In The Cards

If only the perfect were worthy of love, then nobody would ever know it. As far as I'm concerned there are no perfect people, only people with different flaws and weaknesses. And thank the gods for that.

Excerpt from 'Ruminations Of A Master Bard'

It was midday when they came upon the caravan. The sun was high in the sky and the air was still, making the buzzing of the flies all the more audible. The smell hit Zaerini's nostrils at about the same time. The smell of rotting flesh, putrid and stinking, it was enough to make her eyes water.

"What is that?" Imoen asked as she pressed a handkerchief to her nose to keep from gagging. "It smells like…like…"

"Death," Edwin said and pointed at something on the ground. A broken wagon wheel, mute witness of some terrible occurrence. "I'd say we've found one of those missing caravans."

"You have," said a strange voice from behind a tree. A woman stepped into the sunlight and gave the adventurer's a wary look. It was hard to determine her age. She might be only thirty or so, but her hair was white and she looked weighted down with some terrible grief. Her eyes were pleading and desperate, but without true hope.

"Who are you?" Jaheira asked. "And what have you to do with this?"

"Nothing," the woman said. A spasm of pain crossed her face. "Nothing, except having seen the full horror of it, too late to do anything about it. I am Laryssa, if my name matters among all this needless bloodshed. Death walks close by, and it wears my dear cousin's face." Her face twisted with unwanted remembrance, and she wrung her hands. "Please, I beg of you to go no further! Brage is there, strewn about with the carnage he has wrought. I have tried to reason with him but it is as if he is possessed by another's soul. It was all I could do to flee the swing of his tremendous blade. Please, unless you wish to witness madness in a once-good man, leave him be and pray the spirit leaves him in good time."

"Brage?" Zaerini asked. "The Captain of the Nashkel Guard?"

"Aye," Laryssa said. "Before this curse befell him, he was Captain of the Guard in Nashkel. I am his cousin, Laryssa. For all the bonds of love and blood, save him from his present agony if there be a way to do so."

"How can you defend this man, cousin or not?" Jaheira asked with a dismissive shake of her head. "We have heard of what he did. Did he not slaughter his entire family, wife and children both? Such are the actions of a monster, not a human being!"

"My cousin is no monster!" Laryssa angrily protested. "He is still a man, but a man insane. He would never have done such a thing had he been himself. He loved his wife, he loved his children. He was a good man, a strong man. Never would he murder his own family or harmless travelers like this were he not under some dark influence." She paused, and tears came into her eyes. "I hate the things that he has done," she said in a quiet voice. "But he is my cousin, who was always as close to me as a brother. I hate his actions, but I still love him. I beg of you, do not harm him."

Zaerini looked at the woman. Laryssa seemed perfectly sincere, and the bard felt touched by her sorrow. Dark influence, she thought. At least I know what that feels like. And she truly loves him.

"I will try," she said. "But I can promise you nothing. If it becomes necessary I'm going to have to defend myself."

"I understand," Laryssa said and bowed her head. "I…will wait here. Please, just…just try."

The stench of death grew stronger as the adventurers pressed on through the forest, as did the buzzing of the flies. Eventually they emerged into a clearing, and were greeted by a terrible sight. Wagons broken on the ground, goods carelessly tossed about, they were the least of it. The corpses were everywhere. A dead horse lay close by, its dark coat covered with blood. Its mouth was still open in a silent scream. Flies crawled all over it, a black and buzzing cloud. And then Rini turned her head and saw the other, smaller bodies. Humans, she thought. Men, women, even children. Not that it was very easy to tell which was which anymore. Their bodies…their bodies were…in…in pieces. Many pieces.

Rini found herself staring, unable to look away, unable to focus her thought. Wild, disjointed images burned themselves into her brain. Blood. So much blood. It was everywhere. Something round on the ground, something that might have been a rock but wasn't. Flies covering it like a crawling black beard, broken eyes staring sightlessly into the glaring light of the sun. A woman's arm, stretched out as if in supplication, fingers reaching for the sky. Where is the rest of her? And then the smallest bodies, the ones that were the worst to look at.

Behind her Zaerini could hear Imoen vomiting noisily onto the ground, Khalid stammering words of comfort in a terrified voice. "Sil-Silvanus preserve their souls," Jaheira whispered, and there was true horror in the druid's voice as she saw the carnage.

"Senseless," Edwin whispered. "The man must be truly insane to take pleasure in such random slaughter. We must be prepared to kill him quickly, he will likely be extremely dangerous."

Zaerini didn't answer. The buzzing of the flies resembled the voice of Bhaal, gorging on the dead, getting fat and bloated on their suffering. Reveling in it. The image of Gorion came back to her, lying on blood-soaked ground in a forest so similar to this one, cut down like these people had been as he tried to defend her. As these dead had tried to defend their children, tried and failed. She heard a soft noise, and knew that it was herself, moaning quietly. So easy to give in to the hate, so easy to let it bloom into mindless rage.

Steady, kitten, Softpaws warned. The black cat twined herself around the half-elf's legs and watched her with unwavering green eyes. The way to trap a rabid beast is not to become one. You must keep control of yourself if you wish to overcome your father's killer.

I…know. But it is hard. So hard.

I am here to help you, kitten. Always.

