A Knight's Tale
Aleina sat in a state of fragile calm. The spiced green wine had soothed the rawness in her throat from their recent run through the Underdark and loosened the tightness in her muscles. But a knot of tension remained, resisting being unraveled by even the potent strength of drow alcohol. That was probably because their host and savior, Amaraea, was a cursed elf-spider hybrid with blood-flecked lips, who exposed fangs when she smiled too broadly. And it was only slightly reassuring that she somehow knew Kuhl's father and also possessed a bard's beautiful singing voice. At the moment, however, the aasimar focused on the conversation between two of her Zhentarim companions more than their monstrous host.
"What happened after Urspreth?" Lenora asked. "And what did that demon mean about saving your soul?"
"Lenora…" Aligor said, voice conciliatory but a spark of irritation in his sky-blue eyes.
"No," the Chessentan crossbow woman interrupted, shaking her head. "No more excuses. No more delays. Tell us."
The former knight fell silent, and he seemed to consider the entirety of his potential audience. It included his fellow Zhentarim — Kelvane, Lenora, Saliyra, Gorath, Iandro, and Lhytris, the others he traveled with to the stone giant library of Gravenhollow — Kuhl, Jhelnae, Sky, Eldeth, Rhianne, Diarnghan, and Aleina herself, and also included their monstrous host, Amaraea. He glanced toward the cave's exit, perhaps thinking of escaping from the conversation that way, then gave a resigned sigh and shrugged.
"Very well," he said. "I will tell you."
Yet, even with his promise, it was a long moment before he spoke again. No one moved, even the ever-fidgety Sky, and all remained silent - each waiting for him to be ready to begin his tale. Amaraea's cerulean eyes turned predatory, and Aleina sensed their elf-spider host was all bard in that moment - a stalker of stories and song - and she anticipated hearing a tale worthy of her attention.
"I should share some family history first," Aligor finally said. "I am Tethyrian, but my family, on my father's side, comes from Elturel."
Aleina's eyebrows rose. Elturel lay close to her home, Baldur's Gate. The first leg of her flight from her impending wedding had been by boat up the Chionthar River to Elturel, the city of perpetual light. There, she gazed in wonder at its most famous feature - the Companion, a second, smaller sun that illuminated the city even after the celestial one set.
"According to family legend," the former knight continued, a faint smile forming on his lips, "My forebear, Randil Moonwhisper, was a Hellrider – a survivor of the army the angel Zariel led into the first layer of the Nine Hells. But then, every family from Elturel makes a similar claim about one of their ancestors, don't they?"
His smile faded and his expression grew grim.
"However, I have reason to believe it's true – that Randil really was a Hellrider."
The aasimar wondered if any of the others had even heard of the Hellriders. She only knew of them because Elturel was close to Baldur's Gate and home to the elite cavalry unit bearing that name and the two cities nearly came to blows regularly over trade disputes. Few Baldurians believed in the Hellriders supposed ride into Hell, dismissing it as a myth born of the zealous compunction for Elturelans to enhance their piety, then further inflated over the generations. Then again, the city did have a second sun hanging over it – so was it really so impossible?
"Apparently, a ride into Avernus wasn't enough excitement for Randil," Aligor continued, "Because during the Time of Troubles, he was part of the Company of the Red Falcon, led by Lady Kaitlin Tindall Bloodhawk - the avatar of the Red Knight."
That was a name out of the legendary past, but in this case no Baldurian doubted Lady Kaitlin Tindall Bloodhawk had actually been the avatar of the goddess of strategy. Kaitlin was one of their own, after all. Aleina smiled wryly. It was a given, she supposed, that a populace would dismiss the legends of a rival city as mere myths while embracing their own as unquestionable truths.
"As the histories tell it, Kaitlin Bloodhawk led the Company of the Red Falcon into Tethyr," the former knight said. "There they defeated a horde of monsters. Which is how Randil ended up in Tethyr and married into the nobility. Though he left the Company of the Red Falcon and stayed in Tethyr, our ties to the worship of the Red Knight remain strong. Every Moonwhisper son or daughter since Randil has graduated from her Citadel of Strategic Militancy."
"Please spare us the tracing of your lineage back to an illustrious forebear," Lenora snapped. "Only you nobles care about such things. We accept you are this Randil Moonwhisper's unblemished descendant, untainted by the blood of commoners. What does any of this have to do with what happened after Urspreth and the saving of your soul?"
