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Heritage of Evil:Betrayals
"Stop playing with your hair," whispered the dark-haired elf to his companion as they walked along a well-travelled dirt road. "I assure you it looks lovely, Shann."
"That's Kalina, Coran," she hissed back. "How many times do I have to remind you this is not a game? Do not use my name."
"I know very well this is not a game," he replied in a dour voice, and then winked when Shann looked at him suspiciously. "It's an adventure," he added, grinning.
This was a mistake, Shann groaned as she plodded after her cheerful companion. Why did I think Coran would be a useful ally? Oh yes, because he was a skilled enough thief for the Beregost thieves to notice him, but smart enough not to cross the guild. He's unbelievably good with a bow, too.
Unbidden, her hand strayed to her recently cropped hair again, and with a curse she tore her hand away and gripped her belt tightly. I feel naked, she thought, and suppressed the urge to cover her pointed ears with a hood. I am a half-elf, and proud of it, she reminded herself. No one will recognize me as the 'human' woman who worked for Sarevok.
Coran whistled happily as they approached the stockade surrounding the entrance to the Cloakwood mines. "Do cheer up, Kalina," he said. "This was your idea, after all. Though I must admit, fighting against wicked tyranny is much more exciting than my previous work as an animal exterminator."
"Wyvern hunting is not quite the same as rat catching. I'm not sure how much more of this excitement I can stand, though," Shann said as she stepped too close to the edge of the road and her foot sank ankle deep in the mud. She sighed and moved to the center of the path, thankful that they were near the end of their journey. Charming, she thought as she gazed ahead at the muddy water flowing under the crude bridge that lay across the deep moat encircling the Cloakwood enclave.
"Who are you?" a bored voice called out from behind a high wood fence that paralleled the path of the moat.
"Coran and Kalina, archers hired by Lonell to join your garrison," Coran answered, waving a parchment in the air. Authentic recruitment papers for the Cloakwood garrison that Tamoko had sent to Shann.
"More unlucky sods who signed on in the grips of drunken dreams," the guard muttered as he unlatched the gate and waved them in. "Th' captain's in the barracks, first door on the right. Go on in an' introduce yerselves."
"My thanks, soldier," Coran grinned, and waved jauntily as he strolled towards the barracks.
They were accepted by the garrison, a motley collection of mercenaries ranging from young farmers on their first trip away from home, to hardened veterans with the look of men amazed to still be alive. They greeted Coran's cheerfulness with warnings that he would soon become dour given the dreariness of the work, but were quick to befriend him once he proved a deft hand at cards and tale-telling. Shann they accepted, and dismissed, quickly when she proved to already be dour and untalkative.
The flamboyant Coran drew all the attention of the guards, and they did not notice when his quieter companion took to disappearing from the barracks when not on duty. Shann prowled the upper levels of the mines, learning the layouts (and rifling the guards' personal belongings for hidden treasures) while Coran learned what he could from both the guards and the slaves.
Coran was assigned to patrol the outside perimeter of the mines, a duty that included hunting forays to stock the kitchens. The elf proved to be the best at both stalking and killing prey. A few friendly duels during off hours showed Coran's prowess at hand-to-hand fighting too. This earned him the respect, and attention, of the other guards.
"You're a decent fighter," a small, shifty-eyed guard said to Coran one night after he won a duel against two opponents.
"The best," Coran agreed, grinning.
"You treat the slaves with courtesy," the guard continued, after checking to be sure there was no one listening to their conversation. "You don't care much for slavery, do you?"
"Well, I wouldn't have taken this position if I'd known," Coran said, and then shrugged. "But what can I do about it?"
"Alone? Not much," the guard whispered. "Come to the tunnel north of the slaves' quarters after lockdown tonight. Bring your companion, Kalina, if she's of the same mind about slavery as you."
"We'll be there," Coran said.
What Coran and Shann found at the far end of the tunnel, was a gathering of both guards and slaves. "This is interesting," Coran said, blinking at the crowd that moved to surround him and Shann.
"Can they be trusted?" a slave asked the guard who had invited Coran.
"As well as any," he answered.
"I'm guessing you're planning a rebellion," Coran said cheerfully. "Sounds like a fight I'd like to be a part of. Who are you, and what's the plan?"
