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[Shadowhawke]

Well, I don't know what happened to this, but it was lucky I had this saved on a Word document! I had started this on the other Forgotten Wars Projects Forum, but I can't seem to find my way back to it for some reason; the link isn't working. So I guess I might as well post here, and continue it! A few of you might recognize this.

Disclaimer: I think the rating should be about PG. No sexual scenes... really. And the language just goes as far as 'damn' and 'bastard'. I might change this, however, and this discalaimer shall be appropriately modified. There is some violence, however.

Hey. I like writing, and I saw this section and just couldn't resist.
This will not contain slash or anything, but it will contain romance if I can somehow weave it in!
Enjoy... when I've finished!!! Please post comments... I love them... even bad ones!!!

Edited by Shadowhawke, 16 May 2004 - 03:33 PM.

[Shadowhawke]

Cyreth

Prologue.

Shadows flickered, shadows intertwined, shadows lived.
She smiled. But it was a cold, grim smile. A smile that did not reach her eyes, and did not permeate the coldness of the room. Mist wreathed her cool skin, enveloping her. The gossamer clothes that whispered around her body provided barely any warmth at all. In the misty shadows, the coldness penetrating the warmest of hearts, she should have frozen already.
The glitter of her teeth flashed in the darkness.
Soon, everything would be hers.
Soon, the Bhaalspawn would meet her death.
And she would make sure? personally? that it was a horrific one.

Edited by Shadowhawke, 16 May 2004 - 03:36 PM.

[Shadowhawke]

Chapter 1

Dark, empty drops of rain beat down mercilessly on the muddy ground.
Cyreth turned away from the prison window and groaned. The raindrops reflected her own mood too well. Hot tears threatened to flood down her face as she thought of her comrades.
Was this gratitude or what? She thought bitterly. She had saved both Amn and Baldur's Gate from a war, saved everyone from Irenicus' would be reign of terror, and saved everyone from the horror of Melissan. And for what? So the authorities could ambush her like Irenicus once had for being a Bhaalspawn?
Couldn?t they just understand? She wasn?t a Bhaalspawn anymore. She wasn?t something to be feared. She was an ordinary...
Cyreth stopped her pointless pacing. She glanced bleakly once more out of the window. No. She was lying to herself. She would never be normal. She would never fit in. No matter how much she tried, she simply would never fit in.


She started as a ghostly illusion mirrored into existence in front of her, and then relaxed.
"Thanks for dropping in, Imoen," she smiled tiredly.

The apparition smiled. "We're only two cells away, Sis. What more could I do?"

Cyreth made a face. "You could have run away."

Imoen made a face back. "What did you expect? Did you really reckon I could do that? Did you want me to just leave you there??

"It would have been preferable to knowing you were in here with me," Cyreth grumbled.

"Stop it, Cyreth," Imoen commanded crisply, discarding her normal voice in favor of a stern one. "None of us would have left you, and you know it."

"Oh really? I've got a fairly loud scream. I reckon I would?ve been able to get you going? just to save your eardrums."

"Not a chance, sis. You?re scream was nowhere near as loud as mine when I found out..."

Cyreth slammed her fist against the wall, ignoring the heavy bruising that already swathed her hand.

"It was all my fault," she mourned bitterly. "I felt that there was something wrong, I should have stopped..."

"Be careful, you?re doing damage!"

"I'm quite aware of that..." Cyreth started heatedly.

"Here's something you're not aware of," Imoen started grimly, ignoring her sister's surprise at the uncharacteristic sudden change of subject. "The authorities weren't the ones who ambushed us and had us put in here."

Cyreth stared. "How do you know?"

"Because..."
The apparition flickered suddenly, and then faded out altogether.

"Imoen!" Cyreth yelled frantically. ?Imoen!?
But her sister's magical projection was gone.
And she heard the prison door's heavy lock turn rustily behind her.


Cyreth swung around as quickly as she was able to with her aching body, and her eyes widened in disbelief.
So that's why Imoen knew it wasn't the authorities, Cyreth's stunned mind comprehended.


The shining, burnished armor of the figure that plonked down a measly amount of food was the same as that of the previous days; the same Amnish armor. But the helmet was gone... and Cyreth saw an undead monster staring back at her with rotted eyes. An animalistic ferocity licked its face, tempered only by the cleric's power that was keeping it alive.
Cyreth's hand swung immediately to where her swords were...
Or had been...


The undead figure drunkenly leered at her, its minor intelligence sensing her desperation and frustration.
Cyreth glanced down at her belt and felt her stomach tighten in a mixture of fear and fury. They'd taken her harp...
It came closer and closer towards her, until its fetid breath blew directly on her face. Sensing triumph, the undead swung its arm down, gloating over the apparent helplessness of its victim...
The apparent helplessness...
Cyreth uncurled and sprang back just as sharp bone swung down on her, words weaving forth from her mind.

"Life that's been stolen from back before time,
Go back to death, dead creature, go back to black,
For the life you crave is the life you but mime,
And your torture is worse than that of the rack

Hell risen, powerless to the hatred within!
Go back! Go back! To your darkness return!
Resist a master that you have no love for in!
Go back to the ashes! Let your hollow shell burn!"

As she sung the last line, the undead reeled back, burst into flames. Panting, Cyreth stared at the still open door speculatively and cautiously. A rustle sounded behind her and she turned instinctively. There was nothing there.
When she turned back to face the door, a hollow laugh greeted her.
"Well done, Bhaalspawn!" an echoing voice chuckled. "Well done!"


Cyreth looked around sharply, startled at the emptiness.
What?!

The resonant voice laughed again. "What, can't see me?"

She repressed the retort that had leapt swiftly and instantaneously to her mind. "Who are you?"

"Who are you?" countered the voice.

"You seem to know very well who I am," Cyreth tried to keep her rising temper under check as her mind flashed images at her; images of the dark ambush... the screams...
"Except for one thing," Cyreth leant against the wall casually to hide her building tension. "I am no longer a Bhaalspawn. You seem slightly out of date..."

The hollow laugh echoed again.

Cyreth felt her famous rage slowly consume her. This was undoubtedly the person who?d masterminded this whole thing. Who?d dragged her through the torturous experience of reliving a hell she should have forgotten.
"Can you do nothing but laugh and taunt?" she grated from between clenched teeth.

The echoes of the laugh answered.

"Show yourself!" Cyreth cried stridently.

Both the laughs and the echoes cut out extraordinarily quickly, to leave a lingering silence that chilled Cyreth even more that the laughs had.

"You, perhaps, are the one who is out of date," hissed the voice sibilantly. "If you had not noticed, YOU are the one who is in the cell at the moment, and I am the one who has your life in my palm."

"Positions soon to be reversed if I have my way," Cyreth snarled.

"Temper, temper," chided the voice, seeming to have regained its own composure. "I would have thought a child of Bhaal would have more self control."

"I am NOT a child of Bhaal!" shouted Cyreth. "Haven't you gathered that yet?!"

"No longer, perhaps, do you have a piece of his soul within you," the voice whispered tauntingly. "But you came from him... you will always be a child of Bhaal... a child who brings death and destruction to all those she loves..."

With a heightened cry of helpless fury, Cyreth helplessly smashed a hand against the wall, ignoring the burning pain that resulted in her action.

"Stop... toying... with... me..." Cyreth hissed.

"Or what?" kidded the voice teasingly.

A sudden calm descended on Cyreth, and her blurring vision was replaced with absolute clarity. Her pulse slowed down to its normal pace as she took a deep breath. It was the calm that always came after an impetuous rage, although this time she had to admit it hadn't been too bad...

"What do you want from us?" she demanded evenly.
Another laugh echoed away, leaving her more chilled than before.
"Curse it," she muttered aloud as she kicked the wall again for no apparent reason other than to vent a fury already vented with her crushing slam against the wall. "What is with this person and laughing?"

She stared hopefully around the barren cell, looking for the flicker that would announce her sister's coming. But the air remained unruffled. The now dead creature that still lay sprawled before her caught her eye as she waited, and she wrinkled her nose in disgust at the rotten stink that assaulted her.
It was only then she realized the door was still open.
Slowly, hesitantly, she crept through the door, and emitted a muffled yelp as she saw the group of undead that had been waiting outside.
I should have known that my captor wouldn't have been so stupid, she thought grimly. Curse my impetuousness...
As the undead lumbered drunkenly forth, Cyreth smiled coldly. It seemed that her captor, however, did not know her as well as he or she thought they did...

Edited by Shadowhawke, 21 May 2004 - 03:31 PM.

[Shadowhawke]

Cyreth quickly ducked behind the wooden door and slammed it shut. As heavy poundings rattled the door, her fingers worked nimbly on the time-stop trap.
Still smiling coldly, she stood back and waited patiently, her hands at the ready in her preferred spellcasting stance.

Bony arms and dead flesh smashed through the thick wooden door finally, the frame of the door crashing down as its hinges were ripped from the wall.
As they shuffled through, time stopped.
Literally.
Humming gently under her breath, Cyreth cast her first spell in her arsenal. They can take away my swords and my harp, she thought grimly to herself, but they cannot take away my spells, innate abilities, and unaccompanied song; although my song with my harp IS stronger...
Lightning flashed from her fingertips to sizzle through her enemies with a deafening crack. In the precious seconds left, she managed to cast a cloudkill and a web, and then stood back to watch as time started again, and her enemies, caught within tangled sticky webs, returned finally to the death they had been denied.


Cyreth held her breath until the last rotted limb stopped convulsing, and then drew a rapid breath. The voice's words echoed in her mind. A child who brings death and destruction to all those she loves...
And all those she doesn't love as well, Cyreth looked sadly at the decaying corpses. Sure, they were already dead, but I killed... again and again... why must my life be so full of killing? The taking of life?
"Dammit," she muttered under her breath as the cloudkill finally dissipated and the webs vanished, "I need to concentrate on getting out of this place, not feeling sorry for myself..."
The door stood invitingly open, this time free of any undead. Summoning up a deep breath for reassurance, Cyreth stepped through the door. Assuming an air of defiant confidence, she tried to mask her trembling fear in a hope to decieve whoever... or whatever... she knew was watching her.


The hallway was empty, and Cyreth let out a huge breath of relief as quietly as she could. The classic jail scene stared her in the face as the cold stone and irons mocked her tauntingly, dragging memories of a dungeon she did not want to remember. Resolutely ignoring them, Cyreth crept past the torture implements to the closest door.
A small tendril of magic whipped out of her fingers to assault the lock.
They forgot to enchant the outside of the door to withstand Knock spells, she grinned as it creaked in response.
Hands at the ready, she kicked the door open.
A pale young elf whirled around, hands ready in her own spellcasting stance. As she saw who it was, she lowered them.

"Cyreth!" Aerie whispered exultantly. "I knew you'd get out of there!"

"Thanks for the trust," Cyreth grinned honestly. She beckoned towards the open door. "We've got to free the others."

"Of course, Imoen says we're all in the same row," Aerie practically ran out of the cell.

Noting Cyreth's look as she followed more carefully
behind, she smiled. "I couldn't wait to get out of there," she explained plaintively.

"Neither could I," laughed Cyreth.


Knock after Knock hit the locks of the three of the cells in the corridors, and one after another, their companions emerged.
Jaheira raked a hand through her brown hair and couldn't help smiling at the infectious exultance of the rest of them, although she tried to hide it.

"Cyreth!" she growled. "Let's stop this gallivanting and get out of here!"

She looked irritatedly at Imoen and Cyreth, who were caught in a rib-cracking hug. "Let's get out of here!" she repeated irascibly.

Cyreth's grin died on her face. "You're right," she agreed. "But who's in the last cell?" She pointed at the last closed cell of the doorway, the wooden face giving nothing away.

"You and your curiousity," Aerie laughed helplessly.
"We don't have time, child, to stop and help every prisoner in here," Jaheira reasoned. "This could be a prison..." she looked at the torture implements on the table, and made a face. "Alright, this IS a prison. So let's get out of here!!"

"But..." Cyreth's hands twitched compulsively.

"Cyreth," Jaheira interjected brusquely. "We need to get out of here before our captors..."
The roar of an animal clawed its way through the air.

"Dammit, Cyreth! Let's get out of here now!" Jaheira yelled as an army of trolls ambled towards them from a hidden doorway.

"Let us free the other in here!" Minsc cried. "Then Boo and I shall see to some serious butt-kicking of the butts of evil until the boot of justice wears out!!"
Jaheira's next biting comment was drowned out by both Cyreth's incantation and the trolls. The Knock spell, Cyreth's last, hit the last door, and the lock unbuckled.

She hissed in a mixture of disbelief, horror, and burning rage.

"Cyreth!" yelled Aerie. "Hurry!"

Cyreth was jolted out of her stunned state, and leapt forward. She cradled the emaciated unconscious youth in her arms and then ran out of the cell.
Jaheira's flashing eyes surveyed the veritable forest of trees that now networked the prison floor, all holding howling trolls in their grip. Another sharp upturn of her hand and a muttered word brought a shining flamesword into her hand, and she waded amongst the creaking trees that entrapped so many trolls, burning away their regenerative abilities with steely force.
Minsc was happily smashing away with a plank of wood he had somehow found, bringing a quick, strained smile to Cyreth's face as she surveyed the situation.


Even though Jaheira's forest successfully blocked most of the trolls from getting to them, there still were the ones that got across that didn't get blasted by Aerie's and Imoen's spells, or knocked down by Minsc's heavy handed blows.
It's a wonder Boo's squeaks aren't deafening them too, she grinned. But then as she made the quick calculation, her grin fell off her face. There were too many trolls. Just too damn many...

"Fall back!" Cyreth roared over the chaos, kicking in the door that blocked their path to the rest of the prison with savage precision. The companions poured through the irreparably broken doorway, Jaheira's trees stopping the trolls just enough for them to gain a headstart.


They skidded to a stop in a stone corridor... that matched about a million others they had desperately traversed just minutes before.

"Damn!" muttered Jaheira. "It's a maze!"

"Seems like our captors aren't going to let us escape easily," Aerie noted.

"All the better," Imoen's eyes gleamed.

"What was that supposed to mean?" demanded Cyreth as she readjusted the young man slumped in her arms.

"Who's he?" Imoen asked, finally seeing him.

"I have no idea but he's coming with us," Cyreth informed them fiercely. "Look at him! He's been badly tortured and starved for at least a few weeks!"

Jaheira looked critically at her, and then nodded. "It was a good deed, but he will encumber us."

"I'll carry him if you want," Minsc offered. "Boo will be sure to share some of his celery."

"He's unconscious, Minsc," Imoen reminded him.

"He'd encumber no-one," Aerie laughed shakily, looking at him. "He's so thin he looks weightless."

"He basically is," Cyreth muttered angrily.

"We have time to discuss him as soon as we get out of this hellhole," Jaheira cut them all off.

"Boo can lead us out!" exclaimed Minsc. "His sense of smell is wonderful!"

"Minsc, we don't have time for..." Jaheira began testily, but he had already produced the hamster.

"Which way should we go, Boo?"
After listening intently for a few seconds, he beamed. "Boo says this way!"

And before any of them could stop him, he was off, turning the twisting corner of the corridor.
"Gods preserve us," Cyreth took the time to mutter before she was off after him like the rest of them, the footsteps of the trolls echoing close behind.


Minsc led them on a wild run through the stone maze, the others behind him praying fervently he wouldn't run into a trap. Even though he stopped occasionally to consult Boo on which direction to go next, he still kept them panting.

"Cyreth!" Jaheira yelled. "Do you need a hand?"

"I'm fine," Cyreth lied as she felt the half-starvation and imprisonment of the last few days take its toll. She almost collapsed when Minsc finally skidded to a stop.

"Where are we?" demanded Cyreth as soon as she had stopped panting.

"Boo says he smells our items," Minsc shrugged, looking around avidly. "They are here somewhere."

Jaheira raised an eyebrow. "Why would our captor keep our items in a maze or even in the prison itself? They're all so valuable..."

"We're not in the maze anymore!" yelped Aerie happily as she realized the blank grey walls had widened out into a room.

"At least it's not a dead end..." Jaheira started, before she was startled by Imoen rushing past to give Minsc an ecstatic hug and Boo a pat.

"You did get us out of there!"

"Ah, Boo, you have shown us the right way again!" Minsc beamed.

"If our items are here, we'd best find them," interjected Jaheira. "We're sitting ducks here; defenceless."
With Imoen still rubbing Boo's belly to his delight, the others broke up to search the room.


They scavenged the admittedly luxurious room, searching drawers and chests. As they pulled on their armour and slid swords into sheaths, Cyreth was forced to lay the youth on the sea-blue carpet.
At last, Cyreth pulled out the last drawer, and sighed in relief as her gleaming harp returned to its rightful place on her belt.
As she turned to pick up the still unconscious man, she heard a low rumbling.

"Minsc," asked Imoen suspiciously. "Is that your stomach?"

Before Minsc could protest, Jaheira leapt forward and slammed the door of the room shut.

"Those cursed trolls have caught up with us!" she swore. "I knew we took too long in here!"

"Well," Cyreth smiled grimly. "We've got our weapons this time, but..."

"Aren't there still too many, though?" Aerie asked worriedly as the door started suffering brutal beatings.

"There is NO such thing as too many enemies to be kicked when Minsc has Gram the Sword of Grief in his hands agai..." started Minsc happily, before the door buckled in.


"EVIL MEET MY SWORD!! SWORD MEET EVIL!!!!!!!!!!"
Minsc charged ahead of them all before they could even move.

"Minsc!" yelled Aerie. "We haven't even decided if..."
But her shout was drowned out by the roar of the trolls as they flooded over Minsc.

Cyreth swore. "Did he remember to put on his ring?" she shouted.

"Why..?"

The roar of a fireball drowned everything out for ten seconds as it spun out of Cyreth's hands and into the chaos. Cyreth prayed that Minsc HAD remembered his ring...
From midst the trolls, she saw Gram still moving actively, and sighed in relief, before drawing the Celestial Fury and Angurdval from their sheaths and leaping into battle, going automatically into Offensive Spin.


The battle cries of the trolls soon turned into roars of pain as between Minsc and Cyreth, they were virtually decimated. Acid arrows and Melf's minute meteors flew everywhere, punctuated by the occasional fireball that Cyreth and Minsc quickly recovered from.
One good thing about being regenerative yourself when fighting regenerative creatures is that the terms are at least evened slightly, Cyreth thought to herself, Wong Fei's Ioun Stone flashing bright from the circlet on her forehead as she fought.
But the Stone and the Ring that Minsc wore did nothing against battle weariness. Although they were all giving it all they had, a veritable army of trolls was too much.
For the second time that day, they were forced to retreat.


Sheathing her swords in a swift, fluid motion, Cyreth scooped up the youth in her arms and ran towards the door that Jaheira had already smashed in with the Staff of the Woodlands.

"Minsc!"

Minsc didn't seem to hear them.

"MINSC! GET... OUT... OF... THERE!!!"

The ranger turned reluctantly and scathed his way through the pursuing trolls to join them. Then it was off on the run again, the trolls gradually falling behind.
Great, thought Cyreth. This is just great...


Irenicus' dungeon at least had some form of order to it, Cyreth muttered silently a few minutes later, when, out of breath, they were forced to stop again.

"Just as a question," she said tiredly. "Was anyone actually conscious when we were brought here? As in, does anyone know the way out?"

"It is kind of hard to stay conscious when you get knocked over the head about ten times," Imoen joked.

"Good point." Cyreth looked around. "So no one has any clue of getting out of here?"

"We should go upwards whenever we can," Jaheira put forth her opinon. "Dungeons are usually underground."

"Hang on a sec," Imoen interrupted her, looking around speculatively. "This place does look kinda familiar..."

"Does it?" Aerie looked around, and then her eyes widened. "You're right! It does!"

"When have we ever been in a dungeon besides Irenicus'?"

"When we rescued Jan after accidentally imprisoning him," Imoen offered promptly.

"Do you mean to say we're in the Council prison in the Government District?" demanded Cyreth.

"Well, we're somewhere that looks a whole like it, if we're not."

Cyreth closed her eyes for a brief moment.
Not again, she thought brokenly. Not because I'm a Bhaalspawn...

"Well, we know the general layout. Let's get out of here," Jaheira commanded crisply.

"If this is a government place, how come the soldiers were undead?" Cyreth ignored her.

"Undead guards visit you, too?" Imoen inquired.
The others looked blankly at them.

"No undead visited me or they would have felt the boot of justice up their backsides!"

"Me neither," Aerie looked inquiringly at the two of them again.

"Nor I."

Cyreth's heart sunk further.
"Well, let's just try get out of here first," she sighed, leading them out of the next door.

Edited by Shadowhawke, 21 May 2004 - 03:33 PM.

[Shadowhawke]

Chapter 2


Cyreth heard Aerie's scream and the death whine of the arrow before it hit her. The world flashed red for a second, and she heard her own scream mingling with Aerie's as she threw herself out of the death trap. Another arrow narrowly missed the youth as she stumbled backwards.

"Skeleton archers," she hissed through clenched teeth as she ripped the arrow out of her shoulder.

"Careful!" cried Aerie as she moved forwards ."You're making it worse!"

"Yeah, well, that's my problem, isn't it?" growled Cyreth as she staggered towards another door. "My memory's hazy; how do we get out?"

"We're not going anywhere until we get you healed," Jaheira snapped.

"And get skewered by the archers when they find their way out of the door," Cyreth argued.
The soft blue glow of Jaheira's healing magic soothed her just for a while to restore her senses.

"I'm sorry for yelling," she muttered.

"The skeletons are coming!" Imoen warned them.

"So they finally got their brain-dead bones around the fact that there's a door?"

"No bunch of bones is a match for the mighty powers of justice! Minsc and Boo and Cyreth will set them right!"

"We're not fighting them; we're gonna get out of here!" Imoen ran towards another door, her agile memory serving her well.

When the skeleton archers finally rounded the door, they were confronted with an empty room.


Imoen led them through a network of rooms and corridors, gradually going upwards until Cyreth stopped her.

"Hang on a sec, I think that we were already on ground level when we were in those stinking cells."

"Why?"

"Because I had a window and I saw it raining outside."

"It was a simple illusion," Aerie assured her. "I noticed that every time I looked out my window, it was exactly the same."

"Why would they bother?"

"Probably to disorient us," Imoen shrugged, and led them through another door. They ran for another few minutes, before Cyreth stopped abruptly again.

"If we're in a prison, how come there was blue carpet in that room, and how come it was so luxurious?"

"We were probably in the jailer's room," Jaheira sighed exasperatedly. "Let's figure this all out as soon as we get out of here!"

"We need to get out of here before the jailers find out we're gone," agreed Imoen.

"They probably already know," Cyreth muttered under her breath.


The huge, iron door gloated as they stopped.

"It's the way out," Imoen exclaimed gleefully.

Minsc grinned. "It will be good to feel the forest wind again; Boo has no love for prisons!"

"Neither do I," Aerie shuddered. "It reminds me of when my..."
She let it trail off, her eyes filling with tears again.
Cyreth moved over and gave her a one armed hug. Aerie smiled gratefully, and then registered on their present situation.

"I've got one knock spell left." She hesitated. "But I think it's probably enchanted against it."

"Allow me," Imoen grinned, and withdrew a Potion of Master Thievery and a Lockpick from her backpack.
A few clicks later, and the wind welcomed them to the world of the living once more.


They left the Necropolis far behind them as they traveled, their hearts buoyant with joy at their escape.
Practical Jaheira was the one who spoke up first.

"We're gotten a fair headstart on our pursuers for the time being. We don't know where we are, so we'll have to head for the closest town. That means we'll have to get out of here and onto the road."

"The question is, where IS the road?"

"Probably on the other side of the forest," admitted Jaheira.

"Let's get going then!" Imoen exclaimed exuberantly, dashing off in front of them.

Minsc stopped. "Cyreth, Boo says you are tiring. Do you want me to carry..?"

"I'll do fine until we get to an inn," Cyreth assured him tiredly.


The roadside inn they stopped at was less than adequate, but it was enough for Cyreth.
After the innkeeper had left to find them a room, Cyreth turned incredulously to Jaheira.

"Why did you ask for the best rooms?" Cyreth demanded.

"Look at this place, Cyreth," Jaheira gestured brusquely at the dining room, many of the occupants already leering at the four women. "The best rooms will probably be comparative to the WORST room in the Copper Coronet!"

"Come on, it can't be that bad," Imoen shuddered. "Otherwise it would be REALLY bad!"

"The clientele of the Copper Coronet are worse," Aerie noted distastefully. "At least none of them have made..."

"Hey gorgeous!" smirked a too drunk man as he ambled up to them, another leering friend following close behind. Racous laughs drifted from the table they had just left. One of them put two arms casually around Jaheira and Aerie, while the other draped his own arms around Cyreth and Imoen.

"Do you want to go up to the rooms and have a tumble?" sneered one of them.

Aerie wrinkled her nose at the smell of stale beer.
Sorry, whoever you are, Cyreth thought apologetically as she dropped the unconscious prisoner in her arms.
She swung around to hit the drunk in his solar plexus, when she suddenly saw a well concealed blade flash in his hand.

"Well girl, tell the innkeeper that we need two rooms," the man whispered softly, pressing the blade against her throat.


Thoughts raced through Cyreth?s mind as she felt the knife against her throat. No common scoundrel would go to such extents to get a girl into bed? would they?
Minsc stood behind them, slightly stunned, and then leapt into action with a roar. ?No one lays a hand on Cyreth, Imoen, Aerie, and Jaheira without their say so! Right Boo?!?

?Minsc!? Aerie tried to yell. ?Don?t!?

But the split second of distraction was all Cyreth needed. As the men turned to gape at the huge ranger hulking behind them, Cyreth wrenched the arm around her throat away from her. With an expert?s twist, the knife went clattering to the floor.
The last the man saw was a fist straight into his face.

Cyreth stood panting exultantly.

?No one lays a hand on my sister!? she declared adamantly, grinning at Imoen.

Imoen returned a grateful, if slightly annoyed grin back at her. ?I can take care of myself, sis. It?s not as if I?m completely defenseless, you know??

?Well, no one lays a hand on me either without my say so,? smirked Cyreth.

Aerie had already pushed free of the man when he had turned, and Jaheira had seized the opportunity to utilize her staff.
Both men lay on the floor.

?Thanks Minsc,? Aerie laughed.

Cyreth?s eyes suddenly turned deadly serious as the cacophony of laughter surrounding them grew even louder.
?Before more so called ?drunks? start coming up, let?s get to our rooms,? she muttered as the innkeeper returned.

?Minsc, can you carry these two up??

?Why?? Minsc looked nonplussed.

?No drunk goes to such extent to get a girl into bed. They weren?t drunks at all.?

Minsc, still looking slightly clueless, picked up the two men. The rest of them followed the innkeeper, Cyreth stopping to pick up the prisoner.
It?s a wonder he?s still unconscious, she thought. I mean, how bad can it be?
She answered her own question. He looked extraordinarily bad.


The rooms that the innkeeper led them to surpassed even Jaheira?s low expectations. As he bowed out with an oily grin, Minsc dumped the two men onto the floor.

?They?ll wake up soon,? Aerie looked them over. ?And you?re right. They don?t look like they?re drunk at all.?

?I thought not,? Cyreth gently laid the prisoner onto one of the soft beds. She gently tucked the sheets around his emaciated body, wincing as she saw how thin he was.
He must have been in that hellhole for weeks? perhaps even months!
She turned and saw Jaheira slip one of her hands into one of the men?s pockets. She withdrew a small note, and opened it.

