Act 1: Black

A gentle breeze bent long stalks of spring grass in the wind. The air was as fragrant as rich perfume. Sunlight filtered through the massive moss-draped trees and speckled the grass. Bees hummed gently and butterflies perched on flowers.

No one here really understood how good that they had it.

If I were a more bitter person, I would have resented them for it, but I was actually happy for them. I hoped they never experienced hardship. I hoped they never knew what it was like to be truly hungry or hurting. I hoped their lives were perfumed and soft as the grass. It was well and truly spring, and what I should do is head back to Bryn Shandor, but I was flat broke and it was an awfully long way. What a shame.

Truly, I could spend the rest of my days happily laying in the grass smelling the flowers in bloom, watching the clouds over a blue sky, the light of the sun or the glow of the moon. Maybe it was that the world looked better when you weren't viewing it with your head down.

The townsfolk didn't understand how good those things were, and I was glad of it. Sometimes, I still thought I was dreaming.

The old wooden fence creaked as someone leaned against it. "Valac? Why've you been laying there the past hour?" The guard was congenial. She was smiling when I looked at her. Terese Calvin's armor was perpetually shiny, almost to a point of obsession.

I stretched, then flopped back against the grass like a contented cat. "Haven't you tried sleeping in the sun, Terese?"

She shook her head. "Some of us have to work."

I sat up. "You've got to try it at some point. Everyone says you never take a personal day."

She laughed. "Funny you say that. I've got a job for you."

"No thanks," I said. I stretched again. "Think I'll go back to my nap."

"Oh, get up." Her tone turned sympathetic. "You need money, yeah?"

I made a face. I had been contemplating selling my horse. "Did you have something in mind?"

Terese pushed back from the fence. "C'mon. They gave me some leave and I think I've wrestled together a group to escort a wagon to the nearby town. Wouldn't go amiss if you'd join us."

"The guard gave you time off and you insist on finding a job?"

"Can't be idle." She stretched to her full height. Her half-elven blood made her lanky, over a handspan taller than myself. My own lack of height I could attribute to poor nutrition, but Thayan Rashemi are not very tall. "C'mon."

Terese had stuck her neck out for me when I showed up to the town half-starved and exhausted, desperately needing shelter just before the winter snows arrived in earnest. I couldn't say no to her. So against my misgivings, I rolled to my feet. My long tail swept side to side as I walked, keeping balance.

I hopped over the fence, nearly clipped my backswept horns on the low branches of one of the many trees. A few druids worked on maintaining the spongy moss and thick grasses that "paved" the roads. Wagons cut through it all the time, and horses needed to wear special "shoes" to keep them from tearing up the soft ground as they walked. Ivy and flowering moss grew so thick on the buildings that the forest nearly swallowed the entire little town.

Terese said, "Do you still spend all your time volunteering?"

"Yeah."

"Well, this is something that needs doing. But you can get paid for it."

I laughed. "I've already bought into your sales pitch. You don't need to keep at it."

She rolled her eyes—at me or herself, I couldn't guess. "Right. Well, they're just getting acquainted at the Red Boar Inn, then we've got to talk to Stewart."

I knew his name, but not his face. There was some business that should have made him in line to be Regent after his father or grandfather, but fate had not worked out that way. In my opinion, he still seemed to be doing quite well for himself. But I suppose if you were that type, it could grate on you that you weren't in the big house, where the lady ruled. I suppose it was frustrating, this being a mostly human and half-elven, some half-orc, type of town, for it to be ruled by an elf who would outlive them for many generations. Other people just saw it as stability.

As someone from Thay, I saw it differently; the opinions of the shorter lived generations might change, but the elf would not adjust as well with the times and would drag the rest back.

The Inn was a popular spot for meals, and there were a few people enjoying breakfast. Terese waved me over to a table near the bar with a few others at it. The barkeep grinned when he saw me. I had a simple and usual order. "Bacon and coffee, Valac?"

"Yes. Please."

I sat down while I waited. I knew the halfling wizard, Lola Emberdew, as the apprentice of the local wizard. She was merrily eating what I guaranteed was her second breakfast of the day. There were spring flowers in her hair, her hat pinned in place, giving the impression of an over-decorated tree. I liked Lola, because she was polite, never gawked, and treated me and everyone else just the same.

The other two were new in town. The young human had a fresh look to him that implied he'd been cloistered his whole life. Some kind of cleric, but I wasn't well-versed in holy symbols. He said, "Paton Leray-Simmons. I'm a scholar. I was planning on studying this area."

I tilted my head. "Learning anything? It's so beautiful."

