Under her Spell.

Neifion stepped through a glyph marked door, closing it behind him without even a glance in its direction as he strode toward the room down the hall of his compound.  He placed the book upon a stand in the hall then with each step Neifion allowed the persona to shed becoming Virgil once more. Gone was the dark tailored vest and shirt, the mask, hat and flowing cape only a simple white shirt under a red velvet vest and worn trousers.
He stopped at the mirror at the end of the hall confirming it was him in the reflection and not The Lord of Bats. A young man stared back. Older around the eyes that he remembered, grim faced and tired. He forced a wry smile to his lips and suddenly he recalled this young man.
This mask was a pleasant one. He would keep this one on. 

His fingers worked reflexively as they untied the plaited leather binding around his right thigh, before unbuckling his holster belt and gently wrapping the etched leather about it's contents and placing it on the edge of the table and poured most of wine from a nearby decanter into a rough wooden mug before taking a steadying breath and downing the entire contents tipping his head right back to drain the last drop. Closing his eyes as he drank it down.

Imagery of battle, torture and death flashed behind his eyelids, replaying the events of the last few months culminating into a final scene of execution.

Those images began to fade as the warmth and forgiveness of the alcohol began to embrace him.

Light filled his mind and that light then took shape. It formed the curve of a hip, the softest of skin, the most inviting of lips.

He allowed himself a brief moment and a smile. Before he felt the tingling warning of The Geas. It threatened him to stop this thinking. To stop feeling for her.

"Oh come now," mused Cynthia, breaking his moment. "It wasn't all that bad! You're the hero of Waterdeep! Everyone's talking about Neifion." He could hear her footfalls approaching and still he kept his eyes closed.
"Wanted by The Law. Feared by The Lawless."

He opened his eyes to see the red haired woman standing but inches from him eyes level with his.
"You've done it." She said with a tone of congratulatory satisfaction.
It took every ounce of will to not just lunge his head forward and drive his head into her nose. A notion Cynthia seemed to pick up on as she suddenly appeared seated at the table, smoking her trademark cinnamon cigarillo.

"Your work over the last few ten-day have bought a semblance of balance back to Waterdeep. Crime is down back in Undermountain. Corruptions have been rooted out and dealt with. The Cult of The Dragon lost an ally they didn't even know they had." She explained, counting the points off on fingers with shimmering pearl fingernails. "And, you also made some new friends. That watchman and his merry bunch of misfits seem nice!"

"They tried to arrest me at every turn."

"Nicely." She added with her charming smile. Pausing to draw in the smoke and exhale lt slowly. "I've heard whispers that your friends are on their way back to Waterdeep. You should join them at The Hoard."

Virgil's head cocked slightly to the side
"This isn't a joke, Cynthia." He growled.

"And I'm not joking," cutting him off. She waved a hand before her, leaving a streak of arcane energy that lingered in the air for a moment. He felt the mental restraint of the geas lifted from him like the weight of worlds suddenly gone. She leaned forward at the table pointing a finger at him.
"Don't force me to go this far again," she said coldly. "No one else could have achieved what you have done here. No one else! You need to understand your role in protecting Waterdeep goes beyond that of your companions."

She was right. He knew it now. Virgil would never forgive her for forcing him like this. Yet Neifion would forever be in her gratitude.

She again appeared before him. A soft finger running down his lips, chin and neck before placing her hand over his heart. She kissed him and he did not resist for he could not. As their mouths locked he felt a jolting surge of power enter his body. Cynthia wrapped a hand around his neck, grabbing his hair roughly. The other around his waist holding him to her. He felt as if he were about to break apart as his entire body contorted and jolted. He could see nothing but a searing emerald light. Then he was on the floor alone and gasping for breath. Power flowed through him. His body and mind renewed.

"Your mind is free once more, Virgil
I lend you more of my power as is your reward and right." The voice now an echo in his mind.  "You are free to pursue The Cult of The Dragon outside of Waterdeep once more. But listen for my call."

He would always listen. He understood his need. His worth.

He would always listen.