?What does it say?? mandated Cyreth.

Wordlessly, Jaheira handed it over to her. She looked at it, her eyes tightening as she read. Then she sat on one of the chairs like the others, waiting for the two men to awake.


They didn?t have to wait long. The one Jaheira had hit awakened first with a groan. The one who had been on the receiving end of Cyreth?s fist woke up a few seconds later.
Blearily, they gradually focused on the five people surrounding them. Minsc stood right in front of them, leaning negligently on Gram. The mere sight of the huge broadsword made them back slightly away from him. One of them flashed a hand to a concealed dagger, but Cyreth stepped forward with Angurdval before he could reach it.

She held the flaming blade out threateningly. ?Who are you??

?Is liking pretty girls a sin or something?? demanded the other one angrily.

?It is if you get them into bed with a knife,? Imoen snorted.

?We haven?t done anything wrong,? blustered the one with Angurdval dangerously near his throat.

?What are your names?? questioned Jaheira.

?Kiljan and Haren.?

?No, we meant your real names,? Cyreth disagreed pleasantly. They glared at her.

?Iraend and Jalik,? one spat out bitterly.

?Well, Iraend and Jalik, where did you get this from??
Cyreth shook the note in front of their startled faces. Jalik?s hand flew to his pocket, and then stared at the note again as he discovered it empty.

Iraend, Jalik. This is probably your biggest assignment ever, and I do not advise you to fail. Find the godchild and her party and capture them. When they have been rendered unconscious, you will receive further orders.

?They sent these two to take us out?? demanded Imoen incredulously.

?Well, at least we know whoever?s tracking us is mad,? shrugged Cyreth, slipping the note into her pocket.

?Well, you heard Cyreth!? boomed Minsc. ?Where did you get the note??

They stayed sullenly silent.

?Where did you get the note?! Tell us or the boot of justice will be rammed permanently up your backsides!?
Minsc lifted Gram above his head when they still didn?t answer, and was about to bring it down when Iraend broke.

?Okay! Okay! We got it from the thief quarters yesterday,? he half blubbered. ?We all have message boxes we check, and our assignments are put in them. We honestly don?t know who we got this from! Please! Pl-please put? th-that?sw-sword aw-way!?

Minsc turned to Boo, who was sitting on his shoulder, and listened carefully. Then with a sigh, he dropped the broadsword and leant on it again.
?It is well for you that Boo says you tell the truth,? he grumbled.

Jalik whacked Iraend over the head. ?You?ve broken the code!? he snarled.

?Well, we?re going to die anyway!? blurted Iraend fearfully.

?If you tell us where the thief quarters are, we might just release you,? Cyreth shrugged.

?But then? if you don?t? I?m sure Minsc will be happy to oblige??

?Stop that!? wailed Iraend.

Even Jalik?s eyes bulged with fear as he saw Minsc lift his sword again. ?Okay. Go to the Shadow Thieves guildhouse in Athkatla,? he told them shakily. ?We?ll be there.?

?You?re Shadow Thieves?? demanded Cyreth incredulously. ?Why would Aran let..??

?You know Aran?? Jalik stumbled to his feet. Iraend, besides him, gave a howl of despair. ?Don?t tell him! Please!?

?He?s a friend,? Jaheira?s eyes hardened. ?And we will tell him if you fail to meet us there.?

They nodded fearfully.

?Now get going before I change my mind and Minsc can have you!? Cyreth snapped. The two thieves bolted.


Cyreth sheathed Angurdval and then sank back into her chair as exhaustion overtook her.

?Why would Aran let them hunt us down?? Cyreth asked Jaheira bewilderedly. ?We parted as friends.?

?Perhaps he didn?t get to see this assignment,? suggested Jaheira darkly.

?How could he not see the assignment? I?m sure all of them go through him first!?

?It could have just been slipped into the message box,? Aerie pondered thoughtfully.

?It could have at that,? Imoen reflected. ?The guildhouse is so busy, anything could have happened.?

Cyreth looked up at Minsc and laughed. ?Thank you Minsc? and Boo. You got the information for us.?

Minsc beamed. ?Boo laughed to see those thieves cower! But his laugh is so tiny, you cannot hear him sometimes. Hear? There he laughs again!?

?Thanks Minsc,? Aerie smiled.

Jaheira interrupted. ?We?re probably close to Athkatla if those thieves got it the message yesterday.?

Aerie brightened. ?Could we? possibly visit Quayle while we?re there?? she asked hopefully.

?We?re not there on a??

Minsc cut Jaheira off. ?Of course we shall visit Quayle! Boo longs to see the circus again? that is, if Cyreth doesn?t mind??

?We have to visit the Adventurer?s mart anyway,? Cyreth nodded. ?We?ll be passing that way.?

Jaheira snorted slightly, and then surveyed them all.
?I think we all need a good dinner and a sleep,? she professed. ?Especially this one here,? she turned to the still comatose prisoner.

?I?ll stay up and keep an eye on him,? Cyreth promised.

?Don?t be ridiculous, Cyreth, you?re tottering on your feet!?

?No I?m not, Jaheira. I?m sitting down and I?ll be fine.?
Jaheira threw up her hands in exasperation. ?Suit yourself. We?ll bring some food up for you and whoever he is.?

?I?ll keep you company,? Imoen sat down next to Cyreth.

?I will as well?? Aerie offered.

?You go and eat, Aerie,? Cyreth shook her head. ?You look like you?re about to fall over from starvation.?

?I?m not that bad, am I?? asked Aerie in horror, clasping her hands to her pale cheeks.

?No, you?re not, but you do look hungry,? Imoen laughed.

Aerie blushed. ?Oh, okay then.?
She followed Jaheira and Minsc out the door.


?Do they have money?? Cyreth asked Imoen.

?Yeah, they do. Seems our captors didn?t even rob us, which is surprising. It was all there, along with all our stuff.?

?Our captors?? Cyreth fell into brooding. ?They ambushed us so easily. There were so many of them. Why send two half witted thieves when they could just send their forces again??

?Perhaps they want us to follow this up.?

?What do you mean??

?Well, look at it this way, sis.? Imoen shifted her chair until she was sitting face to face with her sister. ?You?ve just captured someone quite easily. You?ve put them in high security cells. You?ve talked to them??

?Did the person talk to you as well?? asked Cyreth, startled.

Imoen nodded. ?Whoever it is seems to like laughing a lot,? she noted dryly.

?You can?t talk.?

?Yeah, well, I don?t think I?m half as aggravating as whoever it was.?

?That?s debatable. Anyway, go on.?

?Well, you?ve just basically let them walk out the door, sending only a bunch of trolls and undead at them??

?A bunch of trolls and undead? Don?t you mean an army of trolls and undead?? Cyreth snorted.

?Just shut up, sis, and let me keep talking. You basically let them walk out the door, sending only a few forces to hurry them along. You deliberately leave their items in an easy-to-find place. You don?t even take their money away, even though they?ve got a considerable amount. And then you let them escape from your prison. You send just two incompetent thieves after them. Only two. They?re sure to be caught and the message read. Why do you think our captors would do that??

Understanding dawned. ?They wanted us to find the message, didn?t they??

?Sometimes you?re awfully thick, did you know??

?And sometimes you?re so smart you make me sick. But why would they want us to catch the thieves??

?So we could read the message and then try to track them down,? Imoen explained patiently.

?So they?re luring us into a trap??

?They could be.?

?Great. We don?t really have a choice, do we??

Imoen shook her head. ?Nope. If we don?t track them down, they?ll probably just catch us again.?

?I don?t see why they let us go in the first place. They had us helpless, for crying out loud!?

?I don?t have an answer to that,? Imoen admitted.

?Well, at least I don?t feel nearly so stupid anymore.?

?This is because we?re? we used to be Bhaalspawn, right??

Cyreth sighed. ?I think so, Imoen. But if your conversation with whoever caught us was like mine??

?Whoever it was seemed to imply we?re still Bhaalspawn.?

?That?s because I guess we are. Bhaal will always be our father even if his soul no longer is in us.?

?I hate this,? Imoen muttered. ?I thought we were free of this when the Solar took it away.?


Aerie interrupted Cyreth as they came in.

?Imoen, Cyreth, this place isn?t so bad after all.?

?Well, it does exceed expectations,? Jaheira shrugged, setting down a tray of bread and thick stew. ?At least the food is edible.?

?It?s more than edible,? objected Minsc. ?Boo says it was delicious!?

?I think you thought it was delicious too,? Jaheira snorted. ?Well, you certainly managed to scoff down two loaves and three bowls of stew.?

"Boo and I were hungry," Minsc looked injured.

Imoen interrupted them suddenly. "You know, I just thought of something," she grinned, her eyes twinkling with suppressed laughter.

"What?"

"Iraend and Jalik... Idiot and Jackass..."

They all burst out laughing.


Soft candlelight flickered, outlining Cyreth?s glowing auburn hair. Celestial Fury lay in her lap, shining as she polished it gently. When she was done, she slid it back in its sheath and looked around the room. Everyone was asleep. She was alone in keeping her quiet vigil over the prisoner, waiting for him to wake.

The moonlight that had escaped the bindings of the curtains danced along his face. His hazel hair was matted with the filth of the prison, and Cyreth shuddered to think how long he had languished in that cell.
It must have been absolute hell, she thought. Her eyes hardened. Just like Irenicus' dungeon was...
In an effort to distract herself, she drew out her harp. Her voice sang quietly along to the gentle music she played. She prized the harp above all her possessions, for it strengthened her song. And not only that, calmed her when she was angry. Not many things could do that.

Her lilting song seemed to bring slight color back into his pale face. She smiled quietly. He was about her age, she thought, as she saw his face. It pained her to think of herself in his position; helpless. In an effort to distract herself again, she changed the song she was playing to a harder one.


As the morning dawned, Cyreth stopped singing, and strummed a few more notes on her harp lovingly before hooking it back onto her belt. As she turned away from the youth on the bed, she was startled by a voice.

?Angel?? a low, musical voice rasped.

She spun around, and saw the prisoner, no longer unconscious. He had raised himself shakily on one elbow, and his sapphire eyes were looking at her wonderingly.

?Angel??

Edited by Shadowhawke, 21 May 2004 - 03:37 PM.

[Shadowhawke]

Cyreth froze for what could have been an eternity as her own emerald eyes sank deep through compelling sapphire and soul and spirit. Both of them were rendered wordless, gazing wonderingly at the other, their eyes an invisible door to dimensions unexplored and unknown.

At last, eons later, Cyreth found her voice.

?Angel?? she asked, confusedly.

?Am I dead?? he asked dazedly.

?You?re not dead,? Cyreth assured him, laughing slightly. ?Well, you might be. But then we?d be all dead too, and this isn?t much of a heaven.?

He traveled his blue? too blue... eyes around the room. ?Where am I??

?You?re in an inn; the Cry of the Moon inn, if you want to be precise,? Jaheira told him. She blinked sleepily as she walked towards them. ?Strange name; too long to be conventional. Should have just called it something short and easy.?

He opened his mouth to say something, and then gasped and fell back into unconsciousness.

?Gods,? Cyreth hissed, shaking with a sudden rage. ?What could those bastards have done to him to make him this bad??

?It?s a wonder he awoke so soon,? remarked Jaheira.

?So soon?! He?s been unconscious for at least a day since we first saw him!?

Jaheira growled. ?Yes? my sense of time has been strange since that dungeon. I forget.?

Cyreth would have been shocked at the fact Jaheira seemed to be admitting she was wrong without any trace of ill grace at all. But as it was, she was too busy being angry at her captors.



Jaheira swore. ?We either have to get a litter for him or stay one more night,? she muttered angrily.

?We?ll have to get a litter for him, then,? Cyreth shrugged.

?Why don?t we just leave him here in safe hands and pay the innkeeper to look after him?? Jaheira demanded. ?After all, we?ve saved him already, what more can we do??

"He's coming with us," Cyreth told her with steely obstinacy.

"But why? What possible use could he be to us?"

"Look, Jaheira, let's say I'm..."

"Curious," Imoen finished for her, laughing. "You've been curious for Gods know how long. I guess you're not about to stop now, are you?"

"No, I'm not," Cyreth agreed. "I want to know what he did to earn that much... torture," she stated it aloud for the first time.

Imoen winced. "Don't remind me, Sis."

"He'll probably want to go on a revenge-oriented mission after he wakes up fully," Cyreth contemplated. "That might help us..."

"You're going to let him into the party?" Jaheira exploded.

"Well, there's nothing wrong with it..." Aerie offered timidly.

"He could be a spy for Silvanus' sake!"

"I don't think he is."

"Just because you don't think he is doesn't mean anything! People have tricked you in the past, Cyreth, because of your naivete. We don't know anything about him!"

"So?"

"This is reckless," Jaheira muttered.

"I was never known for being rational," grinned Cyreth.


The horses they had purchased from the inn were surprisingly in good condition. Then again, Jaheira admitted, the Cry of the Moon had deceived them three times.
First of all, they had thought it less than the Copper Coronet and had been surprised by the rooms they had been brought to. Second, they had expected the food to be maggot ridden and the ale to be watered down so much it barely foamed anymore. And of course, the last surprise was that the horses were fighting fit.
The litter was hung between Imoen and Jaheira?s horses while Aerie and Cyreth cantered along each side. Aerie was there for her healing abilities. Cyreth, everyone knew, was there because of her legendary curiosity.

Her curiosity was soon aflame when he rose from his state once more. Aerie leapt on him immediately, and as he opened his mouth to talk, he was bathed in a blue healing glow.
At the same time as Aerie moved, Cyreth swung off her horse, her hands dipping into one of the saddlebags. Her fingertips scrabbled around until she pulled out a worn waterbag. She uncapped it, and while he was still glowing faintly blue, she carefully tipped its contents into his open mouth.

?Careful!? Aerie admonished. ?Do you want to choke him??

?Oh, sorry,? muttered Cyreth, replacing the cap.

He uttered a weak laugh at Aerie?s reprimand.
?I needed that?? he coughed.

?Who are you?? Cyreth half asked, half demanded.

?You can interrogate him after,? Aerie whispered. ?Can?t you see how weak he is??

?So who are you?? she pressed, ignoring Aerie.

?Cyreth!? exclaimed Aerie.

?Cyreth?? he stared at her, his expression indescribable.
And then he passed out again.


?He?s going to be like that for quite a while,? Aerie explained. ?So you?ll just have to be patient.?

?He?s been tortured for a long time, Cyreth,? Jaheira agreed crisply. ?He will be passing in and out of consciousness for about three days, at the least.?

?Three days?!?

?At the least,? Jaheira repeated firmly.

?You?ll just have to be patient,? reiterated Aerie, her voice placating.

?Since when was patience ever a word in my vocabulary?? Cyreth snorted.

?Don?t worry, Cyreth,? Minsc assured her. ?I never used to be patient too; even Boo has never been patient, although he has learned. Right Boo??

The hamster?s squeak in reply brought a faint smile to Cyreth?s face. A smile that was quickly lost as Imoen giggled from behind her. ?Oh boy, you really did swoop down on him.?

Cyreth flushed red. ?Hey, I just want to know who he is and why he was in there,? she explained plaintively.

?Sure you do, sis,? smirked Imoen.

?I hate you,? muttered Cyreth under her breath.

?No you don?t; you?re just saying that to cover up,? Imoen laughed impishly.


Their slow pace meant that the two day trip to Athkatla on horseback (they had gotten directions from the innkeeper) was lengthened greatly. Jaheira was fuming.

?We shouldn?t have brought him,? she declared. ?He?s nothing but a burden, now.?

?Oh come off it, Jaheira,? Imoen grinned. ?Cyreth?s right. If I were him, I?d basically be yelling for revenge. And he probably knows more about our captors than we do.?

?He?s also slowing us down,? Jaheira retorted irritably, knowing she was fighting a losing battle.

?Well, we don?t always have to travel at a break-neck speed.?

?I?m quite aware of that, Aerie. But this is a matter of importance.?

?Everything?s always a matter of im??
Minsc interrupted Cyreth as he came galloping back from having scouted ahead.

?Boo says that there is an inn close by!? he informed them. ?We must rest; Boo says the horses are getting tired.?

?Let?s stop, then,? Cyreth suggested, cutting off Jaheira neatly.


Light has a peculiar way of bending what we see to its will, Cyreth observed as the sunlight wove in and out of the patchwork of air, glimmering thoughtfully in the wind.
They would reach Athkatla, infamous, yet somehow comforting, the next day. Already, she thought she would sight it at any moment. There were times when she'd see a faint flickering illusion of it, and yet it was always the light again, playing tricks on her.

The mirages faded out, eventually, when the sun started to set. She could hardly repress her excitement. Tomorrow, she would hopefully find out what this was all about.
Trepidation set in, however. Whoever was powerful enough to capture them so offhandedly, and then just as casually let them escape, must be... powerful.

Aerie cantered up from behind her.

"How is he?" Cyreth demanded immediately.

"Calm down," Aerie laughed. "I was just about to tell you that. He's doing quite well. The last time he woke, he stayed awake for about two hours. At this rate, tomorrow he'll be able to ride with us."

"And will you finally let me talk to him?"

Imoen giggled as she brought up her horse from behind.
"Chill out, sis. You'll get your precious talk with him. But right now, we have to keep you away from him or else he might faint when he sees you."

"Oh shut up," Cyreth muttered as both Imoen and Aerie burst out laughing.


Sinuous strands, thin as shadow threads, wove around. Immovable. Bound. Helpless.
Grey stone shifted roughly under olive skin. The moisture oozed sickeningly inside.
This was wrong. There was something wrong. So much hatred, so much rage... revenge... revenge.
Pain.
Sharp slivers dove deep into bone. Shadow fire licked incessantly, burning away skin and flesh...
Pain.
Blood boiled in anger, poison dripped through the air. The shadow fire intensified. Shadow swept to engulf... shadow... a world of shadows... darkness...
Agony.


The piercing thought called out to Imoen before the screams hit her. She leapt from her bed, pink hair in disarray.

"Sis, SIS! CYRETH!!! WAKE UP!!!"

Imoen shook Cyreth violently, her hands slipping on Cyreth's clammy skin.

"Damn it! Get UP!!"


Pain... pain to last for an eternity and beyond. Needles of agony consuming the heart, the spirit, the soul in shadow...


Imoen gave up. She turned wildly, and saw Jaheira, Aerie and Minsc.

"I can't wake her!" she yelled frantically.

Jaheira looked sharply around and then ran up to Cyreth and slapped her sharply on the face.
As the chaos reigned around her, Aerie struggled hard to keep her cool. Minsc, Jaheira and Imoen were desperately thronged around Cyreth, trying any means available to wake her.
A thrashing figure at the edge of her vision made her spin around.


Aerie ran to the bed and shook him hard.

"Wake up!" she yelled. "Wake up!"

Uncomprehending sapphire eyes stared up at her in confusion.

"What... what was happening?"

"You tell me," Aerie's voice was cold.

He winced. "I don't know... pain..."

"As soon as I woke you, Cyreth stopped screaming," Aerie informed him, her voice hardening. "What happened?"

"Cyreth?"

"Yes, Cyreth!" Aerie felt her anger overcome her, and then pushed it away. A rapid wave of exhaustion suddenly crashed down on her.

"I'm sorry for snapping," she apologized. "But what was going on? What were you dreaming of?"

"Pain," gasped Cyreth, shaking beside her.


Cyreth felt Aerie's gentle blue healing magic, but she kept shaking.

"Stop it, it's no use," she shook her head painfully. "Your healing magic doesn't help."

"What?" demanded Jaheira. "Here, try mine."

"If mine doesn't work why would..." Aerie started indignantly.

Cyreth shook her head again, her face creased with pain. "It doesn't help either."

Jaheira looked baffled for once in her life. "What? But..."

Cyreth's eyes rolled up into her head and she collapsed.

Edited by Shadowhawke, 21 May 2004 - 03:41 PM.

[Shadowhawke]

The gentle hoofbeats of their horses as they came closer and closer to Athkatla seemed like heartbeats. Sunlight shone down from the blue sky; dancing in the sparkling myriads of color in the countryside. But the beauty of the day had done nothing to detract from Cyreth's impatience.

"Am I allowed to talk to him now?" she demanded.

Aerie sighed. "Yes, you are."

Cyreth turned her horse neatly around, and cantered back to where the young man sat, brooding.
He looked up as he heard her move towards him.

"Ah, they've finally let you see me," he smiled gently.

Cyreth laughed wryly. "Yes, it's about time, don't you think?"

He laughed uncertainly in return.

"Who are you?"

"Aerie hasn't even asked me that yet," he commented. "She's just worried about how badly I was... hurt."

"So who are you?" Cyreth pressed.

He laughed again, this time with not hint of the former uncertainty.

"My name is Dirk. And you, I've learnt from Aerie, are none other than the most famous of all Bhaalspawn; Cyreth."

"Oh, I wouldn't say the most famous," Cyreth disagreed. "My dear brothers Gromnir and Balthazar probably hold that title somewhere in the Abyss."

"But you are the most famous Bhaalspawn..." he trailed off, uncertainty tainting his voice again.

"Oh no, I'm probably the most famous former Bhaalspawn, although I share that title with Imoen."

"Aerie forgot to tell me that," Dirk admitted. "Although I..."

"What?" asked Cyreth gently.

"I... I think I used to know far more," he sighed gently.

"What's wrong?" Cyreth looked at him, concern and puzzlement written all over her face.

"I've lost my memory," he told her simply.


Cyreth reined in her horse abruptly. ?You?ve lost your memory??

Dirk nodded, glacier blue eyes frustrated. ?I?m sorry. Aerie has informed me about your desire to seek out your capturer?s identity from my memory. But I don?t know! I remember naught but my name and?? his eyes searched her own emerald ones again.

?I remember naught but my name and yours,? he told her quietly.

?Okay?? Cyreth forced the inscrutable calm she was just as famous for as her indomitable rage to settle upon her. ?Start from the beginning. What can you remember??

Dirk blushed. ?Uh, actually, the first thing I remember is awaking in the litter and seeing your face.?

Cyreth chuckled. ?Sorry about that. Aerie scolded me a lot after that little incident. She thought I was trying to choke you or something.?

?I needed that,? he assured her. ?I could barely talk.?

?Are you sure you don?t remember anything before that?? Cyreth inquired. ?Because you woke up before that; in an inn. You called me an angel.?

?I? I did?? Dirk grew even more crimson.

?Are you sure you don?t remember?? Cyreth asked, raising an eyebrow obliquely.

?No?? stuttered Dirk.

?Have it your way,? chuckled Cyreth.


Imoen snickered quietly in Aerie?s ear as she watched Dirk progressively grow redder.

?I wonder what Cyreth?s talking about,? she grinned wickedly.

?She?s probably questioning him about what he knows,? Aerie laughed. ?You know, if Cyreth wasn?t so famous because of everything she?s done; she?d be famous for her curiosity.?

?She?s famous for her curiosity anyway,? Imoen pointed out. ?But for some reason, I never hear anyone comment on MY curiosity. As in, I wonder what Cyreth?s talking about to make him so red??

?Imoen!? Aerie exclaimed as comprehension dawned.
Imoen rode off; gales of laughter trickling behind her.


?Have you been to Athkatla before?? Cyreth asked, before clapping a hand over her mouth. ?Damn it! I?m sorry!?

?You don?t have to be,? Dirk told her matter-of-factly. ?I?m going to have to live with it, I think.?

?Well, even if you haven?t, I?m sure you?ll be fine,? she assured him.

?So, what?s Athkatla like?? Dirk asked. ?I? I have no recollection of even ever hearing it. Although I must have, I think??

?Athkatla?s great,? smirked Cyreth. ?Intrigue, secrecy, stealth, backstabbling, politics; all hidden under a noble exterior. I love it.?

Catching his shocked look, she laughed. ?Only joking, Dirk. But part of it is true. It?s the most influential city in all of Amn. It?s the capital city, actually. It?s run by the Shadow Thieves. The actual government doesn?t really wield that much power, but it keeps up the façade of ruling the place. But we shouldn?t have to fear the Shadow Thieves, because the leader is a friend.?

?The leader of such a powerful guild is your friend?? Dirk whistled incredulously. ?There must be quite a story behind that, my lady.?

?Don?t call me ?my lady? Dirk,? Cyreth told him in a pained voice. ?I?m far from it.?

?It?s instinctive, my? Cyreth,? Dirk apologized. ?Sorry, I?ll try to stop myself from doing that.?

Cyreth raised a speculative eyebrow. ?If you say ?my lady? instinctively when you address a woman? it might mean that you?re either lowborn or highborn. Probably not in between, although that?s a possibility too.?

?I?m not sure,? admitted Dirk. ?But??

?You can ride a horse,? Cyreth noted excitedly, watching Dirk?s relative ease as he steered his stallion. ?That basically rules out lowborn!?

?I could have been a farmer or something,? pointed out Dirk.

?Not possible,? Cyreth shook her head gleefully. ?Not the way you ride! At least we?re narrowing this thing down!?

?Perhaps we are nearing the answer,? Dirk agreed dubiously.

?There it is again!? Cyreth cried triumphantly.

?What do you mean?? Dirk asked, startled.

?Didn?t you notice? When you talk, you sometimes sound highborn, and then the rest of the time you sound normal. I?m guessing you were in a fairly powerful family, and you didn?t like it. So you slipped out and merged with the merchant class without them knowing. That?s where your normal speech comes from.?

?Your skill in deduction far surpasses my own,? Dirk admitted.

?There it is again!?

?I sound quite garbled,? noted Dirk critically.

?You?ll get over it,? Cyreth grinned.


Athkatla loomed close, as comforting and friendly as ever. Cyreth couldn?t resist it any longer.

?I?m going ahead,? she apologized. ?Sorry, I just have to go??

?I think I see what you mean,? Dirk smiled. ?Homecoming, is it??

?As much a home as I could call it? I guess?? she yelled over her shoulder as she spurred her horse.

?Although Candlekeep?? the rest of her words became inaudible.

Dirk watched as Cyreth, her glorious russet hair flying behind her, galloped off. The sunset was directly behind Athkatla from his vantage point, and to him, it seemed as if she was riding into the very sun itself.


?Uncle Quayle!? cried Aerie happily, embracing the old gnome joyfully.

?My Aerie? my girl?? Quayle buried his graying hair into her slim shoulder. ?It?s been so long since I?ve seen you? my girl??

?It?s been too long,? Aerie wept, tears of happiness overflowing.

?There now, Aerie, don?t cry,? laughed Quayle shakily, wiping away her tears gently with a gentle handkerchief.

Minsc stood by, beaming. ?Ah, it is good to be back in the circus again, isn?t it, Boo?? he asked the hamster happily.

A shrill squeal of agreement answered.

?It hasn?t really changed much,? Jaheira noted, running her hand over the silk of the circus tent. She smiled wearily. ?This brings back many memories? not all of them good.?

Dirk bit his lip.
?What memories?? he asked quietly.

?I do not wish to discuss them with a complete stranger,? she dismissed him crisply.

Dirk studied her; her tense hands on the silk tent, the strained face that was turned away from him.

?You lost someone?? he closed his eyes. ?You lost someone close to you. Your husband??

Jaheira spun around, anger flaring into her own eyes. Her hand came down with a sharp slap.
?What would you know?? she demanded harshly.

Dirk opened his sapphire eyes and looked unflinchingly into her raging ones.

