In The Cards

Fire can be wild and destructive, dangerous and capricious. It can burn as well as protect, destroy as well as give light. It is unpredictable, beautiful; it gives light as well as death. What matters is how you use it.

Excerpt from 'Ruminations Of A Master Bard'

"Aye," Yeslick said, stroking his beard as he walked, "my father was a miner, good and true. And my mother was a miner before him." Having been subjected to a number of Jaheira's healing spells and fitted with what armor and weapons the adventurers had been able to find on the dead bandits, he now looked much stronger and healthier. "'Tis a good thing they never had to see the mine of our clan defiled like this." He scowled. "That Reiltar has a lot to pay for."

"What can you tell us about him?" Zaerini asked. "If he's one of the Iron Throne leaders I figure any scrap of information will be useful."

The dwarf's face darkened. "Watch yer step around that one, lass," he said. "Reiltar is a pure devil of a man, his heart rotten to the core. He cares naught for anybody but himself, and he enjoys causing pain to those powerless to stop him. And yet he is cunning, and able to conceal his true nature to others. Once I found out what he was really like it 'twas already too late for me. Best pray that ye never fall into his hands, I would nay wish that on anybody."

That's cheerful, the bard thought to herself.

Probably true, though, Softpaws said.

Oh, I'm sure it is. That doesn't make it better.

"What about a man called Sarevok?" Rini asked. "Did you ever meet him in your dealings with the Throne?"

Yeslick nodded. "Sarevok," he said. "I recall the name, though I never met the man. Reiltar's son, I heard, and his second in command."

Foster son, I think you'll find. And by this time I'm pretty sure he's the one doing the commanding, whether Reiltar knows it or not.

It was at that moment that a scream echoed through the empty corridor, the piercing, despairing scream of a creature in torment, longing only for death. Rini felt her heart leap into her throat with the shock.

"Th-that i-is a b-b-bad sign!" Khalid breathed.

"You don't say?" Edwin said in his most sarcastic voice. "And here I thought it added to the already pleasant and soothing atmosphere of a dungeon with deadly traps around every corner and hordes of bandits wanting to kill us. After all, what would the Abyss be like without the screams of the damned?"

"I…I smell something," Imoen said, her face very pale against her pink hair. "Something…rotten. What is it?"

"Death," Yeslick grimly said. "Death, lass. 'Tis Daveorn's torture chamber in one of the rooms up ahead." He broke into a run. "By Clangeddin, I will nay allow this to continue!"

Crud, Rini thought to herself as she rushed after the dwarf with the rest of her friends close behind. I never would have guessed a dwarf could run that fast. I just hope he doesn't get himself killed charging ahead like that.

The smell of old blood became stronger as the half-elf got closer to the door at the end of the corridor, sweet and cloying in her nostrils and mixed with the stench of rotting flesh. The blood smell was enflaming her senses as it sometimes did, setting her mind ablaze with fury and disgust at what she knew lay ahead. The flames were dancing through her heart and her brain, and beneath them something craved the blood, craved death and destruction. Had she been able to see herself she would have noticed her golden eyes blazing as fiercely as Sarevok's ever did.

The room was more or less bare, with cold rock walls and floor. What furniture there was wasn't furniture as such. Rather there was a rack, chains, various cruel hooks and tongs and other implements of torture. Zaerini couldn't even begin to guess what some of them were for, and she was certain she never wanted to find out. But that wasn't the worst thing about the room.

The smell was stronger in here, the very air saturated with the stench of blood. The blood was everywhere, on the floor, splattered across the walls, even on the ceiling. Bits of flesh and…and other things were stuck here and there on the knives and hooks. That wasn't the worst thing about the room either.

A large ogre stood at the other side of the room, tusks protruding from his mouth in a cruel smile, dripping blood. One massive hand held a large whip, the other a wicked knife. As the horrified half-elf watched, the ogre raised the blade and licked the blood off it with a wide pink tongue. But even that wasn't the worst thing about the room.

The worst thing, the very worst thing, lay on the floor at the ogre's feet. It had probably been human once, but by now it was very difficult to tell for certain, since just about everything that could have revealed it as such had been…removed. It was…a lump. A bleeding, quivering lump, still moaning quietly without a tongue. As the bard stared, transfixed with the horror of it, it gave a final spasm and then was still. She hoped it was dead. She really did.

"So you have come to look at my handiwork," the ogre said in an almost pleasant voice, turning around. "Rather impressive, ain't it?" He kicked the lump at his feet. It didn't move. "Guess this one will think twice about being uppity again, eh?" He chuckled. "And so will his little friends, once we display him on the wall as a lesson."