The Watch

Patrols had been doubled since the attack by the Cult of The Dragon that had been thwarted by a band of heroes. Despite the severity of the attack, no additional backlash had been seen upon the streets, yet the Masked Lords had decreed that defences be intensified until further notice.

Swordcaptain Fasille led his unit of the City Watch along the routes within his section of Waterdeep. It had been a relatively dull night in the City of Splendours. A few checks on passers by, inquiries as to their business at this hour. Nothing out of the ordinary.

He heard a yawn coming from his unit, the night had been long and quite forgettable in terms of excitement. Aside from their uniforms, they were indeed a motley looking bunch. Fasille himself was a stocky man with a neatly cropped short hair and a well groomed beard. Behind him standing nearly a clear head taller were two women, twins it seemed as their features, right down to their braids and the grim visage they wore upon their faces were near identical. 

Next, a leathery winged, red skinned figure skulked along with them, His white mane of hair divided with two spiralling obsidian like horns that symmetrically flowed down the back of his head. Aside him, walked a robed figure, cowl covering her face, a gleaming elegant blade sheathed across her back.

"Keep your eyes open," Fasille said, voice stern. "Our shift is almost done. Give it your best."

Finally, trudged a young man with blonde hair, a pony tail clasped in silver. An immaculately pressed uniform adorned his handsome frame, accentuating his features. Crossed over his tunic hung a horn, simple in design.
His eyes rolled as an audible sigh dramatically escaped his mouth at Captain Fasille's words. He'd heard him say the same thing on dozens of occasions.

"All I know is that I've two more shifts of this and I'm, - " 
His words cut short as two bolts of emerald energy sizzled into the air, capturing the attention of the entire group with their blazing green light.

"Warehouse district," Fasille called out as he turned to his group. "Sobek, Silver, scout and return!" 

The tiefling nodded, his wings unfurling with a sudden gust he sprang into the air as Felinar Silverfeld's hands weaved an intricate pattern with a feather held between her thumb and forefinger. It left visible lines of raw magic and  coupled with arcane syllables the spell took hold and she followed the tiefling into the night sky, both speeding off towards the green beam's origin.

"Learis, Treja, double time. Wrinfeld sound 'Alarm' and 'Pursuit!'" Fasille turned and ran down the road towards the bridge, the twins right behind him. Wrinfeld sighed once more. 

"I had to open my big mouth," he said before blasting three distinct rhythms alerting other watch of their intentions. In reply, other horns in the distance sounded their acknowledgement and their plan to reinforce.


Sobek and Silver landed alongside the rest as they neared the street where the beams had originated from.
"Knocked out thugs, piled on top of one another. Two patrols closing, less than two minutes out." Sobek reported without queue, Silver nodded to Fasille in agreement at the assessment.
"A green hue taints the lamps." Silver added as Fasille looked forward to see the emerald glow.

Fasille nodded at the information. "Shields and truncheons. Cordon and contain." He took point, the twins flanking him. Ahead six bodies were slumped atop one another, bleeding and battered, but breathing.  Floating above them was an illusion. A glowing green flame surrounded by fluttering bats. 

"Silver?" Fasille said with a familiar tone, prompting her to turn and assess the illusion. Fingers moving quickly, eyes closed.

"It's a calling card," she said still concentrating. "A name. Neifion?" She ended the spell.
"Scoring in several places indicate unstable energies used in this scuffle," pointing to the burn marks on the unconscious bodies. She then noticed the another mark upon the bodies. Roughly, pulling the topmost thug from the pile. A tattoo. A small triangle flanked by two elongated ones.
 "Sobek, look!" said Silver with a tone of alarm.

He glanced over his shoulder, seeing the mark, before turning to the next thug and roughly dragged him down, rolling up the sleeve of his left arm."
Fasille noticed the reaction of his two most seasoned and experienced guards. "What is it? What does that mark mean?" He asked, before returning his eyes to scanning the environment.

"Asmodeus." Sobek stated grimly. "They bare the mark of The Lord of The Nine Hells."

What Happens in Waterdeep.

