Cards Reshuffled

Wards can be very powerful, whether purely magical ones, or the kind that a person sets around his secrets and deepest soul for protection. Yet all wards may fail, given enough time and leverage, leverage applied by the proper person.

Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’

There was a momentary lull in the battle. Sarevok marched in the legions of the Damned, beneath a sky that rained hot blood from jagged wounds in reality. The ground in this particular part of the Abyss was constantly moist, the blood having seeped so deeply into it that it was completely saturated. The tall warrior momentarily turned his head to gaze towards the dark mountains in the distance, ringed by flickering flames of an unspeakable white. There was something wrong with them…they kept flickering in and out of sight, and it was very hard to judge the distance to them. Still, it was something to look at, other than the blooded earth.

There were things that lived on this level too, things that were so alien that it actually hurt your soul to look at them. And that will not do. Not when my soul is all of me that is left. For example, there had been the teeming herds of hundreds of white, legless fat creatures, mindlessly capering beneath the hostile sky. They had almost looked like worms or larvae…right up until the point when Sarevok had noticed the stubs that had once been arms and legs, the drooling mouths and vacant eyes. Perhaps they had once been human, sentient beings with dreams and hopes, and lives of their own. Now…they were cattle. He had watched as some of the chortling demons commanding him and the other damned souls separated a few of the…things…from the herd, spitted them on their swords and laughed about it. The loud squeals of the dying ones had echoed in his thoughts for days afterwards. Or was it weeks? Time in the Abyss was a very uncertain matter. Then there had been the fires…and the smell of roasting meat. And then…

I had no choice. They commanded us, and would have destroyed those who disobeyed. To them…we are cattle too. One day they will learn differently, and I will return to life and power. One day, in some way. But for now, I must stay alive…existing. I will not have my essence destroyed over something unimportant like the fate of a few mindless beasts. I have done worse, during my life, worse than simply protecting myself. Golden eyes turned distant for a moment. And yet…should I find myself alive at this very moment, a splendid feast laid out before me, I would certainly pass on the pork. The firm jaw tensed, muscles contracting beneath bronzed skin. How dare they force me, Sarevok, into doing that? I am the spawn of Murder, I would have drenched the Sword Coast in blood. But that was all by my own choice! I took what I wanted and paid for it, am still paying for it. Nothing like being prodded into vile acts by the demonic slavering hordes, simply for their…their amusement!

Oh no, big bro? The lightly teasing feminine voice echoed suddenly within the large warrior’s mind, causing him to blink with surprise.

Little sister? Here? No, that is impossible! She yet lives, I would know it if her flame had been extinguished. Yet the voice of the redheaded half-elf had been quite unmistakable.

It’s me all right. The voice sounded a bit amused, but there was sadness beneath. Why this should be, he did not know, and the thought filled him with anger. He should know! He should know everything there was to know about her, every secret of her soul, because…because… The thought trailed off. For a moment he had known something, had seen it clearly, but now it was gone again.

How can this be?

It’s hard to explain…this isn’t all of me, you know. The greater part of me has no idea I’m even here. But I am always here with you, big bro. I always was, ever since the beginning, though you wouldn’t let yourself admit it. She…the rest of me…doesn’t know either.

Doesn’t know what? Sarevok edged his hand closer to his sword, ignoring the hostile and suspicious glares of the Blood War warriors marching next to him. If this is some trick, if you are a fiend sent to torment me with my sister’s voice, then take warning! Sarevok will not stand for trickery, and it will be met with the edge of my blade, destroying every last spark of your essence. And believe me, my laughter will echo between the hills as I rend you asunder, reveling in your ultimate destruction!

Glad to see you still have some spunk! The voice turned more serious. This place could well destroy you, given enough time, and I won’t let that happen if I can help it. I am me, not a demon, and I need you, just as much as you need me.

I need nobody. I do as I wish, and regret nothing.

No? What about that poor thing you were just thinking about? Thought for certain I sensed some regret there? And him you didn’t even know.

What is that supposed to mean?

Look brother, you weren’t quite right before. You made your choices, yes. They weren’t entirely your own though…our dear old Daddy was nudging you along every step of the way, wasn’t he? And you didn’t have my luck when it came to resisting. Not all the fault is yours, only part of it. But yes, part of it was you, and you’ve decided that you deserve to be punished for it.

I never said that!

You don’t have to. In a way, I know you better than you know yourself. So, where was I? Yeah. Punishment. But for a punishment to be worth anything it has to have meaning, and you still haven’t allowed yourself to remember more than a fraction of what you’ve done. How can you ever regret the fates of faceless strangers when you won’t even let yourself remember the faces you used to love? Or admit what you did to them?

Sarevok suddenly shivered as his sister’s words echoed through him. I do not know of what you speak, and I will have no more of this!

It isn’t really me doing anything, you know. It’s all you. You’re just using this part of me to tell you what you know deep down already. Like I said, the rest of me doesn’t even know you’re talking to me. But she does know about what happened to Winski…and Tamoko. How is it that you do not?

