Adrian: Baldur's Gate

Viconia knew when the moment had come. There was no need for discussion. She hat motivated her male well, and the time to strike needed no spoken word. Her male had formed the group into a well-oiled fighting machine.

Her hammer cracked against the face of an enemy cleric, before that one could raise the powerful staff he wielded. She had seen such weapons of faith before, in the Underdark. Drow high priestesses were often given them as a mark of special favor, and they could rain all sorts of hell down upon their foes with it.

So she did not let her opponent have a chance to use it. Again and agian she hammered him, until the stave was knocked away and he was on his knees. He tried to beg for mercy, but Viconia's hammer caved in his skull before he could finish the plea.

She lifted the Stave of the Heavens, or Hells as they were known in her homelands, and looked around. The real emmisary Tar had fled down the stairs in a panic. Tiax was taking down the doppleganger with ease. Adrian had already dispatched two of the foe. Kagain's axe was flying. She smiled in satisfaction.

Then she saw both Edwin and Xzar were down. Edwin was rolling and groaning, Xzar was still. Between them lay an enemy mage, clearly dead.

But the other spellcasting foe was still on his feet, twisting his hands in a spell. She saw Adrian would not reach him in time.

So she called upon the power of the staff, slamming it against the floor, and the enemy mage was suddenly reeling, his spell lost, as his robes and hair caught fire. He began to scream.

Adrian was with him in two steps, swinging his new, green-bright blade, chopping the wizard in half.

Silence fell then, as they surveyed the carnage. Blood everywhere. Tiax knelt bover Xzar, and the Zhentarim stirred. Even Viconia winced as she saw him bleeding from both hands and the shoulder. Edwin was hobbling to his feet nearby, leaning aginast a wall for support.

There came a strange sound; the heavy clinking noise of gauntleted hands clapping. Sarevok stepped through the archway from the balcony, a dark mage by his side.

Viconia had not yet met the adversary, though Adrian had described him. Yes, the same golden, spiky armor, the same eyes, a sullen sulfur.

"Well done, brother," Sarevok said to Adrian. "You are a worthy foe, as I knew that night outside Candlekeep."

Adrian raised his blade high, staring at his brother with anger. "You would sacrifice your own best followers so easily?"

"Reiltar's best," Sarevok corrected dismissively. "Mine are much better. Such as Winski, here." The mage cast down his eyes modestly.

"You are a poor tactician, brother," Adrian said coldly. "With the help of these underlings, you could have finished me easily. Now you must face my entire party."

"I need no help to destroy you!" Sarevok raised his own two handed blade and charged. Adrian rushed to meet him, but before their blades could meet....

....Sarevok was gone.

"What?!?" Adrian bellowed.

"That mage, Winski," said Edwin thickly, from where he leaned against the wall. "He teleported them away."

"NO!" Adrian Bhaalscreameed, with such force it shook the tower.

Viconia knew her male was losing control. And given the situation, she didn't exactly blame him. But nevertheless she dashed over and gripped his arms.

"Calm yourself, lover," she urged. "We will get him yet. In the meantime, let us find the usual paperwork evidence that such as him leave lying about."

"It is the usual pattern for the Throne," said Edwin cautiously from behind them. Next to him, Xzar was doubled over in pain, trying not to retch.

Adrian stared at Viconia for a long time with his cold gray eyes, and she shivered. The pupils of those eyes were like black bottomless pits. Much more terrifying in their own way than Sarevok's eyes.

"Yes," he said finally, harshly. "Let's find the precious paperwork for the damned Flaming Fist." All but spitting in fury, he stormed into the apartment chambers on the other side of the devastated battlefield that had been the Throne's top floor.

Over his shoulder he snarled, "Viconia, Tiax. Heal our wounded."

Viconia nodded. That had been close. Too close. In more ways than one.

Sarevok slammed Winski against a wall. "You fool! I had him! The battle had weakend him to the point where he was no threat!"

"And his entire party as well, even wounded?" Winski returned mildly. "The two of us against the six of them? Be reasonable."

"I am not reason, Winski," Sarevok thundered. "I am Murder!"

"Control," Winski returned, still calm. "And you are not Murder, not yet. Not without my help and planning, to say nothing of the aid of the Cult of Ressurection."

Sarevok held him against the rough cave wall a moment or two longer, then let go. They were at the entrance to the undercity, not far from the temple that was Sarevok's base.

"Besides," Winski went on, "They will find the evidence that will lead them to Reiltar, back in Adrian's old home. They will follow him there."

"Yes..." the sulfur blaze in Sarevok's eyes faded a little. "Candlekeep. We need to get moving in that direction ourselves, before Adrian does."

"Correct. And one more thing, may I remind you, that even after you ascend to power, there will still be Cyric to deal with."

"I will crush Cyric between my thumb and forefinger," Sarevok snarled.

"Not without Control you wont," Winski returned.

Sarevok raised a fist and cocked it, then let it drop. "Very well. But I warn you Winksi. Never do that again. Or nothing will save you. Nothing."

He turned and walked away from his mentor, to prepare what they needed for the trip to Candlekeep.

Winski took a deep breath and shook himself, then followed.