Cynthia watched the two young lovers asleep in each others arms. Admittedly, she had watched them for a good portion of the night and although her initial intentions weren't voyeuristic, that quickly shifted once she had attempted to reach out to Virgil and discovered what was transpiring. Cynthia needed to contact Virgil, it was important, but it could wait.

For what she was about to ask. It could wait.

The sly demigod impressed her influence upon him and his eyes snapped open.
"Morning, Handsome. Get some clothes on and let that poor girl recover." she mused as she lit a cigarillo while walking from the room and up the hall. "We need to talk." She loudly called back.

The smells of tobacco and cinnamon assailed him as he shot a glance back to the sleeping woman next to him.
Virgil had seen her awaken from less interruption than this and just assumed this too was Cynthia's work. Especially seeing that Stedd hadn't come bounding out of bed at the first sign of a strangers voice.

He swung his feet out of the covers and stood. throwing a loose shirt on and some breeches, clumsily splashing some water in his face from the wash basin nearby before heading down the hall.

Cynthia sat feet up on the table, a cup of steaming coffee in one hand, cigarillo in the other. Virgil took up a place opposite and poured himself a cup.

"What's going on?" Virgil asked, taking a sip of the hot liquid. It's bitter taste having the desired effect as he felt his senses sharpen.

"That cult you stirred up before you left," she began taking her feet off the table and leaning in. "Good job on that by the way." She complimented with an exhale of smoke, it's fragrance filling the room. Virgil nodded and let her continue.

"There has been a development on that front. Through your initial contact and my own investigation, I've determined that a few new powers are on the rise along the sword Coast. You need to come back with me to sort this uprising out and restore balance to Waterdeep's criminal and lawful element."

Virgil went to argue, his mouth opening but she raised a hand that literally stopped him from speaking.

"It's part of the gig, Virgil. You return to Waterdeep, solve this issue so that the others have a Waterdeep to return to."
She sat back, lowering her hand and taking a drink of her coffee. He felt his ability to speak return.

He felt the unease at this decision, felt the conflict within him. He also realised his opinion on this matter was moot.

"I'll leave a note." He said as Cynthia raised her hand again, this time it held a sealed envelope.

"Already done," she said flatly. "A lovely little note from myself explaining your requirement to return with me to Waterdeep so you may conduct your duties. Don't worry I'll get you back to them as soon as you're done." She confirmed in a sincere tone, slipping the sealed letter over the table. "Leave that with your dwarf companion, it'll have the desired effect should he happen upon it."

Virgil nodded, reluctantly taking the letter and moving back down the hall to the barracks he'd been provided for his companions.
All were present, save Mikarro who had taken a great interest in the workings of the ship they were all travelling on.

He left the letter standing on Ulfgar's belongings before heading back to his own quarters.

Obcaeco still slept soundly. He gathered his belongings and walked from his room, letting his eyes gaze upon her for a moment before moving back to the hall.

Cynthia stood at the end of the hall by the Red Door.

"You ready?" She asked, that wry smile still on her face."
Virgil nodded and she pressed her palm upon its ornate surface. Various locks and mechanisms could be heard responding to her touch. It swung open slowly revealing a long hall lit by sconces.

"Ladies first," Cynthia said, gesturing for Virgil to enter.

Shaking his head with a sigh, he crossed over the threshold leaving his companions behind.

One Night in Waterdeep.

Obcaeco and Virgil were shown from the palace walls after bringing the news of Agatha's brutal demise at Stedd's hands.

Darkness was in its full splendour as the lights of Waterdeep's nightlife dotted the skyline and soon they walked together amongst the bustling streets. A cool breeze surrounded them, bringing mostly pleasant scents of rich food and spices.

They had made their way quietly though the crowds for a few blocks, Virgil's eyes constantly darting here and there yet always finding themselves back to Obcaeco to linger. Obcaeco suddenly put a hand out in front of him, her honed agile form stopping him fast as a cart thundered past at a busy intersection narrowly missing a distracted Virgil.

"Your eyes see much," she said, not looking in his direction, her mouth curled up at the sides in that wry smile. "Yet they seem to be fixed upon me when they should be looking elsewhere."