Most of the guards had joined the garrison without knowing they would be overseeing slaves, and some were dismayed by their new jobs, but could not break the contracts they had signed. A group of slaves, led by a merchant named Rill, who was captured by bandits and sent to the mines when they were first re-opened, had formed an alliance with some of the disgruntled guards to find a way to free the slaves.
"So you see, Coran," Rill said after detailing their escape plans. "We can get the slaves out, but can find no way to kill the master of the mines, Davaeorn. He is a powerful mage, and as long as he lives any escape attempt would be doomed to fail. He would undoubtedly recapture us all, and any who aid us would wind up working alongside us in the mines."
"Then you want us to eliminate Davaeorn for you," Coran said lightly. He stole a furtive look at Shann, who gave him an almost imperceptible nod. "A task we're more than up to, I'm sure. We'll be glad to help you."
"What about afterwards?" Shann said as the conspirators thanked Coran.
"Afterwards?" Rill repeated.
"Your plan will free the slaves that are here now, but as long as the mines stay open, the Iron Throne will find more slaves to work them," she explained. "I want to close the Cloakwood Mines permanently."
"I suppose we could try collapsing all the tunnels," Coran said with scant enthusiasm. "It's a daunting task, however, and I'm not sure it will be possible."
"The dwarves who first made the mines were flooded out when they breached an underground river. It took years of work to dam the river and drain the mines," one of the older slaves stated. "You could destroy the plug holding back the river, and flood the mines again. It might not be permanent, but I can guarantee the mines won't be operating for a good number of years."
"Are you talking about that contraption with all the gears in the east passage?" Shann asked, receiving a nod in reply. "It's more than 'a plug'. There are layers of magical protections around that thing, and I don't think I can bypass them. So, unless you know the key to destroying the thing, we'll have to think of some other way to destroy the mines."
"Yeslick should know how the river plug works," the slave said. "He's the one who built it all those years ago."
"Yeslick, that's the dwarf who has his own wing in the prison level," Shann mused. "The one with the foul temper."
"The boys have mentioned that one," Coran said with a grimace. "The naive fool who let the Iron Throne trick him into helping them re-open the mines."
"Which probably explains why he won't speak to me," Shann said. "When we first met, he called me 'a pointy-eared slaver', and won't do anything but scowl at me now."
"That's Yeslick," the old man agreed, smiling cheerfully. "Just convince him to help us, and we'll be all set. Just don't forget to tell us before you start flooding the place."
"Don't get your hopes up," Shann warned. "Yeslick might be a bit hard to convince."
Shann soon found that she was being optimistic about Yeslick. He would not even talk to Shann. He stood silently in his cell, glaring through the bars at Shann and Coran, as they tried explaining they escape plan to him. It appeared that Yeslick thought the whole plan was nothing but a trick, and the only move he made was to spit on Coran's boots.
"Cursed rock-eater," Coran grumbled as they gave up, and headed back down to the guards' quarters. "Maybe we can sneak Rill past the prison guards, and he can try talking to the dwarf."
"No, I doubt it will work. Yeslick will probably think Rill's either been deceived or bullied into helping us. I have an idea, but I'll have to convince Stephan to sell me some of Davaeorn's spell scrolls."
"There's a spell to force sense into a dense dwarf's head?" Coran asked.
"Something like that," Shann replied sadly. She left a puzzled Coran, and went to seek out Stephan, Davaeorn's apprentice.
Stephan was enamoured of the power Davaeorn promised him, but fond of the luxuries gold could buy, too, and more than willing to sell off his master's lesser possessions. There were only two spells Shann needed, but she bought several more to avoid rousing Stephan's suspicions.
"Found what you were looking for?" Coran said, looking up from the nightly card game that always ran in the guard's common room.
"Yes," Shann said curtly, already dismissing Coran as she passed him on her way to scribe her new spell into her spellbook.
The next day Shann snarled at anyone who approached her, and her fellow guards avoided Shann as best they could when she worked her regular shift, guarding the entrance to the mines. Coran tried speaking to her about her plans for Yeslick when he returned from patrolling the outside perimeter, but soon gave up when she snapped at him. He walked beside her in sullen silence when their shifts ended, and Shann curtly told him they were going to see Yeslick again.