The aasimar didn't miss the words emphasized or the look that passed between the crossbow woman and her fellow Chessentan, Saliyra as she spoke. They mockingly called Aleina noble daughter and now seemed irritated with Aligor recounting his family history. There was something to that.
"You asked him to tell it, Lenora," Kelvane interjected, holding up an admonishing hand. "So, let him tell it as he sees fit."
The Chessentan gave an exasperated sniff, shaking her head at the former squire, but gestured for Aligor to continue.
"My intent was not to trace my lineage back to an illustrious forebear," the former knight said, his tone mild. "But rather to emphasize he was a vagabond adventurer who married into his station. The irony of this will soon become clear."
At this, the eyes of Lenora, Saliyra, and Kelvane widened with understanding. Almost in unison, they gave subtle nods, each to themselves, and Aleina reflected they were Aligor's longest companions and knew him best.
"Some of the lands bequeathed to us by the crown lie within the Golden Marches, far out in the eastern borderlands," the former knight said. "In truth more gnolls, ogres, and trolls populate those places than people — and half the people there are bandits. Yet we Moonwhispers guard those holdings jealously even though nearly all the income they generate are devoured by the mercenary fees needed to protect them. Which, of course, is how the mercenary troupe Blighted Beauty's Brigade came into our employ. Lenora was a member, and so was Saliyra... as was Primwin. And... Aridayne was their leader."
A note of sadness crept into his voice at the mention of the fallen Primwin, but it was the name of his lost tiefling love – a name Aleina knew through gossip – which caused his handsome face to tighten with emotion and his gaze to go far away for an instant. He shook his head with regret and heaved a sigh.
"Most of you know the story," Aligor said after composing himself. "I hear the whispers, see the glances. But I'll give the short version for Amaraea. It's an all-too-familiar tale — forbidden love. A season of campaigning with Aridayne, and I was hopelessly smitten and wanted to marry her. So, here is the irony. We, the descendants of a vagabond adventurer who married into nobility, now would not suffer it happening again, particularly if the one to marry into our family had horns, alabaster skin, bewitching red eyes, and infernal blood running through her veins. I won't repeat all the unpleasant things my father said. The kindest of them was a reminder that other potential matches brought wealth and holdings, while this homeless mercenary came with neither. He threatened to disinherit me if I didn't give her up. I took him at his word and left to be with Aridayne."
Their elf-spider host had been listening intently but now stirred at her name.
"Such tales are enduring for a reason," she said. "They resonate."
Rhianne gave a cowled nod of agreement to Amaraea's words.
The former knight gave a resigned shrug of his armored shoulders.
"Kelvane, my squire, joined me in exile despite my protests," Aligor said, nodding toward the man in acknowledgment. "Even though I no longer offered a path to knighthood."
"Let's not make it sound too noble," Kelvane said with a self-effacing grin. "Sure, part of it was loyalty to you, but mostly it was Aridayne herself. She claimed she and her band would one day hold lands of their own, and the fire in her eyes when she said it made me believe her. I'm the fifth son of my father's last marriage. My choices were running back to my half-brothers to ask forgiveness for some rash words we parted with and begging for scraps off their tables or I could see where the brazen audacity of a tiefling might lead."
"By luck and pluck, she always said," Saliyra added, sadness tinging her accompanying smile. "She had a way of convincing anyone of believing what she believed. Such was her charisma."
"She was especially good at convincing men," Lenora put in with a roll of her dark eyes.
"Not just men," her friend countered. "Are we barmaids in Chessenta or mercenaries on one last mission? And we're about to make good on the dream we shared with her. If only she were here to realize it with us."
"We have to survive this trip through the Underdark first," the Chessentan crossbow woman sighed. "An orog arrow nearly stopped me from doing that. But you're right. Meeting Aridayne was life changing. Though sometimes… it wasn't easy always being in her shadow."
She seemed to regret having said the last part, eyes darting towards Aligor and mouth clamping shut, which caused Aleina to share a knowing glance with Jhelnae. They had long theorized the dark-haired young woman harbored hopeful romantic feelings towards the former knight. Feelings she hid well, but not perfectly.
"I'd liked to have met her," Gorath said. "Having heard so much about her."
