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Chapter 137: Profit and Loss
Imoen was distinctly worried about Harrian. He was not a warrior by profession or nature – his fighting skills were more suited to a one-on-one scuffle in a dark alleyway, or a small skirmish against a group of opponents when he also had the party at his back. They were not fighting skills suitable to a great, large-scale battle against multiple powerful foes who outnumbered them three-to-one.
This wasn’t entirely what concerned Imoen. Harrian had coped with such encounters in the past, keeping behind the frontline fighters like Minsc and Anomen, and battling in a way that kept him effective yet alive. He wasn’t doing that right now. From the moment they, along with the Shadow Thieves and Paladins who kept eyeing each other warily, stepped foot in the crypts, Harrian had been throwing himself into each encounter with the sort of deadly fervour that got one killed.
Again, however, him getting himself killed wasn’t what had Imoen worried, because Harrian seemed to be holding his own quite well against five vampires at a time, twin swords flashing in the torchlight and despatching foes left, right and centre. That was what had her feeling nervous. Her brother was being most efficient at dealing out death.
They had fought their way through the first chambers of Bodhi’s lair; ended the lives of all the vampires they had encountered. Anomen had been swift with his holy symbol of Helm, powerful enough now to not only repel the undead, but even injuring some of them with his chanting. Reynald and Aerie were also wielding stakes, going from coffin to coffin as the fallen vampire withdrew to it, and ending their lives entirely.
Imoen remembered these chambers all too well; recognised the corridors they had run through before, the rooms she’d been imprisoned in. And now they were narrowing their search, descending to the lower levels where Bodhi doubtless was… to the room which had once been Irenicus’ workshop. Where she had had her soul ripped from her. Where she intended to get it back.
As the group trod silently down the corridor, heading for the door ahead, Arkanis the Shadow Thief held up a hand. “Hold!” he instructed, his voice low, his rat-like features shifted into an intense expression as his deep-set dark eyes ran across the walls in front of them.
Imoen followed his gaze, and noticed the crack in the wall that was certainly not there from age or wear. “A trap,” she whispered, almost kicking herself for not noticing it. With Harrian hardly thinking straight, she should have been more alert. If Arkanis hadn’t been there…
The Shadow Thief moved forwards lightly, drawing some tools out. He extracted a long, thin strip of metal, and crouched before the crack in the wall, gently easing it in. There was a long pause, a click, and then nothing.
Harrian smiled grimly. “Sneaky bitch, isn’t she?” he said, his voice far more venomous and cold than Imoen could ever remember it being. “We’ll have to thank her for that.”
“Right before we send her back to her grave for good,” Anomen murmured, pressing forwards, Minsc, Reynald and Sir Eric standing at his shoulders. The group hurried on towards the door, behind which Bodhi had to be, assembled with her vampires and ready to make a final stand. And, hopefully, it was where Jaheira would be also.
They came to a halt at the door, and assembled around it. Sir Eric turned to them, lowering the visor on his helm, and hefting his blade. “It might be best if you allow myself and my paladins to go in first – we are the best in the frontlines, and are most suited for destroying creatures like vampires.”
Harrian seemed to consider this for a moment, sheathing the Equaliser – new toy or not, the Daystar was more suitable for use against the undead – before he straightened up and gripped the hilt of his sword. “No,” he said at last. “Bodhi is mine to encounter.” And with that, he shoved open the doors and strode in, seemingly oblivious as to whether or not the others were following.
“Bodhi!” his voice rang out through the crypt, more harsh and commanding than Imoen had ever heard it. “No more running! No more tricks! Thrice now have you fled before me in this graveyard! No more!”
As the others hurried up to stand beside him, the sight was not pleasant. Bodhi stood, balanced on the edge of a large bath of blood, hordes of her vampires standing by her. Again, they were outnumbered. Again, they would have to fight beyond what they had fought before.
“So, you have found me,” Bodhi said casually, walking casually around the edge of the bath. “At last. Though, I confess, I have not gone to great lengths to hide myself from you. Fleeing and tricking is a most useful tactic when it means that you get to fight the enemy on your own turf.”
“You should have hid better than that, vampire!” Anomen spat, and for the first time Imoen noticed how tense he, too, was, the Flail of Ages shuddering a little in his shaking – from anger, she presumed, not fear – grip. “We have chased you, we have hunted you – we have taken the fight to you – and now this hunt shall end on our terms.”
Imoen stepped forwards, a curious mixture of adrenaline-pumping courage and nauseating fear pounding through her stomach. “The fight ends here, Bodhi! We shall take back what you have stolen! I will have my soul!”
Bodhi shrugged far too casually. “You may try, indeed. But you shall fail. There are elements at work here which have been planned for far too long for a Bhaalspawn like yourself to interrupt.” Imoen felt, rather than saw, Anomen wince at the vampire’s words. It really probably was just as well he’d found out last night about her heritage.
