Adrian: Baldur's Gate

Xzar led them to a large domed building. The sign out side read: Sorcerous Sundries. Larger than all the other buildings in the area, save the conglomeration of houses to the north, it looked like a giant battle drum.

Edwin visibly brightened. "A mage shop! What excellent spell components they must have! (Finally a chance to put my new robe to good use as well!)"

Xzar looked skittish. "Aye, they do, Red Wizard. But--heeee--now is not the time for browsing, heheh."

Edwin frowned, but nodded.

Xzar led them inside, and indeed it was spaccious and beautiful inside, almost like a cathedral. The walls were lined with books. A round desk in the center, a shopkeeping mage behind it, two customers talking to eachother in front of it. Xzar gave the mage a brief bow, then hurried to the stairs, flush against the curving wall, to the party's left.

The stairs were both steep and narrow, made of fine marble, as was the wall itself. Soon, everyone in the party save Adrian and Korgan were panting. Viconia found herself thinking how tall the building had been from the outside.

Eventually, though, they made it to the second floor, which looked much as the level below had, with more books. The roof was stained glass, letting in multicolored sunlight. Adrian was again reminded of a cathedral and wondered if perhaps it had indeed been a temple to some sanctimonious God of "Good" or other before it had become a magical warehouse.

A quartet of mages stood in more or less the center of the room, around a raised platform. On it was a symbol Adrian recognized at once, as did indeed all the party save Viconia; a black stylized captial "Z" on a red background. The symbol of...

"The Black Network of the Zhentarim," said Adrian. There was a note in his voice that was almost admiration.

"We are," agreed the lead mage. He looked in many ways like Xzar; tall, scrawny, black hair and beard. But he exuded confidence and sanity, and a grim self assurance not unlike Adrian's own.

"The Iron Throne has made things difficult for us," the lead mage went on. "You are helping to eliminate that threat, Adrian. Xzar has spoken favorably of you in his reports."

"Ah," said Adrian, nodding his understanding. "The Throne is serious competition, and what's more their blaming you for their own plots, leaving them in the clear and setting the Harpers on your trail."

"That is so," the Zhentarim mage agreed.

Xzar, meanwhile, had bowed low to the floor, his head almost touching the marble. Now he straightened up. "I daresay--eheheh--masters, that Adrian could be a useful continuing operative for us, even beyond this current conflict."

The Zhentarim leader looked thoughtful. He turned to Adrian, who nodded. "So long as the gold is good, I'm willing to take any number of jobs on for you."

"Goes double for me," Kagain grunted.

The Zhentarim smiled an evil smile. "That is good," he said. "My name is Wheber Ott. Any further missions will be handled through me."

"So it shall be, Wheber," agreed Adrian. "But I have a few questions of my own."

"The affairs of the Black Network beyond any missions you fulfull for us are not your concern," said one of the mages flanking Wheber. Wheber turned and glared at that one, a portly blonde, who recoiled.

Seeing that, Adrian curbed his own temper. "I meant not your other operations. I was speaking of myself."

Slowly, Wheber nodded. "Xzar mentioned your powers and his beliefs about them to us. I have no reason to doubt his thoughts. And I'm sure the Thayvian amongst you concurs with that theory."

"I do," said Edwin, quietly. Both he and Xzar looked scared now.

Wheber sighed. "Very well....this will not be pleasant. But if you are to be our operative, it's safe to say we owe you this."

Adrian nodded. "I get the impression it is not a good knowledge. But I must know."

"Indeed it is not," said Wheber. "Having grown up in Candlekeep," he said, "You must have studied. In studying, you learned of the Time of Troubles."

"The time of the deaths of many gods, after they had been forced into mortal shells," Adrian agreed.

"Just so.....one of the evil gods of this time, Bhaal, foresaw his death. He didn't know when, or where, or how, or why. But he knew it would come. And so he took steps to prevent it."

The large room had grown very quiet. Xzar and Edwin, and the three other Zhent mages besides Wheber, were visibly holding their breath. The portly blonde had broke out in a sweat of fear. Safana and Viconia were looking at eachother uneasily.

Adrian stared, unmoving, at Wheber.

"Some years before the Time, he visisted the Realms in avatar form, and took women of every race. Some of these women were willing cultists of his, some were not, and were raped. But in all of them, he planted his seed. Creating many children.

It was his hope that, as the children matured, they would listen to the dark call of their father in their veins, and slay one another, and many others around them besides. At last, one would remain, and through that one the father would be reborn.

The cult tried to accellerate this process by sacrificing as many of the children as they could, early. But some escaped, and some were rescued, and they were scattered throughout the Realms.

You, Adrian....are one of those children."

For a moment there was absolute silence.

Then there was a loud Clank. This was the sound of Adrian sitting down in his armor, more like falling into a sitting position, without knowing he had done so. His face had gone a pasty white, completely drained of blood.

There was a long, long pause. Coran let out a strangled whimper. Kagain dropped his axe, producing another mettalic noise. Safana and Viconia slowly came around to face Adrian, who was still staring at Wheber, his eyes like holes in his face.

"Adrian, are you--" Viconia began, but before she could say another word, Adrian opened his mouth and screamed. He screamed a Bhaalscream, and that scream was composed of one word. It was a word that cracked the stained glass windows above, and threatened to shatter them. The whole building trembled with it.

The word was "WHAAAAAAT?!?"

What?

Imoen tried to scream this word, but it came out as a whispery whimper. She stared unbeleivingly at Jaheira.

Jaheira looked bad at her, her brown eyes wide open and sad. "It is true, Imoen. You are one of the children of Murder. As is Adrian."

Imoen began to cry. Then she threw back her head and screamed "Nooooooooo!"

"What...." said Sarevok, almost disbeleving.

"It is true," said Winski. "We have failed. Reiltar is determined to go ahead with the plan, and the assasins he called for will take weeks to get here. He wants to go to Candlekeep as quickly as possible, now."

Sarevok punched one armored fist through the table. It was a ritual table for sacrifices to Bhaal, as they were currently standing in the altar room of the underound temple. It shattered into a million fragments, some of which stung Winksi.

"Control," he said, mildly.

"Yes..." Sarevok said, breathing heavily, and straightened up. "We will have to delay him. If nothing else, he must learn to take the threat of Adrian seriously."

Adrian remained sitting down. Wheber had taken his outburst extremely well. He was greatful nothing more catastrophic had occured, like Adrian trying to kill them all.

Slowly, shakily, Adrian got up. "I will....need some time to deal with this..."

"Of course," said Wheber.

"I have my own....my own af-f-faris to deal with in the city, pursuant to...to taking down the Throne."

"Naturally," agreed Wheber.

"If you'll excuse me," said Adrian, mastering some control of himself, "I think I shall need some time to recover in the nearest inn."

"That would be the Blushing Mermaid," said Wheber. "Xzar needs to stay here for a bit, I need to defrief him further on the mission up to this point. He will join you there later this evening."

"Very good," Adrian managed, feebly. He turned to go, with aching slowness, obvious trembling. Without a word between them, Viconia and Safana moved to support him, each taking an arm. They led him downstairs, followed by all save Xzar.

Coran was the last of the group to head down, wondering over and over what in the hells he'd gotten himself into.