Adrian: Baldur's Gate

Marek was waiting for them in the drizzly dark, by the entrance to the city.

Adrian handed over the scroll. "Honor the bargain."

Marek nodded, held up the scroll, and whispered something. The scroll dissipated in a golden flash in his hands. "Ahhhhhhh...." he whispered. "Free."

Adrian held out his hand, wordleslly. Marek handed over a potion vial, streching and standing tall as he did so.

"You'll each need to drink some of this. It's one half of the cure. Lothander has the other half. He's at the Blushing Mermaid. You'll have to kill him for it."

"What of you?" Edwin asked.

"Me?" I am free. I'm getting out of the city before the Throne finds me." Marek eyed Adrian. "They're afraid of you, Adrian. Use that to your advantage." Then he turned, bolted through the gates of the city, and was gone.

Adrian uncorked the vial and swallowed a mouthful of the green fluid. It tasted of nothing, but sparkled and tingled on it's way down. He handed it to Viconia.

"One wonders why they'd have the cure at all," said Edwin, after Viconia had downhed her potion and passed it to him.

Adrian shrugged. "Perhaps they thought we'd beg for mercy, so that they could take us to Sarevok and Reiltar to be killed before them."

One by one, the party members drank the fluid. It was no accident that Tiax got the potion last; none of the others trusted him enough not to drink more than his share, not even Xzar.

"Tiax is wounded by your lack of trust," he said.

"You're a Cyricist. Shut up and drink," said Adrian.

Tiax drank.

Xzar and Kagain both knew the way to the Blushing Mermaid; and Wheber, the Zhentarim envoy, had told them to rest there, not knowing or caring that the Elfsong was closer. The Mermaid was in the north east corner of the city, hard against the fortress walls. It was a loud, rowdy place, and indeed it may have been more suitable to Adrian's troupe than the Elfsong. They could hear boisterous brawling going on inside as they closed with it. It let out a much brighter golden light than the red glow of the city's magical lamps, but it was not a friendly glow.

They entered, ignoring the melees, looking for Lothander.

"I don't see him," said Viconia, scanning the room with her elven eyes.

"He might be upstairs," said Kagain. "There's gambling upstairs, as well as...female entertainment."

Viconia chuckled.

"Let's go then," said Adrian.

They mounted the stairs, and sure enough, Lothander was standing at a roulette wheel, a scantily clad harlot on his arm.

Adrian cleared his throat, and the entire room quieted.

Lothander turned. The harlot gasped, and Lothander shoved her away. "So that fool Marek found a way around his geas to help you, did he?"

Adrian shrugged. "You'll never know."

Lothander surprised them by beginning to cast a spell; he was apparently more than just a thief. But he wasn't fast enough to stop Adrian's crossbow bolt from slamming into his chest. He staggered back, but was not dead; he pulled a bow from his back, obviously magical, and tried to knock an arrow.

But Kagain and Viconia had closed with him by then. He died quickly.

Viconia held up another, slightly larger vial, from the corpse. It had a longer neck, and the fluid within was a glowing gold. She took her share and passed it around, once again leaving Tiax for last.

Adrian felt it happen; he felt easier in his mind, and a weight he hadn't even known was there was lifted from his chest.

Viconia took the bow, admiringly. "We can sell this as well."

Adrian nodded. "Aye, I almost wish Imoen were still amongst us to use it."

"Knowing she's a true sibling changed things, didn't it?" Kagain asked.

"Aye, it did."

The rest of the upper floor clientele of the Blushing Mermaid had already returned to their business; killings weren't that unusual here. Even Lothander's woman of the evening had, after recovering from the initial shock, moved on to another client. It was that sort of place.

"What now?" said Xzar.

"Now? Now we get some sleep. Not here, though. Back at the Elfsong. I don't want to stay here. Lothander may have had friends."

Indeed, once they got downstairs a rather large, vicious, and unsually strong Ogre challenged them. Dispatching him was not easy; Kagain and Adrian were both wounded before he fell. They were challeged no more after that, and returned to the Elfsong.

Adrian told the party, as they returned to their usual haunt, that he had changed his mind; they would not leave the city to kill those Golems, or indeed for any other reason, until they had confronted the Throne. The others agreed unanimously.

Another dream.

Adrian stood in a grey fog, the mists swirling before him. He could feel Bhaal, all around him, watching. Waiting.