?You are grieving,? he told her simply. ?I read it in your body, your face, your eyes. You have been grieving inside for a long time, but you have only brought it to the surface now.?

?How do you know?? asked Jaheira dangerously.

?I read it in your body, your face, your eyes,? Dirk repeated gently. ?He was very dear to you, even though you did not show it so openly to him. You long for a chance to tell him again how much you loved him. Another chance to tell him you never meant any of the harsh things you said.?

?Damn you,? Jaheira?s eyes burned, flames licking her irises like a bushfire. ?Damn you. How do you know? How do you know?!?

?He knows that you love him, you know,? Dirk continued softly. ?He knows because he sees you every day; bowed down by regret and grief.?

?Enough!? cried Jaheira, and brought her hand down sharply again with a crack. Then she ran out of the tent, tears streaming down her face.



Quayle coughed slightly, and all of the circus workers immediately stopped gaping at Dirk and returned to work.
Cyreth simply nodded at Imoen, who began fervently discussing Athkatla's political status with Quayle. Moving quietly aside, she nimbly dragged Dirk out of the tent.

"Can we follow her?" asked Dirk anxiously.

"Are you crazy?" demanded Cyreth. "Jaheira's known to be the fastest..."

She stopped and sighed. "Fine. I forgot. You don't know. You don't remember."

Her harsh tone stung Dirk to the core. "I didn't mean to send her running out like that," he tried. "I was trying to comfort her."

"How the hell would you know what she's been through?" mandated Cyreth, her voice still unyiedingly cold.

"I saw her suffering," Dirk attempted to explain. "And I saw her husband next to her."

"Her husband's been dead for two years," snapped Cyreth.

"I know," he sighed. "But he was... sorrowing."

"Sorrowing?" echoed Cyreth in disbelief.

"He is held here by her grief; her enormous, unbelievably deep grief."

"Sorry, Dirk," Cyreth looked at him in exasperation. "But do you expect me to believe this?"

"I wouldn't blame you if you didn't," he admitted mildly. "But it's true. I'll even tell you how he looked, if you want."

"Fine, go ahead."

"He has really gentle brown eyes. And soft, light kind of brown hair. He is a fighter, I think, because he had a sword and plate mail."

"Describe the sword," snapped Cyreth.

"It was shining silver, and I saw frost on the hilt. 'Varscona' was written on its hilt."

"I believe you," Cyreth's voice suddenly strangled in her throat. "I believe you."

"I'm glad you do," Dirk confessed quietly. "I'd hate to think you thought me a liar."

Cyreth exhaled. "Oh no. Jaheira could be anywhere."

"She'll come back," Dirk assured her.

"How do you know?" asked Cyreth, her curiosity getting the better of her again.

"I know," he told her simply.


Jaheira fled through the streets, pushing blindly through the startled crowds. Tears soaked her skin, leaving shining trails of sorrow tracing her tanned cheeks.

"Silvanus..." she choked wildly, startling off a few children as she ran past them. "Silvanus... your servant calls to you..."

A never-ending rain of crystal flew down in a cascading waterfall as she ran, the Amulet of Cheetah Speed lending her abnormal speed. Coupled with the Improved Haste spell she'd cast with the help of the Amulet, Jaheira literally flew through the air.
Anything to get away... away...

"Silvanus... help me in this time of need..."

Edited by Shadowhawke, 21 May 2004 - 03:44 PM.

[Shadowhawke]

Cyreth ground her teeth in a mixture of anxiety, helplessness, and something else she couldn't exactly describe.
Solid, solid Jaheira, suddenly rendered helpless by pain. By inner pain. It was ravaging to watch. Cyreth berated herself silently. She should have known. She was the leader of the group. She should have somehow known and helped. And then Dirk had seen in a matter of seconds what she had not in two years...

"It wasn't your fault."

"Stop surprising me, Dirk," Cyreth ordered through gritted teeth. "I don't know how you see dead people or read my mind, but stop it."

Dirk winced. "I don't read your mind," he told her, hurt. "A person's inner thoughts belong to them and them alone."

"Oh really?" demanded Cyreth. "Then how come you know what I'm thinking?"

"I don't know what you're thinking. I just know that you're feeling guilty."

"And how would you know that without reading my mind?"

"I read it in your body, your face, your..."

"I heard it all before you made Jaheira run off," she told him bitingly.

Dirk winced again. "I didn't mean to make her run off, Cyreth," his sea-blue eyes pleaded with her to understand. "I was trying to help her; to comfort her. She was hurting so much, Cyreth. I couldn't just stand by and watch."

"Couldn't you have done something else?" demanded Cyreth.

"No," Dirk shook his head firmly. "I think that me saying that might have helped her."

"Helped her run off?" asked Cyreth, sarcasm saturating her voice.

"No!"

"Well what, then?"

"Helped her let out those feelings. It's been bottled inside her too long, Cyreth. It's been locked up inside her for so long I think that it eventually would have driven her into depression. Then suicide."

"WHAT?!" shrieked Cyreth, rounding on him. "Dammit! How would you know?"

"I just know," Dirk cried, exasperated. "Okay, maybe I'm wrong. I probably am. But I did what I thought best, just as you did."

Cyreth froze for an eon, and then slumped.

"I'm sorry Dirk," she apologized quietly. "But there's something else you should know. I'm not only famous for being a former Bhaalspawn and for being curious. I'm also famed for my horrible temper. Rest assured, though. I usually get quite calm afterwards."

Dirk smiled wryly. "I think 'horrible temper' describes it quite well."

"Oh Gods, Dirk. I said such awful things. I really am sorry. I really am," her eyes looked pleadingly into his this time.

"I'm sorry too, for causing all of this."

"It's not your fault. You did what you thought best, after all. As you said."

"As I said," echoed Dirk.
He grimaced. "I just hope that the other thing I said will happen."

"What do you mean?"

"I hope she comes back..."


Jaheira kept running. She didn't know how far she ran. Time and distance were obsolete to her now. All she was, all she was aware of, was her own rasping breath and her heartbeat. And her pain.

"Silvanus..." Jaheira begged, tremblingly. "Please..."

"I hear your call, Jaheira."

"Silvanus," pleaded Jaheira; not even wondering that her god should answer her. "Silvanus, take this guilt out of me. Banish it. Please... Silvanus! I beg you!"

"I cannot, Jaheira," Silvanus' gentle voice echoed sadly in her mind. I cannot. That is for you to do and you alone.

"Silvanus..." wailed Jaheira, But Silvanus' voice was gone.


"Cyreth?"

Cyreth stood, shaking in the corner of the room. Her lightly tanned skin was as white as it could get. She looked like a ghost.

"Please, Dirk," she pleaded, her voice strained. "I need to be alone right now."

"No you don't," he said firmly.

"I do," she ground her teeth again. "Dirk, please, I do."

"No you don't," he reiterated calmly.

"Oh gods, Dirk!" Cyreth turned and looked helplessly at him. "We're basically complete strangers, Dirk. I don't know what to do. It's so weird."

"What?" Dirk gently prompted her.

"You walk into our life and just wreak havoc! How can a complete stranger do that? How can a complete stranger know how you feel?"

"Your actions. Your body. You tell me. I don't know how I can do this, but I can."

"How, though? You don't know anything about us,,, well, you're not supposed to know anything about us... Damn it, Dirk! You're not supposed to be able to delve into somebody's soul like that!"

"And you accuse me of sounding highborn?"

"Stop it, Dirk!" snapped Cyreth.

"Sorry. Just trying to lighten the situation," Dirk apologized, crestfallen. "Inappropriate, I know. I'm sorry."

"I don't understand... you've awoken something... I didn't know... this grief..."

"I'll leave," Dirk turned towards the door.

"No," Cyreth said suddenly. "No. Stay, Dirk. Stay. I think I need you."

Dirk shut the door obediently, and made his way gradually back to where she knelt, sunk to her knees.
Then, the storm broke, and she fell. Weeping, the tears blinding her, she clung to him like a child.


"Dear gods!"

Someone crossed to Jaheira's side. Someone took her, shaking, to a private room. Someone wiped her tears.

"You're okay. You're okay," soothed a gentle voice.

"Silvanus, help me!" choked out Jaheira.
Someone held her. Someone held her gently. Feelingly. Comfortingly.

"Please..." she wept inconsolably. "Please!"

She lost herself in her breathing. She lost herself in her heartbeat.
And with her heartbeat, there was a steady rhythm.
Pain, agony, guilt, grief, pain, agony, guilt, grief.
It drummed on and on in her chest. Beating out her spirit, her soul, her grief, her pain, her guilt...
Her anger...

"Damn you!" she cried at the sky. "Damn you! Damn you, Irenicus! Damn you to the everlasting hells and beyond!"

"It's okay, it's okay. It's over. It's over."

"Irenicus! You died twice but it was not enough! Irenicus! I will be revenged! Irenicus! Irenicus! Irenicus! Irenicus! Khalid! Khalid! Khalid!"

She clung to whoever was holding her, oblivious to all but her pain. Her guilt. Her anger.

"Khalid! Why did you die?! Why did you leave me?! Why?! Why?! Khalid! Khalid! Kha-liiiid!"

"Khalid is safe. He is safe."

"Why?!" shrieked Jaheira. "Why?!"

"Why?!" cried Cyreth, weeping into Dirk's shoulder. "Why?! Dammit! Why?!"

"Why?! Why?!"

"Why?!"


Souls binded across the distance between them. Shared pain. Shared grief. Shared guilt. Shared anger. Love intertwined eternally in their hearts.


"I killed him, Dirk! I'll always be the Child! A Bhaalspawn! A child who brings death and destruction to all those she loves... A child who will always, always bring death and destruction to those she loves. He was a father to me, Dirk. Gorion had just been murdered, and he and Jaheira helped me through that! I killed Gorion as well! I killed everyone, Dirk, everyone! Death and destruction, death and destruction..."

"It doesn't have to be like that," Dirk held her tighter. "You have saved so many too. With every life you too, you saved a hundred more."

"But the ones I loved..."

"You saved so many you loved as well. Aerie told me. Imoen. You saved Imoen."

"I killed Khalid. Gorion. So many... So many..."

"You saved Imoen."

"I killed everyone! And then Jaheira! She never once cried for Khalid for alll those two years. I was so worried, but I was so busy as well. I couldn't even take the time to sit down and talk with her about it! I should have! It was my fault!"

"You saved so many, Cyreth."

"I killed theim both, Dirk! After all Gorion and Khalid did for me, I killed both of them! If they'd never met me, they would have lived!"

"You didn't kill them, Cyreth. You didn't."

"If Gorion hadn't saved me, Sarevok wouldn't have killed him. I ran from him, Dirk. Gorion told me to run, so I ran. I should have stayed!"

"He wanted you to live, Cyreth. He loved you enough to die for you," Dirk's voice cracked with emotion. "He loved you. That's all that matters. And he still loves you. He does. And so does Khalid."

"I let go of Gorion," Cyreth raised her tear-stained face to his. "I let go of him. But Khalid..."

"He followed you of his own free will," soothed Dirk, holding her tightly. "He is a brave man..."

His eyes suddenly widened. "He's gone."

"What?" hiccoughed Cyreth shakily.

"He's gone. His spirit was here, watching you. But now he's gone."

"Jaheira," whispered Cyreth wonderingly.


"Kha-liiiiiid! Kha-liiiiid! Why?! You... you said our love would be undying! You promised me we'd never be apart! You promised me that we'd always be there for another! Why did you leave me, Khalid?! Why?"

"I have never left you, Jaheira."

Jaheira, still blinded by tears, looked up quaveringly.

"Kha-Kha-Khalid?"

"I have always loved you, Jaheira. I always will." The ghost looked compassionately at her. "I have watched you for two years now, Jaheira. The guilt and the grief. The thick and the thin. I have been with you through all of that. Our love is undying. We will never be apart. We will always be there for each other. But you have to let go, Jaheira. You have to let go. Too long have I lingered here. I have been chained to you by your guilt and grief. Let go, Jaheira. Let go of the grief. Let go of the guilt."

"Khalid..." wept Jaheira. "My love... I killed you!"

"Irenicus killed me," Khalid looked into her eyes. "And you have kept me alive. But it is time to let go now."

"How can I let go?" whispered Jaheira. "How? I love you, Khalid. Why did you leave me?"

"l have never left you, Jaheira. I love you. I love you. But you must let go."

"But how?" asked Jaheira brokenly. "But how?"

"You know how to, Jaheira. Let go."

Grief. Guilt. Pain. Agony. No... anger.
Let go of the anger.
Grief. Guilt. Pain.
Let go of the agony.
Grief. Guilt.
Let go of the pain.
Grief.
Let... let go of the guilt.

Let... let go. Let go. Let go of the grief. Let go...


"Silvanus, guide the spirit to the light," Jaheira chanted tremblingly again. "Guide the spirit to the light... Guide the spirit to the light... I have held on too long. Truly, this time I chant. Guide the spirit to the light..."

Khalid sighed, relief washing through his voice. "Jaheira... know that I am always watching you from above. I will always be there. Carry in your heart the knowledge that you kept me alive... Carry in your heart my heart. Carry in your soul my soul. We will always be together."

The ghost dissapated, and Jaheira sank, weeping hysterically, onto the floor.


Jaheira disentangled herself from whoever was holding her, and then looked up.
It was a Priest of Lathander.
God of creativity, youth... and renewal.
Renewal.
She must have run instinctively into the Temple of Lathander's sanctuary.
No.
Silvanus, Khalid.
They'd both guided her into the temple.

"Thank... thank you," she whispered.

"It's over now," he said calmly. But she saw tears trickle down his youthful face.

"Thank you... thank you so much..."

"It is hard to let go."

"Thank you..."

"You must go now," he said gently. "Your companions must be waiting."

Jaheira's head whipped up sharply. "Cyreth!"

"Go now," repeated the priest. "The temple of Lathander is always open to all who are ready to let go," he clasped her hand.

"Thank you... so much."

"Lathander bless you."

Jaheira ran out of the temple.


Time pounded. Breath pounded. Heart pounded. No longer did guilt or grief pound.
Love.
Love pounded in her heart.
Khalid's love.
Her own love.
Everyone who cared about her.
Everyone she cared about.
She would never forget.


Cyreth whirled around and saw Jaheira standing, dry tear trails still on her face. The two women's eyes met, and then wordlessly, they embraced.
Dirk looked on wonderingly. A gentle aura of light emanated from them. He felt sure that no normal eye could see what he was seeing right now.
Because there was a third person in the embrace.
Khalid, no longer a ghost. No longer a ghost, but an astral spirit.
And then there was a fourth person. Holding them all tightly.
It must be... Gorion.
The four shined brightly, so bright that Dirk had to shield his eyes. When he finally opened them, Khalid and Gorion were gone.
Both Jaheira and Cyreth had finally let go.

Edited by Shadowhawke, 21 May 2004 - 03:46 PM.

[Shadowhawke]

(Heh, after all that emotional baggage, hopefully this might lighten things up a bit. Can't promise though. Gee, it isn't good to write things too late... your brain kind of plays tricks on you... )

Imoen shifted uncomfortably on the hard inn seat. The Den of the Seven Vales was comfortable enough, but when you had been riding for three days straight?
Certain areas were quite tender.

Aerie wilted forlornly behind her. ?I don?t know what?s happening,? she mourned. ?I hope everything?s okay.?

?Yeah? so do I,? muttered Imoen. ?I hope Cyreth talks to me after this. She does usually... but I'm not sure if she will this time."

"Why not?" questioned Aerie, confused.

"She's been talking quite a lot to whatsisname, hasn't she?"

"Dirk," laughed Aerie. "Not whatsisname!"

"Close enough," shrugged Imoen. "But my point is, I wonder why. He's a total stranger, and the fact she let him into her room when she didn't let me... sorta hurts."

"I'm sure she didn't mean it," comforted Aerie.

"Yeah, well," scowled Imoen. "You never know ho Cyreth feels."

"He's probably going to be joining the group," Aerie commented after a short period of silence.

"I wouldn't be surprised, with all the time she's spending with him," snorted Imoen. "I wonder why, though. If he's lost his memory, then what use can he be to her?"

"You probably know Cyreth better than I do," Aerie noted. "But I'd say that her curiosity's not going to be stopped by such a small barrier as him having amnesia."

"You're right," a small grin cracked over Imoen's face.

"It'll be fine," Aerie stated.

"Yeah... oh, Minsc!
Minsc grinned at Imoen floridly as he stumbled to the table.

"The food this inn sells is very good!" he told them excitedly. "Very good! Even Boo likes it!"
The short squeak did indeed sound extraordinarily satisfied.

"Minsc," Aerie sighed. "How much did you eat?"

"Only about..."

"On second thoughts," Aerie laughed. "I don't really want to know."
Minsc looked injured.

Cyreth walked quietly into the room, Dirk and Jaheira trailing behind her.

"Imoen," she said softly. "I really need to talk to you."
Aerie nudged Imoen happily, and Imoen grinned.

"You always need to talk to me, sis," she laughed. "Come on, unload your worries."

"Uh, could we do that in private?" asked Cyreth pointedly.

"If you want," shrugged Imoen.


"We never really grieved for Gorion or Khalid properly, did we?" Cyreth inquired sadly as soon as the door had swung shut.

"No, we didn't," Imoen agreed with absolute honesty. "We were always too busy trying to stop everyone from killing us."

"So it seems now," sighed Cyreth, walking over to the window.
The bustling noise of Waukeen's Promenade greeted her. Bright colors shone from the shops crying their wares. The circus tent stood prominently and proudly, flashing it's soft silk. The circus animals stalked their cages.
But it was not really all this that caught her eye. Instead, she centered down on a young woman in the midst of the crowd, squealing in delight as a man grabbed her, and laughingly caught her in a rough embrace.

"Do you see her, Imoen?" asked Cyreth softly.

"Well of course I see her, sis," Imoen commented matter-of-factly. "I'm not blind, after all. What's your point?"

"She's so... normal. She's probably never seen someone die in front of her. Never felt the tug of the blade as someone slipped of the edge. Never saw the blood. The tears. The vomit. The hatred. She's so innocent, she's so happy. She's got someone who loves her..."

Imoen bristled. "Hey, I love ya!"

"Thanks, Imoen," smiled Cyreth faintly. "But I think you know what I mean."

"Fine," sniffed Imoen. "Just 'cause it's a sisterly love..."

"Yeah, well, moving on," Cyreth stumbled, blushing.

"Oh hell, get to the point, Cyreth," Imoen demanded. "Is it Dirk?"

"No! I was thinking, life just seems so stupid sometimes..."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" half-yelled Imoen. "How can you say life is stupid?! After we all fought so damn hard to keep it?!"

"Calm down Imoen," Cyreth tried. "I didn't mean that! That slipped out! I just feel so stressed, sometimes. I mean, it's one thing after another. Gorion died, and we were basically on our own. Then we had Sarevok to deal with. And after that, Irenicus. And right after that, our dear brothers and sisters out thirsting for our blood. Then Melissan..."

"And now this," Imoen finished for her. "I think I get what you mean, but is this really... I don't know. What made you say that life is stupid?"

"I didn't mean that. I just meant... it's so rushed. Everything's so rushed. We just move on, and on, we never get to rest or anything. As soon as we've defeated one person who's out for our blood, then there's another."

"That's part of the job, sis," Imoen flashed a wry smile.

"What job?"

"The job of being a retired Bhaalspawn, of course," grinned Imoen.

"I guess... I don't know. I just feel so tired. Back there, when I wouldn't let you into my room, I felt so dead. I wanted to be alone."

"Why did you let Dirk in, then?"

"Because he hasn't been through this all. He could sympathize without even knowing properly what I was talking about."

Imoen exhaled. "Okay. I get you. Now what?"

"Well, Jaheira never got the chance to mourn Khalid too. Neither did I. That's over and done with, now... and now we have to move onto the new matter at hand..."

"Whoever staged that dirty ambush," Imoen stated. "Right?"

"Yeah... I just don't know where to start."

"The thieves guild is quite an obvious starter."

"But after that?"

"We follow whatever lead we get."

"But what happens if there ISN'T a lead?"

"There's always a lead, sis."

"I love your optimism, sometimes... and it also really irritates me, too."

"I love your pessimism, sometimes... and it also really, really iritates me, too."

"Thanks, Imoen. I just needed to talk."

"I'm always here," grinned Imoen. "And I'm always willing to listen. It's part of the job of being the sister of a famous heroine who worries too much."
She dodged a good-natured swipe and ran, laughing.


The Den of the Seven Vales was just as it used to be, Cyreth noted as she finally came down to the main room. Raucous, fairly comfortable, and the watered down ale that was its most famous trademark.
She sat down heavily on one of the seats, wincing as certain tender parts came into contact with the wood.

?Aching from the horses?? asked Aerie sympathetically. ?So am I.?

?So are we all,? groaned Imoen, who appeared from the staircase that Cyreth had just vacated.

Cyreth jumped. ?What?! How come I didn?t see you there??

?Stealth is useful in more ways than one? especially when a homicidal sister is trying to slap you,? laughed Imoen.

?Homicidal?? Cyreth was injured.

?Well? you know what I mean.?

?Whatever. Where?s Minsc, Jaheira and Dirk??

?They?re showing Dirk around Athkatla. Jaheira?s being quite nice to him now? I wonder why??

?Come on,? sighed Cyreth. ?That should be blatantly obvious.?

?Why? I mean, just two hours ago he reminded her about how her husband? her life died.?

?And he helped to let out all that pent-up feeling. Anyone who can do that is valuable.?

?I thought so,? Aerie remarked satisfactorily.

?What do you mean??

?Dirk?s going to be joining us, isn?t he??

?He sure is,? Cyreth agreed. ?Well, at least if he wants to. He might prove valuable if his memory comes back. And the mere fact that he helped Jaheira and I??

?How?d he help you??

?I never got the chance to grieve for Gorion or Khalid either.?

?You were always closer to Gorion than I was,? Imoen sighed. ?I always hung around old Winthrop Puff-guts.?

?Imoen!? cried Aerie.

?What? That was his name!?

?Imoen?s name for him,? corrected Cyreth, smiling. ?The rest of us knew him as Winthrop.?

?I?ve heard so many stories of Candlekeep,? Aerie told them eagerly. ?Stories of books piled to rafters, old sages, wise tutors, a huge library with fountains, Alaundo??

?Ever hear the one about when the Doppelgangers infiltrated Candlekeep and framed us for the murder of the leaders of the Iron Throne? That was a marvelous story. And the Candlekeep Catacombs? The resting place of Alaundo? and the living place of about a million skeletons, mummies, doppelgangers, ghouls and ghasts? That was a brilliant story too!?

?Hey! Calm down, Imoen!?

?Well it?s true, you know! All of those stories were true as well!?

Aerie looked, stunned, at Imoen, all of a sudden raving and ranting her heart out. ?And did you hear the one about???

Cyreth forcefully pushed Imoen back down onto her seat. ?Sure, those stories are true, Imoen,? she said sharply. ?But the ones Aerie talked about are true as well.?

Imoen, taut as a bow, suddenly slumped.
?Oh gods? I don?t know what came over me,? she muttered faintly. ?You know, Cyreth, I think that I need someone to unload my worries on as well.?

Understanding suddenly dawned in Cyreth?s eyes. ?You never really recovered from that, did you??

Imoen let a shudder wrack her whole body. ?How could I? Dear old Candlekeep? we?d lived there for nigh on twenty years? most of our lives! And then to come back? and the stench of evil was everywhere? we couldn?t even tell who was for real and who had been replaced by doppelgangers. All our old friends? Phyldia attacked us! I shot an arrow through her heart, and then she turned into this filthy doppelganger! And everyone? everyone??

Imoen looked as if she was about to burst into tears. Stricken, Aerie rushed to her side as well.

?I?m so sorry, Imoen,? she exclaimed penitently. ?I didn?t know??

Imoen shivered feverishly. ?Sorry, I didn?t know I?d react like that as well.?

Cyreth stepped over to comfortingly hug Imoen, and at that moment, her journal flew out of her pocket.
She picked it up, hugging Imoen with one arm, but as she moved to put the errant journal back into her pocket, the page it had flipped to caught her eye.

Day 3, Hour 13 (3 Alturiak, 1371)
Today it seems, is a time of reflection. Things keep coming back to all of us. Things in our past that we thought we?d escaped? or forgotten.
But the passage of years has made its indelible mark on all of us. Four years ago, both Imoen and I were still innocents? I only twenty years, her only eighteen. But now? in the space of four small years?
Gorion was alive then. Khalid and Jaheira were together. Minsc was trying to rescue Dynaheir?
Today is a day of remembering what the years have heaped on us.
To remember, and let go?


Cyreth had long become accustomed to her enchanted journal doing the writing for her during the day, but this had struck her by surprise. She hadn?t looked at her journal for a long time.
She forced her eyes away from it, shoved it in her pocket, and quietly encircled Imoen comfortingly.
To remember, and let go?

Edited by Shadowhawke, 21 May 2004 - 03:48 PM.

[Shadowhawke]

The inn door burst open, and Jaheira walked proudly through, no trace of her crying storm showing on her face. Dirk slipped in quietly from behind her, and Minsc ambled along happily to bring up the rear.

?How did you like your glimpse of Athkatla, Dirk?? asked Imoen shakily, but cheerily, pushing away Cyreth?s arms and Aerie?s hand.

?I seem to recall such bustling crowds?? Dirk stuttered wonderingly. ?But I am not sure. All I know is that Athkatla is the busiest and most beautiful place I?ve seen that I? remember.?

?I wonder why,? Cyreth laughed dryly.


Cyreth approached Dirk cautiously that night, praying fervently that this conversation would turn out the way she wanted it to.
They had decided to spend a night in luxury, for once, so Imoen and Cyreth had their own room, while Minsc and Dirk had their own, and Aerie shared with Jaheira. But Minsc was now entertaining Imoen with stories of his homeland and Boo, and Dirk was alone.
She took a deep breath, and knocked quietly on the door.

?Yes, Cyreth??

She swore quietly. How did he know it was her?
She steeled herself and pushed open the door.
Dirk was leaning on the windowsill, looking down, marveling at the beauty of Waukeen?s Promenade at night.

?Yes my? Cyreth?? he asked again, turning around to face her.

?Good, you remembered,? she grinned.

?I think I?m suffering a bout of that highborn speech you were talking about.?

?Hopefully you?ll get over that. Anyway, since you somehow knew it was me, there, I think you probably know what I want to talk about.?

?Actually, I am ignorant of what you wish to discuss. Pray, enlighten me.?

Cyreth groaned.

?Sorry, it?s instinctive.?

?Never mind, Dirk. Anyway, what I wanted to say was that? well? what are you planning to do??

?What do you mean??

?I don?t know? what do you want to do??

?I don?t comprehend?? his eyes suddenly flashed, understanding. ?Are you asking me if I?m going to strike out on my own or stay with you??

?Yes,? Cyreth agreed. ?Basically. So what are you going to do??

Dirk looked at her again, deep into her eyes. Emerald melded with sapphire, traveling through heart and soul?
?Am I welcome here?? Dirk asked finally, his voice hooded.

?You?ll always be welcome here,? Cyreth stated fiercely. ?Sure, complete stranger you may be, you helped Jaheira and me, and you?re also another victim of our joint capturers. An enemy of an enemy is a friend, or so they say. And I think that you would make a very good friend, Dirk.?

?Aren?t I already??

?I?d hope so,? Cyreth replied, complete honesty in her voice. ?I don?t know. Are you??

