In The Cards

If some powerful being offers you power beyond belief in return for you being its 'vessel' you had best remember something very important. To become a vessel you must first become empty. And vessels often tend to get broken and tossed aside.

Excerpt from 'Ruminations Of A Master Bard'

"So my little sister still lives," Sarevok said in an emotionless voice. The large warrior was standing on top of the Iron Throne building, watching the city of Baldur's Gate spread out before him. So many people down there, scuttling about like busy little ants. So unaware of the meaning of true power. So unaware of the future. The air was heavy and oppressive, dark clouds were gathering. A storm was in the air.

"Yes," Winski Perorate said, having finished checking the wards against eavesdroppers, as he always did when they were about to discuss their 'private project'. "So the reports tell me. Honestly, I don't know what Tazok thinks he's doing, employing all these incompetent assassins. By now I'm sure they've cost us as much as it would have done hiring a good one in the first place."

"He underestimated her," Sarevok said. For a moment there was an almost admiring glint in his golden eyes, and the faintest hint of humor to his deep voice. "My sister has turned out to be more resourceful than even I expected. It seems her blood is stronger than is outwardly apparent."

"So you underestimated her too," Winski said, a disapproving look on his face. "I hope you've learned your lesson."

Sarevok's muscles tensed like those of a lion about to leap and he raised his arm as if he were about to strike his old friend and mentor. Then he made a visible effort and the terrible rage faded from his face once more. "Perhaps I did," he admitted. "But no more. The people I've hired now aren't the idiots she's encountered so far. And if even they should fail, then I suppose I shall have to deal with her myself." He paused. "It is what I would prefer, were not all these machinations in the city hindering me. She has earned it, I think. The child of a god shouldn't be slain by mere mortals. No, it should be just the two of us. Brother and sister, together at last, the death of one serving the other. It will happen, Winski. My Father has shown it to me. He has promised me."

"She may be hard to find though. She seems to be constantly on the move. Even my best spells cannot detect her presence with any certainty."

"I will find her," Sarevok assured his mentor. "Or she will find me, if she survives long enough. Sooner or later, blood will call out to blood." The unearthly light in his eyes flared once more. "We are two of a kind, though she is by far the weaker. She has felt the dreams, has tasted the bloodlust. She brings chaos along with her, she longs to ride the storms. And the storm is coming, Winski. I can feel it in my bones." A mailed hand pointed at the darkening sky.

"Perhaps," the mage said in a dry voice. "Though I would say that in a thunderstorm a large man in metal armor shouldn't stand about on top of the highest tower in the city."

Sarevok chuckled quietly. "But then, Winski, I am far more than just a man."

Elsewhere…

"There's going to be a storm," Zaerini said as she craned her neck backwards to watch the sky. The air was pressing in on her, she felt as if she couldn't breathe properly. But far above in the sky clouds were drawing together, dark clouds about to collide. Lightning and thunder, destruction on a god-like scale. But afterwards, she thought, afterwards the air will be clear once more.

"So it seems," Edwin said, sounding rather disinterested. "Now, in Thay, the weather wizards would take care of that in no time."

"I'm sure. Now give it a rest, you've been going on about Thay all day."

"I thought you were interested," Edwin said. "You should be, if you want to travel there one day. (I'm doing something wrong, aren't I? She has to pay attention! She has to!)"

"Well, I am interested, but you've hardly talked about anything else since this morning. I'm starting to feel like you're about to sell me some lovely swamp land in Surthay."

"I…I don't know what you…"

"Oh, relax, Eddie. I was only kidding, I know you wouldn't do that to me. I do trust you, you know."

"I know," Edwin said. He didn't look very happy about it though.

Probably the weather, Zaerini thought. It seems to have everybody on edge. She sighed and wiped her face. Her entire body felt sweaty and clammy, her clothes were clinging to her in a very awkward way, and her scalp was itching badly. I really, really need to wash my hair, she thought.

So go ahead, Softpaws said.

Not by licking it, thanks very much.

Suit yourself then. Oh look. There are people up ahead.

