In The Cards

Despite your best intentions, there is only so much you can do to make another person change. In the end, we all have to make our own decisions, for good or for ill.

Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’

Tamoko raised her sword in salute, her eyes never leaving Zaerini’s. “Hello again, Zaerini,”. She said, her voice outwardly calm. “I fear this time I have not come to speak, and must take up arms against you. You have...you have done what you must, I suppose. Sarevok knows of my treachery, you know.” Her words fell like drops of blood into a still pond, seemingly peaceful, but tainted with hidden pain. “He has forsaken me, left me to die in your path. I must fight to regain his trust, his...attention. And so I stand before you, knowing that if I defeat you he will continue his plans elsewhere and I shall lose him, and if you defeat me, you shall go on to kill him. He will not yield to either of us. I have...I have no choice.”

“It doesn’t have to be like this, Tamoko,” Rini said, desperately hoping that she would be able to convince the other woman. “I haven’t given up on Sarevok yet. Let me pass, I will attempt to make him turn back.” Queen of Swords. So he has turned on you, as the Reading showed. But you are not my enemy. Not really.

For a second, the Kara-Turan looked hesitant, but then she shook her head, her face already set with determination. “No. It is too late. He slew Winski, you know. Slew him, when he was attempting to protect his life. The man who always was a father to him, in all but blood. That was dishonorably done.” Behind her, Rini could hear Edwin draw in breath sharply, but she didn’t dare turn around. “I confronted him about that,” Tamoko went on. “About that and…many other things. I told him…that if this was what he wanted to become, then I had lost the Sarevok I once knew.” A muscle in her cheek twitched slightly. “For a moment I thought I might reach him. But he is too far gone, and he would not listen. He called me…traitor. In his eyes, I am. Perhaps he is right. This…this is all that remains to me. It might have been better if he had slain me, as he did Winski. At least I would have died on his blade, cleanly. Not this…dissolving of the heart.” Her eyes resembled black pools, fathomless and filled with despair. “Now please…do as I ask.”

The warrior woman stepped forward, gliding across the grimy stones of the lost city like a ghost, her every moment purposeful, controlled. Faced with that mastery, Zaerini felt as clumsy and unskilled as a kitten attempting to wrestle a tiger. She had got much better with her sword, certainly, but she was by no means a blade master, and she knew it perfectly well. Close to panic, the thought of using magic occurred to her, but the other woman was too close already, she would have no time. Her friends would step in, certainly. But…she didn’t like the thought of backing off. Gritting her teeth, she raised her own blade, suddenly aware of the heat that flared in her blood, the rush of the urge for destruction and death that always lurked within, just out of sight. I will not back off.

And then, mere seconds later, Tamoko was upon her. Rini did her best to defend herself, but she was hard pressed to do so, and only Khalid yanking her out of the way kept her alive. Then, Jaheira and Yeslick retaliated, attacking the Kara-Turan from both sides, with Edwin joining in to slow her movements and impede her. Eventually, Tamoko was pushed back against the wall of the temple, and Zaerini stood before her once again, sword raised. “Stop this now!” the half-elf hissed. “I told you I don’t want this.”

Tamoko simply smiled, and then the Kara-Turan woman was grasping the bard’s sword by the blade, seemingly heedless of the edge cutting into her hands, and then jerked it around until it rested above a chink in her armor. “Just so,” Tamoko said, and pulled. “Just…so.”

Tamoko was on the ground, her life’s blood seeping out of her by the moment, a confused and rather miserable half-elf kneeling by her side. The warrior-woman’s dark eyes were finally peaceful though. “I…thank you,” she whispered. “If I not Sarevok would give me clean death, then you were the best choice.”

“But…what you did…why?”

“You do not walk the path of the warrior…but I wished to die in battle. I merely…aided you a little, once I knew that I would not defeat you. It was my prerogative.” Tamoko smiled a little. “You…are as stubborn as he is. My Sarevok. You will do well.” She reached her hand up, and gently touched the cheek of the redhead bending over her, wiping some tears away. “You…have his eyes.” Then she exhaled one final time, and she spoke no more.

Zaerini sat silently for a few moments, looking at the dead woman next to her. Then she rose, and in her pale face her eyes truly did burn as brightly as Sarevok’s, but with determination rather than with fury. “We will see to her later,” she said, her voice toneless. “Now come. Let us go meet my brother.”