?Yes,? Dirk agreed. ?Yes, I think I am? hopefully.?

Cyreth grinned. ?So will you stay??

?Yes, I will.?

His eyes suddenly seemed distant, and he returned to contemplating the night outside. ?Do you know what? I remember anything. I don?t know anything. But I do know one thing for sure.?

?What??

?Whoever? did this to me? I will have my revenge.?


Cold steel grated in his voice, and he suddenly sounded as harsh and cold as an old raven. A strange sort of power radiated from him, and Cyreth instinctively stepped back.
Then he slumped back into the Dirk she knew, and he turned, smiling sadly. ?I?m sorry to sound so bloodthirsty. But perhaps my amnesia is not total after all.?

?Why do you say that??

?Because I can remember some things,? Dirk closed his eyes. ?It was the torture. I can remember the torture I went through??

He opened his eyes again. ?And I remember the pain. I think that any revenge is justified; both on your part and mine.?

Cyreth smiled grimly. ?I think so too.?

The silence reigned totally for about a second, and then Cyreth laughed.

?I?m glad you?ve lost the highborn speech for now.?

?My pardon, lady?? asked Dirk roguishly.

They laughed together again, and then Cyreth quietly exited, a strange feeling of exultation dancing in her body.


The morning dawned. None of them asked any questions about Dirk, all knew instinctively what had transpired that past night. And they all approved.
The Adventurer?s Mart was as packed full of items as it always had been. Cyreth quietly ordered them all to have a look and see if they needed anything.
She was looking at a brilliant katana regretfully, when she heard a cry of amazement and joy.
She ran to the source, and found Minsc cradling a pile of cloth.

?Do you see, Cyreth? I thought I had lost this forever when Irenicus took it? But now, see? It is back again! Boo recognized it! Evil?s missiles shall have no effect on us again! And we shall be free to use the boot of justice up their??

?But Minsc, what is it??

Minsc shook the blue cloak out, and the shifting reminded her?
The Cloak of Displacement.
One that had given all of them serious eyestrain.
One that had led to Imoen attempting to jinx it once when she was angry.
One that had led to early fatigue from the serious eyestrain.
But it was all worth it.

?Bring it to the desk!? Cyreth told him eagerly. She looked at the price tag, shrugged, and gave Minsc the money. ?It will be good to have this in our group again!?

Minsc beamed, and seconds later, he was back?
Or rather, about five of him were back.
And about five of Boo, as well.
Minsc and Boo were shifting and unclear, about two different images extending out from either side of both of them. You could barely tell which image was the real Minsc? and Boo.
Dirk rounded the corner and stepped back in amazement. ?What?!?

?It?s the Cloak of Displacement,? Cyreth told him excitedly.

Aerie peeked out from behind him. ?Wow!? she cried.

?Oh, not that thing again,? groaned Jaheira. A soft smile spread over her face. ?Khalid used to say that Minsc alone could scare off about five ogrillons if he had the cloak on.?

?Minsc and BOO! You FORGOT BOO!!?

?My apologies, Minsc,? laughed Jaheira. ?Minsc and Boo.?


They were just walking out of the shop, having bought only the Cloak of Displacement and sold a few odds and ends, when Dirk suddenly stopped short and stared.
Two long swords hung side by side, a pair on the wall. He ran over to them, and ran his hands lovingly over the intricate steel.

?Be careful, young one,? warned Ribald from his desk. ?Those two swords have been the cause of a lot of injuries among the customers. They wouldn?t let anybody pick them up.?

?They will let me pick them up,? Dirk said quietly, and he took the two of them off the wall before Ribald could protest.

They did nothing. They did nothing but gleam, and suddenly, Dirk was surrounded in a silver light, that gradually dimmed down.

?Well, I?ll be blowed,? exclaimed Ribald. ?Those two swords have burnt ten of my customers!?

?Cyreth?? pleaded Dirk.

?Of course,? Cyreth gave him the money.

Jaheira chuckled dryly. ?Four years of adventuring brings you a LOT of gold.?


They walked out of the Adventurer?s Mart, Dirk?s hands resting on the two swords wonderingly.
Something stirred in the back of his memory.

?Here, son.?

?These are mine?? Dirk exclaimed.

?You?ve earned it, son. I am too old to wield these any more in the name of the Star Wolves. Look after them. I have taught you all I know, now. It is time for you to face the world.?

?Halren, I can?t.?

?Oh yes you can, son. They are yours, now. I have incanted the ownership spell over them. They will no longer respond to my hands. They will respond to yours.?

?Halren, you didn?t need to do that!?

?They are your swords now. Remember the ownership spell, when you need to pass them on to your son.?

?My son?? asked Dirk, bewildered.

?Have you forgotten, Dirk??

Dirk blushed. ?You never really talk much about your foresight.?

?But I do now. Remember, Dirk. Remember the enemies that are out for all those who wield in the name of the Star Wolves.?

?I will, Halren,? Dirk said fiercely. ?I will!?


?Starmorn,? Dirk traced one of the swords.

?What?? asked Cyreth.

?Stareve,? Dirk clasped the other one.

?What?? reiterated Cyreth, confused.

?Starmorn and Stareve, the swords of he who wields in the name of the Star Wolves,? Dirk chanted.

?Gods??

The others had walked ahead, so none heard the note of rising excitement in Cyreth?s voice except for Dirk.

?You?re remembering!? she exclaimed. ?You?re remembering!?

?I am!? agreed Dirk, surprise in his voice. ?I am!?

Edited by Shadowhawke, 21 May 2004 - 03:51 PM.

[Shadowhawke]

Aran Linvail snorted in disgust as the wretched thief before him screamed for mercy.

?You should have thought about what would happen to you before you went and killed Grelen,? he smiled pleasantly.

?Mercy, my lord! Please! Mercy!?

?I think not, Vaner, I think not,? Aran replied coolly.

Vaner suddenly grinned; an animalistic, ferocious grimace. So horrific, that though Aran held his ground, even the master torturer stepped back.

?You will be brought down, Aran,? snarled Vaner viciously. ?You and all of the Shadow Thief scum. I will have my will at last!?

Aran raised an eyebrow. ?Shadow Thief scum? Why, I do believe that includes you.?

A startling, gurgling giggle burst forth from his lips. ?Oh, no, Aran. Oh no. You?ll be squealing for mercy before I?m done with you! Just like Grelen squealed? like the coward he??

Vaner never got to finish his sentence. With a roar, Gaelan Bayle flew forwards and smashed his fist in Vaner?s face. Vaner snapped back abruptly, only kept up by the bonds of the rack.

?Don?t you dare besmirch my brother?s name on your foul lips!? Gaelan hissed, spitting directly into Vaner?s face.

?Or what, Gaelan?? sneered Vaner, unperturbed by the blood and spittle running down his cheek. "Or what? Do you want me to tell you how he screamed as I gutted him? Perhaps how he writhed when I finally..."

?Gaelan!? Aran commanded curtly.

Gaelan, who?d been about to hit Vaner again, froze, and then the red drained out of his face to leave ice. With great difficulty, he restrained himself, and sank back into the shadows behind Aran.

?Risaan,? Aran beckoned.

Risaan walked forwards, and stared into Vaner?s bulging eyes. Vaner had suddenly fainted, yet his eyes remained open, blank and unseeing. A few whispers of arcane magic streamed forth from his fingers to wrap around the thief.

?He?s?? Risaan began with horror in his voice, before being thrown across the room to smash into the stone wall.

?Risaan!? cried Gaelan, who ran over to help.

Despite his worry for his archmage, Aran stayed put, scanning Vaner with his piercing eyes.

?Risaan?? he questioned quietly.

Blood still bubbling from the archmage?s mouth, he managed to walk to Aran?s side, leaning heavily on Gaelan.

?This isn?t Vaner,? he exclaimed hoarsely, horror slowly increasing in his eyes.

?What do you mean this isn?t Vaner?? demanded Aran.

?This is Vaner?s body, but his mind is gone. Completely gone. There is someone controlling him. Controlling his voice, his actions. The torture back there served only to bring Vaner back for a split second before whoever it is took him over again??

A hideous cackling laugh burst forth from the thief?s lips, the inhuman laugh making Aran?s blood cold. Vaner jolted back from his oblivion, the spit and blood and his face combining to make a ghastly mixture.

?So, Archmage, you have found me out,? slurred Vaner drunkenly.

?Who are you?? Aran mandated dangerously.

?Wouldn?t you like to know, little Aran. Wouldn?t you like to know??

And with that, the voice faded away, and Vaner slumped on the rack, unconscious.
But the cackling laughter echoed on and on, chilling Aran to the bone.


?Let us pass, damn you!?

?The leader of the Shadow Thieves is not to be disturbed!?

?It?s us, don?t you remember??

?I have been here for a year already and have never set eyes on you in my life. You shall not pass.?

?For gods sakes, we know him! Let us through!?

?Step away, missy, or I?ll be forced to shove my sword into your gullet.?

?I don?t think so,? someone said coolly. There was a sound of drawing steel.

Aran leapt to his feet and hurtled out to the corridor. ?What the???

?Aran!? yelled Imoen, dropping her staff and running towards him.

In a quick, polished move, the guard shot a small dart after her, aiming directly at her back.
Minsc and Aran leapt for the flying dart at the same time, but Minsc got there first. His huge fist deflected the dart, causing it to smash harmlessly into the wall.
Blood trickled slowly down his knuckles, but he paid no attention to his wound. With a bellow of absolute rage, he launched himself at the now terrified guard, who attempted to melt away into the shadows, but instead found himself being pounded against the wall by an enraged Minsc.

?Minsc!? hollered Cyreth. ?Minsc, dammit! Stop it!?

But her words could not reach him through his berserker rage, and helplessly, Cyreth looked instinctively to Jaheira.

?Minsc!? yelled Jaheira, trying vainly to pull him off the now unsurprisingly unconscious guard.

Yet her voice could not get through either.
Aerie started to incant her magic desperately, attempting to put Minsc to sleep. But before the arcane energy left her fingers, she saw a bolt of blue light flash past her.
Instantly, Minsc tumbled over onto the floor, gasping.
They all turned to look at where the magic had come from.


Dirk walked forth unassumingly to help Minsc to sit up and lean against the wall. ?Are you alright??

?What? what happened?? Minsc looked confused.

?You went ballistic and half-killed my guard,? Aran informed him lightly.

?You give us an odd reception, master thief,? Jaheira commented dryly, leaning over to inspect Aran?s guard.

?That wasn?t my fault, that was just Chalander being overprotective,? Aran protested.

?Overprotective?? Cyreth raised an inquiring eyebrow.
Aran was about to retort when he saw that she had just extracted a folded note from Chalander?s pocket, and was perusing it intently.

?What is it?? he questioned.

?Read for yourself, Aran. And then answer my questions.?

He accepted the note, but then the tone of her voice hit him in full. He looked up sharply, and saw her emerald eyes, hard as the jewel itself.

Chalander, this is probably your biggest assignment ever, and I do not advise you to fail. The godchild and her party will come to the Stronghold. Capture them. When they have been rendered unconscious, you will receive further orders.


?What the..??

?What is it?? demanded Jaheira.

Aran tossed her the note, and then slumped back onto the wall, stunned.
Jaheira raised her eyes incredulously from the page when she?d finished. ?Aran,? she hissed. ?What is the meaning of this??

?Read it aloud, Jaheira,? Imoen asked shakily.

When she was done, there was a silence.
Aran opened his mouth to talk, and then saw the hostile glares. Realization broke.

?Oh come on!? he protested. ?Do you think I would have let this go through? Don?t you trust me??

?How did it get through, then?? Cyreth asked, her eyes still blazing with an inner fire. ?Look??
She threw him the note Iraend and Jalik had carried, and his eyes widened even more.

?How..??

?Precisely what we?re trying to find out,? Aerie spoke up suddenly; uncharacteristically. ?Look, Aran, we?ve been friends for a long time because of what we did with Bodhi and all. But we?ve lost contact for a year. Can you blame us for being suspicious??

?You?ve grown bolder, my lady,? smiled Aran wearily.

?You?ve grown colder, Aran,? Jaheira noted. ?I don?t know what?s happened to you, but you?re different.?

?His father died,? Dirk explained, glancing up at Aran for a second, and then looking down at Minsc again. ?There. I told you it?d wear off in five minutes or so,?
Aran froze, Cyreth cursed under her breath.


?Who is this? boy with you?? he asked Cyreth pointedly. ?I do not recognize him from last time.?

?For your information, I?m 24,? Dirk interrupted mildly. ?So that doesn?t really make me a boy, does it? Considering that you don?t look that old yourself.?

?Thanks for the compliment,? Aran said through gritted teeth.

?I?m so sorry, Aran,? Imoen impulsively hugged the startled thief.

Aran gently pushed her away. ?Thanks, Imoen.?

?How did he die?? asked Jaheira quietly, sympathetically.

?He was struck down by a strange illness two years ago, just before we met. I was working in his stead, then. He died three days ago.?

He exhaled. ?Risaan asked me to let him examine the body. He said he had his suspicions.?

?And?? Imoen prompted.

?He was right,? Aran replied coldly. ?Someone had had him under an enchantment, slowly draining away his strength until he wasted away.?

"WHAT?!" Cyreth yelled.

"Hey, calm down sis," Imoen exclaimed. "I think you're overreacting a bit, hey?"

But Cyreth was not listening. "Who in all of Faerun, or even in the whole of Abeir-Toril has that sort of power? To keep a man alive for two years while killing him at the same time?"

"It would take extraordinary amounts of magicka," agreed Jaheira worriedly.

"At this point, I honestly don't give a damn," Aran's eyes glowed softly. "But whoever did it is going to pay!"


Aran paced the room agitatedly, while Imoen and Cyreth quietly sat, waiting. Cyreth felt strange having only Imoen besides her. The others had been taken to Shadow Thief quarters to investigate with Aran's full permission.

He finally broke the silence. "I have no leads. Risaan could not trace the magic. I have no idea what's happening! And now two assignments have somehow gotten past me. Trust me, I would never have let those assignments through!"

"You've said that about twenty times, now, Aran," Cyreth sighed. "We get the point."

"Actually, he said it twenty-three times," Imoen informed her seriously. "I was counting."

"Close enough, you know? Anyway, Aran, we believe you now. We trust you."

"Thanks," Aran exhaled. "You don't know how much that means to me."

"Aw, poor Aran," Imoen grinned roguishly, yet compassionately. "You've been so stressed."

"Hell yeah," muttered Aran. "I've had so many assassination attempts thrown at me these last three days I'm jumping at shadows."

"Don't you usually get assassination attempts though?" queried Cyreth.

"Been getting them since I was born," Aran told her abruptly. "That's one of the problems of being the son of a leader of the Shadow Thieves."

"But didn't you have to prove yourself worthy to become a leader?"

"Of course. I got through all that crap easy enough."

"Language," chided Imoen jokingly.

"I'll remember that, mummy dear," Aran smiled tiredly.

"Anyway, getting back on topic?" prompted Cyreth.

"Oh yes. Sorry. I've been getting assassination attempts as per normal, but I've had about forty the last two days. I don't know why! And I can't pinpoint the assassins because when you stick a knife through them, they vanish."

"Vanish?" Cyreth asked incredulously.

"Just gone, like a puff of wind."

"Why does that remind me of vampires?"

"I couldn't tell if they were vampires or not, because they had these damn hoods and cloaks on... but on second thoughts..."

"Not vampire trouble again!" groaned Cyreth.

"It wasn't this bad even when Bodhi was around," Aran muttered. "And what's bothering me, is that there was one just as I left my father's room when he died. As if someone had staged it."

"That doesn't sound that promising," Imoen noted.

"Do you reckon these two events are tied?" asked Cyreth suddenly.

"What do you mean?"

"Well look at this. About three days ago, we broke out of the jail we told you about. And on the same day, Iraend and Jalik paid a visit. And three days ago, your father died and the assassination attempts started happening. And let's have a look..."

Cyreth pulled out the two nearly identical assignments. Then she looked at the dates and swore.

"And these two notes were dated exactly three days ago!"

Aran's face grew tighter. "Too much of a coincidence."

"Too much of a coincidence indeed," Cyreth brooded.

"Far too much of a coincidence..."

"Well, why don't you guys just say it out loud?" asked Imoen.

"What do you mean?"

"Just say it. Stop going on about that coincidence thing. Just say it!"

"Say what?"

Imoen rolled her eyes. "It's simple. Someone's been planning to kill us all for two years.


?Wonderful,? Dirk said matter-of-factly. ?This is great.?

?Are you being sarcastic, boy?? the rogue raised an eyebrow eloquently.

?Are you threatening Dirk?? Minsc demanded dangerously.

?You know, I think he just might be threatening all of us,? Aerie snapped sarcastically, fear etching her voice.

?Yes,? agreed Jaheira scathingly. ?Did the fact that we all have knives at our throats elude you, Minsc??


?You?ve got a gift, you know,? Cyreth commented after the long silence.

?Was that a compliment, sis? Wow.?

?Shut up. Anyway, you know what I mean. Just this gift of saying exactly what other people either aren?t brave enough to say, or too dull to realize.?

?Geez, sis! Great! You complimented me!?

?Oh knock it off, Im,? Cyreth groaned. ?If you act like this every time I compliment you, I might just stop!?

Imoen pouted.

Aran laughed; the first time he?d laughed since he?d seen Imoen and Cyreth leave Athkatla a year ago. ?Are you sure that?s a gift, Cyreth?? he grinned. ?I was thinking it might be a curse? for those around her.?

?Well, thanks,? Imoen sounded affronted.

?Heh, just kidding, Immy.?

Cyreth turned her head politely, waiting for the resounding slap that she was sure that was going to echo throughout Aran?s private room, but it never came. She opened her eyes and stared.
Aran?s collar was now in Imoen?s hands, and she was scowling. Since Aran and Imoen had been on opposite sides of his desk, when Imoen had grabbed Aran?s collar, she had subsequently pulled him halfway across the table.
Cyreth would have laughed if she hadn?t known that she would suffer the same fate as Aran if she did. But luckily for her, she had been around Imoen long enough to know the small things that irritated her.

?No-one calls me Immy,? Imoen?s eyes bore straight through his own startled blue irises. Then she threw a quick grin over her shoulder at her older sister. ?Except for family.?

?Point taken,? Aran managed to croak out.

?Good,? Imoen released him.

The only reason Aran hadn?t fallen off his desk in his position was because Imoen was gripping his collar? quite hard. Now, since her hold was released, there was nothing stopping gravity.
Both Cyreth and Imoen burst out laughing as Aran pulled himself up, muttering under his breath.

?Small bits of metal are no match for Minsc, Boo, and Gram!? declared Minsc.

?Hold still,? one of the three rogues needed to hold him down hissed.

?Minsc, don?t move,? Dirk murmured quietly.

The thief holding him jerked his brown hair up even more, pressing the blade deeper into his skin, drawing a thin thread of blood. ?So? you have some sense after all, boy,? he murmured as he brought the dagger away.

?Dirk!? cried Aerie, trying vainly to struggle out of the grasp of the single rogue it took to hold her. But her strength was no match for the steely brute force of the rogue. He only laughed.

?Don?t move, any one of you,? Dirk reiterated, ignoring the trickle of blood running down his skin. ?They?re rogues? they won?t hesitate to cut our throats...?

?How well you know us,? leered another, who held Jaheira?s arms behind her back. ?One would think you used to be one of us.?

?I have no idea,? Dirk brushed off. ?But you never really let me finish. You wouldn?t hesitate to cut our throats if you weren?t under orders not to do so.?

?What would you know, boy?? smirked the rogue.

?Because you were ordered specifically to ?render us unconscious.? Which means, of course, that we must be alive.?

?How do you know?!? demanded one of the younger ones incredulously.

?What?s your name?? questioned Dirk.

?Philyp,? he replied.

?Well, let me just quote the assignment you received.

Philyp, this is probably your biggest assignment ever, and I do not advise you to fail. The godchild and her party will come to the Stronghold. Capture them. When they have been rendered unconscious, you will receive further orders.

Does that sound familiar??

Edited by Shadowhawke, 21 May 2004 - 03:55 PM.

[Shadowhawke]

?That was a perfectly good shirt,? Aran complained as he examined his collar.

?Hey, it?s not as if I tore it or anything,? Imoen protested.

?You?ve creased it quite badly, though,? Cyreth pointed out.

?Nothing a good iron can?t fix,? Imoen shrugged.

?Anyway,? Cyreth cleared her throat. ?Getting back on topic, what are we going to do??

?If these things are connected?? started Imoen, before being interrupted by Aran.

?Haven?t we already agreed that it?s too much of a coincidence??

?Alright. Fine. Everything?s connected then. Well, if everything?s connected, we can take two paths.?

?Is it just me or are you sounding like some sort of professor or something?? Cyreth asked, arching an eyebrow.

?Quit teasing me, sis??

?Oh, that?s fair, isn?t it? You can tease me, but I can?t tease you??

?Okay. New rule. We?re not allowed to tease when things get serious.?

Both Aran and Cyreth stared.

?Did I hear right? The word ?serious? came out of your mouth, not mine??

?Oh quit it, you two!?

?Alright, we?re sorry,? Aran apologized contritely. ?Go on, we need your advice.?

?I?ll let the sarcasm pass for now,? muttered Imoen. ?But anyway, look. We can either investigate our leads, or Aran?s leads. If we really want to, we can split up and investigate both. After all, if they?re connected, we?ll end up at the same place.?


?Thanks for that irrefutable piece of logic, Immy,? grinned Cyreth, sliding a sidelong glance at the master thief.

?No need to rub my face in it, Cyreth,? Aran muttered.

?What??

?Never mind.?

?But anyway, if that?s the case, what should we do??

?What is there to do?? Aran fumed, his helplessness taking over him at last. ?We?ve got no leads. Nothing at all.?

?Geez, now I?m stuck with TWO pessimistic weirdoes,? moaned Imoen.

?Cheer up,? grinned Cyreth. ?It gets better.?


?By all the gods!? one of the older ones swore.

?Believe us now??

?What do we do?? cried a thief, letting his hands slump to his side. ?If they know we can?t kill them??

?Shut your gob!? snapped the one holding Dirk.

?If you?d kindly let us go??

?I think not, boy,? he pressed the blade into Dirk?s throat again. ?How many times must I nick you??

?None at all. After all, your assignment never stated that you ?must? nick me, did it??

?Shut up if you value your life!?

Dirk wisely did as he said so.

?Good,? he said ominously.

?What? what are you going to do then?? stuttered Aerie.

?We?ll render you unconscious, all right,? the one holding her leered. ?We?ll slit your pretty throats!?


?So far, we haven?t got that many leads on our side except for these two notes,? Cyreth shoved them back into her pocket. ?But you, however, will probably have another assassination attempt made on you soon, right??

?Probably,? snorted Aran. ?I?m getting damn tired of them, though.?

?That?s going to be our first lead, so you better not get tired of them too soon.?

?What?s that supposed to mean?? Aran asked suspiciously.

?What my dear sister?s trying to say as nicely as possible, is that we?re going to use you as bait,? Imoen explained sweetly.

?Thanks,? Aran said dryly.

?That?s all?? Cyreth looked mildly surprised. ?I thought you would have been a little more? angry than that.?

?Why should I be angry?? Aran shrugged. ?I?m used to being used as a bait.?

?Really??

?When you?re the guildmaster?s son, you get used to anything.?

?I see.?

?So what?s your plan??

?We do need some info before we can plan. Unless you just want us to take it as it comes??

?Point taken,? Aran sighed. ?What do you want to know??

?These assassination attempts? in what kind of circumstances do they happen??

?In about all circumstances, so far.?

?What do you mean? They attack you everywhere??

?Well, if I?m alone for more than two minutes, they attack me immediately. If I have only one bodyguard along, they?ll attack me. But if I?m in a room with more than one other person in there with me, they won?t.?

?A pattern, then. How have you slept for the last three days??

?I haven?t slept at all,? Aran told her matter-of-factly.

?What?!? Cyreth stared at him incredulously. ?How can you not sleep for three days?!?

?I?m a thief,? Aran shrugged, a small hint of his former roguish grin spreading across his face.

?That explains it?? asked Cyreth, puzzled.

Imoen sighed. ?Trust me sis, that explains it all.?

?Whatever. So we?re going to take you for a little walk sometime and wait for an assassination attempt.?

?Oh great,? grumbled Aran. ?I?m advertising myself as vampire fodder.?

?By the sounds of it, every time you were alone for the past three days you were advertising yourself as vampire fodder.?

?I always kept a blade handy, though.?

?I see?? Cyreth started.

?Just a blade?? interrupted Imoen, an eyebrow arching elegantly.

?Fine. Two daggers,? evaded Aran.

?Just two daggers??

?Fine. Two daggers and a stiletto.?

?Just two daggers and a stiletto??

Aran let out an explosive sigh. ?Fine. Three daggers, six stilettos, a long sword, five short swords, and four garrotes.?

Cyreth?s jaw dropped, Imoen just smiled satisfactorily.

?How did you carry all that around?? Cyreth exclaimed.

?It?s not that difficult,? Aran shrugged modestly.

?But did you carry them in plain sight, or what??

?Of course not,? Aran looked injured. ?I?m a thief.?

?Why is that your explanation to everything??

?Because it just about explains everything that I usually need to explain.?

?Me too,? grinned Imoen.

Cyreth sighed. ?I?m surrounded by thieves.?

?Hey,? kidded Imoen, nudging her in the ribs. ?It?s not that bad.?

?You know, I wonder if Jaheira and the others have found anything yet,? commented Aran.

?Let?s check.?

As the thieves began the motion which would end their lives, Dirk interrupted them.

"You're going against orders, you know."

"We can always resurrect you when our employers want us to."

"Resurrection doesn't work all the time, though!" Jaheira objected.

"Well that's your problem, isn't it?"

But Dirk interrupted him again.

?Do you really want to do this?? he asked them.

?Of course we really want to do this,? the thief snarled. ?It?ll shut you up, for one thing.?

?But do you really want to shut me up??

?Excuse me while I cut your throat,? the thief growled, ignoring him.

?That wouldn?t be a very good idea, see??

?And why not? It seems like an awfully good idea to me.?

?Because it would ? be so much easier to utilize your forty muscles instead of your two single ones ? . In that way you could use up your energy more conservatively, giving you better REM at night??

The rogue looked around at his mates bewilderedly. Jaheira, Aerie and Minsc stared at Dirk as if he'd gone mad.

?What the hell?? exclaimed one of the thieves.

?And then you would end up gaining more energy as a whole? . So it really would be a good idea to??

?What are you rambling on about?? demanded the thief.

Dirk ignored him. ?Utilize those forty muscles ? not just those two muscles ? because then you would ? gain more energy ? giving you more and more ? time to ??

?Hold on!? cried the thief. ?He?s casting a spell when he pauses??

But it was too late. Bolts of lightning spread out from his fingertips to engulf all of the thieves. They fell shrieking to the ground, steam curling up from their clothes. Their knives fell clattering besides them.
Cyreth, Imoen and Aran burst through the door, and then froze at the sight that greeted them.
Seven Shadow Thieves lay sprawled on the ground, coughing, sparks of electricity wreathing them as they moved. Dirk stood frozen, still in his spell-casting position, the blood on his throat gradually drying. Jaheira, Aerie and Minsc were still staring at Dirk as if he came from outer space.

?Well,? Cyreth cleared her throat. ?Looks like you?ve all been busy.?

Edited by Shadowhawke, 21 May 2004 - 03:57 PM.