"Back to taunt the prisoner again?" the door guard to the prison level when Shann and Coran passed him. The guard smirked when Coran nodded and grinned at him. "Well, just keep your play to words only," the guard warned as he waved them through. "Don't know why, but the higher-ups want the little dirt-eater in good shape."
"I hope that one drowns," Shann muttered as they headed deeper into the prison. Her scowl deepened when they approached Yeslick's cell. He was curled up on a pile of straw in the corner, and made no sign of being awake when Shann called out to him.
Growling softly, Shann unlocked the cell door and walking over to the dwarf. "Will you stop playing games and just start talking to me? We've no more time to waste, if just one conspirator lets something slip we'll never free the slaves without deaths on both sides."
"Stubborn bugger," Shann muttered, before chanting the new spell she had memorized the night before. She winced when the final words were uttered, and a soft glow formed briefly around the dwarf. "Yeslick, come here," she said softly.
"Yes, my friend," Yeslick replied as he stood up, brushed vainly at the dirt clinging to his simple tunic, and walked towards Shann, smiling vacantly.
"That's it," Coran exclaimed as he watched the dwarf with narrowed eyes. "You were all upset about a simple charm spell? It's a perfectly common, useful enchantment."
"It's worse than slavery," Shann snapped, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as Yeslick eyed her fondly. "He'll do anything I ask him to. Even die for me, or kill."
"Or end up freeing himself, and the rest of the slaves," Coran said, with a touch of laughter in his voice. "Yes, it's a truly horrid fate you're condemning him to."
"It was just an observation about the nature of the spell," Shann said sullenly. "I'm not thinking about abandoning the plan. Yeslick, can you destroy the river plug?"
"Yes," Yeslick answered brightly.
"How long do you think it will take you?"
He scratched his chin below his beard as he thought for a moment. "Six, seven minutes at the most."
"That's ... very good," Shann said. "Will there be time for you to escape the flood waters?"
"Who cares?" Coran muttered, earning a glare from Shann.
"Yes," Yeslick answered. "A stasis spell will delay the destruction long enough for me to escape the area."
"Good," Shann said, waving Yeslick out into the corridor. "Now, pay attention, Yeslick. I'm going to make you invisible so the guards won't see you, and you're going to follow Coran. He'll let the conspirators know about the flooding, and then take you to the river plug. Destroy it when he tells you to, and then follow Coran out of the mines."
"Coran," she said, turning to the elf. "Have Yeslick flood the mines forty minutes from now."
"What will you be doing? Looting the master's chambers?" Coran said with a wink.
"Making sure Davaeorn doesn't follow us," Shann replied, and then looked nervously at Yeslick. "One more thing, Yeslick. I don't want you dying while trying to carry out my orders. That is ... I order you to abandon the mission if something goes wrong."
"Ye're a right strange one," Yeslick said, startling both Shann and Coran. A charmed person shouldn't speak without prompting, and Coran's stance changed from casual to defensive as he stared suspiciously at the dwarf.
"Aye," Yeslick said to Shann, seemingly oblivious of the hostile Coran. "Your little spell didn't work on me. Clangeddin saw fit to protect his priest from your charm."
"You're a priest?" Shann asked, stalling while she tried to decide what Yeslick was up to. Could he be planning to call the guards, and turn us in to gain favour? That doesn't make sense, his best chance for freedom lies with us.
"That is what I just said," Yeslick said impatiently, but with amusement in his eyes. "I believe you said there was no time to waste, shouldn't you be turning me invisible now?"
"You're willing to help us?" Shann asked.
" I don't like the thought of flooding my clan's mines again, but better that then leaving them in the possession of those twisted slavers. It's my own choice, Kalina, don't you worry."
"But," Shann said, exchanging a look with Coran. "Last night ... so stubborn ... and why pretend ..."
"I've put my trust in the wrong people before. You'll understand if I'm a mite wary about trusting strangers now, especially one of those tree-loving deceivers," Yeslick said sorrowfully, and jerked his chin in Coran's direction. "And your own blood's a touch polluted too," he added, this time looking straight at Shann's pointed ears.
Shann shook her head, smiled, and quickly said the incantation to turn Yeslick invisible. "I suppose you think my blood's polluted because of my dwarven ancestry," she said to Coran.
"Your what?" he said, his voice rising on the last word.
"Nevermind," Shann said curtly. "Get moving, I'll see you two at the rendezvous point."
