dryly before adding. "Very well Hannibal. Partners, looking out for each other."

The doors opened into a study, C'gorath briefly startled at how soon it happened as a single figure sat in an armchair by the fire. As he got up, C'gorath gleaned details, up and down as he kept his internal powers in check. This person was a handsome figure, clad in friar robes without any sort of holy symbol. His head was shaved, after the local traditions and there was a winning smile on his face as he spoke warmly.

"I believe you to be the first to ever escape from Branderscar Prison. Well done! Of course, you had help from the outside," he says with a wicked smile.

"But enough with the pleasantries. You must be curious why I've helped you. Rest assured this is no random act of altruism. I have brought you here for a reason. My name is Cardinal Adrastus Thorn. I am the last high priest of Asmodeus left on the island of Talingarde. Once the Prince of Nessus was rightly revered alongside the other great powers. Now, the king of Talingarde has become a puppet to Tyr fanatics who wish to destroy any religion that does not bow to their insipid god."

They were silent, listening carefully, including Fang who demonstrated unusual, if reptilian restraint as Thorn continued.

"For their blasphemy, I will see the same people who imprisoned and condemned you suffer. I understand what you went through for I have faced it myself." With that, he pulls down the sleeve of his robe and reveals his own runic 'F' brand. It's a mark all of them bore, pressed down to denote their accursed status on this island and further, physical evidence of their 'crimes.' Not a single one was unaffected, as the sound of knuckles cracking echoed as Jorgen clenched his fist. Thorn announced with relish, knowing the hatred in their eyes as it mirrored his own now.

"I am going to burn Talingarde to the ground and from the ashes I will build a new nation that knows its rightful master. I cannot do this alone. I seek servants worthy of our Infernal Father's majesty. Have I found them in you?"

He rises and his eyes flash with hellfire and divine purpose. "Join me! Serve me well in this holy endeavor and I will raise you up in the eyes of gods and men. I will make you princes and princesses of the new Talingarde. Today, swear fealty to me and to Asmodeus."

His eyes glittered in malice as he spoke.

"Put aside forgiveness and I shall give you vengeance. Put aside mercy and be made powerful. Put aside peace and become my harbingers of war. What say you? Will you swear your allegiance, or will you burn with the rest of the blind fools?"

I woke up.

I was not in that house. I was not there. Thorn, if he ever existed had been destroyed utterly, by my own hand no less. An act of vengeance and hate, from a heart that knew only those emotions as I breathed out. The sky outside was dark, stars already appearing as activity was heard and then I heard a voice speak kindly.

"Ah, you're finally awake."

I froze and slowly, turned my head. There, seated in a comfortable looking chair was Elminster, who smiled briefly though my eyes were focused on someone else.

Taiyang was sleeping fitfully, someone having pulled a blanket over his body and his expression was calmer, though I recognized his tension. Last I had seen it was years ago, when he was still hurting and my heart leaped to my throat as I struggled to get up only for the old wizard to stop me.

"Calm, child. He is fine... Everyone is fine and sends their love." I relaxed, if slightly as I breath out and take my place before I croaked. "Water, please."

Elminster nods, and he busies himself before helping me and I let him, my thoughts running before I finally croaked. "My city?"

"It runs still. Your council has been worried."

I turn to look at him, confused and he chuckles. "Whips behind, whips to the side and whips forward. When they are gone, what then is left?"

"You read Discworld?" I ask incredulous and he merely gives me a paternal smile and taps his red wizard robes.

"Where do you think he got some of his ideas?"

I blank for a moment and then he looks remorseful before he sighs out. "I owe you an apology child. So much of this could had been avoided, if I had been more proactive and trusting. But such is the burden of the old, who believe ourselves infallible to the traps of time."

"It's not your fault." I manage to say, hugging myself as I feel like I'm experiencing an out of body experience. My physical senses feel cut off, I'm numb and my eyes feel like someone dimmed the lights before I add. "You didn't make me go out there and... Do what I did."

I feel incredibly fine physically, and I know why. Bile threatens to surge and I swallow hard, as Elminster looks on with pity before he sighs out.

"No... But you might say all of this was my fault."

I froze at that, and turned to look at him, wordlessly asking for explanation as Elminster speaks.

"It was a whim, really. After the final battle of Taringarde, I was in the neighborhood. The Well of Worlds was threatening to rupture everything and I... Well, dealt with it. To my surprise, I found two people stuck there. One was a paladin of Redemption, afflicted with the curse of Vampirism. The other was you."

My eyes widened. Mostly because I knew for a fact, that didn't happen. C'gorath remained stuck in the well, unable to move or affect the material world. Nothing more than a ghost, a nebulous threat. A Schrödinger's BBEG, if ever I or our then GM decided to use him when running.

My group loved him as a villain and in the aftermath of our talks of how they affected the future, they all wanted him to come back. And with how it ended, it was very much a real idea.

This, however, was entirely new. Elminster continued, ignorant of my inner thoughts.

"You were barely there. A shadow, a mean spirit and I would have left you, but something stayed my hand. You were a brilliant wizard, a gifted one... And I wondered, what if I could change that? What if I could... Turn your gifts into another direction? Even as the lass did?"

