And sorry about the lack of replies, I got shipped off to Rochester for a couple of days. No computer
I'll get right to replying 
***
When Wolves Cry 3: I’m Dying
I tried to kill the pain
But only brought more
I lay dying
And I’m pouring crimson regret and betrayal
I’m dying praying bleeding and screaming
Am I too lost to be saved
Am I too lost?
-Tourniquet, Evanescence
***
“Well, little one,” the voice was cold and emotionless, “It seems that you’re here, finally.”
Vexk looked around, she was in a cold, barren land, looking out a vast stretch of nothing. The mage was there, Irenicus. She snarled.
“What might be, Bhaalspawn,” he mused, “You escaped my care infected, poisoned, tainted, even further than you already were. Will this be you, or this, or this? Will you kill them like you killed *her*?"
An image of Yaera's bloody form, so still in death assaulted her senses. Then there was madness.
She saw herself, standing with her friends. In one vision, her eyes…they just changed, all sense of sanity was gone. She shifted, in one sterling moment, and ran after Shanka, leaping on her twin and tearing at her.
Shanka screamed once, before Vexk’s jaws closed around her throat, and the werewolf dropped her, lifeless to the ground. Then she hurtled after the next one, then the next, until everyone she’d ever cared about or loved lay dead, torn to bits by her.
Tears trickled from Vexk’s gray eyes as she watched her dream-self howl in triumph.
Another vision, she was walking with Jaheira, in the market. This time it was not her friends that bore her madness, but a group of children playing a game in the square. They screamed, and cried, some tried to run, but they were not fast enough.
And then another, the black werewolf was caged, she snapped and clawed at the bars when someone drew near. Her eyes held not even the faintest glimmer of recognition. She snarled, and howled. She frothed at the mouth. Then, the disease took its full hold on her, and she died. She could hear Shanka weeping, watched as they buried her under an oak tree. And…Yaera, Yaera wept in Arvandor.
“That is where you belong, Bhaalspawn,” Irenicus went on, “In a cage, where you can’t hurt your loved ones, where you can’t rob others of their lives.”
***
She woke in a cold sweat, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Vexk’s cool gray eyes darted about, Shanka was already awake, most likely with one hell of a hangover.
So she sat alone in her room, thoughts as troubled as ever. Vexk’s hand strayed to the hilt of her dagger, a blade she had had in her possession for quite some time. It was silver, thin, and razor-sharp. If she let herself live, one day, the madness would take her, and she would kill someone that she loved. If she killed herself, it would shatter Shanka. Not to mention what it would do to Jaheira, who still acted like one who had had their very heart ripped out.
She sighed wearily, better shattered than slain.
“Forgive me,” she whispered. She held the blade to her wrist, and slashed it across, repeating the process on the other. Blood spurted from her wounds, running down her hands, dripping off her fingertips. Crimson life. She shivered and dropped the knife as the world began to grow fuzzy.
Soon, soon it will be over.
Jaheira walked in. The druid was at her side in seconds, warm hands on her arms. The world swam, Jaheira prayed.
She felt the life running out of her, then in an instant, it was restored. Weak, but healed, and alive. Those confused gray eyes met the druid’s vivid green ones, that look Jaheira gave that said that there would be hell to pay. The druid hoisted Vexk up and maneuvered her into the bed, pulling the blankets over her.
“Don’t tell Shanka,” the lycanthrope rasped before everything went black.
***
Jaheira wanted to scream…or cry, but would do neither. Instead she made sure that her charge was in no danger of dying. Then she locked the door and cleaned the blood off of the floor. After she was done with this, she proceeded to remove every sharp object from the room, along with every single string or rope she saw.
After all that had happened…Gorion, Sarevok, Irenicus, Khalid, for this. For this! To walk in a room and find her charge attempting suicide. She was trapped between anger and sorrow. Finally, she pulled a chair up next to the bed, and waited, wishing for all the world that she could find the right words, the right thing to say to the broken woman.
Of all the things…but, she reminded herself, this was Vexk. Vexk who was the voice of reason, the leader of the party. Surely time in the dungeon couldn’t do this to her. But then what?
Jaheira sighed, and remained where she was.
***
“How’s the head feeling?” Salvanas asked, handing her a cool washcloth. Shanka placed it on her forehead.
“Like an army of angry glabrezu are trying to pound their way out of it,” she replied, “And Jaheira wouldn’t give me anything for it. Said I needed to learn a lesson.”
The elven man chuckled, “Well, you’re lucky you didn’t run into Vexk this morning.”
The half-elf’s eyes widened considerably, “Why?”
Salvanas grinned, “Because, Shanks, you said some interesting things last night. Maybe concerning her private life.”
“Crap!” Shanka felt the strong urge to bang her head on the table, but refrained from it. She wasn’t sure it would improve her headache.
“Oh, lighten up,” Salvanas said, “She’s not mad.”
“I’m going for a walk, see if I can find anything out, you want to come, Sal?”
“Why not, should I round up the crew?” he asked.
“Sure, we’ll make a day of it,” Shanka said, “Don’t tell Vexk, I want ta surprise her.”
***
A few minutes later found Shanka, Salvanas, Yoshimo, Minsc, and Anomen walking around in the Slums. Some odd thief fellow who sounded like a pigeon met with them, and explained how his guild could help for twenty-thousand gold. Shanka agreed, even though she wasn’t sure she could come up with that kind of money.
