Cards Reshuffled

As horrifying as it is with a foe reveling in his or her own evil deeds, there are things worse still. For example, one who is able to hide his nature, and use subterfuge against you. And the worst enemy of all, the one able to create the greatest amount of misery, is one who is convinced of his own ultimate goodness and has the power of tyranny to back it up.

Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’

The blood was exquisite. Bodhi savored the full, rich taste, taking a heady delight in it. Sweet, sweet blood, the taste of life itself, rushing into her mouth past her fangs, filling her throat with delicious warmth. Her victim for tonight was a young man, a poor fool who had wandered into the graveyard at night and would never wander out again. He had pretty blue eyes, now glazed and almost lifeless, soft brown hair and suntanned skin, now paler than it had ever been. He had a fine young body, nicely muscular, and his feeble struggles in her arms had been very amusing. Ah, yes. A fine hunt it was. She had chased him all over the dark city of the dead, played with him and taunted him, now and then letting him think he was about to get away, then appearing on top of a crypt or behind an old tomb, smiling at him with her fangs clearly visible. Finally, when he had been almost to the exit, the mist had risen up about him, and he had been caught in her cold embrace.

And now the lovely young prey was in her arms, his heart pumping the last of his lifeblood more and more slowly, with ever weakening beats. Soon enough, it would cease to beat altogether. Bodhi sucked a little harder at the twin wounds in the youth’s throat, eager to draw out the very last of that delightful blood. Soon now…soon. The moment came, the heart ceased to beat, and she thought she could almost feel the life rush into her along with the blood. The hunt was but the foreplay, but the moment of death was when she could almost feel like the Bodhi she had been before, the one who had lived completely in every given moment, who had felt. The Bodhi who had been before. Before the Curse.

The vampire hissed quietly as she raised her head from the wound, letting the corpse slide to the ground. She licked her lips, feeling the last of the blood tickle her tongue. Her eyes glowed red in the dark of her bedroom as she spotted the warm human body near the door. So, her slave had come again. Almost a pity she was already full…his blood had a nice taste, a little exotic. “Yoshimo…” she purred, gliding towards the bounty hunter. “How nice of you to come to visit me.”

The bounty hunter’s smooth face remained impassive, but her eyes were far keener than those of a human, and she could see the slight tension of his jaw, as well as the almost imperceptible sheen of sweat on his forehead.

“You summoned me,” he stiffly said. He didn’t add, ‘And so I had no choice.’ They both knew that was the truth.

“Why Yoshimo!” Bodhi said, grinning hungrily. “I’m almost beginning to suspect that you don’t want to be here…poor boy, do I frighten you that badly?” Quick as lightning, she pounced on the man, holding him tightly in her arms, and then she slowly and with great abandon let her cold pink tongue dart out, licking her way along his throat. She could feel him shudder at her touch, and idly she wondered if it was desire or revulsion. Perhaps both. It did not matter. “What have you to tell me?” she asked, abandoning her seductive tones for a colder, more business-like voice that never failed to take people by surprise.

“I have kept track of the Avariel, as you ordered,” Yoshimo said. “She is staying in the Government District, and she seems to have found herself a noble patron. What she plans apart from that is still unknown to me.”

“Well, keep on watching her! Mind that you don’t let her see you though, or you’ll most likely be found dead in the gutter, minus a few important body parts. And what of the other one?”

Yoshimo spoke reluctantly this time, as if he had to force the words between his lips. “I spotted Zaerini from a distance this afternoon. She has just returned to Athkatla.”

“Excellent. Perhaps it will soon be a good time to approach her openly…but let us wait and see a little while yet.” Bodhi suddenly frowned. The thief looked far too impassive for her liking. “There is something you are withholding, slave,” she coldly said, running her sharp nail along his jaw. “I don’t like that. Speak, while you still have a tongue to speak with.”

This time it was definitely revulsion that made Yoshimo shudder. “It is about one of her companions,” he explained. “The wizard…”

Bodhi listened, and as she did her smile widened. This sounded as if it might certainly turn out to be useful.

