Chapter 11

- "Feel like singing. Only the songs I know not very knightish," Tazok said, as he and the children of Bhaal had walked for a while.
- "I am sure Tyr won't mind. The songs of even most pious soldiers tend to get a bit rude when the soldiers in question are worn enough," Sarevok said. He was not sure that he wanted to hear the ogre singing, but he wanted to encourage him.
- "Yeah, go ahead and sing," Emilia encouraged.
- "... not so suitable for a lady..." Tazok muttered.
- "Taz. Let's just say that I have battled demons, shared a camp with a duergar berserker and waded through the moron spawning grounds otherwise known as Sword Coast. So go ahead."

Sarevok blushed at that.
- "Really, bro," Emilia sniggered. "You should not have been that stingy. I mean, the assassins would probably have been succesful unless they felt compelled to recite poetry, utter a cool catchphrase or otherwise announce themselves."
- "I am glad that they were unsuccesful, Emilia," Sarevok said, not laughing.
- "I know. Just teasing." Emilia smiled warmly at her brother.
Tazok still felt a bit insecure.
- "Go ahead, sing!" Emilia urged. Tazok cleared his throat.

Me like killing, me like gore
Me will kick inside the door
Me will rip your limbs apart
then split your ass so that you fart

Me like killing, me like gore
One kill will make me want some more
Me will flay your skin from bones
Me will delight in your moans

Kill! Gore! Wanna kill some more!
Kill Gore! Bodies cover floor!

Me...

Tazok quit abruptly.
- "Not feels... right to sing so anymore," he said. "Not understand... is just words. But I not think Tyr like that kind of thing."
- "I am sure that we can find a bit more... paladinish song for you," Emilia replied kindly. "Anomen may know one, or a bard. Or we could compose one ourselves, hmmm?"
Tazok nodded, but still looked unhappy.
- "This just... so hard! So much things me know nothing about, and an ogre... usually not very good in knighty stuff."
- "But yet you want to try," Sarevok said evenly.
- "My god called me. Was feeling empty, that all my life good for nothing. Tyr gave... important job. Just... it is so hard."
- "No-one ever said being a paladin is easy, Tazok," Sarevok replied. "I have not been called to be one, and I suspect I don't have the proper nature for such a calling. But I do know about redemption, and fighting to leave the ghosts of one's past. It is very hard, and other people are not likely to thank you, but their thanks is not why you do it. When you have a purpose, and you improve morally, it is better than anything else."

Tazok listened intently, grabbing the hilt of Justiciar with his other huge hand and the holy symbol of Tyr with another. He nodded, and understood the truth of it.
- "By Tyr me will keep trying," he said. "And find a paladinish song, for starters."
As the children of Bhaal smiled encouragingly at him, they heard a gallop of a few horses.
- "By the name of all that is holy! What is that vile thing doing with the holy symbol of the Even-Handed?"
The speaker was a knight, complete with a white horse and shining armor, followed with five other ones. Terror and outrage were competing in his voice.