[Shadowhawke]

?They told us that they had some information on strange happenings, here. Said they couldn?t talk about it in public. So they took us to this room and when we walked in the door? I think you can probably guess the rest.?

?Just tell us,? Imoen said. ?It?ll save us the trouble of guessing.?

?Well, they were going to force us to drink something that I think would have made us fall asleep when Dirk started irritating them,? Jaheira smiled slightly, despite herself.

?Dirk, irritating? Why do those two words not fit??

Cyreth rolled her eyes. ?Trust me, Immy. He can be extraordinarily irritating.?

Aran muttered something incomprehensible in the background.

?Thanks,? Dirk looked injured. ?But me being irritating did save our lives!?

?True,? admitted Jaheira.

?Thanks, Dirk,? Aerie said tremblingly. ?Baervar? I was afraid they?d slit your throat.?

?Yes,? agreed Minsc. ?Boo was afraid that you were annoying them so much they?d kill you.?

?This is sounding interesting,? Aran remarked. ?Why don?t you tell us the whole story in my office??

The thieves that were peering inquiringly at them immediately took the hint and returned to whatever they were doing.


?Well?? inquired Imoen as soon as they had sunk into the moderately luxurious couches in Aran?s office.

?Well, Dirk started quoting the assignments they had received, emphasizing the fact that they really couldn?t kill us if we didn?t drink because we were supposed to be ?rendered unconscious.? So they fell to a bit of arguing, and then one fellow too dull for his own good suggested that they could kill us and resurrect us later.?

?He didn?t know anything about resurrecting,? protested Aerie. ?He didn?t even care that it mightn?t even work because of our constitution.?

?Thieves are like that, sometimes,? Cyreth grinned. ?A bit thick.?


When Dirk, Jaheira and Minsc had succeeded in pulling Imoen and Aran off Cyreth, they were all gasping.

?Anyway,? Imoen gave Cyreth a hard look as she sat back down. ?What happened??

?They were going to kill us when Dirk started rambling on about something none of us understood, but every time he paused, he was casting Chain Lightning,? Aerie looked at him in admiration.

?That was clever,? noted Aran. ?But just how much damage did you do to them? I?m going to have to pay them for this, because it?s indirectly my fault.?

?Sorry,? Dirk apologized. ?But I didn?t know you were going to be coming so soon, so I had to do something.?

?Don?t be sorry. Just tell me how much damage did you do to them??

?They?ll live with proper function of all of their assorted body parts,? Dirk assured him. ?They?re just a little burnt.?

?I appreciate you not killing them outright,? Aran nodded.

?I probably couldn?t kill them outright if I?d for some strange, abstract reason wanted to. I?m not that advanced a mage.?

?You can cast Chain Lightning, and that?s a sixth level spell, though. And the fact you managed to mutter it under your breath while speaking out loudly is quite a feat.?

?Thanks, but I don?t know anything above sixth level.?

?Oh. I see.?

?Are you a bard?? Cyreth asked speculatively. ?After all, if you can only cast magic up to sixth level and you can dual-wield those two swords, I think you probably are.?

?I think? I might? Dammit!?

?What?s this?? Aran queried.

?I?ve got total amnesia. I only have the memory of today, yesterday, and the day before that,? Dirk told him abruptly.

?Oh,? Aran winced. ?I?m sorry. I didn?t know. I know what it?s like to be amnesiac.?

?Really?? asked Imoen curiously. ?How??

?I got knocked on the head? several times. I didn?t know who I was for about half a year, and then I started getting flashbacks until I?d regained all my memory.?

?Why were you getting knocked on the head?? asked Imoen mischievously.

Aran gave a pained cough.

?Okay, enough of that,? Jaheira said brusquely. ?What are we going to do now? Enemies, it seems, seek us at every corner.?

?Boo and I vote that we kick down all the corners so we can see what?s coming!?

?That would be a great idea if you told us how, Minsc,? laughed Cyreth.

?Hey, don?t tell me you?ve forgotten everything I was talking about!? Imoen exclaimed.

?Oh, sorry sis. Slipped my mind.?

?What is this plan?? questioned Jaheira.

?Well, I was thinking that we could investigate Aran?s leads or ours. Because we don?t have much of a lead except for all the notes, I was thinking we should follow Aran?s.?

?We?re actually planning to use me as a bait. Because I?ve been getting all these assassination attempts, we were thinking that we need to capture one of my attackers and question them,? Aran informed her.

?You would let us do that?? asked Aerie, wide-eyed. ?You might get killed!?

?I haven?t been killed the last forty or so times, so if I?ve gotten this far, I?ll survive a few more.?

?Oh, and another thing. We think that Aran?s attackers could be vampires.?

Minsc let out a bellow of rage. Aerie shrank back. Jaheira looked livid.
?Minsc and Boo shall seek out every last one of these vampires and destroy them! Let evil quake as they hear our footsteps! Let the vampires that dare to attack our friend Aran be??

?Minsc, calm yourself!? interjected Jaheira curtly.

?Not vampires again,? moaned Aerie. ?They? they are enemies of the Avariel. She? Bodhi??

Aerie gulped. ?Once when we were facing her, she leered at me and said that Avariel blood tastes best??

She broke off into tears, and Cyreth and Imoen moved to give her a hug simultaneously.

?I must say that I dislike them too,? muttered Jaheira. ?Cursed bloodsuckers. They are an affront to nature.?

?I don?t like them either,? Aran agreed. ?And I?m sure all of you will be pleased to know I?ve killed about forty of them from each assassination attempt.?

?No,? Cyreth shook her head. ?You haven?t killed them, Aran. You?ve just destroyed their physical form. It?s probably been the same one going after you every time.?

Aran?s jaw dropped. ?What??

?You didn?t kill them, Aran,? Imoen patted him on the back. ?You just made them go back to their coffins. Then, after a few hours or so, they can come back again.?

Aran exhaled loudly, and then slapped his palm to his forehead. ?Damn! How could I have been so stupid? I?ve forgotten you need stakes...?

?Sorry to disillusion you,? Cyreth apologized.

?Doesn?t matter. I?m just really irritated now??

?Sorry,? Cyreth apologized again.

?Don?t be,? Aran brushed off. Then his eyes lit up speculatively. ?I?ve still got a few stakes from last time.?

?We might need them. Well, then, what should we do??

?Hang on a second,? Dirk interrupted. ?When do they attack you??

?Whenever I?m alone or I?ve got only one person with me. Why??

?Do they attack you in the daytime as well??

The odd intensity in his voice made Aran hesitate. ?Yes. Why??

?Vampires? or at least normal vampires can?t venture anywhere outside in the daytime. Are you sure they were vampires??

?Nothing else disappears into a puff of smoke that runs away from you when you drive a blade into their heart. I?m quite sure.?

?Well then, it looks like we?ve got mutated or more powerful vampires on our hands,? Dirk sighed, and leant back into the soft expanses of the couch,

?You?ve fought quite a few vampires,? Cyreth nodded at Aran. ?Were these more powerful??

?I can?t really say,? Aran replied. ?But? I do get the feeling that they actually weren?t trying to kill me.?

?What do you mean??

?Several times I slipped and left them openings. They could have killed me in an instant.?

?Aran,? scolded Imoen. ?Sloppy fighting? Shame on you!?

?It?s quite hard when there?s three of them on you at the same time,? Aran shrugged mildly.

Imoen?s face fell. ?Oh, sorry. I didn?t know.?

?That?s okay, Imoen,? Aran grinned. ?Just put a smile back on that face. It makes you look extraordinarily beautiful,?

?Are you flirting with me, Aran?? demanded Imoen.

Jaheira coughed. ?So what are we going to do if these really are mutant vampires? How do you question a vampire that is trying to kill you??

?We?ll get to that when it happens,? shrugged Cyreth.

?Great,? Aran muttered dryly. ?Did it cross your mind that I?ll be dead if we make one wrong move??

?Well, if you?ve beaten them so far, shouldn?t you be able to kill them??

?Depends on how many there are,? Aran said lightly. ?If there are more than two I might start having a difficult time.?

?Minsc and Boo can wipe them out!?

?But we don?t want to wipe them out, Minsc. We want to question them.?

They haggled on about the plan far into the night. When weariness descended and the plan was finalized, Aran showed them some of the spare thief quarters.

?I think I?ll sleep with you lot, tonight,? Aran yawned. ?I?m not risking sleeping by myself, but I think I need some rest.?

Aerie looked worriedly at the thief. ?Aran, you look exhausted.?

?I do need to catch up on three days of sleep, after all.?

?Three days?? exclaimed Aerie.

Aran groaned. ?But tonight, it feels more like three years.?

?Minsc and Boo will guard you! No vampire can harm you while Boo is around, he?ll make sure!?

?Thanks, but perhaps??

?I?ll sleep in the same room as well,? interjected Jaheira. ?Minsc might need some help.?

?You forgot Boo!!?

?I?m sorry, Minsc? and Boo.?

?Well, goodnight, then.?

But as they headed off to their respective rooms, Cyreth stopped Dirk.

?Something?s been nagging me all night. Aerie said that you were rambling about something nobody understood,? grinned Cyreth. ?What were you talking about??

?How about I give you a reenactment of it in my room??

?Sure,? Cyreth agreed.


Both Cyreth and Dirk were laughing by the time he was done. ?What were you talking about??

?I was actually saying in a funny that perhaps we should talk this over. You see, moving the mouth takes forty muscles. Cutting our throats takes two. Then I actually have no idea what I was saying after that. I was just saying anything that came to my head.?

?It showed,? chuckled Cyreth. ?That was very clever!?

?Thanks,? Dirk blushed.

There was a short silence.

?You know, I was really worried when we found out that a group of thieves had taken you lot. I feared the worst.?

?To tell the truth, I was quite worried myself,? laughed Dirk softly.

?I thought we were too late and you?d be dead or something.? Cyreth closed her eyes. ?I think I would have killed myself if I?d found out you guys were dead.?

?You would have killed yourself? Truly? Not just a figure of speech?? asked Dirk, wide-eyed.

?I couldn?t stand to be responsible for your deaths,? Cyreth whispered, her eyes still closed.

?Well, we?re not dead,? Dirk smiled.

?I?m glad,? Cyreth said honestly. Then she started. ?Imoen! I didn?t tell her I was in here with you!?

?Goodnight, then.?

?Goodnight.?



?Well where have you been?? Imoen demanded as soon as Cyreth stepped through the door.

?I?ve been talking with Dirk,? Cyreth shrugged, slipping in between the covers of the bed.

?Only talking?? Imoen grinned roguishly.

?Oh shut up,? Cyreth groaned. "It's too late for this."

Imoen laughed wickedly. ?Come on, sis. Admit it! You fancy him!?

?What in Faerun gave you THAT idea??

?Oh come on, sis! It?s so obvious!?

?Obvious? Immy, you?ve got some strange conception of obvious! It?s nonexistent!?

?Sure, sure, Cyreth,? smirked Imoen. ?Why did you spend two hours in his room, then??

?Two hours?!? Cyreth sat bolt upright, knocking her head on the bunk above her.

Imoen dissolved into fits of laughing. ?Time passes quickly when you?re in love.?

Cyreth?s look became pained. ?That?s the first line of one of the songs I composed for Jaheira and Khalid.?

?Yeah, I know. But that just proves you right, doesn?t it??

?What would you know about being in love, Immy?? asked Cyreth mischievously. ?Oh. I get it. Sorry for being thick. Can I be the bridesmaid??

?What?!?

It was Cyreth?s turn to laugh wickedly.

?Come on, sis,? she grinned. ?You and Aran are as transparent as glass.?

?Me and Aran?!? half squealed Imoen. ?Are you serious??

?You seem to be.?

?Okay,? Imoen exhaled. ?You don?t tease me about Aran, I won?t tease you about Dirk.?

?There! You admitted it! You?re in love with him!?

?I never said that??

?Well, I?m happy for you, sis,? Cyreth cut her off neatly. ?He?s a great guy. You?re just going to have to make sure he survives these vampire attacks if you want to marry him.?

Imoen whacked her head with the palm of her hand. ?Dammit! I was going to memorize some spells for tomorrow!?

?There?ll be time for that if you stop teasing me about Dirk,? grinned Cyreth.

Imoen didn?t deign to reply.


Aran glared at Cyreth, hidden in the shadows of a nearby room. This whole whistling thing was totally out of proportion.
He wet his lips again, and kept whistling, attempting to blow out a tune that Cyreth had taught him that morning.

This wasn't totally out of proportion, he finally decided after about five minutes. This was insane. If any of his thieves disobeyed orders and entered this part of the thief guild today, his reputation as the deadly master thief would be ruined. And replaced by one of a whistling idiot.
Aran was about to give up this whole idea of whistling innocently when his trusty sixth sense warned him, and he ducked aside.


Black talons descended down on him again, missing him by mere centimeters. Shadows virtually leapt into his hand as he parried the next slash.
Three hooded figures. Three mutated vampires. He smiled grimly. This time would be different. Hopefully, this time he would be able to get the answers he burned to recieve.
However, he couldn't help but throw a look over his shoulder at where Cyreth and the others were hiding. Where were they? They had agreed to come almost as soon as the vampires had appeared.

His fears soon were unfounded as the six boiled out of their hiding places silently, descending on the vampires with steel and magic.
But they were the ones surprised.


As they attacked, it soon became apparent that they had underestimated their enemy. The three vampires had obviously been holding back. Now, they leapt on all seven of them, snarling and clawing, and they found themselves desperately fighting for their lives.


One of the vampires threw off her hood. Entrancing steel eyes were framed by soft midnight hair. She was startlingly beautiful, yet there was an evil about that beauty, for anyone who fell prey to it would get nothing but death.
?An Avariel,? she laughed. ?An Avariel with no wings! And a war hammer and flail! Stick to the magic arts, little Avariel! You are no fighter.?

?Is that so, vampire?? spat Aerie; swinging down Crom Faeyr with all of the magical strength the hammer gifted her.

The vampire soaked in the blow carelessly, and swung her own claws to almost cut Aerie in two.
?Yes, that is so, Avariel,? she smirked.


Jaheira cursed as the vampire leapt at her. ?Damn you,? she swore as a talon laid open a wound on her arm. ?You have outlived your natural life for too long!?

?Oh really, druidess?? the vampire asked sibilantly.

?Yes really,? Imoen said angrily, trying to cast a Flame Arrow once more, and failing once again as the vampire snarled and dug her claws into the air where she had been.

?Imoen, be careful!? yelled Aran, Shadows flickering in his hands as he deflected the vampire?s deadly razors.

?You be careful yourself!? retorted Imoen as she blocked a blow aimed at Aran.

?Fine,? laughed Aran. ?I will if you will!?

?Deal!?

?Be serious, you two,? Jaheira scolded, her voice shaking as she tried to push back the vampire?s claws.

?We?ll be serious, Jaheira!? grinned Aran.

?Yeah, when Melissan pays a call,? chuckled Imoen.


Sweat beaded slowly on Cyreth?s face as she launched herself back into Offensive Spin desperately. Angurdval and Celestial Fury rained down on the vampire in front of her in a deadly storm. A deadly storm that seemed to take no effect.
She threw herself backwards with a curse as the vampire?s claws came out to strike deep into her own skin. Angrily, she parried the throw; annoyed that she had been caught off guard, and annoyed that they had been surprised. The plan seemed doomed. How could they subdue the vampires enough to question them when they were fighting for their lives?

She had no time to further rage on their plight when the vampire pounced, her talons scrabbling on the fire of Angurdval and Celestial Fury. Face to face, Cyreth strained desperately to push him back.
The vampire leered at her pitiful efforts, and then slowly, tauntingly slid his fangs closer and closer to her exposed neck.


Minsc went into a Greater Whirlwind Attack, Gram swinging down so quickly that Aerie, who was fighting next to him, couldn?t see the blade itself. A silvery blur was all that her elven eyes could make out.

?Do? not? insult? Aerie!? roared Minsc.

?Or what?? asked the vampire silkily.

Gram found its mark yet again, but this time there was a difference. The vampire stiffened, and started to jerk wildly.

?Or that!? yelled Minsc triumphantly. ?Minsc and Boo always win!?

?Not this time,? she disagreed icily, as she recovered from the poison.

Aerie?s jaw dropped. ?You?re? you?re regenerative!?


Dirk's magic missile shot from his fingertips just as Cyreth threw the vampire off her. With a howl, the vampire lunged back at her, teeth snapping together with an ominous clack.
Cyreth froze as she heard Aerie?s exclamation and then cursed. This was wonderful. She had no idea how these vampires had become so powerful, and she didn?t really care at the moment.
Great. They can fight abnormally well. They have regenerative abilities. They can survive the sun. And while they?re trying to kill us; we can?t afford to kill them! Unless...


?What are you doing?? whispered Dirk from besides her.

?We only need to keep one alive,? Cyreth explained through gritted teeth. ?We can destroy the other two.?

?I?ve got a better idea.?

?What??

But Dirk didn?t reply. A small spark of magic started glowing in his hands.
The vampire saw the spark, and lunged. The spell dissipated as he dodged, the deadly claws swooping centimeters from his face.

?Keep him off me!? he yelled, no longer bothering to try and make sure the vampires didn?t hear him.

?I?ll try,? returned Cyreth desperately.

The vampire bared his fangs. ?You?ll try,? he hissed. ?But you won?t succeed!?

?Watch me,? grinned Cyreth.

Dirk tried to cast his spell again, but this time, Jaheira, Aran and Imoen?s vampire lunged for him. The spell fizzled into nothingness again.


Imoen lunged in with her staff, not bothering to try and cast a spell again. One of the three vampires would only disrupt it, she knew. So far, the only spell that had been cast sucessfully was Dirk's Magic Missile, and even then that hadn't really done anything.
The Staff of the Magi hit the vampire with a solid thwack, yet she had piled too much of her Hill Giant strength behind it. The vampire reached for the kill as Imoen stumbled forwards.


?Imoen!? Aran cried.

He leapt for her, Shadows extending upwards, trying to push Imoen away from the falling claw. But he stumbled and fell on the uneven wooden floor.
A small flash of metal sparkled in the vampire?s hand.
Without hesitation, the vampire drove the blade into Aran?s shoulder.

Aran?s scream was unimaginable. As whatever arcane magic the small blade held dribbled down into his body, he threw himself off the blade. Tottering back weakly, he landed on the floor heavily, convulsing wildly as the poison took its hold.

?Aran!? cried Imoen wildly, running to his side, dropping her staff.


Aran.
Aran.
Aran.
Not another.
She would not let another die because of her.


Aerie would later say that she was more scared of her than she was of the vampires at that moment. Jaheira would say that she hoped to high heaven that she would never see such a sight again. Imoen would look at her grimly, and then lose her seriousness and hug her. Aran would say that even through his agony he heard her screams. Minsc would say approvingly that she would make a warrior yet.

Dirk would say that she had gone berserk.


Cyreth took one look at Aran writhing on the ground, and a strange red rage gripped her. She was bleeding profusely from the vampire?s attacks, but she didn?t care. She didn?t even realize that the blood that spattered the floor was hers.
A small part of her tried to overmaster the rage that was Bhaal?s gift to her. A small part of her tried to bring her back to her senses.

But the rest of her overruled that part.

Blood obscured her vision in a hazy mist. She heard wild screams, and only later realized they were her own. Angurdval and Celestial Fury moved faster than the eye could follow. Every hit bit deep into cold blue flesh. Every hit seared the vampires? dead hearts as her own fire and lighting added to the fire and lightning of her swords.
Burning? burning? burning?


?Cyreth!? Dirk?s voice shook. ?Cyreth! Please wake up!?

Cyreth looked hazily up. She could just make out the two dead vampires. One was frozen in mid-attack, yellow magic licking around her.

?Cyreth, are you okay? Aerie had to cast Hold on you after you killed the second one. I managed to cast my Hold Undead, and now Aerie?s spell has worn off.?

?I?m fine, I think?? Cyreth felt tears run down her face as she squeezed her eyes shut. She had not let a rage like this overcome her for more than two years. She had not let Bhaal?s gift rule her. But it had come back. She was disgusted at her lack of control.

A gentle hand wiped away her tears. She opened her eyes and saw Dirk looking down at her. ?I?m sorry, Cyreth, but Imoen said something about Aran needing you.?
It was only then that Cyreth realized that Aran was still screaming, only fainter, weaker. She pushed herself to her feet and ran over.


Imoen was crying. Jaheira was casting all her healing spells desperately on Aran. But they took no effect. He grew weaker and weaker even as Cyreth knelt down by his side.

?Cyreth!? wept Imoen. ?Cyreth, I need you!?

?What do you need me for, Imoen??

?Hold Jaheira and Aerie?s hands!?

Aerie and Jaheira grabbed Cyreth?s two hands, one kneeling on either side of her. ?What do we need to do??

?I?m not sure this is going to work!? a fresh flood of tears burst from Imoen.

?Well we?re going to damn try! Tell me what I need to do!?

?Your rage never really finished. You were interrupted when Aerie cast Hold on you. Can?t you? can?t you channel that rage into Aerie and Jaheira??

?What good would it do?? Cyreth demanded.

?I don?t know? I don?t understand?? sobbed Imoen. ?Just try!?


Cyreth closed her eyes and drew her consciousness inside her bloodstream, mingling her mind with her soul; binding her spirit with her body.
She searched for anger in that hidden place of hers; where she knew that her dead father still ruled. She felt her anger there. There was fury aplenty.
Warmth spread through her hands into Aerie and Jaheira. Simultaneously, they began casting Heal.
Cyreth felt the rage bubbling out of her, and as it was finally sucked out of her in one voracious sweep, she fainted.

Edited by Shadowhawke, 21 May 2004 - 04:01 PM.

[Shadowhawke]

I?ve really been doing this too much, Cyreth groaned as she woke up, her head protesting violently. I mean, it?s one thing to faint a few times, but really? I?m making a habit out of this!
She swung herself out of her bed, knocked herself on the upper bunk again, and quietly dressing, padded downstairs to Aran?s office, praying all the while that he was all right.

"Cyreth!?

?Where?s Aran?? Cyreth queried worriedly.

?He?s sleeping it off,? Aerie came from behind her. ?Whatever? filth that vampire had on that blade of hers is still taking its effect.?

?But he?s...??

?He?s fine,? Jaheira reassured her. ?He?s sleeping well.?

?I am? I didn?t notice it.?

All six whirled around. Aran was lounging casually on the door frame, a roguish grin spread across his face.

?Aran!? scolded Aerie. ?You need rest! What are you doing??

?Why, I?m coming to join you, my dear lady,? Aran swept a florid bow.

Jaheira turned to Aerie with a raised eyebrow. ?Just what was on that blade, Aerie? It seems to have affected his mind, somewhat.?

?Thanks?? Aran started, before he was stopped short by Cyreth.

?Aran,? Cyreth?s voice cracked. ?You had me so worried??

But she in turn was interrupted as a pink-haired whirlwind flew past her.

?Don?t you ever pull a stunt like that again!? yelled Imoen, slapping him hard across the face. ?Were you trying to get killed?"

"Well, no, but..."

Imoen ignored him, continuing on obliviously. "You almost yourself killed, you stupid idiot! Vampire fodder indeed! You were basically... You don?t need to??
She suddenly stopped and smiled sheepishly as she realized everyone was staring at her. Then she pulled the startled Aran into a fierce hug.
?Next time you want to get killed, all you have to do is ask me!? Imoen murmured into his shoulder. ?Just don?t try to kill yourself!?

Aran looked down at the lithe thief and pulled her closely to him.
?I?ll remember,? he whispered into her soft hair, breathing in her scent. ?Okay, I promise. I?ll remember.?


Imoen felt his muscles tense beneath her arms, and hugged him tighter. She had almost lost him. She would have been perfectly happy to go on hugging him for an eternity.
She remembered once in Candlekeep how Cyreth and her had made a bet. Whoever was the first one to fall in love would lose. There had been no money involved, but Imoen knew now that she had surely lost that bet, just as she had surely lost her heart.

Aran closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of Imoen pressing against him. All of his mere twenty-two years he had been called aloof. Cold. Uninterested in women. As Guildmaster's son, he could have had his pick of all of the women he could have desired. But he never had. He had never felt the fabled true love that the Bards sung of.
But now he did.


An awkward silence filled the room for a few minutes as the two held each other, encompassed in their own private world. Neither of them wanted to let go.
But then Jaheira cleared her throat and the moment was lost.
?The vampire we managed to capture is still there,? she gestured upstairs.

Dirk winced. ?Aerie, Imoen and I have had to take it in turns casting Hold Undead on her; the spell wears off every couple of minutes.?

?Lucky I memorized quite a few of those last night,? Imoen grinned lightly, pushing herself gently away from Aran?s embrace somewhat reluctantly.

?Yes. In fact, we?d probably better go up there right away and watch when it wears off.?

They trooped up the stairs, Cyreth staying behind to talk with Dirk.
?How long have I been asleep?? she asked.

?You?ve only had a few hours, actually,? Dirk informed her apologetically. ?I?m quite surprised you?ve managed to wake up, really. After all of that??

?I?ve had practice,? Cyreth smiled dryly.

?You?ve had these? rages before??

?The only gift remaining from my dear departed father,? Cyreth shrugged.

?I see,? Dirk nodded. Then he sighed.

?I read the guilt in you again. This rage is a part of you. Do not feel guilty by giving into it.?

?Dirk, you don?t understand. Every time I give into this rage, I prove that I am Bhaal?s child. That I will forever be the child that brings death and destruction to all she loves! It almost happened again this morning! Imagine if any of you had stepped within range. I might have killed you!?

Dirk shook his head. ?You wouldn?t have killed us, and you are far from the child that brings death and destruction to all she loves. You saved us, this morning. We would have been doomed if you hadn?t gone into that rage.?
He paused, and then went on. ?Aran would be dead.?

?But he wouldn?t have been in danger in the first place if I wasn?t alive. These attacks wouldn?t be happening!?

?But what if he is being attacked because of what he is? I?ll not deny that there is some connection, but Aran is not without enemies.?

?True,? Cyreth exhaled. ?But it was me who came up with the idea of using him as bait.?

?Stop blaming yourself, Cyreth,? Dirk sighed. ?No one else does. You?re torturing yourself needlessly. You saved us this morning, and you can?t refute that.?

?Thanks Dirk,? grinned Cyreth suddenly. ?For putting up with my self-centeredness and my pessimism.?

?You?re not that self-centered,? Dirk disagreed softly. ?In fact, I think you care so much about others that you forget about yourself.?

Cyreth was about to reply to this when Imoen called from above.

?Hey! Hurry up guys!?

?Sorry!? Cyreth called back. ?We?re coming up!?

Dirk and Cyreth ran the last couple of stairs to come face to face with the vampire in the center of the room again.
?So what?s the plan? How are we going to get her to talk and stop her from killing us at the same time?? demanded Cyreth.

?Do you remember my entangle spell, Cyreth?? Jaheira asked.

Cyreth groaned. ?How could I forget??
Memories of the last time Jaheira had used that spell flooded through her mind. It had ended disastrously, for Jaheira had forgotten to warn them that they too could be caught in the spell.

?Be nice,? Jaheira murmured absentmindedly as she began to cast the spell.

Her timing was impeccable. Just as the spell poured forth from Jaheira?s fingertips and trees and weeds began to entwine around the vampire, the Hold Undead spell wore off, and she leapt spitting and hissing at them. Only the power of Jaheira?s spell stopped her.

