Accountings

Distant Memories

A sigh escaped parched lips. He hadn’t had a drink for two days and didn’t even remember the last time he’d tasted food. When had it started? He wondered for a moment. Bodhi… that’s how it began His mind fought through a pain-filled fog to memories of what seemed like so long ago.

He had first met the vampire when he had been hunting her down to her lair for Aran Linvail. The Shadow Thief had promised his assistance in finding—his mind shied away from thoughts in that direction—in return for helping defeat the guild that opposed him. He had fought through it with several loyal companions. Bodhi had taken Minsc from them back then, turning the friendly ranger into a twisted version of himself. Even Boo had been changed. The once friendly little hamster had attacked them viciously, his little fangs biting and scraping them before he went for the eyes of Minsc’s second witch. The Avariel girl was trying to hold her own against one of the vampires already and found herself assaulted by both. She had just wanted to see the world. Now she wouldn’t ever see again, even though she had lived. After that Anomen, a young priest of Helm, had left with her to take care of her. At least they were likely to be somewhat happy together.

In the end they had beaten the vampire and her minions. Yoshimo landed the killing blow on Minsc, for which the young Bhaalspawn had been very angry, but what startled him was his anger for Jaheira. He had been ready to slaughter the woman when she let Bodhi get away, though something told him he would be just as angry, if not more so, had she killed the vampire herself.

In Brynnlaw they had again met up with Bodhi, in the dungeon of Spellhold. His soul stolen, Imoen dead, the Bhaalspawn was less than forgiving with the startlingly vibrant vampire. With his soul gone what was left was a hole of rage within him and a taint of murder and destruction. In a howl of fury he’d felt a strength course through him. His companions had felt fear do the same. Nalia and Valygar, two Nobles from Amn, one a mage, the other with a hatred of magic, Viconia, an outcast Drow cleric he’d rescued, and a Tiefling called Haer’Dalis had almost fled as he tore the vampires apart. Yoshimo had fell when he betrayed them to Irenicus. Jaheira had left them after a rather heated argument involving insults of her deceased husband and his captured sister. It was probably better she left. It meant she would be able to live her life away from him.

Bodhi still managed to escape. So he had fought through Spellhold, chasing her into the Underdark, and finally emerging at an Elven war camp. There the Elven general, Elhan, had asked for their help. They needed to find a powerful artifact, the Rynn Lanthorn, to follow Irenicus. It turned out Bodhi had the Lanthorn, and the man was forced to chase her down again. He recruited a red wizard named Edwin and a paladin of Torm, Keldorn. After requesting aid from three powerful organizations in Athkatla, and Drizzt himself, he tracked the beast down to her lair. There the Shadow Thieves, Cowled Wizards, Knights of the Radiant Heart, Drizzt and his friends, and the Bhaalspawn’s own group had slaughtered hundreds of vampires as they fought their way to Bodhi’s inner sanctum.

When they reached the vampire matriarch herself they found the situations reversed. She had her own army, comprised of hundreds of undead, not only vampires but also skeletons, liches, zombies, mummies, ghouls, and even a Death Tyrant. How she had amassed it was unknown, and not really worried about, as thieves, knights, and warriors all charged forward into the fray. Mages and priests stood in the back casting every spell they could, exhausting themselves. Once out of spells the priests joined the fray or attempted to turn the undead, and the mages resorted to their slings. Most of the Cowled Wizards left at this point, their final spells being one of escape. The Bhaalspawn was seen sparring with the undead mistress herself, but each hit was almost instantly regenerated. Finally Viconia had made her way to the pool of blood. She dropped three vials of Holy Water into the pool and turned to crack the skull of a ghoul with her flail. The few small pockets of undead that she had managed to rebuke into her service charged after the vampire queen but they were unlikely to be of much help, even with the vampire weakened as she was.

If anyone had scanned the battle they would have seen only a handful of knights remaining, four thieves left, and everyone clearly exhausted and seriously injured. The undead were not really faring much better; the weaker undead had all been completely destroyed, and only a single lich remained, his magic finished. The Death Tyrant was lying dead on the floor, a large group around it. It seemed like the vampires had fared the best, with two dozen still left, not counting the matriarch herself. Bodhi was still struggling against the soulless Bhaalspawn. His face twisted into a smile of satisfaction for the several bleeding wounds she bore. However he was tired and she was not. He slipped in his attack and she surged forward in triumph. He rolled onto his back and the vampire landed on him, hard. With a smile she raised her claws, but stopped as a roar shook the chamber. She was no longer sitting on a defenseless man; in his place was a powerful demon. An powerful and angry demon.

Before she could blink she was ripped in two, and thrown across the room. The demon then stood and began mopping up what was rest of the undead, but it didn’t stop there. A knight, and two thieves were all to escape the crypts that night, the Bhaalspawn’s party torn to shreds.