And so there were. The adventurers were in a mountainous area, and nestled against the mountain ahead of them Zaerini could see an old ruin. It was mostly scattered stones in a roughly square shape, but she thought she could see where the walls had once been. Several men walked about the area, some of them poking at the ground but most of them occupied with something near the cliff wall. One of them seemed to be their leader. He was a man in his sixties, white-haired and slightly bent, though still strong and hale. He had a short white beard and sharp dark eyes, off-set by bushy white eyebrows. The sturdy brown garments he wore seemed practical enough, though Rini wondered a little about the hat, which looked rather as if some monster had eaten it and then spat it out again.

"Put yer backs to those shovels, men!" he cried out in a powerful voice with a slightly slurred accent. "If she's not out tonight we'll lose 'er to the bandito scum! It's not as if my scatter-brained son is here to help run them off. Gallivanting off to search for the Tablets Of Fate, honestly! Sometimes I wonder if he was dropped on his head as a baby." Then he saw the approaching stranger. "You there! State your business, but don't move from where you stand! I don't want to have to sic the boys on you!"

"Whoa!" Imoen said. "Take it easy, we're just passing through. We didn't mean to bother you."

"No? Good then. Sorry for the rough greeting, but it has surely been slow digging with bandits harassing us nightly. Charleston Nib, at your service. Also known as Mr Nib, Tomb Excavator, explorer and history teacher."

"That sounds interesting," Zaerini asked. "I take it that's a tomb you're excavating right over there?"

"Aye," the man said, his eyes glowing fanatically. "You are partially right, though it's not a tomb, but an ancient settlement. It is also all that remains of a primitive race long since extinct, and we know little about their culture save that they seem to have destroyed themselves in war. Perhaps today we will learn something more. We are just about to break through into an inner chamber, perhaps the dwelling of the village shaman himself. Mayhaps you could be of assistance to us? We need but keep the camp secure a short while longer. Your very presence would probably dissuade anyone from attacking us, though I do not know the force behind our misfortune. They seem to take great pleasure in minor sabotage and kidnapping, though some of the missing men may have just run off from fear. Nothing is ever stolen, which is odd for bandits, but they must still be the cause. Will you help us? As I said before, my son, Nib Junior, would normally be here to help me, but he's been detained with a project of his own."

Rini thought about this. The job actually sounded rather interesting, and the group would have to stop to make camp soon anyway. "Sure," she said. "We'll help you, as long as we get paid of course."

The man frowned a little. "We have little to offer, but would 50 gold suffice? It's all we can give, what with having to restock our camp thrice over. Damnable saboteurs! Your mere presence may be enough to discourage our mystery assailants. Are ye up for it? It would only be for a short while."

"All right, I guess. What do you want us to do?"

"Just wait here, I'll let you know when we clear the way to the inner chamber. I thank you for your assistance. And I'd certainly like to hear what kind of excuse Junior has this time for not showing up. Probably another sob story about giant snakes or evil cults…"

Hardly had the old man walked away before one of the diggers approached. He was a heavyset man with blond hair and an open and honest face. Or at least it looked open and honest. Zaerini thought his smile looked rather fake though. "Why, hello there," he said. "Could we just...step aside a moment and have a little chat away from prying ears?"

"I suppose," Rini said warily and followed him, motioning for her friends to stay behind. "What do you want?"

The man gave her a sideways look, as if he was sizing her up. "First, my name is Gallor. Second, we never had this conversation. I'm the "partner" of that old mister Charleston you met, except I'm none too thrilled about the non-profit aspects of the whole thing. The old man seems to think we should donate all our findings to some museum, whereas I am ever so much more practical. I should think certain people would pay dearly for the magical treasure we are about to unearth, and if they would be so eager, who are we to stand in their way? I would like you to steal the item and "remove" Mr. Nib from my little equation. You up to the task?"

Yeah, right, Rini thought. As if you'd pay me afterwards. No, I'm not going into partnership with somebody prepared to sell out his current partner. And besides, that Charleston seems like a nice old man. Let's see how much you know though.

"Magical treasure?" the bard asked. "I was under the impression that no one knows what is to be found there. Why are you so sure of its value?"

"Old mister Nib would never admit it, but that is mainly because he doesn't wish to jinx the dig. From what I could decipher in the ancient writings, the final room contains "the plate that provides bounty, leading food unto god." Doesn't take a genius to figure out what that means. Obviously the item under all that dirt and rubble is enchanted such that it "provides bounty." Whether it's through increased crops or good hunting, I care not. Regardless, an object of that age and enchantment should command a hefty price and I intend to see that it does. You can be a part of it if you wish."