?No one step in within the range of the spell,? Jaheira warned. ?I won?t be able to get you out.?

?I?ll remember that,? Aran remarked lightly.

"I'll never forget that," Imoen grinned.

?Children of Bhaal,? the vampire rolled the words out from her mouth as if tasting them, ivory eyes centering on Cyreth and Imoen. ?To what do I owe this visit??

?Hmm, let?s see,? Imoen deadpanned. She started ticking things off on her fingers. ?You tried to kill Aran, you tried to kill us, you?re a vampire, we hate your guts??

?Imoen,? Jaheira reprimanded.

?You know very well why you?re here,? Cyreth stated calmly.

?But you don?t know,? sneered the vampire, her long fangs curling elegantly.

?Why have you been attacking Aran?!? demanded Imoen. ?Tell us or I?ll??

?Imoen, please,? Aran pleaded in a pained voice. ?I can talk for myself.?

Imoen descended into muttering.

?Okay, why have you and your vampiric cohorts been attacking me??

?Why do you think, master thief?? asked the vampire lazily.

?You tell me,? Aran commanded flatly.

?I have but one message,? murmured the vampire.

?Then tell us!? Minsc demanded.

The vampire watched them all through half-lidded eyes, moving her gaze from one to the other, finally settling on Cyreth.

?Syranthe sends her greetings, godchild,? she divulged, smiling maliciously. ?Seek your doom in the Order of the Radiant Heart.?

And with a last evil cackle, she plunged a dagger into her own heart and became an ethereal cloud again, floating off to her coffin.

?The Order of the Radiant Heart?? repeated Aran, stunned. ?That?s the last place I?d expect any of this devilry going on!?

?Times have changed, perhaps,? Jaheira commented grimly.

?Well let us go then! And wipe out the legions of evil!? Minsc cried.

?We have to be careful, Minsc,? Aerie shook her head. ?We can?t just barge in there. For all we know, the vampire could have been lying.?

?She wasn?t lying. We'll find something in the Order of the Radiant Heart... whatever that is,? Dirk disagreed.

Something in his eyes made Cyreth instinctively trust him. ?Alright. But I think that we should contact Keldorn first. He?ll know what?s going on, and if anything in the Radiant Heart has changed, it would be safer to go to him first.?

?Good old Keldorn,? sighed Aerie. ?We haven?t seen him for a long time.?

?We will soon, though.?

"I'll get Risaan and Gaelan to take command of the guild while I'm gone," remarked Aran offhandedly.

"You're coming with us?" Imoen asked, her eyes widening with joy.

"Of course," Aran grinned. "You'll probably get killed without me."

"Hardly likely," snorted Imoen, grinning. "We've survived for a long time without you around, Aran."

"And also because this is starting to interest me. If I stick around here, I'll just get more vampires thirsting for my blood."

"True enough," agreed Cyreth. "Welcome to the group."

"Thank you, my lady."

"What is with everyone calling me 'my lady' these days?" questioned Cyreth, irritated. "I would have thought this morning would have stopped ANYONE calling me that!"

"Instinctive," Aran and Dirk grinned simultaneously.

"Give up, sis," laughed Imoen. "You're outnumbered."

"Great."

?Syranthe knows you are here,? the vampire gloated, her eyes half closed.

?Correction, she will only know we are here if we don?t kill you first!? Dirk grated.

The vampire looked at him interestedly. ?Who is this??

?He is none of your concern,? growled Halren, leaping forth with his sword in hand.

?You cannot resist Syranthe for long,? the vampire taunted Halren as they attacked her. ?The Star Wolves grow weak as their power grows thinner!?

?Never,? snarled Dirk, effectively impaling the vampire with his blade.

?Follow her!? cried Halren, grabbing up as stake as the vampire?s ethereal form starting floating away.

They tracked her for a long time through the night, Dirk?s infravision proving to be near useless, for the vampire unsurprisingly had no body heat at all. At last they reached a small, enclosed tomb. The gaseous form passed through easily, but its pursuers could hardly do the same.

?Break it,? commanded Halren, gesturing at the lock.

?I am sorry, master. I can't,? Dirk replied, frustrated.

?This is no time for lessons, hey?? Halren looked amused, taking his own lock-pick and cracking the lock with relative ease.

The coffin stood in the center of the tomb. Without hesitation, Halren sank the stake in. The vampire disappeared, truly dead at last. Panting, Halren and Dirk stood silently in the tomb for a short while, before heading back.

"Master, what did she mean?"

"What?"

"What did she mean by the Star Wolves losing their power?"

"She's but a lowly vampire," spat Halren. "Don't listen to her. And don't call me master."

?Dirk?? Cyreth asked. She too had lingered behind, staring at the spot the vampire had occupied. Now, however, she was looking with concern at Dirk. He had that strange look on his face again, like he had after they had exited the Adventurer?s Mart.

Dirk shook himself out of his reverie. ?Sorry. I?m coming.?


[A note on this section. The first half or so is safe, but after that, there's a bit of violence. Any who don't like reading violence are welcome to skip. This is just a warning.]


Cyreth strode through the government district confidently, a light spring to her step. Just the thought that she was going to see Keldorn; dear old reliable Keldorn, was enough to make her slightly happier.
Imoen and Aran fell into step behind her, the pair eagerly discussing who knows what. With a wry laugh, Cyreth politely did not intrude, knowing now that her little sister was no longer hers and hers alone.
She brushed these thoughts aside with a sigh. Selfishness had often been one of her proven vices, and she disliked it. Instead, she enjoyed the Athkatla afternoon, wondering whether the sparrows that had nested in Keldorn?s roof two years ago were still there.
She remembered when the tiny eggs had cracked open just as she had released Keldorn from his long service, releasing him to finally be with his family.


When they at last reached the solid, comforting building, and Cyreth knocked, she was surprised when Maria answered... with no Keldorn by her side.

?Where?s Keldorn, Maria?? she inquired, puzzlement staining her voice.

?You can never keep him down,? Maria smiled wryly as she ushered them in. ?He?s been a lot better since you told him to spend more time with us, though.?

?Oh no. Is he back working with the Radiant Heart??

?No,? Maria looked troubled. ?The Radiant Heart has been acting strangely as of late.?

?As of late?? Aran pounced. ?How long ago??

?Four days,? Maria replied.

Aran took a deep breath and turned to Cyreth. ?Well, that just about clinches it.?

?I?ll say,? Imoen muttered. ?The Radiant Heart? It?s the last place I would think would be mixed up with this thing.?

Maria, who had looked from Aran, to Cyreth, to Imoen, to Dirk, and then back at Cyreth again, bit her lip.

?Do you require the service of my husband again?? she asked wearily.

?We wouldn?t take him from you again,? Cyreth assured her. ?But we do need to talk to him? about the changes in the Radiant Heart. Where is he? I don?t see him here.?

?That?s part of what I was talking about at the start,? Maria sighed. ?He?s stayed with us for the past two years, and he really has become a father? a husband again. But recently there was a Beholder uproar in the sewers, and he was called down by the Radiant Heart.?

?Beholders?!? Jaheira sucked in her breath. ?How could they have gotten into the sewers??

?They?ve gotten into the Old sewers before, remember?? Aerie shuddered. ?That ?Unseeing Eye? was horrible!?

?Perhaps it?s another Beholder looking for the Rod again,? Imoen shrugged.

Maria shook her head. ?That?s the problem. Keldorn wouldn?t normally have been called, and Keldorn normally wouldn?t have gone if there was just one.?

?Oh no?? Cyreth murmured. ?I see where this is going??

?Oh yes,? Maria informed her grimly. ?There?s a whole swarm of them down there.?

?Do any of the knights have protective gear or anything?? demanded Jaheira.

?None at all. That?s why I?m so worried Keldorn might be killed!?

?He?s got Carsomyr, at least. But what?s the point of sending legions of knights, even retired ones, down there with no protection? They?d all just get petrified or killed outright.?

?I know,? Maria agreed. ?It?s as if the Radiant Heart wants their knights to be killed!?

?This isn?t sounding good,? Cyreth declared bleakly. ?This isn?t sounding like the Radiant Heart as all.?

?What is the Radiant Heart?? asked Dirk.

?It?s like the Order of Knights here in Athkatla,? Cyreth disclosed absentmindedly.

?So what are we going to do?? Aerie inquired, sounding defeated.

?What do you think we?re going to do?? Cyreth gave a startling grin.

?Oh no?? muttered Jaheira.

?Oh yes. We?re going after him. And we might as well wipe out the Beholders on the way.?

?You would do that for Keldorn?? Maria questioned eagerly.

?Of course, Maria,? laughed Cyreth. ?But we do have some ulterior motives??

?Anything,? Maria choked suddenly. ?Anything to bring him back alive.?

Imoen gave the older woman an impulsive hug. ?We?ll bring Keldorn back good as new,? she promised.

?Thank you,? Maria closed her eyes. ?Thank you so much.?


The sewers brought back even more memories than Cyreth cared to admit. She remembered the helplessness she had felt as she stepped in there, aching to go after Imoen; yet knowing she had to raise the money to do so.

?Do you remember where Maria said the knights had been sent?? Cyreth?s voice echoed through the stone tunnels, silent except for the maddening drip, drip, drip of the water coursing down the slimy walls. The stink was overpowering.

?She didn?t know. But I think we?ll know it when we get there,? Dirk shuddered.

?What do you mean??

?If as many knights have been sent down here as she said, there?ll be quite a lot of... bodies.?

Aran shuddered also. ?I've heard tales of the eye tyrants, yet I've never fought one.?

?You?re lucky, then,? Imoen assured him. ?They?re damn ugly, all these little eyes sprouting everywhere. And they shoot all these spells at you. They?re quite easy to kill though? if you manage to survive long enough to get anywhere near them.?

Aran made a face. ?They sound bad.?

?Trust me, they are.?

?Quiet,? Minsc commanded. ?Boo hears something!?

They froze, their ears straining for the sound the ranger had so easily picked up.
A small scrabbling assaulted their sense of hearing. Then a startled cry.
Then more. As they moved closer towards the center of the sewers, the sounds of battle greeted them.
As they rounded a corner, a hideous sight met their eyes.
?I think you were right, Dirk,? Cyreth choked.


A small circle of knights were all that remained of the proud legions that had been sent down here. They had now drawn into a tight circle in the midst of all the beholders.
Cyreth swore. She knew that position all too well. ?The last stand? it was called, and while it was often very heroic, it was a useless waste of lives as all in it would eventually die.
A small flash of fiery plate mail attracted her eye, however, and she sighed with relief.
Keldorn.


Angurdval seared in her hand. Celestial Fury ached for battle. She grinned. Who was she to argue with her swords?

?Let?s go!? Cyreth yelled, leading the seven forth in a mad rush into the midst of the beholders.

Stony statues dotted the battlefield. Mauled and dead knights lay in piles, some still enwreathed in Beholder lightning. The sewers were littered with shining armor and rivulets of blood.

?Hang on Keldorn!? shouted Cyreth as she hacked her way towards him. ?We?re coming!?

?Cyreth? Jaheira?? the paladin?s eyes widened as he saw the seven emerge from a tunnel. ?You?ve come back??

?In the nick of time, it looks like,? noted Dirk, impaling a beholder in one swift move.

?Keldorn, old friend!? Aran yelled as he backstabbed a Beholder with Shadows. ?I haven?t seen you in a while.?

Keldorn?s eyes widened even more. ?Aran??

?The one and only, Keldorn!?

Keldorn grinned. ?I cannot say how good it is to see you again!?

?Then don?t say anything at all and concentrate!? cried Jaheira. ?The battle isn?t over yet!?


And she was right. As the beholders recovered from their initial shock, they started turning their attention away from the exhausted knights and to these new intruders.

Aerie screamed as the Beholder?s spell hit her, the pain engulfing her whole body. She pulled back from the midst of the battle, fireballs flying from her fingertips as she mentally cursed her stupidity in trying to fight the beholders by weapon. Now, however, the priestess was in her element.
Baervar, she quickly prayed. Help us to win this battle!
That done, she quickly utilized all of her abilities. She still remembered once, when long ago, she had collapsed to the ground, wailing that she was useless. Cyreth had firmly picked her up, regaling her with all the useful things she was capable of, harshly pushing back all of her timid arguments.
She had never forgotten when she had changed from the useless child to the full-fledged mage and priestess. She would always owe it to Cyreth, she knew. Every time a fireball sped from her fingertips, or Melf?s Minute Meteors explode from her palms, she remembered.


Imoen too retreated, casting a stoneskin for added protection. As the Beholder lunged at her, eyes wobbling on their stalks, she merely smiled and let loose a Dragon?s Breath.
The whole sewers rocked as the huge red dragon head appeared, snorting sulfur and naphtha, causing Beholder screams to rend the air.
Her eyes flashed dangerously as she looked down at the bleeding gouge on her arm. Then at all the dead knights.


For someone who had never fought Beholders before, Aran was doing surprisingly well. He melted in and out of the lumbering monsters, shoving Shadows into Beholder flesh with all his might. The eye monsters? strange screams echoed wherever he struck.
He felt as strange fire course through his body as he fought. It had been too long since he had been in such a full-fledged battle as this. Sheltered in the guildhouse, Aran feared he might have gone out of practice.
No fear of that now, he grinned to himself.

Jaheira repelled the Beholder?s physical attacks scornfully, whacking the great beast over the head. She cried out as a Beholder's spell hit her from behind, and then fell to the ground, blood streaming from her back.


Minsc waded through the army of Beholders, cheerfully swinging Gram back and forth like a toy, all the while bellowing threats.
?Evil cannot stand against the might of Minsc and Boo and Cyreth!? he cried as the huge broadsword cut into yet another beast. But as spell after spell enveloped him, and wound after wound bled his strength out, he swung Gram slower and slower.


Aerie saw the druidess falling, and the stoneskins basically leapt from the ground to cover her as she made her way towards Jaheira. A strange joy encompassed her as she saw that no more stone figures had been added to the statues already standing; the Beholders were clearly too busy with Cyreth, Dirk, Minsc and Keldorn stalking through them like Death himself. As for Imoen, Comets rained down impossibly from the sewer ceilings, and the red dragon constantly made more appearances.


She ran the last stretch to Jaheira, blue magic enveloping the druidess in a gentle light. The blood slowly stopped trickling, and Aerie hauled her up, using Crom Faeyr to battle away the Beholder that had been slinking up on them from behind.

?I won?t let my friends get hurt!? cried Aerie as she crushed three of the eyestalks irreparably into the Beholder?s head. With a shrinking cry, the Beholder stumbled backwards.

?There?s too many of them!? cried Jaheira, pulling her back.

Aerie?s face tightened. ?No! There can?t be. We?re winning!?

Jaheira shook her head fiercely. ?No! Sooner or later, they?re going to resort to petrifying us!?

?Why haven?t they already then??

?They?re still shocked by our appearance. When they?ve calmed, they?ll realized.?

Aerie?s eyes flashed. ?No they won?t.?
But as she turned, she realized that Jaheira was right.

?They can?t!?


Imoen?s Comets, Fireballs, Dragon?s Breaths, and Chain Lightnings, however, had done more damage to the Beholder army than Jaheira had expected. Soon, most of them were in flight.

?I knew it! We?ve won!? cried Aerie triumphantly.

?No,? Jaheira murmured hoarsely.

?What??

?The ones that have stayed? can?t you see??

?What do you mean??

?Of the eleven Beholders that are still fighting??

Aerie?s retort was hastily swallowed as she gasped.

?They?re Elder Orbs!?


Aran felt the spell suck at him, pull at him, and try as he might, he could not resist. With a cry of despair, he vanished.

?Aran!? screamed Imoen, searching frantically for the master thief. ?Aran!?

?He?s been imprisoned, Imoen!? Jaheira yelled back, desperately thwacking an Elder Orb brutally over the head, disrupting its spell as it tried to imprison her as well. ?Watch out all of you!?

Imoen felt the rage that Cyreth had spoken of enclose her, but it didn?t hit her as strongly as she feared.
Something glinted in her eye.
Improved Alacrity. Chain Lightning. Lightning Bolt.

Ten?

Cyreth sunk her blade into the Elder Orb?s main eye.
Then again.
Then again.
And then again.


Nine?

Dirk half-incinerated the Elder Orb as both Starmorn and Stareve blazed with light. After that initial blinding, Melf's Minute Meteors flew from his free hand, Starmorn still slashing at the Elder Orb repetitively.

Eight?

Keldorn looked angrily at the badly bleeding Elder Orb. He raised Carsomyr above his head, and brought it down with a crash.

Seven?

Fireball. Cloudkill. Disintegrate. Flame Arrow. Melf?s Acid Arrow. Aerie hewed at it from behind. Jaheira from in front.
Imoen let loose one last Flame Arrow.

Six?

Minsc, ignoring the fact he was badly wounded, disrupted the Elder Orb's spell as Gram sank into the quivering flesh, bringing out a stream of blood. The Elder Orb's scream echoed through the sewers. With one last blow, Minsc effectively decapitated it.

Five?

Sol's Searing Orb hit the Elder Orb from behind. As it shrieked and then turned on Jaheira, Aerie hit it with a Magic Missile. Already badly injured, the Elder Orb turned back with a roar to Aerie.
From behind, Jaheira brained the Elder Orb with the Staff of the Woodlands.

Four?

The Elder Orb now resembled a pincushion. The spellcasting had sapped some of Imoen's strength, and while she was recovering, she was peppering it with arrows.
And then all five of the Flail of the Ages' flail heads sunk into the Elder Orb? thirteen times.

Three?

Imoen had recovered. Bigby?s Crushing Hand. Sunfire. Cloudkill. Lightning Bolt. Arrows. A lot of arrows.

Two?

Keldorn, Minsc, Jaheira, Dirk and Aerie hit the second last Elder Orb simultaneously.

One?

?Dirk!? yelled Cyreth.

Dirk turned, and saw a spell fly from the last Elder Orb. He had no time to avoid it. He could not avoid it.
He was bracing himself for whatever spell it was, when a blur moved past his vision, leaping in between him and the spell.

?Cyreth!? shouted Dirk in horror. ?CYRETH!!!!"

Edited by Shadowhawke, 21 May 2004 - 04:03 PM.

[Shadowhawke]

Dirk picked his way through the sewers. He wrapped his silver cloak closely around him to ward off the chill.
The chill he was feeling from his heart.
He looked around bleakly at the cold dripping stone. The rivers of sewerage that ran through the pipes still ran red with blood.

But knights no longer littered the battlefield. The Radiant Heart? or rather the knights that were left, had gathered their dead and were transporting them back to Athkatla for proper burial. But Keldorn had stayed behind.
Dirk shivered. Thank the Gods Keldorn had stayed behind. He didn?t know how else they could have subdued Imoen. Even with Jaheira, Aerie, Minsc and himself hanging off her, she had continued casting spells blindly at enemies that weren?t there, choking incoherently over her tears. It was a wonder she had managed to cast half of those spells properly at all. It had taken the final lunge from Keldorn to finally bring her, weeping, to the ground.

Dirk stopped as he reached the spot where Aran had disappeared. He couldn?t help but know. He could hear the master thief as he raged against his prison miles below, almost beating himself unconscious with his repeated throws against the sphere walls.

?Hang on Aran,? begged Dirk silently. We?ll get you out of there? hang on.?

The mute cry his supernatural ears heard was enough to almost break his heart.

?We?ll get you out of there, Aran. I promise!?


But Aran wasn?t the only reason Dirk was suffering insomnia. He wound his way through the heaped Beholder skeletons.
Skeletons. The rats and assorted life in the sewers had already scavenged their share. Now, only the odd bit of Beholder entrails, skin and bone remained, rejected by the scavengers. Dirk shuddered again, the mere sight of the pale, lifeless bones reminding him of the carnage.
And reminding him of another massacre?

?Halren, I don?t want to leave you. What will you do if Syranthe finds out you?re here?!?

Halren grinned, a strangely youthful grin. ?At least in the years you?ve been with me, son, you no longer call me master.?

?Halren! Please! Why must I leave you? Syranthe will soon see??

?I no longer matter now, Dirk. My part in this is done. She had been blinded? albeit for a little while, by our ruses. But it is only a matter of time before she comes after me? and realizes.?

?That?s exactly my point, Halren! She?ll kill you? or worse.?

?I don?t fear death any more, Dirk. That is what you have taught me.?

?I have taught you??

?The master teaches the student, and the student teaches the master. And it is ever so. Go, Dirk. If you stay, you will die.?

?But if I leave, you will die! What kind of a choice is that??

?There?s no choice, Dirk. If you wish to unravel everything we?ve worked for in the last few years, stay. But you cannot, and you know it.?

?I know,? Dirk ground his teeth. ?That?s why I?m arguing.?

Halren raised an eyebrow. ?That irrefutable piece of logic escaped me.?

?Never mind,? Dirk laughed suddenly, and then caught Halren in a tight embrace. ?I?m never going to forget you, Halren,? Dirk murmured into the forest green cloak. ?I?m never going to forget you.?

?I will never forget you either,? Halren gripped the boy tighter. ?I will never forget you.?

Suddenly, Halren looked up sharply. ?Go Dirk! Go now!?

In unthinking obedience, Dirk ran.

His father?s manor stood barely three miles away. Dirk easily covered that distance in half an hour. Halren had always placed an emphasis on endurance.

But when he arrived, he wished he hadn?t.

The buildings lay in ruins, bathed in flames. He could hear women and children screaming, men shouting as they battled.
What in Faerun was happening?!
He instinctively ran towards the manor itself, angrily kicking aside wood and plaster as it rained down on him. Coughing and spitting as the smoke enveloped him, he ran grimly on, pausing only to wrap his cloak around his nose and mouth.
The stairs were crumbling and he knew that they were treacherous. But at this stage, he was past caring. He could feel his father up those stairs, so he knew he had to go.
Clenching his teeth, he stumbled, and tripped on the stairs. The half below him shuddered and crashed to the ground, leaving him dangling.
Unbeaten, Dirk pulled himself up on the rocking staircase, and kept running.

It seemed an age until he reached his father?s room. But as he approached, he felt his father?s defiant blaze of power.
He skidded to a stop outside the door, and barraged himself in, uncaring of the fact that a million enemies could be waiting inside. His father was in there. The father that had rejected him and rejected his powers; but was still his father.

His father had collapsed on his bed, and Dirk sprinted to him, kneeling besides him.

?Father! Father!? he cried frantically.

?Dirk,? it was a low mumbled.

?Father,? Dirk wept. ?Father, get up! I?m going to get you out of here??

?Too late, Dirk,? he weakly shook his head. ?Enemies of the Star Wolves??

Dirk?s eyes widened. ?You? you have..??

?Yes Dirk,? his father?s voice grew stronger. ?I have evaded our lineage for too long. I should have known that I could not. And given the choice, I will not!?

?Father,? Dirk despaired brokenly, hugging him close.

?Not much time, Dirk. You took the training and accepted it. I had the chance to take the training, but I rejected it. It is not too late. You know what must be done.?

?I can?t do that!?

?You know you must!?

Dirk heard the echo of Halren?s words, and knew?

Dirk slowly let go of his father, and clasped his hand. His mind melded with his father?s, and almost recoiled in shock as he felt everything his father felt, knew everything his father knew.

?So that?s..?!?

?Yes, Dirk. Hurry!?

Dirk didn?t hesitate. He plunged into his father?s soul, combining. Searching, he found the energy.

He withdrew, and saw his father?s eyes still open, yet fluttering weakly.

?You know what will happen now, Dirk,? his father whispered hoarsely. ?Good luck, and the Star Wolves? blessing I never gave you??

?Father!? screamed Dirk, but his father was gone.


Dirk tore out of the room, and skidded down the remainder of the stairs. The five-meter drop was enough to heavily jar him, but he absorbed it, and kept running.
His father was right. He knew what was going to happen now, and he knew he could not escape it.
But he could try.

He ran out of the manor, finally, after an eternity of flame and smoke, and stumbled, coughing, out of the great doors. As his foot left the doorstep, the whole manor gave a groan, and then collapsed entirely.
The sight that greeted him as he emerged from the manor was horrifying.
Bodies lay piled up, some babies and children still holding to their dead mothers? skirts. The absence of the wailing and screams that he had heard when he had come were even more implicative than the cries themselves.
Everyone was dead.
Blood ran in streams, staining what remained of the grass red. Death, death, death? Death and destruction? Death and destruction?
Dirk vomited, and then he heard rustles from behind.
He had known he could not escape it.
He felt a blinding pain on the back of his head, and blacked out.


He felt a blinding pain on the front of his head, and was immediately jolted back to reality, gasping. He had walked straight into a wall during his daze, he realized rather sheepishly.
Dirk shook his head, trying vainly to remember what he was doing before the flashback had overtaken him, and then remembered. Running now, his footsteps echoing through the sewers ominously.
He stopped before a stone statue, one of the many. But his heart wrenched as he slowly sat down before it, gazing up at the cold features that no longer breathed.
Cyreth.


He did not know how long he sat there before his flashback came back to his mind again. These small tidbits of memories that were slowly coming back were starting to make sense.
He was starting to remember everything? but still not the important parts!
His father and Halren and everything else... he remembered. The years that had passed? his father rejecting his lineage and urging Dirk to do the same.
But Dirk had refused. He had known that he could not escape his fate, and had gone to Halren for the training. His father had angrily rejected him after that, disowning him as a son.
But when he had returned after the years of training, he had come too late.

With a startling rush, everything suddenly came flooding back. Dirk cried out in a mixture of astonishment, fear, and horror. Everything?
Everything up until he had blacked out from the blow on the back of his head.
Dirk ground his teeth in pure frustration. He wanted desperately to scream with it, but knew that that would avail him nothing, and not only that, would wake up his companions and make him look like an idiot.
The most important? the most vital parts? he remembered everything but the most important parts! The Star Wolves? he struggled vainly to remember. Syranthe?
He gave up, his mind aching with the strain.


Dirk shifted in his position, and then finally gave up sitting, and stood.
Aerie had told him that when Cyreth was petrified, she would not be aware of anything that was going around her, just like a statue. And Dirk achingly knew she was right.
The normal life force he could feel? was gone. Even Aran, trapped underneath the ground, he could feel. But Cyreth was lifeless.
Tears slowly began rolling down his face. He suddenly understood completely what Cyreth had talked about? the gnawing, overwhelming feeling of guilt.
If only Cyreth hadn?t stopped the spell meant for me, Dirk thought brokenly. I would have gladly stayed in stone for a night in her place.


Moonlight fell from the sewer grille above onto Cyreth?s stone features. The black of the shadow and the silver of the moonlight scattered over her face. But since the grille was so thin, only small shards of shadow patterned her face.
Just like her, Dirk realized suddenly. The shadow is the dark side that will forever be a part of her, but the moonlight? the moonlight shows the other side. The caring, kind, compassionate, joking, laughing, honest, loyal, true, side.


Dirk traced her features with his sapphire eyes. She had a graceful jaw line, high cheekbones, a straight, narrow nose, and wide-set eyes. Her face was set in determination, just as it had when the spell had hit her. The indomitable determination that she was so famous for.
He gasped quietly. He had never seen her in the moonlight before; only in candlelight and in the sun. But she was undoubtedly the most beautiful elf he had ever seen.


?Couldn?t sleep??

Dirk spun around and saw Jaheira watching him.

?No?? he stuttered. ?Not? really??

?You love her,? Jaheira commented matter-of-factly. ?You know you do. I see you when you watch her.?