NO! Sarevok’s mental cry was the roar of an angered beast. Say no more!

All right then. But think about one thing, big bro. If you really regret nothing…then why are you afraid of remembering? I’ll go now…I’ll be back when next you call me. The flickering presence of his sister faded from his consciousness, until he could sense it no longer, departing with an almost imperceptible caress of his cheek. For a few moments Sarevok stared into empty space, and the look in his glittering golden eyes was one of loss and of longing. Then he marched on, along with the Legion of the Damned. There was a new strength and firmness of purpose in his steps, and his face was filled with grim resolve.

Elsewhere, all was calm, dark and still. Irenicus ran his mind through its regular exercises, with the graceful ease of a rider putting a magnificent horse through its paces. Control. Absolute control. A cell he might be in, but that could only imprison his body. Aided by the darkness and solitude of the holding cell, his mind roamed free.

With careful precision the wizard once again began testing the different wards imprisoning him. Still they held, but they would not do so eternally. Nothing of this world lasts forever, not even The People. I will not allow myself to be caged in a prison of flesh, decaying, rotting. Eventually, I will have what I deserve, what I have already paid for. Ah, She never knew what a mistake she made, did she? She cut me loose from everything that might have helped anchor me here, in the mud, with the animals. He who has nothing to lose will gladly risk everything for one small chance at ultimate triumph. And mine is now a very real chance. With a partially divine soul, I will be able to direct the flows of power with greater purpose than before, shaping them to my will as I failed to do before. Yet, there are other matters to attend to first.

Escaping this cell would be the first of those matters of course. Yes, the wards still held…but something had changed. His mind probed delicately. One of them was shifting…altering subtly. Ah. I am to have a visitor, it seems. Interesting.

Time passed, and Irenicus waited patiently. Eventually the door, and he closed his door well before that, not wishing to irritate his eyes, grown used to darkness, apart from the dull red glow of his own bodyheat. The flash of light across closed eyelids was still somewhat painful, but it could be handled. One wonders how it would feel if the eyes were forced open on purpose? I will keep it in mind, in case further experiments are needed once the Bhaalspawn is recaptured.

“Hello, Coordinator Wanev,” Irenicus said dispassionately, not opening his eyes. A sharp intake of breath, easily caught by his sensitive ears confirmed his suspicion. The fool. Does he think sight is everything? His footsteps are unmistakable, with that shuffling gait of his, right leg dragging slightly. And so is his hair oil…very distinctive and most likely cheap. Not putrid enough to mask the stench of his fear though. Or his…need? Yes. Need. He wishes something of me. Fear and need. Perfect.

“How did you know it was me?” the man outside the cell door asked. Anger in the voice, but the apprehension was clear.

“I know many things, Coordinator Wanev. And as my…keeper…you are naturally of some interest to me.” Just the tiniest hint of a sneer to the cold voice, enough to put the man even further off balance.

The breathing in front of him grew even louder, more frantic. So ludicrously simple to read.

“I…what do you…”

“You are checking your wards now, Coordinator Wanev. Do not worry. They are in place. For now.” And now he will be wondering for how long, and that will make him even more insecure…may be enough to make him make a mistake. Now count the heartbeats. One…two…three…four…five. Irenicus allowed his eyes to snap open, making certain he stared directly into the mesmerized dark ones of the Coordinator, focusing the full force of his cold sapphire gaze on the man in front of him. “Why have you come here, Coordinator Wanev? What does the Master of Spellhold wish?” Master of Spellhold…not for long now, I think. And on some level I believe he almost knows it. He noticed the Coordinator glancing uncertainly at the mask, clearly bothered by its emotionless and smooth face.

“I want to know who you are!” the Coordinator said, his face flushed with embarrassed anger. “How is it that you are able to withstand every test I device? How is it that you sit in this holding cell, calm and unbroken? What is the full extent of your power, and how did you come by it?”

Not only anger and fear, but greed. I have him now. After some deliberation Irenicus molded the lips of the mask into a faintly mocking smile. Yes, that should be about right. “Tit for tat, Coordinator Wanev. Tit for tat.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Smell of sweat, thick with apprehension. Rasping breath. He is…worried. Yes. Worried.

“If you wish me to tell you something, Coordinator, then for every question you ask I will ask you one in return.”

“I…what questions?”

“Is that your first question, Coordinator?”

“No! No, I didn’t mean that!”

“Very well, Coordinator. In that case I shall not answer it. Are you ready to carry on with our conversation?”

The Coordinator nodded briskly, eyes glittering eagerly.

“Well then, Coordinator. As my first question, I will require news of the girl captured along with me. Where she is kept, how she is coping, what she says and does. Answer me that, and I will answer you in return.”

Wanev hesitated only a few seconds. Then he began speaking, slowly at first, but with ever increasing speed until the words almost tumbled across his lips.

Irenicus sat motionless on the floor of his cell, hands folded in his lap, legs crossed beneath him. Listening. Memorizing. My dear Coordinator Wanev, your wards are failing already…and the first one to fail is you.