And then he came. Brage strode out of the forest, sword in hand and stopped dead as he saw the adventurers. He was a tall man, strong and powerful, with fair hair and a rather handsome face. The sword he carried was a beautiful one, very large and decorated with red stones at the hilt. The blade glittered coldly as the sun reflected off it, but not as coldly as the Guard Captain's ice-blue eyes. They were empty those eyes, hard and shallow like precious stones. And yet…not entirely empty. There was something beneath the surface, Zaerini thought. Some remnant of frantic emotion, like a man trapped behind a thick sheet of glass, unable to speak, unable to move.

"Greetings, playthings," Brage said in a melodious voice. "You have found me…where I alone could not."

"Oh, lovely," Edwin said. "Another madman. Listen, Mr-Armed-and-dangerous, why don't you just drop the sword? Or do you want me to tell my invisible army of dragons to fry you to a crisp, you soft-brained child-killer? (A flame arrow up his nose sounds lovely too, but I'm sure there isn't much brain left to damage.)"

Brage ignored him and focused on the red-haired half-elf. "I pray you left a trail of crumbs to lead us all back again," he said. "The others did not, so they have decided to stay. Shall we try to find the way home together? I pose to you a riddle, the answer to which I once knew, but now cannot perceive. Remind me, and we shall all return unto the day. Fail, and stay with me in the dark, forgetting whence we came.... " That faint hint of desperation in his eyes grew as he spoke. "It has neither mouth, nor teeth," Brage went on. "Yet, it eats its food steadily. It has neither village, nor home, nor hands, nor feet; yet it wanders everywhere. It has neither country, nor means, nor office, nor pen; yet it is ready for fight - always. By day and by night there is wailing about it. It has no breath, yet to all it appears."

Zaerini didn't doubt for a second that he would try to kill her if she gave the wrong answer or refused to try. Fortunately she had always been good with riddles and puzzles, and the answer to this one was right in front of her, as well as her constant companion and the subject of her darkest thoughts. "Death," she said. "The answer is 'death'."

Brage's face convulsed with violent tremors, like a mask about to crack. "I…am myself again," he whispered. "I…I am…" His eyes took in the destruction around him, the sad remains on the ground, and the sword fell from his nerveless and shaking fingers. "No," he whispered, and now it seemed that he was seeing not what was in front of him but some horror of another time and place. "No…NOOOOOOO!" The scream was heart-wrenching, the sound of a soul in torment, a soul longing for oblivion. "My own children," Brage sobbed, tears streaming down his face. "My beloved wife…all these other innocents. I did that. ME! The…the voice in my head, it called to me…and I listened. Helm help me, I listened to it!" His shoulder shook violently as he buried his head in his hands, sobs torn raw and bleeding from the bottom of his heart.

It would be so easy to kill him now, Rini thought. No doubt many would thank me. But…I can't.

"I will welcome the block that must await me at Nashkel!" Brage said in a dead, hollow voice. "How could I live with what I've done! Please, you must guide me to the town that I might pay for my crimes! I fear I can keep my senses for only so long, and I must not be allowed to do this again! Too many good people have lost their lives to me! Please..." He started sobbing again, but this time no sound emerged from his lips. He was simply shaking with quiet agony.

"No," Zaerini said and stepped up to the crying man, putting her hand on his shoulder. "You will come with us, yes. But I will not give you over to be hanged. There may be healing to be had for you in the temple."

"Child, be careful," Jaheira warned. "He is dangerous, he may turn on you any moment."

"I don't think so," Rini said. She watched Brage's sword. There was a dark miasma around it, almost invisible unless you suspected its presence. A curse, a curse strong enough to make a man turn his back on himself and destroy everything he ever loved, destroying himself in the process. "It was the sword, not all him. There is a curse on it, a strong one. It used him to kill all those people. It might have happened to anybody." She turned to the Guard Captain again. "Do you understand?" she asked. "I would kill you if you were still a threat. But I don't think you are."

Brage's face was puzzled and confused. "But…I deserve to die for what I've done. Why…why would you do this? Why should you care so about my fate?"

The half-elf was silent for a moment. "Because," she said. "Because I know what it's like to be under a curse, to have an alien presence goading me on. Because I know what it is like to know the darkness of your own soul and to love and hate it at the same time."

"I…I do wish to atone for my actions. But how can I, if I live?"

Zaerini gave him a small smile. "How can you, if you're dead? I can't make you stay alive of course, but I ask you to, all the same. Think of it as your payment if you will, my price for freeing you. Or as a favor if you so prefer. A favor to one of your own kind whose curse will be less easily lifted. And a favor to your cousin who still loves you."

"Laryssa? She…is here?"

"I am." Laryssa came up from behind, her attention totally focused on her cousin. "I am sorry," she told Zaerini. "I could not stand to remain behind. I had to see for myself what happened." Then she walked up to her cousin and put her arms around him. "You are back," she said in a quiet voice. "I hardly dare believe it."

Brage tried to pull away. "Laryssa, don't. You…you don't know what I did."

Laryssa took his head between her hands and looked him straight in the eyes. "But I do," she said. "I know you were overcome by a curse, and I know what that curse made you do."

"Then how can you still claim to love me? How can you even bare to touch me? I don't deserve your love."

The white-haired woman smiled. "Oh, my cousin. You really don't understand. Love doesn't obey the laws of humans, and it doesn't care about who 'deserves' it. I still love you like a brother despite the terrible things you did. Now come with us to the temple to make your atonement, and one day you may even be able to love yourself again."

Do you still hate this man, kitten? Softpaws asked in a curious voice.

No. No, I don't. How can I? It might as well have been me. The half-elf's face turned solemn. In her mind's eye she saw the flash of a large sword, golden eyes glowing with hate and rage. It…might as well have been me.