He had, and he started to get out his book to show me, but the last one, another half-elf, cleared her throat. She looked "wilder" than Terese, erring far closer to the elven side than the human. "Fiend," she said.

I stilled, then recovered. I smiled gently, taking care not to show fangs. "I think I've more human blood than fiend, actually." I made a face. "I guess I don't really know—"

"You spew out of the Hells with the rest of your filth?"

Terese sighed. "Tieflings are practically native to Torrill, Ellie." She looked at me, pointing to her. "Elyvia Everlight, of the High Forest."

Elyvia's eyes narrowed. "I'll be watching you, fiend blood."

I rolled my eyes and went back to Paton. Elyvia's hostility didn't really bother me. I had been threatened by far worse than a fiend-hunting half-elf with a bow. Besides, I really wasn't a fiend the way she thought of it.

Paton was only just starting on his book, but he was a good sketch artist, and showed me his sketch of the gates, his notes about the lore he had collected about it. I smiled, "You should see the Flying Fish Bridge. It's a delight to lay on at night, watching them 'fly' over it."

He made a note to do exactly that, lamenting that it likely would not be tonight.

I ate quickly and the others finished their meals, chatting a bit to get to know one another. Paton was from Candlekeep and looking to create something to further the advancement of knowledge for the place. I was curious about it and Lola liked to listen to the legends and magic around Candlekeep. Elyvia glared at me much of the time. Terese made a good barrier between she and I.

Lola said, "Must not get many tieflings in the High Forest."

Elyvia smiled slyly. "The vile spawn of fiend and mortal know better than to show themselves to the Everlight clan. The taint of a tiefling just proves their ancestor's evil." She tossed her head back. "My family has fought the darkness in Hellgate for generations."

I sunk down in my seat, staring at my devil red hands. Terese said, "Hellgate is a funny name for something overrun with demons. Considering."

Elyvia rolled her eyes. "Demon. Devil. Their half-blood spawn and the cultists that serve them—they all have to be put down all the same."

Lola considered. "I've actually often wondered, since angels can fall, if a fiend can rise."

Elyvia snorted. "It would be idiotic to trust that they're sincere."

I wondered how badly this was going to go.

Stewart Rein had one of the larger houses, in the nicer district of town. A servant of some kind got the door and once Terese explained our business, we were welcomed inside. I tried to take social cues from the others, as far as wiping their feet or putting down their things. We were shown into a sitting room. The others found seats among the upholstered furniture. Looking at it, I felt a little lost. Surely this was too fine for someone like me to sit down? Taervelaine's place had been bad enough, but Stewart I didn't know.

My falling out with Reyne had soured even the sound of his name, and I was a little anxious about it.

I was saved from my predicament by Stewart's arrival, which was heralded by a large dog. I knelt down and reached out to him. The dog was friendly and after a cursory sniff, I made fast friends with him, half ignoring the more boring talk about the caravan, how long on the road, what to expect in Orlbar, that kind of thing.

Stewart said, "I like to know the people working for me. Terese, I know your family. You've been with the guard a few years, have you not?"

She affirmed this, and they chitchatted about her family. I listened, because I did want to know more about everyone too. Terese had been here all her life, and it looked like her family was well-thought of and established.

Stewart said, "And Miss Lola Amberdew. We hadn't much time to talk before. Still studying, I take it?"

She grinned. "'Course, Mr. Stewart Rein. Can't quite get me ole head out of a book. A spot of fresh air and a walk about should do me a right load of good."

He was most inquisitive about Elyvia, remarking that she looked "wild and free". He was curious about news of where she came from, what she was doing, but she was a bit evasive with the details.

Paton made little notes about all of us throughout, and Stewart remarked upon it, and they had a spirited conversation about Oghma, the pursuit of knowledge, and Candlekeep, where Paton was from.

I was quite content to be ignored while I played with the dog, but Stewart said, "And you're Valac."

I grinned as if I had been caught doing something I should not have. "Yes. I don't think there's much to say about me." But I felt him staring at my tattoos, at the collar on my neck.

"I prefer to know my employees." His tone was congenial, but I got the idea that he wouldn't welcome me aboard otherwise.

I hesitated, eyes straying to Elyvia, then back to Stewart. I said, "I'm… from Thay. The Land of Red Wizards. But I'm not a wizard." I started to explain that I was Rashemi, then realized that would require me to give an entire history of Thay. I quieted myself, tried to collect my thoughts.

In my silence, Stewart looked at my neck. "That's adamantine. An expensive metal, for a slave collar. So someone thought you were valuable?"