“Well, that should please her,” Shanka mused, as they made their way through the winding city streets. They found themselves in the Government District.
“Look at the little park,” Shanka pointed, “Jaheira would love that.”
“No, she’d complain about them torturing trees,” Salvanas said, grinning, he arched an eyebrow and struck a pose, “There must be balance. How do these nobles get off mutilating these poor trees. Why I oughta…”
His accent drove Shanka over the edge. She leaned against one of the aforementioned trees, laughing hysterically. Eventually she stopped, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes and trying desperately to keep a straight face.
“Minsc does not understand,” the huge Rashemani berserker said. Boo squeaked into the man’s ear. “Oh, Minsc gets it now.”
“Oh, do Vexk,” Shanka begged.
Salvanas stiffened, becoming very serious, before casting a sidelong glance at nothing in particular and growling. Shanka chuckled some more.
“Burn the drow!” someone shouted as they walked past the odd little group. A mob of people surged by, hooting and hollering about dark-elves.
“That was interesting,” Yoshimo observed, his dark eyes following them.
“Let’s check it out,” Shanka proposed. She followed the mob to a stake, surrounded by heaps of wood. A group of Beshebans, led by a priest, brought out a struggling hooded figure. They proceeded to tie the person to the pole, which proved fairly difficult, as the figure was putting up one hell of a fight, in spite of its hands being bound.
“Look ye all upon this foul drow,” the priest crowed, throwing back the tied person’s hood.
“Mongrel to the rescue,” Shanka said, before charging through the group, toward the form of Viconia DeVir. Yoshimo and Anomen watched as Salvanas stared for a moment at the bound woman, extreme emotion flickering in his eyes. He murmured something in a strange tongue before running towards the scene.
“Burn the drow!” several townsfolk shouted.
“How do you get off burning one of my wives?!” Salvanas shouted, continuing quickly towards the pole and drawing his blade.
Viconia gave him an odd look, as if she could not believe what he had said.
“What?” the priest asked, looking with some confusion between the drow and the elf.
“I said, get the hell away from my *jhasina*, fool,” Salvanas snarled walking up onto the platform. He could feel the drow glaring a hole into his skull.
“Just who do you think you are?!” The priest shouted.
“I am Salvanas Eveningfall, adopted son of Kariq Sai-Alyn, merchant prince of Calimshan, and if you do not get your filthy hands off my jhasina, I will not hesitate to have every last one of you killed. My personal assassins will see that none of you escape,” the elf sneered, as Shanka and Yoshimo stepped up to flank him.
“Look…I’m…we’re sorry,” hurriedly, they cut the drow down, much to the disappointment of the crowd.
Salvanas was by the drow in seconds, wrapping his arms around her. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead before letting go, “Are you alright, jhasina?”
“Yeah,” Viconia replied meekly, “I’m so sorry I didn’t get back quickly, but…”
Shanka blinked, damn, Vic was good at this, “It’s alright, let’s go home.”
Slowly the crowd trickled away, their sport ruined. Salvanas was sent reeling as Viconia hit him. While he was on the ground she prodded him with her foot, smiling down, “Are we even now, darthiir?”
“Quite,” the elf replied, grinning back as she held out a hand to help him up, “You’ve got a mean right hook, Vico.”
Anomen walked up to them, his mace in his hand, “And this is how you repay your savior, *drow*?”
“In all respect, I deserved it, Ano,” Salvanas said.
“How? You saved her and she attacked you, though you could expect no less from one such as that,” the fighter-cleric replied, sparing a distasteful glance for the dark-elf.
“I referred to her as my wife and a jhasina,” Salvanas answered, “In her culture a man could be slain for making such suggestions. I called her a member of my harem or harem-trained if you will, and in the Underdark, women are the dominant gender. It was a very insulting thing for me to say.”
“Women are the dominant gender on the surface as well, darthiir,” the drow remarked, prodding him in the ribs.
“I still can’t believe you rescued that thing!” Anomen said aloud, his expression one of disgust.
“Would you let some pompous fruit set one of *your* friends on fire?” Shanka asked, intervening because she saw Salvanas beginning to get angry.
“He was a priest!” Anomen objected.
“He was a royal nutcase!” Shanka retorted.
“A pleasure to see you again, my dark goddess,” Salvanas greeted, bowing deeply, “I was beginning to worry.”
“It is not so bad to see you either, jhasin,” Viconia replied, “Very good timing.”
Salvanas grinned cheekily, “It's not that awful to be your jhasin.”
The drow raised one snowy eyebrow.
“Vic,” Shanka drew her attention, “Meet the guys.”
“I am Yoshimo,” the Kara-turan greeted.
“Anomen Delryn,” Anomen said, still looking at Viconia like she was the embodiment of evil.
“Hmmm…quite a collection you have, abbil,” Viconia mused, “Have you lost your sister and the tree-hugger?”
“Nah, they’re back at the inn,” Shanka replied, “Want to go back and grab a bite to eat?”
The drow nodded, and they walked off.
****
jhasin/jhasina : member of a harem or harem-trained
****
Hope ya liked it,
H’kira the Wolf