The adventurers went on, pausing only so that Xzar could leave Abduh outside. The mad wizard claimed that the zombie would get too easily excited and eager, something that might cause all sorts of trouble. The interior of the old Bhaal temple was much the same as the exterior, as far as design was concerned. It was huge, gloomy and ‘decorated’ with skulls, spikes and grinning grotesques statues that lined the walls like sentries. On the far side of the vast expanse of floor Zaerini could make out a familiar figure standing on a dais. The spiky armor with the horned helmet, the tall and powerful body and the proud bearing all were instantly recognizable. Sarevok. Yet there was something odd about the picture presented, and finally Rini realized what it was. Since she first saw him, Sarevok had been a giant in her mind, a powerful and threatening presence. Yet here, in the temple of their common sire, he seemed somehow dwarfed by the monstrous architecture, looking surprisingly small and alone.

I wonder what he would say if I told him that. Probably he’d try to kill me.

Fortunately it didn’t seem as if Sarevok had noticed them yet, concealed as they were in the shadows near the door. He was pacing impatiently up and down the dais, staring at the ground. He looked much like a caged lion actually, restless and angry, and likely to maul whoever approached him.

This is it. The end of the road. The final hand to be played. And let’s just hope that the cards I hold are strong enough…

The half-elf patted her pockets, making certain that she had the items she would need. One for hopeful success. The other for failure. She hoped she would only need to use one.

As silently as they could, the adventurers crept along the walls, and the tension was enough to make even Xzar be quiet. Imoen was in the lead, checking for traps, and she carefully guided them around the giant Bhaal insignia on the floor, warning them away from traps too intricate and deadly for her present skill. Still, she did spot and deal with several others, and if she had doubted it before, Rini was now completely certain that her brother was expecting them. After all, the traps couldn’t very well have remained undisturbed down here with Sarevok’s big feet stomping all over the place, so they had to have been set recently.

They couldn’t remain undetected forever of course, and it was a very good thing that they had prepared before entering the temple, using as many protective and strengthening spells, scrolls and potions as they had. Saving them for later would do no good if saving them meant that there would be no ‘later’.

Sarevok suddenly raised his head, looking almost to be sniffing the air, and as he turned around Zaerini could feel those burning eyes staring straight at her. “Little sister…” that familiar voice said, in something in-between a deep growl and an intimate whisper. “I thought you would turn up.”

“Big brother,” the half-elf replied. “I wouldn’t have stayed away for a million gold pieces.” Her entire body was tingling with tension, and she had never felt quite as alive as she did in that moment, on the brink of death. The flames were singing in her blood again, but this time they were singing her own tune.

Sarevok nodded, and she thought she detected a hint of respect on his face within the helmet. “You are indeed family. No other could have lived to oppose me in person. Of course, it will not matter in the end. Ultimately I will prevail, and a new era will be born unto the Realms.”

Please don’t let any of the others interrupt now, Zaerini thought. Her friends had promised to let her speak with Sarevok first, and do nothing to interfere unless she was outright attacked. She hoped they would remember that promise, particularly Edwin. “A new era…” she said, sauntering across the floor in what she hoped looked like a relaxed manner. Actually, she was frightened to the point of wanting to throw up. So much depends on this…but stage fright is not an option. “But what kind of era will it be, brother? And more importantly…what will there be for you in that era?”

Sarevok frowned. “What do you mean? You are of the blood…you have felt the dreams, I know you have. The power of our common Father shall be mine, and I shall rule, unopposed and all-powerful, from the Throne of Murder.”

“Will you?” The bard crossed her arms across her chest, her eyes never leaving Sarevok’s, trying to stare straight into his soul. “I have had the dreams, my brother. And do you know what the one thing they’ve taught me is? Our sire lies. He lies, cheats and deceives. He will promise you whatever it is you want the most, as long as you do his bidding. He will threaten you with whatever you fear the most if you deny him. But in denying him, at least you remain free!” She raised her voice, and it grew more passionate, carrying to the farthest reaches of the temple. “He lies, I tell you! He will use you and abuse you for his own ends, and once he’s used you up, he’ll spit you out like a sucked-dry orange.”

“Orange?” Sarevok sounded slightly stunned.

“Don’t you interrupt me! It’s my turn to rant, you can have a go once I’m very well done! Don’t you see? Why would Bhaal be so very interested in helping you gain power? How does that help him? Don’t you think it’s much more likely that he wants to return himself, and that he means to use us both as tools for his own ends.”