I fell silent, a little surprised that he would call me out so suddenly like that. Most people tiptoed around the subject. I looked down. "Yes." I couldn't bear to get into further detail, but he was looking at me, with the air of some highborn Mulani noble, watching me on the floor expecting me to obey and some part of me caved inward. I said quickly, "I suppose I do look unique, don't I." I flashed a smile, trying to keep it lighthearted.

The others looked at me with some kind of pity or sorrow, except Elyvia who still seemed suspicious of me. Honestly, I preferred her hostility to the others' pity.

Stewart said, "There's no shame in it. You're not the first escaped slave from somewhere to seek refuge in Loudwater."

I looked away, unsure of how to even respond to something like that. I just wanted to be treated like everyone else, but everyone always felt the need to point out the obvious, to tell me I was welcome and safe, when they didn't act like that to anyone else.

Thankfully, Lola changed the subject back to the task at hand. I was grateful for her understanding.

Once all the details were straightened out—pay, what we might expect, that kind of thing—we set out back to the Boar, where the wagon driver would be loading the wagon.

Terese absently smacked a fish "flying" over the bridge on our way across to keep it from colliding with her. She had been here all her life and the magic of the bridge was old hat to her.

Lola chatted amiably with Paton about his travels and studies. She dreamed of studying some of the books at Candlekeep. I asked Paton, "If you're writing a book about the area, you must like stories?"

He shook his head. "Not really." He glanced down at the water as we passed the bridge, then back at me. "It's more that I need to add something to the collection of knowledge, for my devotion to Oghma. So I thought the Frontier might be a good place to chronicle history."

Lola said, "You might like to meet Mister Curuvar. He's been schoolin' me in wizardry."

"Yes, I think that would be helpful," he agreed.

I couldn't understand that. Any god I had known hadn't listened to me. But I suppose they listened to a chosen few—like Paton.

I couldn't say if I were jealous or not. It was easier to declare that gods were useless than to bow and scrape to one.

My master had paid proper homage to many gods, as was the custom, but as far as his actual attendance—he attended some holy days at the temple of Kossuth, the most popular deity in Thay at present. It was part of why he favored me, and my resistance to fire—though a fire genasi might have been more on brand for that one.

My distaste, the priestess of Asmodeus had told me, was part of why I was miserable. You will do this, and gladly, or you will join the Wall of the Faithless when you die. You were made for Asmodeus. And as their followers call you fiendblood and foulblood, the brood of fiends, so their gods despise you as well.

So I said nothing when they talked about Oghma and their respective deities. Elyvia worshiped Sylvanus, Terese seemed to wish she more closely followed her elven heritage and chose to follow the elven pantheon. Lola was more interested in Mystra, which I suppose made sense.

"Do you think I might be able to study a bit under Curuvar?" Paton asked.

"Don't see why not."

Terese sighed wistfully. "The study of the arcane arts is a worthy pursuit."

"Do you wish to join us, Miss Terese?"

She shook her head. "No. I've no talent for it." By her expression, this seemed a sore spot. Maybe wishing you had the knack for magic was not only relative to Thay.

They were so caught up in their talk, thankfully no one noticed that I was quiet. As we arrived, I pushed ahead to merrily assist with anything that still needed loading with the wagon. It needed little further help, and then we were off.

It was a fine spring day and the road was clear. Patrols were regular for about a day of travel, and then we saw less, then not at all. About two days from Orlbar, the sky was grey and promised rain later in the evening, a hide-clad barbarian blocked our path.

"No supplies for Orlbar. Or the Zhentarim within." He spat.

I would have liked to have talked to him, to understand why he was so full of hate for the place, but Elyvia said, "They're just common bandits."

I said, "Wait!"

But she was stringing her bow.

I looked back at the man, saw the people on the side of the road amidst the trees. I said to him, "Why?"

Before he could give an answer, Elyvia notched an arrow and loosed. It grazed his neck, but not in a killing blow. Blood bloomed bright against his leathers.

I said, "Shit."

But it told me a bit about Elyvia.

The others jumped to defend the wagon as spears were hefted, javelins readied. Cursing, as the other scrambled around me, I strung my own bow. A javelin quivered in the ground a foot from me. My eyes widened. I stepped back, aimed.

It was all the madness of a brief melee, the others protecting the wagon or moving in to keep them occupied. The wagon charged forward. A tribesman flung himself to the side to keep from getting run down. Another tried to grab the horses, but missed as they went past. I didn't understand how the others could go for lethal blows. Even Lola used magic that could kill.

We didn't know anything about these people—maybe they had good reasons for what they were doing. Beyond that, they were people. The thought of killing someone made my skin crawl.