The other two Zhentarim, their healer Iandro and the ever pale and pallid Lhytris, remained silent with regards to Aridayne, which Aleina took to mean they never met her either.
"She was…" Aligor said, hesitating as he seemingly searched for the proper words. "Uniquely special."
A pained look flashed over Lenora's features at the former knight's statement, but her expression softened quickly and she raised her goblet in a toast.
"To Aridayne," she said. "My friend. You were uniquely special, and I dearly miss you. I hope your restless soul has finally found peace."
Everyone drank. as she sipped at the spiced contents of her goblet Aleina noticed Aligor's face was troubled by the toast.
"Let's drink in memory of Primwin as well," Kuhl said, again raising his goblet. "Wherever he is, I hope it involves sailing."
Sky spoke up as everyone took solemn sips.
"And pillaging, plunder, rifling, and loot, drink up me 'earties, yo ho!"
She quaffed a drink of spiced green wine then thumped her goblet down on the table. Everyone stared.
"What?" Sky asked with a blink of her golden eyes and a lash of her tail. "I asked Primwin what a pirate's life was like, and he sang me a song that had those words."
"Sky…" Jhelnae sighed, shaking her head.
Lhytris did something peculiar even beyond his strange habit of whispering to himself and ignoring everyone else around him. He stopped fidgeting with what was in his palm, opening his hand to reveal a little carving of a ship, crafted from a cloudy glassy substance which glowed eerily in the fungal lamplight. Its owner stared intently at it, lips moving to form inaudible words, and the carving evaporated into wisps of mist. The pallid skinned man then looked up, a rare ghost of a smile on his lips.
"Primwin says he prefers the catgirl's toast to the half-elf's," he muttered to no one in particular, gaze focused on the empty air above him.
Awkward silence descended. Sky didn't even give a correcting cry of 'tabaxi' in protest of 'catgirl'. Aleina repressed a shudder as a shiver ran through the nape of her neck which had nothing to do with being cold. What caused the strange man to suddenly make a statement like that?
"I would love to hear your story sometime," Amarea said, eyeing Lhytris with interest. "But one tale at a time."
She gave Aligor a meaningful look, who nodded and focused on his former squire.
"You said your only options were to scurry back to your half-brothers or take your chances under a tiefling mercenary," the former knight said. "But you were offered a third option."
Kelvane's forehead furrowed in confusion then his eyebrows lifted with understanding.
"I never even considered that," he said, shaking his head. "Which is why I told you about it immediately."
"My father wanted him to spy on me," Aligor explained. "When that didn't work, he sent another. One of his men-at-arms – Martel Greyspur who oversaw my martial training as a boy. I knew he was a spy, but he was like a second father to me, and I let him stay. What did I care if my father kept tabs on me when we got a strong and reliable sword arm in return? What harm could that cause?"
Judging by the guilt etched into his features, the answer was clear – plenty.
"We sought our fortune in the Border Kingdoms," the former knight continued. "And there answered a mustering of arms in the town of Dunbridges to fend off an army of raiders from Thuntar. We joined with the three local adventuring parties to defend the town. I proposed a battle plan, a ruse, where we would engage the Thuntarrans in the field with a token force, feign route, and lead the enemy into an ambush. The other adventuring parties — the Merciless Manticore Slayers, the Company of the Bent Blades, and the Deadhelms — liked and approved it."
"Of course they liked and approved it," Saliyra scoffed, shaking her head in frustration. "The plan called for us to bear most of the risk while they laid in wait."
Aligor sighed and nodded.
"We met the Thuntarrans outside the thorp of Urspreth, where we staged our feigned retreat," he said. "That part went as planned. But then we were ambushed ourselves, cut off from our allies, and forced to fight our way free. It was a massacre. Aridayne was among the fallen."
The former knight fell silent, his haunted eyes likely reliving the moment he watched his beloved die.
"Aligor," Kelvane said gently, "We've been over this before. You can't blame yourself. It was bad luck. You rallied us. Without you, we'd all have died."
Aligor let out a bitter laugh.
"Rallied you?" he said with a mirthless laugh. "No. We survived because I was meant to live – just as Aridayne was meant to die."
Confused and uneasy glances passed between Lenora, Saliyra, and Kelvane.
"You wanted the truth," the former knight said, tone grave. "So believe me when I tell you we were allowed to break through those lines and rejoin our allies. Or rather I was."