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Sarevok spoke again. “You…sound like Tamoko…I sent her away. She…betrayed me…”

Oh gods. Please don’t let him ask me where she is. Please don’t let him…

“Did you meet her?” Sarevok asked, giving Rini the uncanny impression of having read her mind. “You did, did you not? You met my Tamoko. Tell me, sister…where is she now?”

You can’t lie, kitten, Softpaws warned from the shadows along the wall. He will know.

I won’t. I can’t. He…deserves to know. “She attacked me,” the bard said, trying to keep her voice steady. “I didn’t want to fight her…but she gave me no choice. She…made me slay her.”

Silence. Heavy, almost solid silence. Then, Sarevok jumped off the dais, his mailed feet hitting the stone floor with a loud boom. He strode towards his sister, and it was all Zaerini could do not to turn and run. “Listen to me!” she called out. “She made me do it. After you turned her away…she felt shamed. She had lost you. She didn’t want to live. I never wanted it…but in the end she thanked me.”

Sarevok’s steps slowed, and he stopped in the middle of the floor.

“You know what I think, brother?” Zaerini asked. “I think that Tamoko loved you very much. She wanted you…not Bhaal in your body. She wanted a life with you – not an eternity with the Lord of Murder. She wanted happiness. So do I. And I think, once, so did you.” She reached into her pocket, her fingers trembling as she felt the object inside.

The snow globe glittered as the half-elf held it aloft, snow falling gently over the peaceful house and the two children playing outside it. “You forgot this at home,” Rini said. “I thought you might want it back. Once, this was what you wanted, wasn’t it? And you can still have it. If only you turn back!” She held the snow globe in the palm of her hand, reaching it out towards her brother.

Slowly, painfully slowly, Sarevok approached, a strange and almost empty look in his golden eyes, his face rigid. Behind her, the half-elf could hear her friends’ rapid breathing. She didn’t blame them for being terrified. She could feel cold sweat running down her back and she saw her hand trembling. And now her brother was before her, so very close.

He’s…he’s so BIG! I didn’t realize how huge he is before.

This up close, Sarevok towered over her like one of the temple’s stone statues, but by far more menacing than any one of them, and he made her feel very diminutive and vulnerable. What does he need to become a god for? He’s already as frightening as one. Golden eyes, so very like her own stared at her without blinking, their expression unreadable. Then, Sarevok reached out his hand, his mailed fingers brushing her own for a second, sending further shivers down her back, and he took the snow globe.

Sarevok turned the snow globe over in his enormous hand, looking at the swirling snow and the two tiny figures, boy and girl, trapped inside. The world seemed to be encapsulated within those walls of glass, as silent and changeless as the scene inside. Rini had to remind herself to breathe. Please listen to me! She thought it to her brother, over and over again, willing him to listen. Please!

Sarevok raised his head again, and his eyes met hers. Emotions swirled behind him, as swiftly and chaotically as the falling snow. Confusion. Pain. Pride. Loss. Anger. Longing. Determination. Loneliness. Love?

And then, just as she thought she saw the beginnings of cracks forming in the armor around her brother’s soul, she heard the voice on the edge of her consciousness, that hated voice. Not speaking to her this time, oh no. She couldn’t make out the words, just a torrent of rage and hate pouring towards her, and she knew that she was catching the vaguest hints of the storm sweeping her brother’s mind. Sarevok’s face hardened, his eyes suddenly burning like the sun, devoid of all human emotion. Slowly, firmly, his gauntleted fingers closed, shards of glass tinkling to the floor. The tiny figures of the children lay on the floor, rejected.

No! Brother…NO!

“I have no need or wish for such trinkets,” Sarevok said, his voice vibrating through her very bones. “I have left them far behind, and my Father will grant me far more precious treasures than such childish foolishness.” He was laughing now, drawing his sword. “Little sister, do you not realize the truth? I am stronger than you, stronger by far. I fear nothing, nor do I need to. By my sword and the strength of my will I shall have what I desire, and I shall be crowned and anointed with blood in order to take the Throne. The power was promised me, and should our Father decide to renege on his promises, then I will take it! And once your death grants me your essence, I shall be stronger still. So come to me, little sister! Come to me, to your brother!” The sword was out by now, flashing with deadly light. “Face me! Face the new LORD OF MURDER! Angelo! Tazok! Reveal yourselves and let's finish this now!”