The news had spread amazingly quickly and he was thrown out of Athkatla within hours. The Elves hadn’t even trusted him for his help when he returned the Lanthorn. He’d been unable to follow them through the winding forests eventually getting lost. He’d been here for weeks, his water supply slowly dwindling, his food gone within the second week there. Finally he brought himself from his thoughts. There was a rustling nearby and he reached his shaking hand for his weapon hoping for some foolish animal. What actually came was nothing of the sort…

Passings

The blade in his shaking hand fell to the ground as his eyes settled on the three people coming into the clearing. The first one was male, the other two women. The man wore a suit of red dragon scales comfortably, though no helm covered his brown hair and rounded face, and the way he held his sword and shield suggested experience. Another sword was at his belt and the Bhaalspawn swore he remembered finding both of them in Watcher’s Keep. The next woman was wearing a suit of dragon scales as well, though hers was black. In her hand was a good quarterstaff, and she had a club and scimitar at her belt. Her hair, on the border of blond and brown, framed a beautiful Half-Elven face. The third woman wore long robes of prismatic colors. Her eyes were covered by a silk piece of cloth, much like a blindfold, and her blond hair in turn covered that. Something about them seemed familiar but he just couldn’t place it.

They all stood staring at him for the longest time before anyone spoke. “What have you done child?” was all the first woman could say.

Something about her voice and words was known to him, though he swore she was a stranger. “Who are you? What do you speak of?” He asked her and backed away slowly.

The blindfolded one was the first to answer. “You don’t remember do you” He mutely shook his head, his mouth unable to form the words. “You don’t remember us?” She stepped into a brighter spot in the clearing and her face became more visible in the light of the forest. The tattoo on her forehead peeking out from her blindfold seemed to be screaming at him that he knew her, but again he could only shake his head. She ‘looked’ at the other two for a moment, her head turning towards them, but both remained silent. “I-I’m sorry.” She said and shook her head sadly. The man stepped over to her and whispered in her ear. She smiled sadly and nodded.

“No crime can go unpunished, but sometimes the punishment is mercy. You told me that once. I thought you meant to let them live with what they’d done. Now I believe you may have meant that death is a mercy.” The man’s voice shook as he spoke. “Do you still not remember us? Remember me, my brother?” He mind raced, but he could not place this man as one of the Bhaalspawn. His hands were shaking again as he croaked a denial.

The third had tears in her eyes as she stepped forward herself. He felt the slightest touch of regret in him before it was washed away and she spoke. “Is there nothing of you, Jesran, that remembers us, remembers me?”

The young man finally found his voice. “I do not remember, woman. Seeing you inspires no emotion, nor any memory. If this isn’t what you wished to hear then I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

The woman stood there in shock for a moment before a tear slid from her eye, though she was silent. The blind woman laid a hand upon her comfortingly, but didn’t speak. The man shook his head sadly and whispered a prayer to some deity.

Jesran tried to stand and leave but upon his first movement both warriors reached for their weapons. He looked at them in amusement for a moment before he stood and turned. “Stop.” One of the three said, he was not sure which, his head was getting light, and there was a strange buzzing going on somewhere.

He did and turned to look at them again. “Why, you gonna give me some food and something to drink?” At their blank stares he nodded. “Didn’t think so.” And turned to leave again, though he knew he wouldn’t be able to find anything in these forests lost as he’d been for weeks.

“You aren’t going to hunt. You never really could; neither could Imoen for that matter.” It was one of the women this time, though he couldn’t be sure which one.

He stopped again, but this time turned much more slowly. “Who?!” He snapped, the name he remembered, it was important.

“Imoen, your sister.” It was the female warrior. “Neither of you ever could hunt. I was rather surprised you’d lived to the Friendly Arm without me.” She didn’t seem to remember the situation was just blathering about nothing. “But you did arrive, and in good company, Minsc and Dynaheir, and of course Boo.” Minsc and Dynaheir. The names made him stop and he had a distinct memory of a hamster. The hamster had brown hair and red eyes—no that’s not right. He remembered a hamster with black fur and red eyes on a tall bald warrior with pale skin, and a purple tattoo he remembered with this name, Minsc.

“Minsc” left his dry lips.

“And Boo stand ready.” It was the mage now. “That’s right. He’d say that all the time. And I was his witch after Dynaheir died.”

A trembling hand caressed her face, as if to be sure it was there. “Aerie? You were blinded? Anomen,” he turned to the knight. “left with you.” He turned to the last one. “You…” His mind searched but he could not find a name and face from his past that matched this woman. “Who…”

Her eyes were on the ground as she spoke. “Khalid was your best friend, so soon after that.” Khalid and his wife; he remembered them as well. The Half-Elf had been a dear friend and his wife…

“Jaheira!” He said, and her head jerked up to look him in the eyes. “Jaheira, why did you leave me? We fought. You abandoned me, when I needed you, when Imoen needed you. You all did!” The center of his being, the hole, was again filling with rage and it seemed there was nothing to hold it back. Strength coursed through him again and he charged at the small trio.

Hours later he held a dagger in his quivering hand, above an outstretched wrist. He’d caused so much pain; he just wanted it to end. Slowly he slid it along his extended wrist, a thin line of red appearing behind the knife’s blade. He almost smiled at the realization that he had received his final mercy, and he would be free of what pain he had suffered here. And those who lived would be free of him. And that thought finally did bring a smile to his face as his life quickly faded away.