Bodhi hopped down from the edge of the bath. “I suppose you have a great cause, crusade, which has brought you here? Otherwise your desire for revenge is impressively tenacious, especially as I have done little to you… barring knocking you out, locking you up, and trying to drain you of all blood,” she said to Harrian.
Harrian’s chest was heaving with barely-controlled anger, and there was a light of fire in his eyes. “The Rhynn Lanthorn,” he said at last, though it was quite clear the elven artefact was the last thing on his mind here. “You stole it.”
“I suppose I did,” Bodhi commented lazily, examining her claw-like nails. “And I shall keep it. Those elves shall not use it.”
Harrian’s eyes narrowed, and it seemed that, despite his agitation, he had not entirely lost his presence of mind. “Why Suldanesselar, Bodhi? What’s there that you and Irenicus want? Why the elven city?”
Bodhi smiled humourlessly. “Elhan sent you, didn’t he,” she said unquestioningly. “And I’m not surprised he didn’t explain it all. Didn’t explain the situation. After all, it would be quite embarrassing for him.”
Aerie shifted a little. “W-what do you mean?”
“Well, no elf would attack the city, would they? No elf would strike a deal with the drow against their brethren, would they? No elf would do as Irenicus and I have done!” Bodhi declared loudly. “It would almost be worth letting you live so you could slink back to Elhan and demand answers! Almost!”
Harrian smiled a bright and frighteningly feral smile. “Well, that’s just one more thing I’ll have to remember to ask about when we’re out of here. In the meantime, you will pay for what you have done. You will pay for the attacks on the elven city, and you shall pay for the theft of the Rhynn Lanthorn, my soul, Imoen’s soul, and Jaheira!”
Again, Bodhi smiled. “Ah yes, Jaheira. I was wondering when we would get that far. Interesting.” The ranks of the vampires parted slightly to show, standing behind them, Jaheira. Only it wasn’t her – not quite. Her skin was pale and sickly, and there were two fine prick marks at her neck which were still bleeding a little.
“There was no time to turn her completely,” Bodhi explained, in the tone of a market seller talking about their wares, “but she is under my thrall entirely. She shall do all my bidding. Won’t you?”
Imoen drew a deep, shaking breath of anticipation as all eyes were fixed on the deathly-pale druid, who raised her head. There was nothing even resembling Jaheira in her eyes. “Y-yes, mistress,” came the cold, empty voice.
Harrian looked as if he was either going to be sick or explode into rage. “Like I said,” he told Bodhi, his voice shaking a little as he pointed the Daystar at the vampire and sounded as cold and uncompromising as ever. “You. Shall. Pay.”
It was always like that. The tension rising before a battle as the two sides eyed each other, taunted each other, threatened each other, and got said what was needed to be said. The emotions running high, trying to keep them under control, trying not to crack and trying to keep control of the situation until it exploded.
And when it exploded, anything went.
A frenzy of activity broke out, and Imoen gripped her sword as she lunged towards where Bodhi was lurking behind her row of vampires. She wasn’t a warrior in any shape or form, but a magic missile between the eyes of the nearest undead made it clear that she had strengths on the field of battle.
Anomen standing right beside her and warding off any attacks also helped a little.
Bodhi saw them coming, tearing her gaze away from where her vampires were locked in combat with the adventurers, the paladins and the Shadow Thieves. “Little Imoen comes to try and take her soul back from a creature more powerful than she can imagine?”
Imoen skidded to a halt and raised her hands, moving them through the gestures and mumbling the words of a spell. Behind her, Anomen crushed the skull of an approaching vampire, and then watched in surprise as Imoen cast a fireball directly at Bodhi.
It incinerated some of the undead around her, but just sent Bodhi flying back a few metres, hitting the floor with a thump. She seemed intact, however.
Imoen moved to lunge forwards again, but a vampire leapt in her way, claws raised. Even as Imoen hefted her sword to despatch it, there was a hum in the air and the Flail of Ages shot over her head, hitting the vampire in the face.
“Do what you have to, my lady!” Anomen hollered over the shouts of battle, raising his shield to fend off another attack. “Worry only about Bodhi – I have the others!” He whirled around, fumbling his holy symbol in his hand as he tried to grip both it and his flail at once, but succeeded at shoving it in the face of the nearest vampire, who fell back with a hiss and a wince.
“You think you can defeat me?” Bodhi asked, back on her feet and facing Imoen. “You think that waving a little sword around and casting street magic will be enough to kill me?”
Her words were punctuated by a sudden leap back as Imoen’s sword sliced through the air at stomach level. No mortal being would have been able to move fast enough to dodge that.
“Don’t underestimate me. Someone fighting for something important is always going to be a stronger opponent than you’d think,” Imoen retorted, raising her sword to a more defensive posture. The screams of the battle were loud in her ears, and the body of a paladin, bloody and beaten, flew through the air next to them to hit the floor and move no more.
Bodhi hissed and launched into the air, her claws hitting steels as Imoen defended herself. Whilst Bodhi could move faster than any mortal, with the speed, agility and toughness that could only come unnaturally, the vampire was fighting against Imoen – a thief and mage of the quickest reflexes, sharpest abilities, and, most important of all, a greater drive and desire for success.
