Btw, I’ve never written Sarry before and am pretty nervous about how he will come off.
Oh, and Lotta – if you are checking this, you can read safely because Sarry somehow manages not to get killed here. 
Rush Of Blood To The Head, part 7.12.
“Well… that was… entertaining,” I remark as the six of us slowly slump down on the cold stone floor, having returned from our trip to one of those strange dark pits that surround this awkward plane. I look at Imoen as she retrieves four glimmering objects from her leather pouch and looks at them with interest… the so called Tears of Bhaal… and the demons, inhabiting the pits below hinted clearly that they are the key to our exit from this place, the key to unlock the strange gate and face whatever lies beyond it.
“Well, you made it entertaining, simian,” Edwin snorts, “I was not looking forward to face elder orbs and other sorts of beholder-kin, but you just had to be so virtuous, not to accept the obvious solution.”
“Hey, I’m not going to wear a cloak made from nymph skins, that is… simply revolting,” I snarl in response, “even I have my limits to which I will sink, and that was way below those limits.”
“Yeah, shame on you Eddie,” Imoen sticks out her tongue, “everyone knows that nymphs are innocent, beautiful and harmless creatures… how could anyone hurt them?”
“Continue to make such suggestions, Edwin, and the same fate that befell that demon, might occur to you,” Jaheira snorts and Edwin winces, remembering what happened to the hapless demon just a few minutes ago.
“Yes, that fool really ought to think twice before he offered such an offending item to a brave Nature’s Servant like you, my dear,” I chuckle before wrapping my arms around Jaheira’s waist, sitting behind her.
“Hmph, and what is your excuse when you chose not to keep that powerful sword? I told you about its powerful abilities, yet you foolishly gave it away – with such an item the wizard would be a toast in a matter of seconds (after my impeccable magic had softened him up, of course),” Edwin says.
“Well, this one’s easier, Eddie,” I laugh, “see, I don’t know how to fight with a one-handed weapon…”
“You did say that there is a good opportunity that the sword can claim dominance upon its wielder,” Viconia points out, “I doubt that we want a Bhaalspawn who is already finding hard to fight against the dark taint, to be under the influence of an evil sword.”
“There’s not much difference, if you ask me… as of now, the druid is doing all the thinking for him, in any case,” Edwin continues to mock us.
“Stop that, Eddie,” I say, feigning annoyance, “next you will accuse me of being a coward for choosing not to fight the dragon.”
“No, that was a fine decision, lad,” Keldorn says, “Diplomacy is always preferable to the language of swords. Your actions speak of wisdom and I am proud of how you handled the situation… well done, Theodur.”
“Yes, well… maybe cowardice played a bit of a role there, too,” I admit quietly, so that only Jaheira can hear it, but she shakes her head dismissively in reaction to my statement.
“Natural instincts of self-preservation and wisdom as Keldorn says, not cowardice, Theodur,” she notes in a voice that does not allow for any arguing, not that I would desire to.
“And if you plan to suggest that Theo should have left Viconia to die, instead of sacrificing a part of his strength, then I will kick you in the nuts, Eddie!” Imoen exclaims proudly.
“Err… no, I was not planning to suggest anything like that, my little simian (quite the contrary, had he decided not to save her… a fireball in his face, that’s what!)” Edwin replies, “on the other hand… had the demon taken the paladin, I might have suggested a different solution.”
“Oh, stuff it, Eddie, I would have done the same for any of you… yes, even for you, red-robed buffoon,” I laugh at his dumbstruck face expression.
“I could not tell if you had been weakened by that sacrifice,” Jaheira turns to face me, “do you feel any different, weaker?”
“No… I don’t feel any different to be honest… at least not physically weaker,” I reply with a shrug, “I have no idea of what exactly I had to give up… though, I have not been seriously tested since then. Hard for me to say… well, if we manage to get out of here alive, I look forward to you putting me through some… endurance tests…” I whisper to Jaheira and a brief laugh escapes her lips, forcing everyone to look upon us.
“Might I suggest that we move on?” Viconia asks, “I think we have rested enough and there is only one pit remaining… I must admit being curious about what we will find in it.”
“I suppose you’re right, Vic… let’s see what’s inside this one,” I say before rising to my feet.
“Probably yet another demon forcing us to play a stupid, annoying game in order to obtain the necessary Tear,” Edwin sighs, “At least it is the final one before we can open the gate and see observe what is on the other side (there could be all sorts of magical treasure, after all!).”
“When we went closer to the gate, I felt as if… like at the Tree, close to Irenicus and my soul,” I muse as we head towards the last of the pits, “I think he is there, on the other side… perhaps already waiting for us to find our way towards him. It is likely that he cannot return to the world of mortals, either… and he probably needs the reminder of the soul that is still in me.”
“Then we are in for another difficult battle,” Jaheira speaks, walking beside me, “It will be very difficult, but I am sure that we will prevail if we prepare accordingly.”
Slowly we descend down the long winding stairs to end up in a similar place as we have visited four times before, the only exception that we are not greeted by some smart-arsed demon upon our entrance. This room looks almost empty, save for one distinct figure, sitting on some sort of an outgrowth in the ground, his head bowed low and hands rest on the hilt of the sword he holds in front of him. As we step closer, I realize that I once knew a person who wore an armor, just as ridiculous as this, all covered in silly spikes.
“So we meet again,” I know that deep bass, the distinct voice that addresses me, “How fitting that our reunion should be in this place of retribution.”
“Sarevok?” Imoen, Jaheira and I exclaim simultaneously.