Aerie concentrated, making her rosy lips tremble and a few tears well up into her eyes. “And…and then they j-just abandoned me in the street. I…I g-guess I must have been too weak again…but I only ever w-wanted to be nice and make them like me. How…how can people act like that? So…so callously?”

The man sitting next to her on the comfortable pink couch frowned deeply, his one bushy eyebrow contorting itself like a mating caterpillar. “Call-ass-ly? What’s that mean? It’s got something to do with ass?” He guffawed. “You said ‘ass’! Hehn Hehn!”

Great Mistress Loviatar, I so adore an idiot. Unfortunately, I still want to strangle him with his own drooling tongue.

Young Fedric Eckel did indeed have an unfortunate tendency to drool, caused by a combination of rampant hormones and a pea-sized brain. He was by far more stupid than his elder brother Lord Logum Eckel, not a mean feat at all. In fact, Aerie suspected that the greatest intellectual challenge young Fedric had ever faced had been potty training, and she rather suspected that it had been a great strain. He was a shrimp-like young man, so skinny that you could hardly see him if you watched him from the side, and though he didn’t have an exactly ugly face as such, the dull and cow-like look in his eyes made Aerie want to claw them out and make him eat them. The fact that he was a complete physical weakling hadn’t kept him from convincing himself that he was a muscle-bound stud. He had covered the walls in his rooms with paintings of sweating gladiators with bulging pectorals and bicepses, and he was happy in the delusion that he looked just like them, and very contemptuous of all ‘lesser’ males. But off-putting as he was, he had his uses as a wealthy young noble who would increase her circle of power to encompass his friends in addition to those of his brother.

“N-no…” Aerie made herself stutter. “I meant that they were…that they were mean to me!”

Fedric digested this for about three minutes, his eyes glassy and his lips moving. “No good!” he finally pronounced. “You’re good and pretty. I can tell. I’m great judge of char-act-ter. Those people…bet they’re really ugly! And stupid!” He beamed at her, impressed with his own cleverness.

Takes one to know one. “Um…I…I guess so,” Aerie said. “So…where are we g-going tonight? You said something about…about ch-cheering me up? A break from your brother’s exercises?”

“Oh yeah!” Fedric said with a wide grin. “Thought we’d go down to Execution Square…three pieces of thieving evil scum up for being torn to chunky bits by horses tied to ‘em with chains! That’ll be fun! We can cheer an’ gloat an’ throw eggs an’ stuff! They’ll scream lots, and if we’re lucky they cry too, but then they sort of just go splat. That’s the best bit.”

“Oh!” Aerie exclaimed, trying to sound shocked. “That…that sounds so h-horrid! But…but I s-suppose they are very w-wicked people?”

“’Course!” Fedric winked at her, grinning. “It’s all right, I know women are weak and scare easy, not like strong men like me. I’ll protect you!” He flexed his upper arm, making a biceps the size of a walnut strain to become visible through his shirt.

“I’ll c-come then,” Aerie said, fluttering her eyelashes. “As l-long as they are really wicked people I s-suppose it’s all right.” And as long as they scream delightfully. Finally an evening’s good entertainment, even if the company is that of a complete and utter bore. I can’t wait to see the blood… She smiled, contemplating the sweet screams of the dying, and her face took on a dreamy, faraway look.

The screams of the interrogated woman subsided into quiet whimpers, and the Oluanna nodded quietly to herself, giving the signal for the Web of Pain to be temporarily lifted. “I am sorry this has to be, sister,” she honestly said, gently wiping the bound woman’s face. “Will you not recant? Surely there is no need for all this foolishness?”

The woman bound to the table was weighted down with heavy chains, augmented with magic, that cut into her skin. Her dress was torn by invisible whips, her body covered with sweat, her face swollen and discolored. “Never!” she breathed, trying to spit the other woman in the face. The only thing she managed to spit out was a tooth. “Never! I will fight you with every breath of life left in me, for what you have done to the Wychlaran, for what you would do with Rasheman!”