Behind her, Anomen was locked in combat with three vampires at once, hard-pressed but fighting valiantly. She was dimly aware of Aerie coming to his aid, chasing off one with her own holy power, and beating it down with her magic at the same time. Reynald and Minsc were currently cleaving their way through the hordes with the paladins by their sides, and Harrian was… well, she couldn’t see Harrian. She couldn’t see Jaheira either, which rather explained that.
Bodhi launched forwards again, jerking her out of her attempts to work out what was going on, which it turned out she was to pay for quite dearly, as the vampire’s attack this time took her unawares and knocked her onto her back, her sword flying out of her hand and skidding away a little.
Bodhi stood over her, stretching her hand and flexing her claws a little. “Well… it seems all the drive in the world can’t bring down the best laid plans… goodbye, Imoen, and know that your soul has a good home.” She raised her claws, bared her fangs, and tensed to launch upon her.
The air hummed briefly as three flail heads flew through the air and hit Bodhi in the chest, knocking her back, Anomen quickly following with the light of battle in his eyes. The vampire staggered back, the gashes in her chest wide – if regenerating quickly – but was too dazed to stop Imoen from grabbing her sword and running Bodhi through quickly.
Almost everyone came to a halt as Bodhi let out a loud, piercing scream, and all of the vampires seemed to falter and weaken. “No!” she screamed, falling to her knees weakly. “This… this life… is mine…!”
Quickly, her body dissipated, and turned into a thin, wavering cloud that even Anomen swiping at couldn’t destroy. It shifted through the air briefly, shimmering, then headed for a door at the back of the chamber, seeping through the cracks in the doorway.
“My lady. Are you alright?” Anomen asked, taking Imoen by the hand and almost lifting her off the ground as he helped her up. Even standing upright, he didn’t release her hand, and the light of battle had been exchanged for a light of concern in his blue-green eyes.
“Yes, I… just shaken…” Imoen glanced over at the room where Bodhi’s cloud had disappeared to. “She’s still not dead. But a stake should… do it… she still has my soul…” Around them, the vampires were reeling, weakened by Bodhi’s defeat, and despatching them was increasingly easy.
In the end, there was only one standing, clutching a scimitar and fighting with a warrior who had not brought down any vampires in this room, and who did not seem to be intent on winning the fight. Jaheira did not look as if she was about to turn back to her old self. Harrian was fighting in an empty, futile way – warding off attacks, purely on the defensive, not striking her down himself.
Reynald observed them, stepping up beside Anomen and Imoen, and reached for the crossbow at his hip. “He should strike her down. He does her no favours by extending her torment. With the vampire dead, she should be able to find peace.”
Imoen reached out to rest a hand on Reynald’s crossbow. “Don’t do it yourself, though,” she warned him, stepping forward and sheathing her short sword. “Harrian! This is getting nowhere! You can’t… you can’t save her,” she called out to her brother.
“Shut up, Imoen!” Harrian yelled back, much more harshly than he ever had. “I’m not… not going to…” He paused to fend off another snarling attack. “I’m not going to kill her!”
A glance from Sir Eric had his paladins surrounding the fighting pair, and as Harrian dodged another lunge from Jaheira, the vampirised druid seemed to realise that she was surrounded. Hissing, spitting, and not seeming even vaguely recognisable – more beastly than anything else – she lowered her blade, glaring at the paladins, and at Harrian in particular.
Anomen stepped up beside Harrian. The thief stood stiffly, his sword shaking a little as he gripped it, his jaw clenched. From the tilt of his head and the darkness of his eyes, it was clear he was far from being in control. “Harrian… it is what she would want. She would not want to carry on like this,” he said, resting his hand on his friend’s shoulder.
“You don’t… there has to be a way!” Harrian snapped, his voice breaking a little as his control wavered. “A way to turn her back!”
“It cannot be done anymore than the clock can be turned back,” Reynald intoned solemnly. He looked pale, worn, and surprisingly sickened by the situation. His hand had not gone back to his crossbow.
“She is not what she once was,” Anomen continued. “You can save her.”
Harrian looked as if he was about to lash out at Anomen, and then saw the expression on his friend’s face – remembered his anguish as he cut down Yoshimo so many months ago. “I… can’t…”
Anomen hefted the Flail. “Do you want me to?” he asked quietly, glancing at Jaheira, who was being kept at bay by the stern blades of the paladins, still making inhuman noises.
“I… no…” Harrian raised the Daystar slowly, staring at the blade marked with the blood of vampires. There was only one more person’s blood that would have to stain it today.
He looked numb and sick as he stared at Jaheira and stepped towards her. She looked at him without recognition, without familiarity, and this seemed to give him strength – as long as there was nothing of her within this beast before him, he could strike her down.
“I love you,” Harrian said fiercely, each word sounding as if it was ripped from him. “And I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
He struck.