Coran left, after giving Shann a puzzled look, and she wasted no time before pulling out one of the spell scrolls Stephan had sold her the previous day. It was a spell that would make her undetectable to wards designed to spot invisibility shields. Combined with her innate powers of invisibility, the spell would allow Shann to pass safely through the wards protecting Davaeorn's private rooms.
Embrace your birthright, your Bhaal essence, again, and you won't have to rely on outside spells, a voice Shann hoped was her own whispered in her mind. The enhancements to my invisibility were incredibly useful, she admitted, before shaking her head, and heading towards Davaeorn's quarters.
The wards were easy to pass, but the physical locks guarding Davaeorn's rooms were not, and Shann found she had sorely underestimated the time needed to open them. The mines were due to be flooded in less than fifteen minutes when Shann finally opened the final lock, and approached the Master of the Cloakwood Mines.
Davaeorn was lounging in a cushioned chair by the fire, wearing a well-worn robe, and idly flipping through the pages of a book. He looks so harmless, Shann thought as she crept up behind the aged wizard. Like an old grandfather.
Even the more brutal guards call him an evil bastard, Shann reminded herself as she unsheathed her dagger. With one sure stroke, she sliced half way through his throat, and watched with a small smile as Davaeorn's face went from startled surprise, to slack emptiness. Best way to kill mages, slit their throats before they can cast a spell. How often have I done this now?
Shann looked towards Davaeorn's bookshelves and locked drawers with longing, but turned away from them with a sigh. No time. I wonder what treasures will be lost beneath the waters?
Choosing speed over stealth, Shann raced through Davaeorn's rooms, heading for the exit. As she neared Stephan's study, he stepped out, a look of confusion on his face, and blocked the passageway.
"Move," Shann said curtly. When he tried to stop her, Shann growled, and threw Stephan into the wall. The slightly-built man lay where he fell, moaning loudly, and Shann paused as she stepped around him. He'll probably drown if I leave him here, she thought as she started to move towards him. Why should I help him? He'll only slow me down; we'll both die. He chose to become Davaeorn's apprentice; what kind of man would do that?
Shann turned her back on Stephan, and ran through the rest of the mines. There were few people left in the upper levels; only some of the less-popular guards who were never warned of the approaching flood, and who were just beginning to realize something was wrong. Some of them followed Shann as she raced by them, heading for the surface. A sound like distant thunder drifted out of the mines as Shann walked away from the entrance, and she felt a bit disappointed that the destruction of the mines was so quiet.
"You timed that a bit close, Kalina," Yeslick remarked when Shann trotted into the cluster of slaves gathering south of the mines.
"The name's Shann," she told him. "I used a false name to sneak into the mines, but now that they're gone, I can use my true name again."
The former slaves soon began to disperse in small groups, headed towards their various home regions. Many asked Coran to join them, knowing an experienced fighter would be needed in the treacherous journeys through the wilderness, but he chose not to join any company, preferring to follow Shann.
"What are your plans?" Yeslick asked.
"The Cloakwood Mines were just one of Sarevok's depraved businesses. The largest nest of bandits in the region is in league with him; I'd like to do something about them."
"Who is Sarevok?" Yeslick said. "The mines were controlled by the Iron Throne, a group run by several leaders, not one man."
"Sarevok's controlling the Baldur's Gate branch of the Iron Throne," Shann said, and told Yeslick all she knew about Sarevok, excepting his Bhaalspawn nature.
"That's quite a tale," Yeslick said when the explanations were over. "I'm certain Clangeddin would be pleased if I aided you in this task of yours to halt Sarevok Anchev's quest for power. There are few things as dangerous as a man with more ambition than morals."
"I'll be glad to have your help," Shann said softly. "Thank you."
They headed south, towards Beregost, planning to rest and gather supplies before starting another quest. Shann also wanted to meet with the Thieves Guild representative in Beregost and, through her, contact Tamoko and learn what she could about Sarevok's latest plans.
"What's wrong with you?" Shann asked Coran when they stopped for a mid-day meal.
"What do you mean?" Coran said, scowling.
"You've been tense and nervous all morning. At first I thought it was Yeslick, something to do with the legendary rivalry between the dwarves and the elves, but you've been watching me and frowning. I want to know why."