So it is to be the other way then. Oh Sarevok…it didn’t have to be this way. Zaerini reached into her pocket even as she dodged her brother’s sword, the other pocket, where she kept the other item. The scroll was in her hands now, one of the ones Edwin had acquired from some mysterious source. When he had presented them to her she had immediately seen their potential. Make Sarevok vulnerable to magic, something he was used to being impervious to, and he would be significantly weakened.

Out of the corner of her eye, she was aware of the people who had suddenly appeared on the dais behind Sarevok, no longer protected by spells of invisibility. The ogre Tazok, looking as large an vicious as she remembered him from the bandit camp. Angelo, sneering. A youngish looking mage, somebody she didn’t recall seeing before. She didn’t doubt that they were all very dangerous, but just now Sarevok was enough to occupy her. From a distance she could hear Edwin’s voice, chanting words of power, and the first spell launched towards Sarevok, and Xzar wasn’t far behind, having received the remaining scroll. Tendrils of white light flared up around the charging warrior for a moment, then winked out, and his steps slowed slightly, giving Rini time to finish her own spell.

Now Sarevok was coming after her once again, apparently having decided to take her out fast. She was dodging, dodging and feinting, and so far she had been quick enough to avoid him. The thought of besting him in a pure swordfight was laughable of course. She would have to use other means to win. Fortunately, she wasn’t alone. Imoen’s arrows didn’t do much harm, but at least they helped distract Sarevok a little.

Meanwhile, Edwin and Xzar were casting their most powerful spells towards Sarevok’s allies, who were still bunched up close together on the dais. Fireballs, poison gas and cold spells, all helped keep Angelo and the young mage busy.

Tazok was roaring with fury, engaging Yeslick in a fight, and the dwarf was doing his best to break the ogre’s kneecaps. He was already bleeding though, having caught a nasty gash in his thigh.

Khalid and Jaheira were by her side now, their blades clashing against Sarevok’s with deadly skill. Still, the son of Bhaal fought with more than mortal strength and fury, and the two half-elves were hard pressed. And Sarevok kept pressing on, relentless in his berserker rage.

Now, kitten! Softpaws called out. You have an opening.

Seeing that the cat was correct, Zaerini cast a spell, and hissing red balls of magical energy struck her brother, rapidly followed by a bar of hot red fire. Sarevok bared his teeth, with pain or anger. She didn’t know which. She wondered if he was surprised, if he felt fear now that he knew his usual defenses were down. Then she dodged again, taking a superficial slash across her brow that made hot blow trickle into her eyes. Crowned and anointed by blood…thank you, brother.

It was more difficult to see now, but she kept moving, dancing with the rhythm. The flames were dancing too, dancing and singing in her blood, and she danced with them, ignoring the hissing whisper of her sire’s voice.

Angelo and the mage had fallen by now, and now Edwin and Xzar joined their voices with hers, the language of magic forming an ominous choir. Magic lashed out against Sarevok, again and again, from all directions. And though he was still fighting, he was slowing down, clearly wounded.

Montaron was at Yeslick’s side, the two small warriors relentlessly attacking the huge Tazok, with Montaron making a particularly vicious head butt against the ogre’s groin, that made Tazok howl with pain and fold up like a drying leaf.

Sarevok! Give up! Just…give up! She tried to send the message directly into her wounded brother’s mind, knowing as she did it that it was futile. Even had she been able to speak the words out loud, he would never listen. He isn’t one to give up. No more than I am, Tamoko was right about that.

Finally, the end came. The magic was coursing through her, singing like the fire in her blood, and it burst out of her palm in a wordless scream, tearing into Sarevok. His eyes wide with surprise and pain, the large warrior fell, and the ground shook beneath him. For a moment he seemed to look at her. Then, it was all over. Slowly at first, then quicker, the mortal remains of Sarevok dissolved into tiny motes of glittering dust, which shone like tiny stars. They gathered into a dancing cloud, and they were rapidly swept away into the darkness, leaving nothing but a dropped sword and an empty suit of armor behind.

Zaerini knelt on the floor, tears streaking her face as she reached out and touched all that remained of her fallen brother. Then there was a hand on her shoulder, and Edwin was close behind her, whispering into her ear, his fingers gently touching her hair.

“Hellkitten…come away from there,” the wizard said, sounding deeply concerned. “It is over. You won.”

“Yes…” Zaerini said, her eyes still cast downward. “Yes, so I did. But at the same time…I also lost.”