Chapter 13

Anomen Delryn woke up promptly six o'clock like he always did. He flexed his muscles - it was important to keep his body honed to perfection in order to uphold the ideals of good and justice - and after warming up a bit, went on his regular morning jog. After he returned, panting, he drank a lot of fresh water and a glass of carrot juice, then started on his healthily balanced breakfast. He allowed himself a cup of Maztican coffee - it was a minor vice and perked him up nicely for a new day of duty in service of Helm.

He then concentrated on his prayers. Nowadays he got along with his father, Cor Delryn, reasonably well, but still he felt that all the true fatherly caring in his life came from the deity he revered and who granted him the spells. Anomen had not been called to be Helm's paladin, but he was a cleric with the years of being a squire aiding him in his martial efforts so he was happy that he could serve the deity he loved and work for the causes he found worthy.
As Anomen finished his prayers, his father crept from bed. The red-rimmed eyes told that he had been over-indulging in alcohol again. Yet, now Cor seemed vaguely ashamed of this, and didn't ridicule Anomen of his pious lifestyle and beliefs. There was a sort of awkward truce between them, and Anomen hoped their relationship would improve. Cor was, after all, the only mortal father he would get.

- "I see my son is healthy and perky already," Cor slurred, but the venom in his voice was tired and his heart was not in it. Cor was hung over.
- "Father, go to the kitchen and drink some orange juice. It will help. Mia will cook scrambled eggs and toast," Anomen quietly said. Mia the cook they still could afford with their shrinking inheritance and Anomen's meager salary from the Order. He occasionally felt tempted by the orange juice himself, but it tasted far too good. There had to be something unhealthy and less than knightly in the stuff.
As Cor staggered into the kitchen, Anomen started to trim his beard. He produced the mustache wax, and applied it carefully, taking care not to make an overly oily impression. That was all right for suave bards who filthily sought to sully young, impressionable maidens. But Anomen was a knight, and while it was important to look trimmed and proper, he would win a lady's heart by his devotion and earnest nature, not by cheap, exotic charms. He could understand that many a young girl would be seriously tempted by the mature masculinity his beard and his body honed to perfection emanated, but he would take his responsibility as the male one to not to use that to his advantage.

Humming a hymn dedicated to Helm Anomen started to make plans for his day off, when the visibly shaken manservant came to announce visitors.
- "Sir Anomen... there are... er, people to see you..." he said, considerably pale.
- "Who are they, then?" Anomen racked his brain, trying to think back whom he might have invited to visit him.
- "There is... miss Emilia... and some... companions."
Anomen's heart jolted in his chest. Emilia of Candlekeep. Emilia the Bhaalspawn. The half-orc woman with kind smile and ready laugh. She was so infuriatingly... NICE that Anomen could not feel truly insulted even if she frequently made fun, with that glint in her brown, merry eyes, of the very Order and Anomen himself. And when Anomen had had a hard time, she had ceased the teasing and been a real friend, helping Anomen to keep his priorities straigth and even deal with his father reasonably well. The most unnerving woman, she had to be, Anomen had ever met, wreaking havoc wherever she went but doing so with a heart of gold.

- "What kind of companions?" he asked, expecting anything.
- "There was a very large man, who had... eyes. Eyes glowing like fire," The manservant whispered. He was about to go on, but Anomen nodded as he knew already. Sarevok. Of course. Emilia's half-brother. Even Anomen had had to admit that Sarevok's new outlook and quest for redemption was genuine, but still he had never truly got along with the man. Sarevok was so, so arrogant, so ready with a biting word, stirring Anomen's angry emotions and looking down from his heights. It was not fair. That someone should embrace such an enormous evil, and yet prevail and be more magnificent and notable than Anomen himself...
- "And then there was some sort of... monster. It was huge as well, green and all... but it seemed tame," the manservant went on.

- "A monster." Anomen's look was blank, his voice flat. He felt the familiar flutter in the bottom of his stomach, the flutter that never completely left him when he traveled in the company of Emilia. "A green monster. Was it larger than Emilia?"
- "Considerably so, I am afraid, sir," the manservant replied.
- "Did it have tusks?"
- "Large ones."
Bracing himself for his doom, Anomen approached the door.