I aimed only for debilitating blows, an arrow through a hand that kept them from grabbing a weapon and that kind of thing. The leader who had spoken earlier had moved into the wood as we gained traction in the combat.

I took a breath and chased after him, moving quietly through the trees. Elyvia stalked after him too. I had to reach him before she did, or she would kill him.

I jumped up behind him, a knife pressed to his already bleeding neck. I said, "I don't want to hurt any of you. So please. Call it off and we'll talk."

He looked at me, at the knife, at those already dead. Elyvia had found us and, grinning, was walking toward us, an ax in one fist. I carefully stepped between them. Her grin turned to a glare.

The man said, "Yield."

I nodded and lowered the dagger.

Elyvia sneered. She raised the ax threateningly, but advanced no further. I said, "Who are you?"

"Uthgardt. Orlbar is a den of vipers. Better the shipment lost to us than to feed the viper's den," he said.

Her sword bloody, Terese stood on the side of the road, watching us. "What do you have against them?"

Elyvia sighed. "They're barbarians. These ones are just bandits trying to make their banditry sound noble."

Blood soaked his neck. He needed treatment. He held a hand to it, stifling the blood as best he could. "No aid should come to the Zhentarim."

"Why do you hate them?" Lola reiterated.

He peeled off a chunk of moss from the tree behind him and held it to the wound to staunch the flow. "They pillage the land like a blight, and you ask such fool questions." He snorted.

I moved away to try to help whatever wounded were left. An unconscious man was bleeding from some shallow cuts, the worst of them being a nasty strike on the head from the pommel of my dagger. I grimaced and worked to revive him with some cold water to the face, tried to do a patchwork job of sealing wounds with mud. I was a little frustrated that neither Paton nor Lola, by far the best educated, seemed inclined to help.

I listened to the others' questions, but mostly they were met with blind hatred and resentment on either side. We let the survivors go. They left their dead, but carried off the wounded. The leader gave me a nod. Elyvia just sneered and said, "I hope that scar is a lesson to you that we will kill you if we find you again."

He acted as if he had not even heard her, but I imagined that was bravado; we had nearly killed all of them.

I looked at Elyvia disapprovingly and said, "Are you like this to everyone?"

She looked at me with such palpable disdain that if I were not accustomed to similar looks from people, I might have balked. "They were just bandits. Or do you feel some affinity for them, foulblood?"

I grimaced. "They're people. How can you kill someone and feel nothing?" I shook my head, going back to the work of dragging the bodies to the side of the road. I closed their eyes out of respect. The others mostly did not bother, Elyvia because she thought they were scum anyway, and Terese because she was numb to the idea of slaying highway robbers. Lola went to catch up to the waiting wagon. Paton said a few words over the bodies and we walked back.

I was a bit despondent, trying to pull myself out of this emotional gutter I felt myself sinking into. Talking to Lola helped. She was ever-bubbly and pleasant in conversation as I asked about her life, where she was from, her training.

Maybe someone else would have held resentment for wizards, but I thought that was shortsighted. You had to judge each individual separately. It was too easy to judge a whole, the way Elyvia did, declaring anything associated to be worthy only of death.

Was Reyne right, when he said that I thought myself morally superior to everyone else, including the gods? I didn't think I was morally superior. I felt sorry for people who had such an easy time killing and hurting others, because they probably just didn't know any better. But I really didn't think myself superior.

Or did I just come off as if I did think like that?

#

A section of the wall around Orlbar was broken. There was a work party actively repairing it and I couldn't help but wonder.

Terese saw me looking and said, "They were attacked by giants recently."

A guard overheard us and said, "And the tribesmen. Nasty lot. If you see them, kill them."

Elyvia shot me an accusatory ocular volley. Under her scrutiny, I squirmed.

They waved us through the gates after a cursory inspection. The driver knew where to go and we walked with the wagon to the storehouse. Someone in a uniform came out. They must spend a fortune on black dye. All the guards here were Zhentarim. In fact, I saw their symbol on nearly everything, now that I was looking. Was this town run by them?

My thoughts strayed to Reyne. I was tempted to ask if any of them knew him, but I stopped myself. He wouldn't want to see me.

I wished I could apologize. I'd probably cock that up too.

I busied myself unloading the wagon, but they would only let their own into the warehouse, so it was just a matter of stacking it neatly outside it under their scrutiny. Not a particularly pleasant lot. Reyne hadn't been either.

The wagoneer was going over the manifest. The others were talking, looking around. I stretched and walked to the end of the storehouse, looking at the other side of the reconstruction. They didn't quite have whips out, but any work the serfs did was supervised.