The Oluanna shook her head, brown braids swaying. She felt true sorrow at hearing these delusional rantings. “Poor sister,” she said. “You are mistaken, confused. In your heart, you must know that I act only in the best interests of the Wychlaran…and of the rest of Rasheman of course, for what is good for the Wychlaran is certainly what is good for Rasheman. It grieves me that you cannot see this, that you refuse to join me in building the beautiful world ahead.”

“Your ‘beautiful world’ is a prison! A zoo!” The woman on the table yanked in vain at her chains once again, her swollen and bruised face twisted up with anger and fear. “When I first learnt of your plans I could not believe it. I did not want to believe it. But now…and then I found out about the things you and those who came before you had already done, the changes. You are insane, drunk on your own glory, and you will be the death of us all!”

The Oluanna felt tears rising in her eyes, and she clasped her hands in front of her, in order to remain serene. “I seek no glory!” she said. “I seek only to serve, and to protect us all from danger. I am the one best equipped to do so, and it is therefore my duty. And I will let nothing interfere with that duty.” Her voice turned cold as she steeled herself to do what she had to. This was her sister in front of her, in spirit if not in blood, but her duty was clear. “The Law is clear. Disobedience breeds rebellion, anarchy, and death, putting innocent lives at risk. Therefore…disobedience merits death. Sisters…end it.” The group of purple-robed Witches around the table obeyed instantly, never hesitating. The bound woman spasmed once, then was still. My poor sister…if only I could have made you see the truth. Justice…virtue…order…these things are greater than any of us. They demand that we make sacrifices.

Once she returned to her quarters, the Oluanna sat down in her favorite armchair, and closed her eyes for a moment. In the birdcage next to the chair, Piri, her nightingale, was singing a sweet and melancholy tune. Though she usually kept the cage locked, she had made certain that the bird’s wings were clipped for safety’s sake. She did not want to run the risk of him escaping, getting hurt. Yet the bird was refusing both food and water, and his song was faltering. She would need to get a new one soon. I will protect him well, as I will my people. I am the Oluanna, the Chosen One, and it is my duty to do so. I will protect them all.

She unrolled the letter she had received this morning, reading it through again. She had never met Serenstina Tershar, but she knew that the woman was one of the Wychlaran’s finest agents, and she had no reason to doubt her word, though the subordinate Witch had no idea who would be the ultimate recipient of it.

A Wychlaran agent was missing, presumed dead. There was nothing odd about that, not in itself. The world was a dangerous place, after all. But this particular agent, this ‘Dynaheir’ wasn’t just any agent. She was an agent who had just happened to be sent after one of those…Bhaalspawn. A Bhaalspawn called ‘Zaerini of Candlekeep’. Whether it was the evil creature herself who had killed the agent was unclear, but she would undoubtedly have something to do with it. I will not allow these fiends to tear the world asunder! They are a threat, and they will be dealt with. Permanently. This particular Bhaalspawn seemed to be a powerful one, from Serenstina Tershar’s account, and that made her even more dangerous. And that wasn’t all, either.

The Oluanna rolled the letter up again, frowning. Serenstina had been phrasing herself vaguely, despite using code, but her message had been clear. Both parts of it. The first part concerned young Dynaheir, and the Bhaalspawn. The second part…the second part concerned the odd experience that Serenstina herself had recently had, when she had awoken with no memory at all of having gone to sleep, and an odd hole in her memory. It could have been natural sleep, but that was doubtful. Scryings had turned up nothing, nothing apart from shadows.

Shadows… The Oluanna frowned again, her mouth tightening. She was good at Divination, very much so, and so she judged that it might at least be worth making an attempt. She chanted the scrying spell, focusing on the letter in front of her. Yes. There was something there. Nothing clear, the shadows were obscuring almost the entire scene. Yet one of the shadows was different…vaguely humanoid. She could make out no features, no details, but she knew who that had to be, knew it as certainly as she knew her own name. The Wraith. This has gone on far too long. It is high time we did something about that one.

As she let the spell dissolve, the odd silence in the room attracted her attention, and she turned her head towards the birdcage. It seemed that it was indeed time to get another bird. She honestly couldn’t fathom why they kept dying despite her best efforts to take good care of them.