?I don?t?? he started, but then he stopped.
Out of nowhere, it hit him. He loved her. He had loved her the first moment he had seen her, when she had stood in the doorframe of his cell, wreathed in her anger, terror, and worry. He had only fallen unconscious when she had picked him up. He remembered the compassion in her voice as she sung? that beautiful, lilting music. He was in love with her. He knew it. There was no use denying it, and he found that he didn?t want to. There was no shame in loving a woman like her. There was only honor? and the love.

?Yes? I love her??

?I thought so,? Jaheira inclined her head.

?Oh no?? Dirk suddenly groaned. ?Now what??

?What do you mean by that?? asked Jaheira amusedly.

?I mean? I know I love her now. Now what? How do I tell her? What do I say? What do I do? She mightn?t love me!?

?I think she might be beginning to,? Jaheira told him. ?I?ve been watching her as well. Ever since she came out of Candlekeep so long ago, I have been with her. I have grown to know her. I think that inside, she loves you, but she doesn?t know it? yet.?

?But how?? asked Dirk bewilderedly. ?How can she love me? I?m such an idiot!?

Jaheira laughed. ?You?re an idiot when you say that, Dirk. Why do you love her??

?I love her because of her honesty. Her curiosity. Her compassion. Her trust. Everything about her. I love her for her.?

?Then she loves you for you.?

?But what is there to love in me? I?m just a partial amnesiac who?s no use to anyone!?

?Aerie once said that,? Jaheira commented softly.

?What do you mean? Aerie wouldn?t say that? would she??

?The Aerie you see now is a far different Aerie from the one two years ago. Two years ago, I was less than impressed by her complaining and self-pity. But she has changed. After a battle where Cyreth was badly hurt because Aerie was frozen with fear and did nothing, she collapsed on the ground, weeping. But Cyreth, still bleeding, picked her up and told her all the things she could do. She taught her how she could use her strong points and strengthen her weak points. Just as she has taught me.?

?I never knew that.?

?I?m not surprised. Aerie is still ashamed of what she was, but she needn?t be any more.?

?So? what do I say to Cyreth tomorrow??

?Say whatever comes into your head, Dirk,? Jaheira smiled affectionately. ?You?re a Bard, aren?t you??

?Thanks.?

?You?re welcome, Dirk,? Jaheira grinned, and then she made her way back to where everyone was sleeping.

Dirk stared after her. He had never seen this side of Jaheira before.
Then he turned back to the stone statue, and his heart ached again.
Tomorrow? tomorrow was not soon enough.

Edited by Shadowhawke, 21 May 2004 - 04:06 PM.

[Shadowhawke]

?Didn?t you sleep at all??

Dirk whirled around again, and saw a pale Imoen behind him.

?No, I couldn?t sleep.?

?Why not??

?I just couldn?t sleep,? Dirk looked down at the ground, feeling red rise to his cheeks.

But although Imoen was slightly distracted, she noticed his blush. ?I wish I could have had the luxury of staying awake and gazing at my loved one,? she grinned cheekily.

Dirk?s head flew up. ?You knew?!?

?Of course I knew,? Imoen patted him roguishly on the cheek. ?But my thickhead sister never realizes when guys are interested in her and when she?s interested in them because she?s too wrapped up in saving the world and worrying about everyone else in the world but her.?

Dirk looked at her in admiration. ?I can?t believe you said all of that without taking a breath.?

?It?s a skill, Dirk. It?s a skill,? Imoen grinned. ?Now excuse me??

She was about to run off, when she looked around disconsolately, the color draining from her cheeks. ?I can?t believe this? I don?t even know where Aran?s imprisoned!?

?Hey, relax,? Dirk comforted her. ?I know where he is.?

?How?? demanded Imoen.

?You wouldn?t believe me?? Dirk brushed off.

?Try me.?

?Okay. I can hear him.?

?WHAT?!?

?Told you. I knew you wouldn?t believe me.?

?How?? mandated Imoen. ?How??

?I don?t know. But I?ll show you where he is.?

?Alright?? Imoen acquiesced.


Imoen hardly managed to stutter out the spell, and when Aran appeared, slightly dazed, she threw himself into his arms.

?Aran I thought I told you that if you wanted to get killed you should ask me and not get yourself killed!? yelled Imoen half-incoherently. ?Don?t you ever do that again! Twice was enough, okay?!?

Aran laughed shakily, before hugging her back. ?Okay, I promise this time.?

?You promised last time!?

?I know,? he grinned.

?You idiot,? Imoen grinned back. Then she stepped away and looked at him closer.

?These bruises? these scratches? I don?t think you had them??

?You?re right, I didn?t,? laughed Aran hollowly. ?Let?s just say I went berserk enough to try and physically break my way out of the sphere.?

?That?s impossible though! You need to have someone else cast freedom!?

?Yeah, I learnt that? the hard way??

?You idiot,? Imoen hugged him again.

Dirk tactfully exited the tunnel to leave the two in peace.


Dirk had to resist shaking Aerie awake, knowing that she would lose the Stone to Flesh spell that he wanted so badly. He sighed. Sometimes it was irritating not being able to learn spells from scrolls. Although he could cast them from scrolls?

?I?ve not had the time to be formally introduced to you, young man.?

Dirk raised his head and saw the paladin making his way towards him. ?Nor you, I,? he smiled.

?I am Keldorn Firecam, retired paladin,? Keldorn shook his hand warmly.

?I?m Dirk? currently bereft of a last name,? Dirk smiled wryly. ?Well met.?

?Well met indeed, Dirk. I fear that we would have been massacred had Cyreth and you not come along.?

?Yes? well? there were times I was afraid we?d all be massacred,? Dirk admitted.

Keldorn laughed. ?I, too. But your skills combined did turn the tables. I do remember that Cyreth always used everyone?s strengths to her advantage? even their weaknesses. Although those were only the times when she bothered to plan.?

?Bothered to plan?? asked Dirk, slightly stunned. ?But I thought she planned everything!?

?Cyreth? Of course not. She didn?t plan the Beholder battle, did she??

?No?? Dirk admitted.

?Although I remember she planned a goodly number when I was with her,? Keldorn reflected. ?She?s a brilliant strategist.?

?A brilliant strategist that I?m looking forward to seeing back in flesh,? Dirk commented. ?Has Aerie woken yet??

?She spent a lot of time memorizing those spells last night. She should probably be awake soon, though.?

?Good,? Dirk sighed.

Keldorn took that as a sign that their conversation was over, but as he turned to go, Dirk called him back.

?You probably know Cyreth better than I do. What should I say to her when she..??

?About her saving you?? Keldorn asked.

?Yeah?? Dirk blushed again. ?I don?t really know what to say.?

?Well, women are difficult to figure out, sometimes. But you know Cyreth. She?s straightforward and honest. Be straightforward and honest back.?

?Thanks Keldorn,? Dirk smiled, relieved. ?I?ve been thinking about that all night.?

?No problem, Dirk,? the old paladin let a mischievous grin pass over his face. ?We men have to stick together? women are so impossible.?

?I heard that!? yelled Imoen from behind them.

Dirk, Keldorn and Aran looked at each other and started laughing.


Pain. Pain. Blinding pain. Then light? striking light? light dissolving away the cold? the stiffness? the death?

Cyreth cracked into life with a gasp. She had been still and unaware for too long, and she fell forward, Dirk leaping forth to catch her.
?Gods, what happened??

?You took the Elder Orb?s spell for me,? Dirk whispered.

?No? I meant what was happening in? there??

Cyreth gulped. She remembered what had happened while she was stone too well.


?So? who are you, boy? You?ve piqued my interest.?

?I?ll tell a stinking vampire nothing!? snarled Dirk.

?Courage? Bravery? Defiance? they are good to feast upon,? shuddered Atheriel with pleasure.

?Careful, Atheriel,? Hakdan warned. ?Syranthe doesn?t want this one harmed? too much.?

Atheriel?s long, curved, fangs twitched as she stroked Dirk?s cheek with one deadly nail.

?Why ever not??

?Get away from me, vampire!?

?Fear too??

?I?m not afraid of you!? hissed Dirk.

?Really?? Atheriel asked lazily.

Dirk would have leapt at her if he wasn?t chained firmly to the stone wall. But he tried to any way, muscles straining.

?Well, we can?t have you being a naughty boy, can we??

Dirk spat into Atheriel?s face.

Her ivory eyes were thoughtful as she wiped his spit away. ?What do you think, Hakdan??

?I say another dose of fire,? Hakdan growled.

?Excellent thought.?

Dirk screamed as the shadow fire enveloped him, but it was not his body that suffered the flame. He felt his spirit, his soul, withering under the attack.
Pain for an eternity.


?Cyreth, are you okay??

Cyreth looked into Dirk?s worried sea-blue eyes, and felt a strange temptation to lose herself in them again. She shook herself out of it, and then shivered again. ?No? I don?t think so.?

?Why, what?s wrong??

?While I was in the stone? I could see.?

?See what?? Dirk demanded, praying fervently that she hadn?t seen him looking at her with love? heard Jaheira and his conversation. And yet, his heart wished that she had.

?I could see you being tortured. By two vampires. Atheriel and Hakdan.?

Dirk?s face tightened. The names flashed into his mind and found a place in his memories.

?You must have seen me being tortured. How..??

?I have no idea.?

Cyreth suddenly realized that she was still in Dirk?s arms, and pushed herself up, shaking. ?Anyway, I?m fine now.?

?I?m? I?m glad.?

?Yeah, so am I,? Cyreth shivered. ?I had no idea how horrible it was. I?m so sorry.?

?I remember it? now,? Dirk told her softly. ?Don?t feel sorry. You saved me. I should be thanking you.?

?You don?t need to thank me, Dirk,? smiled Cyreth.

?But? thanks for taking the Elder Orb?s spell for me.?

?That?s okay,? Cyreth looked down at her feet. ?I didn?t want to see you killed.?

?Well, you two?? Imoen asked mischievously. ?Can we finally get going??

Dirk and Cyreth started. They had half-forgotten the existence of any of the others.

?Of? of course,? stammered Cyreth.

As they moved off, Dirk fell into step besides her.

?Uh? Cyreth??

?Yes??

?Um? I just wanted to say??

?Yes??

?I? I? never mind.?

?Are you sure it?s not anything important??

It?s damn important, thought Dirk, frustration and shyness overwhelming him. But how do I tell her that?

?I?m sure,? Dirk told her, the firmness in his voice a sham.

?We can always talk, you know.?

Dirk smiled wryly. ?Yeah. I know.?

The group moved off out of the sewers, Dirk cursing his lost opportunity.

Edited by Shadowhawke, 21 May 2004 - 04:08 PM.

[Shadowhawke]

Cyreth leant back on the couch with a sigh. It was approximately two hours since she had vacated the temporary job of being a decorative statue, and those two hours had been spent trudging back to the Firecam estate and having a well-deserved wash. Now, as she studied the paladin sitting on another chair in front of her, his grateful wife by his side, she looked expectantly to him for answers.

?So how did the Radiant Heart find out about the Beholders?? she asked, when everyone had finally arrived.

?I have no idea,? Keldorn admitted. ?Usually, it would take a long time. No one really is insane enough to visit the sewers often, and if they do, they usually get killed. But this time? I don?t know how word would have gotten back to the Order. After all, anyone who sighted those Beholders would most likely have been killed.?

?Would it be plausible to say that perhaps the Order was tipped off??
Aran asked shrewdly.

?At this rate, I?m starting to believe anything is possible,? Keldorn sighed heavily. ?The Order has been acting strange??

?I?ve told them that, Keldorn,? Maria interrupted them.

?Thank you my dear. Perhaps you should tell them the full extent of the strangeness? You, after all, were usually the one who answered the door.?

?I will, Keldorn,? agreed Maria. She took a deep breath, and focused on Cyreth, directing most of the story to her.

?The Order has left us alone, really, for the last two years. They were saddened by Keldorn?s retirement, but they had known it would inevitably come, and were surprised it had not come sooner. Well respected as he was, he still kept a hand in the Order?s concerns, giving advice and strategically planning the next major battle against demons? although the plans sometimes escaped my logic.?

?I think he got that from me, Maria,? grinned Cyreth. ?Anyway, go on.?

?Well, he was planning on gradually decreasing his activity within the Order. And he did this fairly well, but some of the higher officials objected.?

Keldorn shook his head in disbelief. ?I had known many of them from when they had just entered the Order! They knew as well as I that I had an obligation to Maria and my daughters? and yet they clung tenaciously on, as if they could not bear to let go. I wonder why??

?I guess that I erred when I told you the Order was acting strange as of five days ago,? Maria apologized. ?As Keldorn made his retirement more and more final, more and more bickering ensued. Some told Keldorn to give up Carsomyr to the Order, others urged him to keep it.?

?I kept it, of course,? Keldorn shook his venerable head sadly. ?It was the only link that I had of all of you, and I was not willing to forget that link.?

?So what happened after that? Boo is interested to know??

?Well, new faces began showing themselves in the Order. I liked not what I saw? young men who were more ready to drink themselves into oblivion at a tavern than pick up a sword. I still know not how they managed to worm themselves in.
But then it was no longer the young men that bothered me. Young women began joining too, and while I had lost the stupid prejudice against female knights when I met with Mazzy, I was worried. They were not normal? I could almost feel the supernatural powers? and evil rolling off them. I don?t understand how they passed the test in the first place!?

?Perhaps they didn?t pass it? they were merely helped to pass it,? suggested Jaheira darkly.

?I don?t like to think of that,? Maria shuddered. ?But anyway, when Keldorn finally severed all ties with the Order, they went strangely quiet for three months or so. We didn?t hear any word from them.?

?Until one night, they came pounding on our door, and demanded that they see Maria,? Keldorn divulged grimly.

?Neither of us knew what they wanted,? Maria shrugged. ?But it was strange all of the same. The ones who came were the female ones? they looked more dead than alive.?

?Dear lord,? Aran gasped. ?Are you telling me they?ve let vampires into the Radiant Heart??


?Vampires?!? Keldorn exclaimed, leaping to his feet, before sheepishly sitting down again. ?Vampires? but I could hardly tell??

?I could, Keldorn,? Maria informed him quietly. ?I felt? the deadness coming from them. Perhaps it is because of my training.? She smiled wryly. ?I?m no undead hunter, but the force inside me? my ki? something was wrong about them. And yet Keldorn is right. Vampires are usually a pale blue to deep blue, and you can see their fangs clearly. These? female knights were only a very, very light blue, and I saw no trace of fangs.?

Dirk and Aran cursed simultaneously. ?These vampires are different!? Dirk exclaimed.

?Yes,? agreed Aran darkly. ?Out of those forty or so assassination attacks, I never once saw their fangs until the last one.?

?They must be retractable, or something,? Cyreth pondered.

Aerie gulped. ?What kind of? d-demons are these??

?Clever ones,? Imoen replied bleakly. ?Very clever ones. And powerful ones too.?

Keldorn looked from Imoen, to Aran, to Dirk, and then traveled his gaze over all of them. ?I seem to be missing something here.?

?Imoen, can you fill him in??

?Sure thing sis??


Keldorn and Maria listened with growing horror, and when Imoen finally culminated with the vampire attacks on Aran, Keldorn was on his feet again.

?I made an oath a long time ago not to let anyone harm you, Cyreth,? Keldorn blazed. ?And I intend to let your capturers??

?Dirk suffered a lot worse than I did,? Cyreth overrode him bluntly. ?And this whole thing is affecting us all.?

?Yes,? Keldorn started pacing. ?This is beginning to affect me far too personally again??

?You?re not going off again, Keldorn?? Maria started.

?I?m afraid that duty calls again, Maria,? Keldorn sighed. ?If the Order has been overrun, and even the thieves guild is threatened, it looks as if I must ?go off? again. And enemies have attacked Cyreth,? Keldorn?s eyes flamed. ?I will fulfill my oath! Any who harm Cyreth shall pay for it!?

?You didn?t let me finish, Keldorn. You?re not going off again without me.?

?My love, didn?t we agree that when we married that you would give up adventuring??

?It was lack of foresight on my part that made me forget to get you to agree to that as well,? muttered Maria. ?But you cannot stop me, Keldorn. Our children have grown up, and they?re already enrolled at the boarding school. I no longer need to stay behind to look after them. This affecting all of you personally, and it is affecting me as well. I?m just as curious as you are, Cyreth,? she looked at the Bhaalspawn, pride in her eyes. ?I wish to know why the vampires were looking for me. And I wish to help you. I?ve yet to repay you for bringing Keldorn back alive.?

?But??

?No, Keldorn,? Maria interrupted him again. ?This is for Cyreth to decide.?

Cyreth looked from Keldorn, to Maria, back to Keldorn, then up at the ceiling.

?Welcome aboard, Keldorn, Maria. Welcome aboard.?


Cyreth padded around the rooms on bare feet, thinking hard. It was only when she crashed into Dirk that she glanced up.

?Oh? sorry Dirk. I didn?t see you.?

?I don?t think you would have seen Minsc with his cloak on,? Dirk smiled. ?You?re so lost in thought. What?s wrong??

?A lot of things. That vampire said that we would find our doom or whatever in the Radiant Heart. But nothing?s happened!?

?That?s because we actually haven?t gone to the Radiant Heart itself, yet. Where is it??

?In the Temple District? Gods, you?re right! Why didn?t I think of that??

?Because you were thinking too hard and worrying too much. Come on, Cyreth. Sleep. It?s past midnight.?
?Why aren?t you sleeping, then?? countered Cyreth.

Dirk felt a blush rise to cover his face, and forced it down again. ?I? I? I was thinking about the fact that you saw me getting tortured,? he lied lamely. It even rung false to his own ears.

Cyreth nodded, lost in thought again. ?That was strange. I know I wasn?t there when that happened, so how could that happen??

?I have no idea,? Dirk shuddered. ?But I remember it happening. It was no illusion or imagination.?

?I know,? Cyreth?s voice suddenly became hoarse. ?How could anyone? even vampires? stand to do that??

?I don?t know,? Dirk swallowed shakily. ?I don?t know.?
Then the full memory burst on him again, and he felt every single thing.
Atheriel?s nail stroking his face? the revulsion and disgust. The hatred. The loathing. The defiance. Hakdan?s cruelty. The shadow fire devouring his spirit again.

Suddenly, Dirk was on the ground, screaming again. The pain flashed anew. The shadow pain. The shadow flame, burning at his heart, burning from inside? burning? burning?

?Dirk!? cried Cyreth. ?Dirk!?

His gut-wrenching screams brought everyone running. Aerie?s blue magic enveloped him, but it did nothing.
And then Cyreth was screaming with him. Cyreth felt the agony. She felt her soul and Dirk?s merging in the shadow flame? ablaze for infinity.


?Cyreth! Cyreth, dammit!? Jaheira yelled, slapping Cyreth hard on the face again.
Aerie?s mind raced back to that seemingly long ago night at the inn. Dirk was the key, she knew. If she could get Dirk back to normal, she?d get Cyreth back to normal as well.

Maria came running up the stairs, Keldorn close behind her.
?What is happening?? Maria demanded, looking at the writhing two in horror.

?Looks like a replay of that night at the inn Imoen told you about,? Aerie told them grimly. ?Only this time? they?re not asleep.?

?They would be harder to control if they were awake, though,? Keldorn exclaimed. ?What do we do?!?

?I have no idea,? Aerie gritted her teeth, and turned to the rest of them. ?Everyone! Concentrate on waking Dirk! Once he wakes, Cyreth will wake as well!?

?Dirk!? bellowed Minsc, shaking the young man fairly hard. ?Dirk! You must wake up!?

?This isn?t going to work, Aerie!? cried Imoen.

?Well what do we need to do?? demanded Jaheira.

?I?ve got an idea,? Aran interrupted her.

?Well tell me, then!?

?Will it work?!? he mandated, after quickly relating his plan to Aerie.

?It might? but there might be some danger to Imoen,? Aerie replied hesitantly.

Aran?s face fell. ?I don?t want to put Imoen in any??

?That?s not the point right now, Aran,? Imoen cut him off curtly. ?Will it work, Aerie??

Oh Baervar, Aerie thought wildly. I don?t actually know!


?Atheriel,? Syranthe ordered, gloating as she watched. ?Atheriel, have you done my command??

?I cannot, my Lady,? Atheriel whispered, kneeling down before her mistress. ?I can find no records of him anywhere.?

?What of the old fool in the forests??

?Hakdar failed,? Atheriel hissed. ?He did not manage to bring him back alive.?

?He would not go with me and he fought too fiercely,? Hakdar snapped defensively. ?He was too powerful for me. I was lucky to get out of there with my life.?

?So you sent five underlings to complete what you should have done?? Syranthe demanded icily.

Hakdar flushed... as well a vampire could. ?I ordered them to get him out alive. They disobeyed. They are the ones who should be punished!?

?That doesn?t negate the fact that you are the one who should have carried out our mistress? order, Hakdar,? Atheriel smirked.

?He was too powerful for me,? Hakdar reiterated angrily.

?Too powerful for you?? Syranthe asked him sibilantly, turning from her seeing orb to look at Hakdar with hate. ?I have poured much of The Power into you. I will not take ?too powerful for me? as an answer.?

?My mistress?? Hakdar faltered under her unyieldingly cold glare. ?My mistress? I erred in speaking so. Forgive me.?

?There is no forgiveness from the Mistress of Shadows, Hakdar,? Syranthe spat. ?You know that very well.?


This was a gamble. This was the biggest gamble she?d made in her life. But now was not the time to have second thoughts.
Imoen merged her mind with her soul, looking for that place in her that still held the gift Bhaal had gifted to all his children. The gift that even the Solar could not take away.
Imoen threw herself into a rage.

Edited by Shadowhawke, 21 May 2004 - 04:11 PM.

[Shadowhawke]

[Monday 2/2/2004]

[Yes, yes, yes? I?m supposed to be doing my homework that?s due tomorrow, (Harsh, considering we only just started school today!) but I can write while I study? although the quality will most likely be crap again. Ah well. Sorry if it?s too short. I don?t really have that much time?
and I?m feeling a bit too sentimental today?
Enjoy? or at least try!]

Hakdar lay lifeless on the shadowy floor. Atheriel?s eyes glinted as she licked the blood from her lips. ?My thanks, mistress,? she rasped, still savoring the taste of The Power.

?You are now twice as powerful, Atheriel,? Syranthe turned back to her orb. ?You will be the sole commander.?

?I will serve,? Atheriel smiled wickedly, baring her bloodied teeth. ?I will forever serve the Mistress of Shadows.?

Syranthe let a sibilant sigh escape her. ?I only said that to impress upon Hakdar as to whom he?d crossed. I am not Mistress of Shadows? yet.?

Atheriel shrunk back as she saw the deadly gleam in her mistress? eye.

?I require but a few more things??


Aerie could barely stutter out the Hold spell, but when they had waited for what seemed an unbearably long time, Imoen groaned again. Instantly, Jaheira and Aerie grabbed her hands.

Imoen felt the rage, and could just barely control it. She could see how hard it must have been for Cyreth? whose ?gift? was about a hundred times stronger.
This was no gift. More a mixed blessing? mostly a curse.
She felt the anger, the flaming fury boiling out of her, into Aerie and Jaheira. They hissed simultaneously as the rage flowed into their bodies, and then began casting Heal.

Imoen tottered and fell into Aran?s waiting arms.


Dirk felt something literally wrench him from the Shadow Fire. He felt a different flame burning him now. A completely different flame. Red, bloody fire battled with shadow fire? both completely unaware that they were using his frail, mortal body as a battleground.

And then all of the fire sucked out, and Dirk sat up, gasping, his own screams echoing in his ears.
Then he promptly fell down again.


Silhouettes of the real world intruded on the blackness, and Cyreth groaned out loud as she opened her eyes.
Gods, am I really making a habit out of this, she thought mirthlessly.
?Cyreth??

Cyreth sat up instantly, and then rolled out of bed and stood up, noting that she was still fully clothed. ?Yes??

There was a pause. ?Uh, it?s me. Dirk.?

?Come in.?

The door tentatively opened, and Dirk slid in.

?What happened??

It burst concurrently from their lips.

?I??

?I??

?You first.?

?You first.?


?Okay,? Dirk exhaled. ?I felt? what we felt on that night at the inn, remember??

?Yeah, I remember,? Cyreth shuddered. ?This is becoming one hell of a nightmare.?

?We need to find whoever is doing this to us soon. Next time?? Dirk faltered.

?What??

?Next time, I?m afraid that this might just kill us,? Dirk concluded bleakly.

?So am I. That was more painful than last time.?

?Whoever it is must be getting stronger,? agreed Dirk.

?This isn?t good,? Cyreth steadied herself by leaning against the bed. ?I?m feeling too weak? physically. Mentally, I feel? for some reason, I feel absolutely great. But physically? I don?t know if I could kill a gibberling, right now.?

?I?m sure you could,? Dirk laughed. ?All you need to do is hit them once.?

His eyes caught hers pleadingly, almost begging her to realize what he was trying to say. Cyreth felt drawn into their liquid depths?

?With a dagger,? Cyreth added, trying to forcefully take her gaze away from those compelling eyes. Yet a part of her wanted to stay there, looking at him, forever. ?Mm? perhaps I could take one on??

?I?d take a million on if I had you by my side,? Dirk whispered softly.

There was a strange, awkward silence. Cyreth didn?t know what to say, and Dirk was inwardly already cursing himself for his stupidity.

?I? I think I would too,? Cyreth murmured at last.


Dirk was about to say something, when he tripped over Angurdval, which had been left carelessly lying on the floor. Luckily, however, Angurdval was in its sheath. Cyreth reached out to catch him, and then she found Dirk in her arms.


Dirk could feel Cyreth?s warmth through his clothes. His skin tingled as his own body responded to hers, and she unconsciously found herself responding to his. He felt her quivering under his weight, but not because he was heavy. Her mouth was slightly open, as if she wanted to say something, but she either couldn?t or wouldn?t. He slowly regained his balance, no longer leaning on her, but still close. Dirk shyly reached out his hand, slipping it over soft, lightly tanned skin. He felt her freeze beneath his touch, and drew his hand back immediately. His eyes traced her elven ears, and lost themselves in her silky russet hair. Then he looked full into her emerald green eyes, his own sapphire irises strangely magnetic.

Cyreth tensed, and then let a faint gasp escape her lips as Dirk touched her cheek, feeling a pleasant tingling as Dirk drew his hand back in concern. She wished suddenly that he had not? his warmth had evoked a strange response from somewhere deep within her? a place that she hadn?t even known existed. She felt a strange longing to hold him in her arms again, to whisper into his hazel hair, to touch his skin as he?d touched hers.


The two leant forwards at the same time, instinctively, searching each other?s eyes. Dirk saw complete honesty and trust in her grass-green irises. Cyreth saw shyness and gentleness in his.
They mutually closed the distance between them, closing their eyes?
And then they leapt apart as somebody knocked on the door.

?Are you awake yet, Cyreth??

?I?m awake, Imoen,? Cyreth called back, recognizing her sister?s voice.

Imoen opened the door, and then looked at the two standing guiltily in the center of the room, an open grin on her face. ?Am I disturbing something??

?No,? Cyreth shook her head. ?Of course not. What?s wrong??

?Nothing?s wrong, but Maria wanted me to let you know that breakfast is gonna be ready soon. And then we?re setting off.?

?You were the one who saved us last night, weren?t you??

?This morning, actually,? Imoen corrected tiredly. ?It was about one in the morning.?