Across the street, from an open pavilion, one of the serfs was complaining to someone in uniform about the recent increase in taxes.

"The additional revenue is to be put toward repairs on the wall and upgrades on our siege equipment and fortifications—I assure you, we were entirely transparent about this. I can't say that's 'exorbitant', given the situation we're in. Can you?"

I looked slowly toward the voice. Reyne didn't notice me yet, all his attention on the serf as he browbeat the poor man.

"The kids are hungry—"

"Then you shouldn't have had so damned many, should you?"

The vitriol in his voice held unwarranted judgment, coming from someone who would never have that problem.

Another protest. Reyne threatened him, then the man balked and skedaddled. Reyne shook his head, turned. We locked eyes, for half a moment, then he looked back, called to someone, and walked away.

I thought he must be walking away from me. He didn't want to see me. He didn't want to talk to me.

I didn't blame him.

Why had he come here, after all the work he had put in getting his foot in the door in Bryn Shandor? They gave him an office to work out of. He had been in talks about hiring mercenaries for additional security with the threat of the dragon and whatnot. What had he come across that was so important that he was here instead?

But I needed to respect his wishes. I wanted to apologize, but I had never done this before. What was the right etiquette to use? Should I write him a note? Laughable. I could barely write on my own, and not legibly at that.

What would I even say? I was sorry that what I said had hurt him. I was sorry I had come off condescending, but I believed what I had said when I had told him that the gods were at best useless.

I really should know better than to say those kinds of things to a paladin.

But if he didn't want to even acknowledge me, that was all there was to it.

I stepped back and went back to the wagon, subdued. They were ready to go. The others had little interest in exploring the town. I had even less.

I was glad to put it behind me, and a little glad that Reyne was somewhere safer than Ten Towns. Though given the wall, I wasn't sure that was true.

A dragon in Ten Towns. Giants and barbarians on the Frontier. His order must have considered Orlbar more important.

I looked back over my shoulder as we passed, up at the fort overlooking the town.

Terese said, "What is it, Valac?"

I blinked. "Hm? Nothing. Just wondering about the giant attack, I guess."

Terese said, "Yes. It happened a short while ago. They repelled it, but—Well, who knows." She shrugged.

"Do you think the giants will come back?"

"Likely, since all they did was fight them off. Not sure why they attacked it though."

I stewed in my thoughts. For the first day out, we found occasional patrols from Orlbar, all wearing uniforms a bit like Reyne's. All missed opportunities for me to get a message to him.

No, he didn't want to hear from me. Just because I wanted to talk to him didn't mean I had a right to. If he had wanted to see me, he would have approached me when we saw each other in Orlbar.

Goblins were picking over the bodies of the Uthgardt we had left. We drove off most of the pack. One Terese caught and we terrified it into explaining what it was doing so close to the road. It babbled about an ogre lord. I begged Terese to let the miserable thing go when it had told us what we needed—an explanation for why it was this close. Elyvia didn't trust it and thought we should torture it to "be sure it was telling the truth".

I blanched. "How can you say something like that?"

Elyvia snorted. "They're just goblins."

My lips parted. "Were you one of those kids that tortured ants and squirrels too?"

She looked at me, disgusted. "They'd do the same to you. They were trying to kill us."

She put ants and squirrels on a slightly higher pedestal than goblins. By the way she acted, higher than tieflings too.

Elyvia stayed behind to slit throats, which utterly repulsed me. I hoped that was all she was doing. I wasn't going to fight her on it, but how could I trust someone who thought so little of causing another creature pain or ending its life?

They had a language, coarse as it was. They could make simple things. They understood us when we spoke.

Terese looked on me with understanding. "It's hard when you aren't used to bloodshed."

Maybe less understanding than I'd hoped. My shoulders sagged. "That's not it."

Kindness costs so little. I didn't know why so few people had it.

Was Reyne right? Did I prop up my kindness, my compassion, and hold other people up to the standards I set for myself, and then I treated them with contempt when they didn't live up to it? I needed to treat them with understanding and compassion when they didn't. I needed to change my thinking.

I shouldn't compare them. I should try to understand, and meet them where they were. How could I show them kindness and compassion, if I only came across as smugly superior? Reyne was right to criticize me. It stung, but maybe it was an important lesson.

I needed to learn how to manage friendships and other relationships, before I got entangled emotionally. I needed to learn how to be a friend and a companion. Not for Reyne—for me.

It wasn't just a matter of apologizing to him. It was a matter of apologizing for my actions, learning from his criticisms, and improving who I was.

Terese, Paton, and Lola were a good place to start. Elyvia too, in her own way.