"Do you?" he replied. "Then tell me about that dwarven blood you mentioned. Were you talking about a distant ancestor, or someone more recent? When we met, you claimed to be half-human; have you any human blood at all?"
"I never claimed to be half-human," Shann said, crossing her arms defensively. "I said I was half-elven, and you assumed the other half was human."
"Then you didn't get your complexion from your human ancestors ..." Coran stated.
"Eh, lad, maybe you should just finish your meal there, and leave the lass alone," Yeslick interrupted.
"I will not!" Coran said, his hand hovering over the hilt of the sword sheathed on his belt.
Shann sighed, and took a step away from the elf. "Yes, I'll admit it, I'm half Drow, but I suspect my hatred of the Drow, and their ways, is much greater than yours."
"The evil of that blood is undeniable," Coran said. "Why don't you tell us the real reason you wanted the Mines destroyed?"
"I think Shann's already told us her reasons," Yeslick said softly. "To free the slaves, and put an end to one of Sarevok's plans."
"No wonder they tricked you so easily," Coran spat at the dwarf. "Obviously the woman has some other motive. She wants to take this Sarevok's place, perhaps, and needs to weaken him first. The Drow are an evil race."
"I am no Drow," Shann said, unsheathing her dagger and stepping towards Coran. "I'll let no one call me such."
"You see how quickly she reverts to savagery?" Coran said to Yeslick as he pulled his sword and faced Shann. "Come, dwarf, and aid me against this Drow."
Shann had time to do no more than cross blades once with Coran before Yeslick, scowling ferociously, invoked the power of his god. "Damn fool elf," he muttered as Coran's body stiffened, and he stood unmoving with his sword half raised.
Why did he help me? Shann slowly backed away from Yeslick, watching him warily. "I'm only half Drow, you know," she said, sheathing her dagger and staring challengingly at Yeslick. "The other half is Duergar."
"Is that supposed to bother me?" Yeslick asked, cocking an eyebrow. "I doubt you're a worshipper of Laduguer or Deep Duerra; so your Duergar, or Drow, ancestry doesn't bother me none. We'll just leave that daft tree-hugger his share of the spoils, and be on our way; none the worse for the loss of that one."
They left before the hold person on Coran began to weaken, with Yeslick setting the pace. Shann walked alongside him in silence, never really looking at her companion, but frequently looking behind her and scowling. They had travelled for little more than half an hour when Shann stopped Yeslick. "I want to go back and check on Coran; make sure he's not following us."
Yeslick regarded her searchingly for a moment before nodding at her. "Do what you think is best, Shann. I'll stay here and use the time to pray. I've not yet thanked Clangeddin properly for his aid in cleansing the mines.
Shann travelled much faster without the dwarf to slow her down, and soon reached the clearing where they had left Coran. She crept forwards cautiously, using the trees and shrubs for cover, until she spotted the elf. He was kneeling by the stream to fill his waterskin. Shann pulled her bow of her shoulder, without taking her eyes off Coran.
He's dangerous, Shann thought as she reached into her quiver for an arrow. I should never have let him know about Sarevok. I wonder if he's thinking of the bounty he could get from Sarevok for me? She held the arrow loosely in her hand, and watched as Coran straightened up, stretching cat-like as he stood up. He could make trouble for me simply by following me and letting people know about my Drow heritage.
Coran slung the full waterskin around his waist, and turned to leave the stream. Abyss, Shann thought as she loosed the arrow, I hope this won't turn out to be a mistake. Her face was calm when the arrow struck, and passed though, its target.
"Tymora's tits!" Coran exclaimed, and threw himself to the side, diving down the riverbank, but not before Shann put another arrow through his waterskin. Two arrows, the same target, she thought with satisfaction. He'll know I could have hit him if I wanted to. Consider yourself warned, elf.
Her satisfaction soon faded as Shann walked away. Her hands were trembling slightly, as she fought an urge to go back and kill Coran. I shouldn't leave an enemy alive, it's only asking for trouble. Shann felt both sickness, and desire, as images of his blood spurting over her hands filled her mind. He didn't really threaten me, she argued with herself, I drew my blade first. I won't destroy a man just for thinking of me as a Drow. If Coran ever tries to come after me, then I will kill him, but I won't kill him, or any other people, because of what they could do. It's not right. Forging a path of chaos and murder was Father's way; it will not be mine.