I stiffened and he chuckled. "Sharina. I know all about her and your history."

He paused and added. "And I know what Thorn did to her."

Emotions not entirely mine surged and my eyes glowed violet, a pitcher flying off the table and slamming against the wall by his head.

Elminster didn't even flinch, staring at me as he continued. "That more than anything convinced me that I had a foundation to work with. And so, I went to work. I fixed you, and what I did in particular was restore what should had been there. Whatever good laid in your heart, I nurtured and I let it grow, before placing you on this plane."

Everything fell into place. But Elminster was wrong. There was no 'good' in C'gorath, not really. Not even Sharina drew that out, if anything it was a relationship of peers and friends. The only friend at that, which was why the Vampire Paladin afterwards and mine had been in the castle together, when everything went down.

Instead of nurturing the good in him, it drew out the closest thing Elminster could find... My own soul. Creator, originator and now... Him. I felt violated, sick to my stomach as I looked away and Elminster continued on.

"The Well of Worlds you have is not the original. It was a gift from me, a way to give you a method to wander for answers as well as allow me to keep an eye on you. And you surpassed all my expectations. And even forged new connections."

He seemed a frailer, older man now as he sighed and spoke. "And had I been less lax, I could have helped you sooner. I'm sorry."

I almost turned back, but restrained myself. I saw what happened when I used my Illithid self to cripple my emotions to think rationally, and in my current state I feared what would happen next. Would I strike down others? Coworkers, friends, family? More to the point... Was I sorry I was here at all?

I got up slowly and Elminster moved to help me as I swayed briefly. Someone had dressed me in a night shift, which I was grateful for before I finally spoke.

"Take me before Saint Cuthbert." He knew what I wanted, thankfully and we walked out into the chapel.

Immediately, I felt much more relieved.

My little resonance stones had been used in the construction here, demonstrated to the faith of Cuthbert beforehand. Feelings of love, bliss and other things I had accumulated long before felt like physical reminders, keepsakes of less troubled, better days as I sighed with relief. It was also cheaper than therapy and as I sat there, looking at the cross Elminster waited patiently. Finally, when I had collected myself, I spoke.

"I forgive you. C'gorath... Who he was before, was a monster. It might had been smarter to kill him for good then, but I rather enjoy living. I love my city, I love my new family and friends and I think I'd be sadder for it, if I had never knew them at all. On the other hand..."

I raised my hand, placed it over my heart as I spoke quietly. "I'm still him. It's just directed in other ways, but enough exists that I'm dangerous to people."

"Dangerous!' cried Elminster. 'And so am I, very dangerous: more dangerous than anything you will ever meet, unless you are brought alive before the seat of the Dark Lord. And Aragorn is dangerous, and Legolas is dangerous. You are beset with dangers, for you are dangerous yourself, in your own fashion."

I gave him a Look and asked dryly. "Really? Tell me you weren't... Were you?"

He only chuckled and shook his head. "No, never met the man. But it sounds like a good story, doesn't it?"

The old coot was charming. He reminded me a little of my grandfather, and I felt a little guilt over them gone. But even if I could go back, how could I do so as I am? Maybe there was even a me, still there and blissfully ignorant and the thought made me jealous, briefly before I sighed out.

Elminster was quiet now, before he finally spoke. "... No, you are not C'gorath. Not as he was, nor at his worst. Do you know what secret lets me know this?"

I stared and Elminster spoke solemnly, opening his mind deliberately as the truth resonated in his words.

"Monsters do not mourn their victims or their loss of control. They relish it."

"But I did." I said, as I added. "I was angry... Very angry. I wanted them to bleed, to hurt. I wanted them to suffer for what they did and what they planned to do. Even rendered as he was, that Elf didn't regret a single thing."

"And that is their failing, not yours." Elminster said sternly as he added. "There is too much to harp about 'what if' and not even magic can turn back time to that extent, not without dire consequences. The fact is that even angry, even hateful... When I asked you to stop, you did. When I asked you to transform back, you listened. Even then, you could be reached. And had I been watching you instead of patting myself on the back to your progress, I might had been able to intervene earlier."

He sighed out and spoke. "Remember this event, but do not be shackled by it. Easier said than done of course, but like all things worth building?"

"Esme!"

I turned immediately, my heart back in my throat.

Taiyang, pale and terrified looked at me and I all but leaped up, running to meet him as I slammed into his chest, grabbing him as I began to weep into his shirt.

Elminster, watching the pair sink to the floor as Taiyang began to cry in relief in turn, murmured to himself.

"There will always be a strong foundation for growth."

It was a quiet night in Vale.

Couples were moving about, families walking home, lights shining in buildings as workers did their tasks and life went on, as normal.

And then there was an explosion in the night.

The square exploded, rubble and smoke flying as people turned in shock, scrolls out as they began recording and police began being called.

And then there was a faint stirring. Red eyes glowed and flickered in the dark, terror gripping the people as an ungodly roar filled the air, followed by more. Panic grew and word began to spread.

Grimm had infiltrated the city!

And then the screams began.