"We were there, Aligor," the Chessentan crossbow woman countered, shaking her head. "It was a very near thing. The Slayers and the Deadhelms flooded millponds to cover our retreat while the Blades harried the enemy on horseback. We all barely made it back to Dunbridges to regroup."
"That all happened as you remember," the dusk-skinned, blue-eyed former knight said with a nod. "As best as I can figure, the deal Martel struck only guaranteed that I'd survive the initial ambush."
Lenora, Saliyra, and Kelvane exchanged another look, a long bewildered one.
"Deal?" the former squire finally asked, his voice confused. "By Martel?"
"Martel gave the Thuntarrans our battle plan," Aligor said, his voice hard. "That's how they ambushed us so perfectly. He also gave them a pouch of tourmaline gemstones. They were found on the Thuntarran leader's body – remember? Our family deals in tourmalines and later, I found a matching pouch among Martel's belongings in Dunbridges. I assume it was the second part of their payment – once Aridayne was killed and I survived."
"Aligor," Saliyra said softly, her tone laced with uncertainty. "That can't be right. Martel died defending Aridayne – fighting like a madman over her body. You can't think he betrayed us just because of some gemstones you found."
"He must have regretted his choices in the end," Aligor said. "Too late. A desperate, heroic last effort doesn't absolve him."
He paused, taking a steadying breath before letting it out in a heavy sigh
"Let me tell the rest," he said. "And everything will become clear. When we regrouped in Dunbridges, I still believed it was my plan that led to our forces' massacre and Aridayne's death. My faith in the Red Knight, the goddess of strategy, was shattered. I could not muster enough faith to heal any of you of your injuries, remember? So, before the next engagement, I sought solitude to pray. But only one prayer came to me – a prayer for revenge against Aridayne's killers. The feminine voice who answered those prayers was not the Red Knight. She recognized me as a scion of a Hell Rider and claimed to be Aridayne's patron. She offered me power to avenge her warlock's death. All I had to do was pledge my soul as collateral—a soul she promised to return once I had killed those responsible. I had planned on killing the Thuntarrans anyway, so I accepted. Pact made, this sword manifested."
He drew his black iron blade from its sheath and set it on the table with a dull thunk. The fiery infernal runes etched along its length glowed faintly, like embers smoldering in the dark, rather than blazing as they did in battle.
"That you made some sort of pact with an entity of the Hells for revenge," Kelvane said. "Was not hard to guess. All that we knew."
"Which is why I thought we never needed to discuss it," Aligor replied flatly.
"But the voice in your head did promise to return your soul after you avenged Aridayne's death," Lenora ventured. "And you did that. We defeated the Thuntarrans the next day. Does this patron expect you to hunt down each and every one that ran away from the battlefield?"
"I was confused as well," the former knight said. "We defeated the invading Thuntarrans. I had my revenge. Yet still the sword and the gifted powers remained. Hence, it stood to reason, my soul remained held as collateral. When I found the pouch of gemstones among Martel's things, however, insight struck. Perhaps my mysterious patron even spurred it along. The Thuntarrans weren't ultimately responsible for Aridayne's death. They had just been tools in a plan put in motion by my father soon after I left him. He'd planted Martel as his loyal man within our ranks with instructions to bring about Aridayne's death in such a way where I would assume my family blameless. I would return home, grief-stricken, and my father would have his son back – pliable to any marriage of his choosing."
The implications were clear, but it took some time before anyone around the table could put them into words.
"But that means... to free your soul, you would need to..." Lenora started, her voice trailing off.
"Kill my own father," the former knight finished, his voice hollow. "But that's not even the worst of it. You mentioned earlier hoping Aridayne's restless soul had found peace. The entity who granted me these powers claimed to be her patron before her death. Do you want to know what I plan to do with the coin promised for this final job? I plan to hire sages – learned in fiendish pacts – to find a way to free a soul from a devil."
Whew. This is all back story. And of an NPC no less. Always hard to figure out how to deliver it without it sounding like a data dump. To that end I went through a lot of trouble including deciding to use Morning Glory Blade and the poetry she forced upon the narrative as a result. I hope it was worth it, lol... I post this with some trepidation as one reader, CyrusJ on AO3 has extensive knowledge on Zariel. I'm not sure how the official lore on her works. Do people know she became a devil in Avernus? I think based on Descent into Avernus they don't?