“Yes, it is I. Or perhaps an echo… My essence joined that of our dead father after you murdered me, after all… but in the end, this is where all the Children of Bhaal end up,” Sarevok looks upon us as we come closer to surround him in a half circle, “So, you have four of them already. That was very quick… I see you have gathered an efficient army of fools. And no doubt, now you are looking for the fifth.”
“But if this is the place where all the Children end up after death… then… am I dead for good, or is there a way back?” I inquire tentatively, “No, we are not chained to this place, if that would be the case then my friends wouldn’t have joined me here. There is a way out, isn’t there? And the mage stands between us and the way out.”
“Of course, fool. He is facing similar tests to yours, as we speak, preparing to face you,” Sarevok snarls.
“So you’ve got what we need to escape this place, Sarevok?” Imoen pipes up, somewhere behind me, “That would be the fifth Tear, right? Well, hand it over then!”
“No, I will not give it to you. You do not deserve it,” Sarevok grins evilly, ignoring that there are six fully armed people, brandishing their weapons in his general direction.
“What makes you think that you are in a position to place judgement on me, and what I do or do not deserve, Sarevok?” I snort, knowing that as powerful as he is, we have the advantage in numbers, “If you do not hand it over… we can simply take it from you with force.”
“Ha! I am in excellent position to place the judgment on you. Rule of this realm was rightfully mine, and had I spitted you on my blade as easily as that pathetic wizard, Gorion, our positions would be reversed now!” Sarevok’s voice booms through this confined space and the eerie effect as it resonates is creating a terribly unsettling atmosphere.
“Yes, ‘had you spitted’, Sarevok,” I reply, gripping the hilt of my sword, “but you didn’t, did you? We killed you before… do you want us to do it again?”
“Ah, yes. Stoke that infernal wrath of yours. I can feel the anger within you, boiling like a pit of sulphur in the crevices of your heart. You feel it, do you not? The irresistible call of our dead father,” Sarevok speaks with a voice of superiority, “You have tasted the power, became the Slayer… but do you know how to use it? Show me, brother… summon your wrath for me… if you can.”
“I don’t need the power of the Slayer to defeat you, ghost,” I bark at him, “and you know full well that if I was to give into the taint, I would kill not only you, but all those in this room. The taint is like a dangerous plague, I wish nothing to do with it.”
“Fool! I can teach you how to use your wrath. You can control and direct the taint at anyone you please! You can become the weapon of murder that you were meant to be!” the only effect of Sarevok’s words is to convince me that his insanity has not been only temporary and he is still as mad as a hare in the month of Ches.
“You, imbecile! You were never worthy of the gifts offered to you!” Sarevok continues his ranting, “What galls me most was how indifferent you looked, even as those few stray arrows and the sword of that elven lackey of yours managed a few lucky slashes, preventing me from claiming the destiny THAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN MINE! I did see no wrath and no wish to avenge your stepfather, no wish to become the famed hero of Baldur’s Gate, nothing!”
“Even as you killed me, you looked as apathetic as if you did not care! And all that after I destroyed everything you cared for, your precious Gorion, plundered the lives of innocent in your Candlekeep! How dared you not wanting to kill me!” Sarevok raves in anger, trying to provoke me into attacking him, but I am a bit too clever for such trick… not even the mention of Gorion able to create any definable amount of rage within me.
Instead, it is Jaheira, who charges at him enraged and Sarevok barely manages to deflect the blow of her scimitar, before quickly countering with a vicious swing and Jaheira quickly raises her shield to deflect it. At this very moment I forget everything about fair fight and jump in to help out Jaheira and Viconia follows me. Sarevok lands another blow, which leaves a huge dent in Jaheira’s shield and knocks her on the ground, and now we pounce upon my mad brother, Viconia crushing his kneecap with her mace and Sarevok staggers from the pain, I deliver a massive blow from above against his sword and knock it out of his hand, as his concentration has gone due to the broken knee. The next moment, a scimitar and a sword point are pressed against his unprotected neck, while Viconia is prepared to crush his other knee…
“Surely, you wouldn’t be as suicidal and insist on fighting on, Sarevok?” I smirk, “now hand it over and you may live… or… whatever is that you are doing on this weird plane.”
“NO! I will not hand it over to you! You will have to take it with force!” he bellows, not blinking an eye, and I have to wonder whether he really is so stubbornly brave or is he simply mad.
“Relax you guys, I have it!” Imoen emerges from behind Sarevok, holding last of the Tears in her hand, “you really should know better, Sarry… with such a masterful rogue around, you just have to make sure that your valuables are well hidden…” she chirps.
“YOU… TWIT! How dare you?” Sarevok bellows, mad from anger.
“Good, everyone, move to the exit,” I command, “Jaheira and I will hold him until you are in safety.” My friends turn and leave as quickly as possible and Jaheira and I start slowly retreating backwards, towards the exit, maintaining the eye contact with the powerful warrior for the whole time. I pick up his sword on our way in order to prevent him from undertaking something inconsiderate.
“We will meet again, brother… I am sure of it,” he snarls, “and you will not get out of our next meeting as lightly as you did this time! I swear, I will kill you yet, worm!”
“I doubt that, Sarevok,” I say in return, “you see, once we are out of here, I don’t plan to return… really this is not the place I would like to visit. Unless, of course you spend your time in decorating it somehow… and it looks like you’ll have plenty of time.”
“Your threats are meaningless, phantom. If we are indeed to meet again, I promise that you will not survive the encounter… you can count on it, so I swear on Gorion’s memory,” Jaheira promises as we turn around and return to join our friends with all haste.
The (unofficial) final episode of the SoA part, including the final fight, is scheduled for Sunday evening. Stay tuned for the final decider and you can also place your bets – btw, William Hill have Irenicus at slightly better odds.