I bet I could. A part permanently entombed in that dig. Or possibly many parts, randomly scattered about the wilderness by scavengers. I'd almost trust Bhaal himself before you, my friend. Should I kill him right now? It would be satisfying, but I have no proof, and Charleston would think I was a bandit trying to fool him. Perhaps it is better to play this more subtly.

"It's a deal," Zaerini said. "Nib is as good as dead."

"Excellent," Gallor said, rubbing his hands. "But just you make sure you do not attack them until AFTER they have breached the inner sanctum. It's unlikely you could uncover the item without their help. I will meet with you here after the deed to make our exchange. Remember to get everyone! I will be the sole survivor to tell the tale." He returned to his supervision of the dig, whistling cheerfully to himself.

"What did he want?" Jaheira asked once Zaerini rejoined her friends again: The adventurers were sitting some distance away from the diggers, resting as they waited for the tomb to be breached.

"First you have to promise to keep your voice down," the bard said, wiping at her hot face with the back of her arm.

"Why?"

"Because otherwise you might get us all in trouble."

"He wants us to do something nasty, right?" Imoen asked.

Zaerini lowered her voice to a near whisper. "He wants us to kill old Nib and steal the magical treasure he thinks is inside that tomb."

"Magical treasure?" Edwin said. "What is it supposed to be?"

"Who knows. Probably it's nothing."

"W-w-w-we can't k-k-kill an innocent man," Khalid protested.

"I never said we would. But I told Greasy Gallor over there that we would." Then she explained her line of reasoning.

"I do not like it," Jaheira said in a blunt voice. "It is a dangerous game you play, child."

"But those are the games with the highest stakes," Edwin said. "I agree that we should not help this Gallor. (Though I might have seen things differently hadn't we already given our word to Nib. Yes, very differently indeed.)"

And so might I have done, Zaerini thought. The thought was a shocking one, but she recognized the truth of it. If Gallor had been more likable, if he'd presented his plan in a more subtle manner, less obviously greedy… Yes. I might have agreed to it. I am good at killing, after all. And…I can't pretend I don't like that, though it frightens me at times. It keeps me alive after all, this skill of mine. It has saved me more than once. I cannot turn my back on it and walk away, it's a part of who I am.

A voice whispered to the half-elf, a sibilant voice on the edge of her mind. YES, MY DAUGHTER. YOU SEE, DON'T YOU? EMBRACE YOUR NATURE, REVEL IN IT. IT WILL BRING YOU POWER, YOU KNOW THAT.

I am not yours, 'Father' Zaerini thought defiantly, struggling to keep the malevolent voice at bay. I am my own, and I will remain free.

YOU WILL NEVER BE FREE OF ME. YOU ARE TOO GOOD A KILLER, MY DAUGHTER. JUST…LIKE YOUR DEAR BROTHER.

I am, aren't I? Zaerini thought. But then again, I am not like him. You've conned him into trusting you, you've sold him hay and fooled him into believing it's pure gold. Maybe he wanted to be conned, somehow. But I don't, and I recognize a scam when I see one. This girl isn't buying your 'Genuine Elixir Of Power'. I've drunk enough badly spiced wine already, thank you. I'm not paying for it with my soul.

YOUR SOUL? The voice was raging now. YOU HAVE NO SOUL! YOU ARE A CONSTRUCT, MY CREATION MADE TO SERVE ME. I AM ALL YOU EVER HAD IN LIFE! NOW COME TO ME!

But you're wrong. You're not all I ever had. I…had Gorion. And were I what you say, he never would have loved me as I know he did. I know he loved me. I know. I…remember.

The presence of Bhaal faded and retreated, became a muted whisper in the back of her skull once more. "Gorion…" Zaerini whispered. "He did love me…"

"Of course he did," Jaheira said and gave the bard a strange look. "Are you feeling ill?"

Zaerini shook her head. "It is nothing. It's just…this weather. I wish the storm would come soon and be done with it. I can't stand this clammy heat."

"Well, we are going inside the tomb now," Jaheira said. "Nib and his men have opened the entrance. Perhaps you will feel better once inside."

