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Through A Glass Darkly


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#1 Laufey

Posted 12 December 2005 - 12:02 PM

Through A Glass Darkly

The wizard bent over his scrying ball, peering intently into the dark crystal. He had been tempted to be present on the scene himself, but then had been persuaded that no such thing would be necessary.

“Give me a break,” she’d said, tossing her head contemptuously so that her bright red hair was flicked out of her eyes. “This will be a piece of cake. I could practically kill him with my eyes closed.”

And she was right about that too. She was ready for this, the time was right, and he knew she would triumph. Yes, this kill was more important than the rest, but there was no reason to expect anything would go wrong. Truly, she was an artist when it came to murder.

I chose well when I chose her, the wizard thought, smiling to himself. It was a cruel smile, and yet there was an odd hint of fondness to it as he watched the half-elven girl in the scrying ball. Yes, I chose very well indeed.

She was walking down the road leading into the forest, her steps brisk and confident. And why wouldn’t they be? Power was her birthright, and she knew very well how to use it. Of course, that didn’t mean that equipment should be neglected. The half-elf was wearing a beautiful set of magical chainmail, clearly of elven make. The elf who had previously worn it hadn’t really wanted to part with it, not for anything. Being parted from his head had bothered him a bit more though. The wizard smiled as he recalled how she had giggled about the surprised look on the corpse’s face. Such a spirited girl she was. And so good with a sword too. Not that she wasn’t also skilled with a bow, but of late she seemed to prefer the sword.

I like the smell of blood up close, she’d said to him, late one night as they lay together in his bed, her golden eyes bright and glowing with unearthly light. It makes me feel closer to my Father. And that was of course for the best, anything that would bring her more power was. Yes, she is the one. I know it. She will take the Throne of Bhaal, and I…I will be rewarded too. She knows what she owes me, and she will need followers when the time comes. After all, without me she would never have come this far.

The wizard hummed quietly under his breath as he watched the scene unfold in the dark glass. It was a persistent tune, impossible to get out of his head.

The Lord of Murder shall perish. But in his doom, he shall spawn a score of mortal progeny. Chaos will be sown in their passage. So sayeth the wise Alaundo…

“Wise indeed, to see what he saw. But so was I, to interpret his words correctly, and take full advantage of them.”

In the scrying ball, the half-elven girl had passed into the dark woods. Briefly, she lifted her head, sniffing the air. No doubt she could already scent her prey, the wizard thought. She raised a gloved hand, lowering the visor of her helmet. As she briefly turned towards the glass, he could see those inhuman burning eyes looking back at him, the only part of her face now visible. The girl looked straight back at him, then gave him a sly wink. “Told you,” she whispered. “Piece of cake. Here they come now. Want to bet that I can get their innards to do seven loops around that oak over there?”

The wizard didn’t answer, that wasn’t possible. Instead, he watched with fascination as two people stepped out of the trees. One of them was a middle-aged man, solid-looking and strong but with a very gentle face. The wizard sneered. Reiltar Anchev. Finally, that annoying busybody of a Harper will be out of my way once and for all. He has been troublesome indeed, hiding his charge away for so long. But no more.

The second person was a much younger man, extraordinarily tall and muscular. He was wearing a simple linen shirt and leather breeches, and wore a large but plain sword strapped across his back. No armor? Couldn’t Reiltar at least have afforded to give him that, despite hiding out in the slums of Baldur’s Gate for all those years? The young man’s skin was a deep tan, but his eyes…yes, his eyes were those of the half-elf. Not with that fierce glow, no, but they had that peculiar golden colour all the same. Brother and sister. But not for much longer. Strong the young man might be, but the wizard knew very well that he was still a mere beginner in the art of the warrior. Not to mention utterly ignorant of who he is, of course. How ironic. I wonder how different things might have been, if I had picked up him rather than her, all those years ago in the Temple of Bhaal?

But now Zaerini was speaking, and there was the hint of suppressed laughter in her voice as she stepped out in front of the two man, her sword drawn. “Hey,” she nonchalantly told the Harper. “You know what I want. Hand over Anchev Junior, and you won’t be hurt. Much.”

“I am Sarevok Anchev!” The young man blustered, his deep voice nevertheless slightly tinged with fear. “Who are you, woman, to address my father so rudely and accost us as we go about our peaceful business?”

Reiltar Anchev firmly shook his head. “Young woman, you are a fool if you believe I would trust your benevolence. I am not without means of defending myself. Step aside, and you will remain unhurt.”

Zaerini raised her left hand, and with a flash and a rumble as of falling rocks, her body was encased in layer upon layer of flexible stone, followed by a crackling shield of magical fire. She chuckled quietly, and raised her sword. “I’m sorry that you feel that way…old man,” she said.

In his study in Candlekeep, home of the prophecies of Alaundo, and home of the one who knew better than anybody how to bend them to his own purpose, Gorion the Black, the Hidden One, leaned back in his chair with a smile on his face. “So,” he said, watching the entertaining scene that followed. “Now it begins.”
Rogues do it from behind.




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