The fires in her soul were burning even hotter by now, and the half-elf didn't pause to challenge the ogre. She didn't want some sort of fancy duel after all. She just wanted him dead. A flaming arrow shot from her outstretched palm and buried itself in the ogre's throat with a hissing sound, accompanied by the smell of overcooked meat. It was followed by an acid one from Edwin, and the ogre torturer was screaming as badly as his victims had ever done as it melted one of his eyes. Fires, fires dancing inside her head, and Zaerini was only vaguely aware of the fact that she was stabbing at the ogre with her sword now, too out of control to concentrate on spellcasting, with Yeslick and Jaheira to either side of her and Khalid close by. Then the ogre went down, but she wanted more, wanted blood, and wanted it badly. And she didn't care that her arm was hurting by now, didn't care at all.

It wasn't until she felt the soothing presence of her familiar's touch against her mind that she finally came back to herself. Was that Imoen she could hear vomiting somewhere behind her?

Kitten, enough. He is dead now.

Gathering all her willpower Rini forced herself to stop raising her sword. The ogre was dead at her feet, his body almost as bloody a mess as that of the poor torture victim. "E-everybody all right?" she asked her friends. At least they all were still standing, though they looked more than a little unsettled.

"Aye," Yeslick said. "So it seems." He gave the sad corpse in the corner compassionate look. "A bad business this. I knew that Daveorn ruled with an iron fist and that he was cruel, but not that…that he was up to such villainy. I should have known. He's Reiltar's creature, after all, and Reiltar would approve of this." He shook his head, looking disgusted.

"B-but why?" Imoen asked, obviously fighting to keep her tears back. Zaerini hastily moved over to put a comforting arm around her friend's shoulders.

"To keep the slaves cowed, no doubt," Jaheira said. "Few would dare rebel having been confronted with atrocities such as this."

"Well, it won't happen again," Rini said, her golden eyes still burning with hot determination. "Everybody, out of the room. Edwin, stay here would you? I'm not going anywhere until this place is cleansed."

"Are you certain?" the wizard asked. "We may need those spells later on."

The rest of the group had moved out by now, and Zaerini lowered her voice so that only Edwin could hear her. "I know," she said. "But…I have to do this anyway. I need to do this." She hoped her voice didn't tremble. "The blood, I can still smell it, and part of me enjoys that smell, even as the rest of me is revolted by it. I must be rid of it…or…or I don't know if I'll be able to hold that part back for much longer. Just…just help me do this. Please. I…I don't want to turn into some monster. Suppose…suppose I hurt y…er…somebody I care about?"

The wizard touched her hand briefly, his dark eyes very serious. "I will never think of you as a monster," he said. "I promise it. Whatever actions you may take, you will never be a monster to me. Besides, I am a conjurer. Handling dangerous creatures is my specialty, what I do best. (And quite enjoyable it can be too.) I hardly think you're about to sprout fangs and attack me, but if you were to, I'm sure I could soothe the savage beast, as it were."

"Thank you," Zaerini said with a brief smile that made the wizard squirm and stare at his own feet. "That…that really means a lot." She cleared her throat. "Well. Shall we settle this, then?"

The two fireballs burst into being at exactly the same time, immolating the dead ogre and his unfortunate victim both, searing the blood off the walls of the torture chamber. Once the fire had burnt itself out the smell of blood was gone, and so were the corpses, leaving only some ashes behind.

"Does that help any?" Edwin asked once it was done. He sounded rather concerned, the bard noticed. Hope he doesn't think I'm about to freak out on him. "Do you feel better now? (Personally I've always found that there are few of life's little problems not solvable by a good fireball.)"

"Yes," Zaerini said. "Yes, I do. Thanks, Eddie. You're a really good friend to have, you know that?"

"Me? Er…I mean…naturally! I'm good at everything I attempt, and most things that I don't. Of course I am." He paused, looking anxious. "Er…do you really think so?"

"Yes. I do." A mischievous smile crossed the bard's face, her past worry and anger already forgotten. "Would I lie to you - Dread Wizard?"

And now the wizard was smiling as well, a smile that was rare in its openness and that lit up his face from within. "You wouldn't dare - Hell Kitten. You are no match for my magic, after all. Or my superior mind."

"That's what you think, boy. My mind can run circles around yours, even on a bad day." Rini smiled again, taking the edge off her words. "I think the others may be waiting for us, and we really do have to deal with this Daveorn person. I'm afraid the fight will have to wait for another time, entertaining as it is."

Edwin gave her an exaggerated bow. "Any time, Hell Kitten," he said. "Any time you so desire."