The mists cleared a little, and he saw a troupe of undead; ghouls, zombies and skeletons, with zombies being the biggest number. There were about thirty of them. But more importantly, beyond them stood Sarevok, glowing yellow eyes regarding his brother coldly. He was wearing the same armor from that night outside Candlekeep, minus the helm. Adrian could see his bald head; the intricate Bhaal tatoo on his forehead.

"So brother, we meet again, at last," Sarevok said in a deep, resonant voice.

"Yes," agreed Adrian simply. He still wanted to kill Sarevok, of course, but he had learned cunning. "I've cured myself of your pet poison," he said, conversationally.

Sarevok nodded, unsurprised. "I knew you were a worthy foe that night. I had hoped to kill some of your followers at least, epescially the damn Dwarf for not joining me, but if you're already healed, then they all still live. Credit to you. Also, we would not be having this dream now had you not succeeded."

"This dream is different from the others I've had, isn't it," said Adrian.

"I know not what dreams you've had, but I've had my own, and yes, this is somewhat different. For one thing, we're both having it. You can feel our father, can't you?"

"He's observing me."

"Not just you, brother. Us. This is as much a trial for me as you."

Sarevok was standing on a slightly raised platform, a black wall behind him, their father's symbol painted in blood on it.

No more words were exchanged. Sarevok raised his sword in his hands, then slowly pointed it at Adrian. The undead turned, as one, and faced Adrian, and began shambling towards him.

Adrian's first instinct was to pull his sword and fight, but that was what Bhaal would want him to do. So he raised his own hands, and focused his will, trying to push the undead back.

As they began to waver, he felt his father in his mind. This was the second layer of the trap, he realized; Bhaal wanted to control Adrian, as he did Sarevok. He focused on the darkness within, and chained it to his command.

Around them, there was a groan of pain and anger, as Adrian defied Bhaal's will, using his powers for his own purposes instead of his father's. Sarevok's eyes widened.

The power became Adrian's own. Bhaal was dead, a ghost, a spectre. He would not kneel to such a one. He would use the dark for his own reasons, and would not let it use him, as Sarevok did.

He gained control of roughly half the undead. They turned to face the ones Sarevok still controlled, and a bloody battle began. The undead hacked and tore at eachother, trying to rip eachother to pieces.

In the end, the two factions destroyed eachother. Not a single revenant was left standing, just Adrian and Sarevok, staring at eachother.

Bhaal's voice resonated around them, through the mist. It said one word; "STALEMATE."

The mists faded to blackness, and the brothers fell.....

Sarevok woke, with a start, in his complex of rooms below the city. Tamoko was asleep by his side.

New power flowed in his veins; he now had the limited ability to command undead, as an evil cleric would. But his Father was also displeased; Adrian had not bowed to his will.

Sarevok shook his head and sighed. He almost admired Adrian. Certainly he respected him. But if he did not bow to the Father, then there was no point to any of it. He would only die.

He stroked Tamoko's glossy black hair, absently. He almost wished to join forces wiht Adrian. Together, they could destroy all of the other Children, until only the two of them remained. Then it would be a straight contest of war, to inherit their father's Throne. But alas, such a pact was not to be.

Adrian would die. He snuggled up with Tamoko, and difted off to sleep again.

Adrian woke, with a start, in his room in the Elfsong. Viconia was at his side; she blinked sleepily, and looked at him.

New power flowed in his veins; now he could turn undead to his will, as Viconia and Tiax did. He would still need them, of course. But this increased his assets. Bhaal had been furious when he had defied his will, but Adrian cared not for that.

"Another of those dreams?" Viconia asked him sleepily.

"Yes," Adrian agreed, stroking Viconia's silky white hair. "I saw Sarevok. I think I gained some new powers."

Viconia smiled and cuddled up with him. "You are an impressive male," she said, sincerely. "I am pleased to couple with you."

"Thank you, dear," Adrian said dryly, and grinned a little.

He sighed. Sarevok could've been a formidable ally, if only he didn't blindly follow what Bhaal wanted. Doing so only made him a hollow veseel, without a real will or directive of his own. That was the difference between them.

He settled down with Viconia, who put her head on his shoulder. It was a while before he went back to sleep, thinking, planning out strategies.

One of the brothers would win. But which one? The fanatical Sarevok, who blindly served the father? Or himself, master of his own soul, surrounded by allies who knew it was in their own best interest to help him, even Tiax? Adrian hoped it was him, but he was not sure.

His thoughts drifted to Imoen. Those damn fool Harpers must've told her by now. They would have to meet again, to talk at least.

It was some time before he finally drifted back to sleep, secure in Viconia's arms.