Makings of a Monster

Cythandria sat on the divan, brushing her golden hair. She was pondering the situation with Sarevok. He had promptly taken over the Throne, which had angered most everyone in the organisation. It was in a state of chaos, and people were enraged at how Sarevok used Throne as his personal army and gave squat about the mercantile matters. Still, the military was adamantly loyal to him, as was the public impressed by his personal magnetism and the security he provided in the brink of war.

Cythandria knew Sarevok would be crowned the next day, and then he would launch his plan. She intended to be the greatest of the new priesthood of the Lord of Murder, and was confident in her ability to manipulate Sarevok into doing what she wanted him to do. So far her control over the man had not been as perfect as she would have liked, but she had encouraged him to pursue his path. She was displeased that he kept going back to Tamoko, but surely in time he would ditch her, realising which one of them had to been loyal to his plans.

This was a gamble, as there were plenty of influential people very displeased with Sarevok. But Cythandria had that figured out too. She had stolen Sarevok's diary along with his incriminating correspondence with the doppleganger assassins and could claim to have been spying on him and intending to expose him all the time. She would be the winner either way. She smiled, pleased with herself, when someone rushed into her chambers without knocking.

A warrior woman, her reddish-brown hair blazing, followed by a curious band of misfits. This was the sibling who had caused so much trouble to Sarevok. Cythandria felt a flutter of fear, but talked in contemptuous tone.
- "What are you doing here? You shouldn't have come back, you know... but I'm surprised that you didn't go straight after Sarevok."
- "Someone advised us to come here," said Peri, eyes intense with dislike.
- "Who... oh. Tamoko," Cythandria spat. "I always knew she was a traitorous whore! Never knew what Sarevok saw in that loser... but it matters little. I'm not completely without protection... and once I kill you I'll become his favourite lover!"
She launched a spell trigger and summoned two huge ogres, starting to sling spells at the crazy-looking mage in the back.

A dwarven priest started to chant, and Peri and a huge warrior were occupied with trying to hack another ogre to pieces. A pink-haired girl fired arrows at Cythandria, one of which interrupted her spellcasting. Another of the ogres managed to slam Peri on her knees, but as he proceeded to hit her again, the giant of a man run him through, finishing him. Suddenly a halfling, wearing a dark armor, materialized from the dark corner and hit the other ogre in back, and the warriors attacked the already weakened creature. The dwarven priest approached Cythandria, and from the corner of her eye he saw the ogre dying, realizing she was fighting a losing battle.

- "W... wait! Hold on...! I don't want to die. Please, let me go and I give you all the documentation you need to nail Sarevok," said Cythandria, her voice quivery and weak.
Peri looked at her with utter contempt.
- "I really don't like cowardly, opportunistic bitches like you. I think Faerun won't be any worse off when I kill you."
Before her sword cut through Cythandria's neck, the mage woman had time to talk.
- "No mercy? You and Sarevok are just alike."

Sarevok was polishing his armor, preparing for the coronation ceremony. Winski was reminded of paladins and of how they supposedly polished their shiny armors every day. He felt like chuckling, but repressed it. Sarevok was so touchy nowadays that it was better not to laugh at him at all. No matter. If the plan went through, he would be a god this time tomorrow. Sarevok's armor was pretty hideous, but Winski had already sort of gotten used to it. And the man himself, though Winski still thought of him as a boy or son, was imposing and handsome. Winski had briefly considered wearing a robe in the ceremony, but decided that it was too late to start now. His best black attire would do nicely. This was the great moment, and he had no idea what would follow. He hadn't given it thought during the years.

- "What about Tamoko?" asked Sarevok, a tiniest flash of the human in him flashing in his eyes.
- "She won't come. She will wait in the Bhaal temple," told Winski. Tamoko had slept late and shared with him the details of Reiltar's death. Sarevok would hear the story later.
- "I wish she was more enthusiastic about it," sighed Sarevok.
- "She'll come around," said Winski without conviction, and they both were quiet for a moment.

- "I am honored to be here before such a respected assemblage of noblemen," snarled Sarevok, quoting his coronation speech. "Respected! They are leeches, born into unearned privilege, the snotty bastards... and as for respect, whole the Ordulin respected Reiltar. Everywhere I go I see mediocre souls, cowards, greedy and stupid individuals."
Winski made a noncommittal shrug. Such rants were more and more common now that Sarevok was wallowing in his hostile madness. The anger he felt about the general condition of mankind seemed to be some sort of defence mechanism. It doesn't matter, told Winski himself. He was puzzled about why he wasn't more excited about being this close to achieving their dream. He almost wished he could turn the time back and make some other choices. But if there ever was pointless wallowing, it was this. Winski supposed he would feel the triumph and satisfaction once the goal was actually achieved.

- "Let's go. This is the day," said Sarevok the beast. His eyes were narrow, his smile confident and cold.