?Thanks so much, Imoen,? Dirk?s voice cracked. ?I think we would have died without you.?

?No problem, just don?t make a habit of doing that too often,? Imoen laughed.

?What?s the plan for after breakfast, by the way??

?The plan? Simple. There?s none.?

?What are we going to do, then??

?Simple. Destination, the Order of the Radiant Heart.?


Cyreth shivered as she gazed up at the huge brooding building that housed the Order of the Radiant Heart. She had stood in exactly the same place many times before? but that had been before this dread shadow had clenched its cold hand over all of their hearts.

She whirled around as Keldorn clanked up behind her, her eyes full of something she could not explain.

?How long has it been? like this?? she demanded, a harsh note in her voice even she had not heard before.

?I? I do not know,? Keldorn stared at the darkened building. ?I? perhaps the changes have been too slow for me to notice. Damn me for a fool??

?It wasn?t like this two years ago, though,? Cyreth whispered hoarsely. ?It was nothing like this! What has happened??

?Vampires. Evil,? Maria reported grimly as she walked up to stand by her side, glancing at the Order with an indiscernible mixture of confusion, revulsion and fear. ?But I can feel something very wrong here. Something has happened? something? something horrible!?

Keldorn leapt to his wife?s side as she toppled over. ?Maria! Are you alright?!?

?I?m not someone to be coddled, Keldorn,? Maria snapped, pushing herself up. But her face was ashen gray. Even Keldorn realized that she was attempting to cover up something.

?Maria, what?s wrong?? asked Aerie nervously.

Maria gritted her teeth. ?My ki? it is reacting to this? hate. This shadow.?

?Shadow, hate. Sounds familiar,? muttered Aran.

?What do you mean, master thief?? questioned Jaheira.

?My way of saying that the terms are too broad to do us any good,? Aran explained. ?Anyone is capable of hate. Light always brings shadow along with it.?

?You?re wrong,? Dirk whispered softly? but so softly nobody but Cyreth heard him.


?I?m not sure if we should really go in there,? Aerie glanced at it uneasily again.

?Minsc and Boo will protect you from any harm!? Minsc exclaimed. ?We will wipe out the evil and then we will??

?I?m afraid that it?s not going to be so easy, Minsc,? Imoen commented lightly. ?These vampires sure as hell aren?t normal.?

?Seek your doom in the Order of the Radiant Heart,? Cyreth murmured. ?You are not the only one that is afraid, Aerie.?

Aerie immediately blushed crimson. ?I? I shouldn?t have said that. Why should I be afraid, when you are the one who is in the most danger?!?

?Don?t be ashamed, Aerie,? Cyreth told her softly. ?Only a fool is never afraid, and as stupid as I am sometimes, I don?t think I?m a fool.?

?That?s highly debatable,? Imoen mumbled under her breath.

?But I know your fear,? Cyreth continued, a strange note creeping into her voice. ?None of you have to go in there. Only me. She said that I would seek my doom in the Order of the Radiant Heart, not that any of you would.?

There was a silence? as much of a silence as there could be. They could not dismiss the background sounds of the Temple District that echoed all around them. People laughed and chatted, and sung and prayed. They could hear the mournful tones of the dirges here, and the music swung around them, until Cyreth could bear it no longer.

?A world apart from the world I knew,
Where has the clear time flown?
Failure cold and triumphs few,
Where is the soul I?ve known?

The breath of wind so ghostly true,
The only thing I feel,
Of emerald green and sapphire blue,
And all things ethereal

Sing closer, of the twisted day,
Of thwarted wounds and time,
For I cannot wish this night away,
Though I weave the strands of rhyme,

What does the formless future hold?
Of despair and hopes that fly?
How long do I stand and ask this, cold?
Yet receive no harsh reply?

Trembling with emotion from deep inside,
Cannot be dispelled, powerless to form,
Cannot be reached, or be pushed aside,
Unwilling to change, hate to conform

Fill hearts with false courage, spirits with strength,
Words a grim weapon, time a dark race,
No longer alone, yet without a defense,
Whirling through endless voids in black space

Step closer to the heart of time,
A dirge, a blessing, a curse, a hymn,
Hear the answering bells? great chime,
Know not what the future brings??

Cyreth?s voice faded away with the notes of her harp, and her head slumped forwards onto her chest.

?I know not what I feel?? she whispered, her hazel hair falling to cover her face. ?But I feel? empty??
A single crystal tear floated through the air, to land on the pavement before the Order of the Radiant Heart with a soft sigh.
?This is killing me??


?And this would kill me if I left you to face this alone,? Imoen growled, suddenly descending on her sister. ?I?m not getting this nearly as bad as you or Maria, but I?m a damn retired Bhaalspawn too! I?m takin? anything that comes along with the job, and you ain?t going to stop me!?

?Gorion was my friend. You are my friend. You are mad to think I would leave your side, no matter what pretty words you might spin,? Jaheira cried fiercely.

?You saved the circus. You saved Baldur?s Gate. You saved Amn. But most of all, you saved me,? Aerie lifted her chin up. ?You?re not going in there without me!?

?I made an oath, Cyreth. And even you cannot make me leave, no matter how much you plead,? rumbled Keldorn, standing defiantly.

?I will not ever forget,? Maria bowed her head. ?You returned Keldorn to us, and then you saved him again. I owe you a debt that I am willing to repay a million times over.?

?You helped to rescue Dynaheir! You are a force of butt-kicking goodness! I would be mad to leave you? if Boo already didn?t say I am slightly mad? am I? I don?t think so??

?This concerns you as much as it concerns me, Cyreth,? laughed Aran wryly. ?And though I hate to admit it, I, too, owe a debt to you. Two years ago, you saved the Thieves? guild. And you?ve been a friend. You are I will not forget that any time soon? if I forget that at all.?


?And I,? Dirk smiled softly. ?I?

Cyreth turned to him, a look of desperation suddenly crossing her face.
They shared a long, long, glance.

?And I am not about to leave you alone, Cyreth.?

The unsaid words? the many, many unsaid words that he spoke in his clear-eyed gaze to her flowed across the barrier of air, and into her heart.

?You forget, though, all of you,? Cyreth whispered. ?I didn?t do any of that alone. You all helped me. None of you owe me anything.?

?Stop being such an idiot, Cyreth!? Imoen suddenly burst out. ?Stop this martyr thing and let?s get on with it! We?re not leaving; we?re all going to follow you to hell if need be? oh crap??

Minsc grinned. ?We have already been to hell!?

?Yes,? Jaheira glared at Cyreth. ?I don?t know what has gotten into you, child, but we are all with you, until the end of times.?


Cyreth heard a bell toll in the distance. Then they reawakened in a joyous call, crying out to all that Lathander, the god of creativity, youth?
And renewal. Always, always renewal.
She felt a huge weight lift from the pit of her stomach, suddenly, and she found herself smiling. Gone was the inner depression and self-loathing that had haunted her for the Gods know how long. She was free of something that had followed her around since she had left Candlekeep?
Everyone might still not accept her because she had been a Bhaalspawn? was a Bhaalspawn? but that didn?t matter any more.
Her friends accepted her.

The bells cried out their carefree tune, calling to all the world that Lathander walked amongst them.

Her friends accepted her.

They chimed in a wonderful, musical melody, crying out to everyone in their sonorous tones.

She was ready.


Cyreth took a deep breath and faced the ominous doors of the changed? oh so changed Order of the Radiant Heart.
And then flashed a grin at all those who followed her?
Followed her with love.


The door creaked so loudly that Cyreth suddenly had an unreasonable desire to run? from all this terror. She bit it back viciously, however, and continued grimly on.

Edited by Shadowhawke, 21 May 2004 - 04:14 PM.

[Shadowhawke]

Chapter 8

[Tuesday 3/2/2004]
[Okay, I promise that after that load of sentimental? never mind. But anyway, after that sentimental chapter, I?d be cruel to beleaguer you all with another. So basically no sentimental stuff in this! I promise!
Enjoy?]

Silence pervaded the very essence of the hall.

?Typical,? harrumphed Aran scornfully finally, shattering the fragile quiet as he looked around at the ghastly interior. ?Just typical.?

?Typical?!? mandated Aerie in a half-strangled squeak. ?What do you mean by typical??

?Look at this,? snorted Aran, gesturing around with a graceful sweep of his arm. ?Have they no imagination? Every evil den I?ve ever walked into is the same. Shadows, pools of stuff running down the walls, gray, black, lifeless, cold. You?d think that evil would get a little more original??

?Where is this place?!? demanded Keldorn, a hushed tone of horror in his voice. ?I have never seen it before? I swear.?


The interior of what once had been the most noble Order of the Radiant Heart was hideous. Slime dripped perpetually from down the walls. Darkness blanketed the atmosphere in a suffocating grasp.
It was as if they had stepped into Bodhi?s dark lair once again.

?Well,? Cyreth forced out. ?At least we know that although these vampires seem to be more powerful, they?re not getting more original.?

Imoen laughed; a sound that seemed wildly out of place in this nightmare. ?That?s for sure,? she grinned. ?They?re a lot better at fighting? but they?re still about as dumb as the average termite.?

?Is that so? godchild??

Imoen froze, and then spun around to face the speaker.

?Yeah, that?s probably so,? shrugged Imoen. ?Hell? even the ?sinister? decorations on the wall are the same as Bodhi?s. You vampires really like scabbing ideas off each other, don?t you? I wonder where the first vampire got it from? ah, probably some poor demented architect.?

?Would you be interested to know that the great Lloth inspired these pictures?? demanded the vampire frostily.

?Llothy? Humph. Figures, those weird symbols over there look vaguely like her trying to fit into a skirt??

Cyreth gazed open-mouthed at her sister. The rest of them stared.

?Imoen,? hissed Cyreth. ?What in Faerun are you doing??

Imoen didn?t reply, keeping her eyes fixated on the growing band of vampires in front of her. But Cyreth saw her flicker one eye in a wink.

Cyreth suddenly understood. The bond between them that had been there since their first days of Candlekeep had done nothing but grown since it was fist forged. Cyreth knew instinctively what Imoen?s plan was, and she felt a small laugh bubbling up inside her.
How perfectly? appropriate.


She lifted her heel, and then silently slid it about an inch behind her. Then she did it again, and again, until she was about three meters behind Imoen and the others. None of the vampires seemed to have noticed. They were still fixated on Imoen and their leader, half stunned by Imoen?s audaciousness, half enraged by it.

Imoen was right.

?And that one? is that her belly-dancing? Yeah? thought so. Oh, and by the way, is it true that she?s gotten together with Cyric? They?d be a nice couple. Both so beautiful and evil? and yet so damn dumb they don?t know what 1 + 1 is. That?s just typical of evil, isn?t it? So full of themselves?
After all, only an idiot even attempts to take over the world or half that crap you crazies seem to think up. You think you?re going to take over the world? You?re not. About a million other weirdoes have tried it before, and they?ve all failed because of one thing? they?re dumb. Isn?t that sweet? You all have something in common. Doesn?t that make you feel good? You?re all like your precious Lloth if you think about it. In fact, you?re even like good old Cyric. Because you?re all so stupid.?


The shadows were so dark they gave her more than enough cover. She couldn?t even see the vampires any more. She could only see the faint backsides of her seven friends?
Seven?!
She looked around wildly, and then almost had a stroke when she realized that Dirk was kneeling next to her.

?What?s Imoen?s plan?? Dirk murmured. ?She?s going to be in trouble in a second. They?re finally going to come out of an inarticulate rage and rip her to pieces.?

?And when they do, they?ll be sorry,? whispered Cyreth back, grinning.

Comprehension dawned in Dirk?s quietly sparkling eyes. ?Clever,? he remarked admiringly.

?Imoen?s idea,? Cyreth smiled. ?They?re usually clever.?

There was no speech between the two of them after that, for they were concentrating too hard on what they were doing, and trying vainly not to laugh as Imoen continued on relentlessly. It was a wonder that the vampires hadn?t burst yet.

?Okay, I?m done,? Dirk mouthed finally.

?So am I??

Step by step, Cyreth and Dirk silently joined everyone else again, a small smile playing on Cyreth?s lips as she caught her sister?s inquiring look.

?See? I mean, look how dumb you guys? oh, didn?t see you over there. Guys and girls? oh what?s the difference? You?re both stupid and damn ugly, so there isn?t a difference, is there??

That was the clinch point. With a roar, the group of now twenty vampires descended on the nine, their harsh cries grating against their ears.

?Run!? yelled Cyreth, dragging Keldorn and Minsc away. ?Run back!?

?But?? protested Minsc.

?Run!? hollered Cyreth.

?Duck!? cried Dirk simultaneously, and the nine instinctively threw themselves to the ground as a huge explosion echoed from behind them, tossing the shadows ruthlessly into the farthest corners of the dark hall. As Aerie struggled to her feet, Dirk pulled her down again as a second detonation lit the hall up completely, after sending balls of fire blasting directly over their heads.

?Get up!? cried Cyreth, leaping to her feet and running again.
The bewildered six followed Cyreth, Dirk and Imoen, and in quick succession, they heard three sharp *cracks* behind them, and roars of pain. And then?
And then nothing at all.

Dirk and Cyreth stood tremblingly still, and then turned again. They had but twenty seconds... precious time the two Time Stop Traps had gifted to them. And they were not prepared to waste that time.

Starmorn and Stareve sparked from Dirk?s hands to leap amongst the remaining vampires not killed by the Exploding traps and the Spike traps. Angurdval and Celestial Fury followed suit. Moving amongst the frozen figures, Dirk and Cyreth quickly cut down the remaining vampires.
Just as the spell ended, Stareve cut into the last enemies? heart, and the gaseous forms of their adversaries floated off into the darkness.

?Follow them!? yelled Cyreth, sheathing Angurdval and Celestial Fury in one smooth move and running after the quickly moving wreaths of mist.


Their footsteps echoing and clattering uncomfortably on the floor, they ran quickly in pursuit, stopping only occasionally to pull up a comrade that had tripped or slipped on the dank floor. Twisting amongst labyrinths of corridors that Keldorn shuddered as he ran past; they followed deep into the heart of the Order. Blazing torches now lighted their way, cutting through the shadows quicker than a scythe. The whole place now reminded Cyreth of a medieval dungeon.
It was not the most comforting thought.
A sudden idea struck her, and she threw a quick look over her shoulder to seek the fiery red armor of Keldorn.

?Do you know where we might be going, Keldorn?? questioned Cyreth as she slowed down to run besides him.

Keldorn nodded. ?I fear? I fear that we are going towards the cells of the Order. I recognize that much of this? this evil place.?

?Figures. Is there a shortcut??

?Yes,? Keldorn stated after a short hesitation. ?But I know not to which cell they will go to.?

?We?ll figure that out. Take us on that shortcut? if you know where we are.?

Keldorn nodded again, and then suddenly jerked them off into a new corridor.

?Where are we going?? demanded Maria and Jaheira simultaneously from behind them.

?We?re taking a shortcut,? Aerie cried over her shoulder. Having overheard Keldorn and Cyreth?s urgent conversation.

Yeah? Cyreth thought suddenly. A shortcut to Gods knows what fate awaits us.


Keldorn had been a knight of the Order of the Radiant Heart for decades. He knew each twist and turn of the building like the back of his calloused hand. He could have found his way through the maze blindfolded, he knew. Yet the questionable skill had never been of much use.
Until now.
His wife and seven of his friends ran behind him. And though sweat was beginning to bead on his forehead and trickle down into his beard, he led them with assumed confidence, inwardly doubting his ability to navigate through this place that had basically been a home to him.
But his memory served him well. Soon, he skidded to a stop, clanking in his heavy armor, gasping for air.

He felt a small weight at the back of him, and turned and gently helped Aerie to her feet.

?Where are we?? asked Cyreth.

?We?re at the start of the cells,? Keldorn returned grimly. ?The way the vampires were going suggest that they haven?t been here for too long.?

?Then it will be easier for us to root their unholy blight,? Jaheira muttered satisfactorily.

?There they are!? Aran interrupted, pointing his finger down the corridor, where they could faintly see many ghostly shapes floating quickly.

?Follow them,? ordered Cyreth, immediately setting off after them.

?You know, sis,? Imoen commented as she ran. ?You?ve got a habit of stating the obvious.?


The dank cell they entered made Aerie cry in horror. There was barely enough room for them to walk single file through the cluttered cell?
Cluttered with coffins.

?Vampires,? muttered Aran. ?I hate vampires.?

?We were lucky they weren?t those super ones,? Imoen shuddered. ?We would have been dead meat? or rather? I don?t want to think about it.?

?There?s so many?? Aerie gasped, pointing at the rows of neatly laid coffins.

?How come this cell is so big?? Maria asked her husband.

?This cell is the special cell for people who have not been proven guilty or innocent yet, and have just been called in. It used to be quite a comfortable place??

?But the vampires changed it,? Jaheira finished for him, spitting on the floor in disgust. ?Damn their foul hearts!?

?Did we bring stakes?? Maria queried.

Aran gave an odd laugh. ?Oh yes. Ohhh yes.?

?What was that supposed to mean?? Imoen asked suspiciously.

In reply, Aran began to take them out of his clothing.


The huge pile that finally ended up on the floor drew their stares for two minutes or so, before the stares were relocated to Aran, grinning modestly.

?How many are there?? demanded Cyreth in a strangled voice.

?Let?s see? I had five down my back, ten strapped to my torso, six down each leg? I lost count after that.?

?But how could you carry that all?!?

?I?m not that good,? Aran confessed, laughing. ?I?ve a nice little Bag of Holding??

?Aran,? grinned Imoen, hugging the master thief. ?I love ya!?

Aran?s smile softened. ?And I love you too??

Jaheira coughed. ?Sorry to break this tender moment, but we need to get around staking these vampires right now!?

?Yes ma?am,? Aran chuckled.


All of Aran?s stakes were needed. They had had no idea of how many vampires had attacked them. Added to those, there were also some resting.

?Damn it!? Aran swore as they sunk in the last stake. ?There?s two more!?

?Just our luck,? Aerie said, a downcast look on her face.

?What do we do?? Keldorn asked. ?We cannot just leave them there!?

?Looks like we?ll have to,? Cyreth sighed. ?I don?t like this. I?m sure there are many other vampires in here??

?We won?t have to do anything like that,? Dirk disagreed softly, drawing Starmorn and Stareve.

?What do you mean?? Cyreth asked sharply, turning abruptly to face him.

Dirk gave no reply, but he opened one of the last two coffins, and looked down.

The vampire?s eyes were closed, and her black hair tumbled amongst her shoulders. Dirk looked up again, and then plunged Starmorn into her heart.
With a shriek like a boiling kettle, the vampire dissipated into nothingness.

When Dirk had disposed of the last vampire, Cyreth gazed at him in wonder, and at his swords.

?Don?t ask,? Dirk murmured. ?I don?t remember? yet.?

?Well,? Maria interrupted the silence after his comment crisply. ?What do we do now??

?We?? started Cyreth.

?You die,? laughed a voice sibilantly from behind them.

[Shadowhawke]

[Wednesday 4/2/04]

[My battle scenes have been a little bit strange, so I?m sorry. But I?ll try to do this one a little better. I?ll probably fail, but I?ll try.
Enjoy! ;D]

?You!? roared Minsc, setting his hands immediately to Gram and swinging it up above his head quicker than the eye could blink.

?Minsc!? cried Aerie. ?Don?t!?

Minsc ignored her, and was about to crash the sword down on Atheriel?s head, when Cyreth and Imoen stopped him almost at the same time.

?Minsc!? Imoen yelled.

?Later,? Cyreth whispered through gritted teeth into the ranger?s ear.

Minsc froze, and then grudgingly acquiesced, lowering Gram down until the point touched the floor.

?Minsc and Boo and Cyreth will wipe evil all over Faerun on their butts, though, won?t we??

?Yes, but later.?

?You again,? sniffed Jaheira. ?But alone.?

?Alone?? Atheriel tasted the word on the tip of her dead tongue. ?But I am not alone.?

?I do not see anyone else with you, vampire,? Keldorn observed curtly. ?Therefore, you are alone.?

?I?m not alone? after all, we are all here, are we not? Or are you but diaphanous shadows, transported here from outside??

?What?s she talking about?? Aerie asked Maria confusedly.

?She?s merely saying that she?s not alone because we?re in here,? Maria remarked dryly.

?Maria,? Atheriel murmured, nauseating sweetness dripping from her voice. ?I see that you?re here.?

?That you can see anything out of your half-lidded eyes is extraord? Atheriel?!?

?The one and only, Maria,? Atheriel glided towards the shocked monk, her body undulating as she reached closer and closer.

?Stay back, fiend!? cried Keldorn, leaping in front of his wife, the Holy Avenger flashing in his hands.

Atheriel stopped, and looked disinterestedly at the huge broadsword, until her eyes widened as she recognized it.
?Carsomyr,? she spat, taking a quick step back.

?The one and the only, Atheriel.? Seeming to have finally recovered from her shock, Maria threw the vampire?s own words back into her perfectly curved fangs.

?Maria,? Keldorn asked in disbelief over his shoulder, never taking his steely eyes off the vampire. ?You know this? creature??

?No,? denied Maria strongly, staring with incredulity at Atheriel from behind her husband?s back.

?I should have known,? whispered Atheriel, vitriol searing her voice. Maria flinched, but held strong. ?I should have known that you would deny ever seeing me.?

?I do not know this creature that stands before my husband,? Maria snapped. ?But I did know a girl once? a friend? a fellow adventurer.?

?I?m touched,? Atheriel spat back, letting her loathing seethe. ?That is all you remember then??

?No,? Maria looked defiantly at the vampire. ?I remember the headstrong best friend I confided everything in. I remember how you opened up and whispered your dreams to me one night in the monastery. And I remember how you said, with wonder in your voice, that you would find immortality.?

?Which I have!? cried Atheriel exultantly, cold blue skin flushed with feeling. ?I have found immortality! And you? goody-goody Maria have found nothing but a husband!?

?I prefer my path to yours,? Maria growled defensively, staring past Keldorn?s stunned eyes into the livid eyes of the vampire. ?I have a husband that I love and will die with or for? not an undead state built on the deaths of others; not a pitiful mimicry of life that you hold by feeding on blood!?

?You would be surprised,? whispered Atheriel enticingly. ?Sweet blood? a greater food than any I sampled while I was human. Join with me, friend. You have no allegiance to your husband. Of all the years you have been with him, he has barely spent three years with you. We wer? have been friends for over a decade. What say you??

Maria gazed at her, opened her mouth, closed it, and opened her mouth again. For once, the monk was lost for words, yet struggling to come to a decision that no one knew was how hard. Rooted to the ground, she looked at her former friend despairingly, switching her gaze to and from Atheriel?s cold face to Keldorn?s anxious one.

Keldorn looked pleadingly into her violet eyes, not daring to say anything. He had known Maria for so long now? even he could see the inner turmoil. But he had no idea why this was such a hard choice. He could not even begin to imagine why his beloved was finding it so hard to choose. Life or undeath? It seemed a simple enough choice for him. The mere thought of undeath was repugnant? he couldn?t understand.

But Dirk did. He could see the tension in the woman?s body; read the agonizing indecision in her face. Observed her clenched fists and wild glances from her husband to Atheriel and back. Suddenly, he realized that if Maria gave in, a catastrophe would result? but he knew not what it would be.

?Life,? he whispered, his sapphire eyes flashing.

No one heard.

?Life!? he cried stronger, breaking the barrier of stillness Maria had erected around her. ?Life!?

Maria opened her lavender eyes with a flash, and stared at him? just as everyone else was doing.

?Life, Maria,? Dirk repeated, softer this time. ?Think of life.?

?Think of eternal life!? Atheriel overrode him. ?Eternal life? life forever!?

?What you offer is death!? Dirk shouted, raising his voice for the first time since they had met him. ?Death, death, and nothing but death! And a lust for power that you will never have!?

Atheriel sucked in her breath sharply, and curled her blood red lips and shining fangs into an elegant sneer.

?Do you remember, boy??

?I remember,? snarled Dirk.

?Then you would remember? this!!!?


Dirk fell on the floor? writhing and twisting, screaming as he felt the shadow fire devour his soul again. A split second after, pain exploded, and Cyreth, too, collapsed to the ground.
Five breaths later, Aran crumpled to the cold floor.
Not a flash after, Imoen was on the ground? her screams rivaling Cyreth?s.

?What devilry is this?!? Keldorn cried as he seemed torn between attacking the vampire and helping the four.

?My devilry,? cried Atheriel exultantly. ?Mine!?

?Curse you!? cried Minsc, bringing Gram?s tip up from the dead floor, to swing it down on Atheriel?s head. ?Minsc and Boo will crush your evil to the ground and use it as fertilizer!?

Atheriel?s laugh cut off in mid cackle.

?I think not, ranger.?

?Boo thinks so!? shouted Minsc as he brought Gram down, the blade cutting through air with a shriek?

And stopping with a shriek as it lodged into Atheriel?s dead flesh.

Minsc gaped as he stared at his massive weapon buried in Atheriel?s body. With a scornful twist, Atheriel shoved herself off the blade, and the open wound closed up with nary a murmur.

Maria stared. ?You are no ordinary vampire,? she half choked.

?How observant of you,? Atheriel grinned hungrily as she reached out a claw to rend Minsc in two.

But the ranger was not a ranger for nothing. Quick on his feet, Minsc dodged the unnaturally fast descending claw and, only slightly off balance, swung Gram at her again.
Only this time, Carsomyr quickly followed suit, and the swords flew down in sync.

Only this time, Atheriel?s eyes flew open in horror, and threw herself back.

Gram missed, but Carsomyr struck true. With an ear-piercing scream, Atheriel scrambled backwards, bleeding openly from where Carsomyr had hit her. But as Keldorn pulled the sword from her body, shadow fire blurred the wound from their sight, stemming the dark, viscous liquid that was the vampire?s undeath.

?Regenerating demon,? Keldorn swore.

?Too true, paladin,? snarled Atheriel as she advanced on him. ?Too true.?

But as her claws reached out to impale Keldorn, Maria finally moved.
She seemed to soar through the air in her graceful, impassioned attack.
That ended with her foot almost buried in Atheriel?s head.

Atheriel stumbled back as the incredible force behind Maria?s kick took its toll, and Maria almost fell out of the air, yet managed to right herself to land right in front of her husband.

?Get away from him,? Maria warned dangerously.

Dazedly, Atheriel looked up. No one else was aware of the pure, blazing life that Maria had poured into her defiant kick, but Atheriel, the recipient, definitely was.

?Your husband over me,? Atheriel bared her teeth. ?So it?s to be that way, is it??

?I?? Maria stuttered, suddenly looking lost.

A sneer crossed Atheriel?s face as she looked at Keldorn. ?Pitiful.?

As Maria leapt forwards with a cry, Atheriel dodged aside, letting the monk land on the ground lithely, and twist to face her adversary? who promptly answered with scathing claws.

But then she saw Carsomyr descending on her again, and jumped backwards, slashing out a vicious talon to cut through Keldorn?s armor and bite into his arm as he pulled it back instinctively.

?Curse you,? she snarled at Keldorn. ?Curse you all!?

And then she vanished, only a trail of her voice left behind.

?Next time we meet? Maria? choose well!?


Maria stared at the spot where Atheriel had been, and then let a single tear trickled down her face.

With the sudden shock of realizing Atheriel was truly gone, Minsc and Keldorn ran back to where Aerie and Jaheira were desperately trying to bring Dirk, Cyreth, Imoen and Aran back to their senses.