The tomb turned out to be more of a series of caves, none of them very cheerful. There were remnants of old fireplaces on the ground, old tools here and there. The walls were covered with paintings, paintings of strange symbols. Some of them were recognizable as people or animals, suns or lightning bolts. Others were just…strange. If you looked at them too long your eyes started to hurt, and then you could almost imagine them moving about, looking back at you. The air was stale and still, and Rini was really starting to get a headache.

Charleston led the adventurers through the caves, talking all the way. "Just through here," he said excitedly. "I believe it is the shaman's quarters. Finally we will find out what these people were like."

Zaerini's headache was getting worse and her chest felt heavy, constricted. She noticed a stone sarcophagus on the floor of this final room. There was a skeleton next to it, lying on the ground with its hand stretched out as if in supplication. The diggers who had come into the cave with them were also starting to look uneasy.

"Hey, boss," one of them said. "I'm not feeling so good. Are you sure the air in here is all right?" He was sweating heavily and his eyes were getting glassy. Zaerini just had time to wonder if the man was ill when his back suddenly straightened, and he faced her with a maniacal smile on his face. "KOZAH A PLET 'DAR CASS TOGLAH!!" he screamed. "KOZAH!!"

Other diggers raised equally hoarse voices, turned towards the sarcophagus and bowed to it. Their eyes were as empty as the words of Bhaal, Zaerini thought. Empty and hollow. "KOZAH A PLET 'DAR CASS TOGLAH!! KOZAH!!" Their voices were as one. "Q' AL TE-PAH KOZAH! SHE CAL KOZAH!"

Zaerini didn't understand the voices, but then it wasn't really necessary. The diggers turned like puppets manipulated by an unseen hand, they moved towards her with jerking, shambling movements, they raised spears above their heads. No time to think. No time to wonder about right or wrong. No time to do other than survive. Her sword was in her hand, gleaming coldly in the dark cave. And she let the sword speak, fighting equally hard to suppress the memory of her sire's voice. KILLER. DAUGHTER. KILLER.

When it was over the possessed men lay dead. Zaerini hoped they hadn't suffered too much. After all, it wasn't really they who had wanted to kill her.

"Awful," Charleston Nib muttered. "Simply awful." He gently pulled open the stone sarcophagus and pulled something out. It was a small idol, squat and ugly. "I...I think I can explain the madness that overcame my men," he said. "They seemed to scream in some ancient tongue, but I recognize the word "Kozah." It's the name of an ancient power; the name of a god of pandemonium. The tribe that lived here must have worshipped Kozah and the destruction he brought. The artifact that lies within this stone sarcophagus must be what has caused all of this bloodshed. Surely that artifact is cursed beyond belief! We should let it lie within this tomb forever. It's best that it never see the light of day." With those words he replaced the idol.

"I have heard about Kozah the Stormstar as well," Edwin said. "An ancient god of storm, strife and rebellion who was worshipped by the ancient Netherese. His worship was forbidden, and his temples were often hidden, like this one."

More dead gods, Zaerini thought. As if one wasn't bad enough. "Let's get out of here," she said. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I don't like the looks of this 'Kozah' much."

Rini walked out of the room without looking back and hurriedly made her way back to the surface. Those men were…swallowed, she thought. Used by that ancient power, spat out and discarded. As simple as that. As simple as what Bhaal would like to do to me. As simple as what he's done to Sarevok, I think. He may think he's 'embraced' our sire's power. I…think he's surrendered to it.

Zaerini's musings were interrupted as she emerged from the cave. The sky was really dark by now and she could hear the first sound of thunder. That wasn't really what bothered her though. Gallor stood there, a triumphant smile on his face, and he was pointing a crossbow directly at her. "So you betrayed me!" he said. "I should have known better than to trust a half-breed. I'll take the idol off your corpse then." And then he yelped as the crossbow flew out of his suddenly skinned and bleeding hand. A very small boy stood behind him, holding a very large sling-shot.

"Don't you touch that idol!" he piped up. "It belongs in a museum."

"Actually, Junior," Charleston said, "I think it had better stay right where it is." He smartly rapped the whimpering Gallor over the head with his cane and the treacherous man subsided into an unconscious heap on the ground. "Did you have a good trip?"

"Yes, sir."

"I really could have used you to help with those bandits though."

"Sorry, sir."

"You should be. Now come on. I hear there's this ancient city supposedly hidden near Baldur's Gate…"

"Hey, cool!"

"Here you go," Nib said and handed Zaerini her payment. "50 gold, as promised. I must say, you have the makings of a fine tomb excavator, dear girl. Perhaps we'll meet you again." He walked off into the forest, his son following closely. Lightning bolts were trailing jagged blue light across the sky now, and thunder rumbled closely overhead.

"I don't know about this," Imoen said. "Looks like a really bad storm. "Shouldn't we go back inside after all?"

"In there?" Rini asked. "With all those corpses and that idol close by. No way. We're much safer out he…"

She interrupted herself at the sound of a booming shout. "IthNal cOR dan osa KOZAH! Rrrackne dall'a osa KOZAH!" A large armored warrior strode towards the warriors and for one insane moment Rini thought it was Sarevok, though his form was strangely blurred and unclear. But this armor wasn't spiky enough, and Sarevok's sword, while frightening, hadn't been on fire. Wonderful, she thought. Good old Kozah again.

"What do you want?" Jaheira asked in an admirably calm voice. "I cannot understand you."

"Nottt for theeee to underssstand...," the apparition stated. "Neeeed only dieeee while youuu hold...idolll does soo commannnnd...Eltor anSle osa KOZAH!" It swung it's flaming sword wildly at Khalid who only narrowly managed to dodge it.

"The sword!" Imoen cried out as she fired an arrow. "It's transparent! I think it's not really real." It was real enough though. Edwin had summoned up a group of Xvarts and the small blue men were rapidly getting hacked to pieces. They did help keep the ghostly warrior away though. And then Jaheira cast a spell that made the flaming sword flicker white for a moment before it faded like an extinguished candle. The warrior roared as his shape suddenly became easier to see than before, and a violent blow of his mailed fist hit the druid in the ribs and sent her flying. Zaerini was casting spells as rapidly as she could, acid arrows that made the creature roar with pain, but she didn't have many left. Finally Khalid, by now battered and bloody, managed to pierce the armor between neck and helmet. A violent red light flared up against the spectral warrior and it faded into nothingness with a final scream of "KOZAH! The idolllll……"

For a few seconds the adventurers just looked at each other, grateful that they were all alive. Jaheira winced slightly as she touched her side and Zaerini knew that the druid had to be in great pain. Imoen shivered. "But I don't understand," the pink-haired thief said. "That…that thing…it was after the idol, wasn't it? But we left it in the cave, so why would it go after us?"

"I don't know," Zaerini said slowly. Then a thought struck her and for a moment her eyes burned hot with golden fire. Then it subsided back into a dangerous glimmer. "Unless… unless somebody picked it up again. Oh, Edwin… You were the last one out, weren't you? Would you happen to know something about this, perhaps? Did you see who did this?"

"Er…" Edwin said. He had a suspiciously innocent look on his face, and it suited him about as well as a fluffy feather boa would have done. "I have no idea what you are talking about. (I certainly have no particular interest in moldy old Netherese idols. Not me.)"

"Oh, really?" Rini was bearing her teeth now in something that almost, but not quite, was a smile. "Then you won't mind handing it over to me, will you? Or do you want me to do a full body search?"

"Actually…"

"Better yet," the bard said. "I think I might let Jaheira do it. You don't mind, do you Jaheira?"

The druid cracked her knuckles and gave Edwin an ominous glare. "It would be my pleasure" she said.

Edwin paled a little. "Oh, all right," he said sullenly. "Take it then. (It is probably out of power by now anyway.)" He handed Zaerini the ugly idol.

"How kind," the redheaded half-elf said in a sarcastic voice. "If you've got any other cursed items that might suddenly summon undead warriors into existence I suggest telling us all about it now rather than later. No?" She violently threw the idol into the cave and was satisfied to hear it bounce down the stairs. "Take that Kozah!" she cried out. "I'm nobody's servant!" Then she fired her lightning wand at the rocks above the entrance and was satisfied to see a large heap of boulders crash down to block the opening. "And that," she said, "is what I think of dead old gods. They're much better off buried."