"It's not my fault," he answered straightening his fine coat and recomposing himself as his eyes once again began their usual scan. "You distract me more than I care to admit."

There was a brief pause where the two just stood at the roadside as the city moved around them.
"Perhaps I can ease your distraction." Obcaeco said, grabbing his hand suddenly and leading him down a small alleyway off the main road and away from prying eyes.
Virgil's heart raced at this action, his imagination making several sensual conclusions before she suddenly stopped, releasing his hand and  flipping open a small pack she was carrying, extracting it's contents onto a nearby crate.

It was the outfit he had gifted to her so many months before.

"I believe some crime fighting is finally in order." She announced quietly and promptly began to disrobe behind an outcropping of old barrels stored there.
Virgil stood there stunned for a moment, before spinning about. Obcaeco's lack of modesty making his face flush.
A moment later he was tapped on the shoulder by the slender monk, adorned in the dark blue and silver lined outfit.

"Well I'm ready," she said, stepping from the shadows that offered her no seclusion from Virgil's magical eyes. "Your turn."

Virgil smiled before uttering the incantation that shrouded him in the illusion of Neifion.
He felt the shift in his mind also, the persona of this masked warden coming to the forefront, Virgil's voice and mannerisms stepping aside to allow Neifion to assume control.

Although Obcaeco could see through the illusion to a degree, she quietly marvelled at the physical transformation that took place when Virgil became shrouded in Neifion's mantle. His shoulders squared back, his heart beat slowed to a calm, cold rhythmic tempo. Even his gait changed when he walked. No longer was his right hand his preference, being able to change at will depending on the situation.
He seemed to stand taller, more ominous.

She felt within herself a sudden rise in heat from the pit of her stomach as she became aware of the change in her own heart rate and breathing. Imperceptible to anyone who may have been observing, but to her, it was like a drum being beaten as if to sound an alarm. She cleared her throat slightly, forcing her attentions elsewhere.
"Shall we?"

The two leapt up onto the kegs then sprang upon the roof of the building. The stars overhead providing a splendorous sight.
"Dock Ward?" She asked and Neifion nodded as they both sped across the rooftops and walls of the Castle Ward.
Obcaeco's speed and agility made her look like a darting shadow in the night. so graceful were her moments that if anyone caught sight of her, it would be mistaken for a trick of the eye or some other fleeting thing.

Neifion pursued the lithe woman's twisting form, his magical abilities allowing him to keep up with the nimble monk in front of him. Black thorny tendrils shot from his device, grasping into walls and propelling him from building to building, aided also by his magical boots that enhanced his jumping distance.

They arrived the shadow of the massive stone walls of the dock ward atop a large warehouse giving Neifion a view of the entire area. Obcaeco's brilliant yet shorter ranged senses honed on their immediate environment while Neifion scanned the docks.

It didn't take long before Neifion saw their first quarry of the night. A woman carrying a crying bundle desperately running into a gas lit warehouse district. Moments later followed by a half dozen men cackling and hooting.

"Let's go." Neifion calmly stated as he sprang down the side of the building.

The soot faced woman darted from building to building. Her breath now coming in ragged gasps. She desperately tried to quiet her hungry child, the babe having none of it.
She made a final turn into a long corridor of warehouses, each illuminated with a small  natural gas lanterns mounted atop steel poles.
The woman reached the end of the corridor, trying desperately to open a door, any door that would take her away from the gang fast approaching. No escape in sight.

The gang closed hooting and jeering the entire time, stopping under the light of two lamps twenty feet away from her.
"We just want the baby, love," sneered one of the men wielding a wickedly barbed knife. "He's promised to us, to our lord Asmodeus!" At the sound of the Arch Devil's name the others shouted unholy words and made gestures with their hands to the night sky. She recoiled, clutching her child closer drawing a dagger and holding it out towards them drawing more jeers from the gang, her babe continued it's shrill wail.

The three lines of lamps behind the cultists suddenly went out in rapid succession, then the lamps revealing the woman and her babe blinked out. The child's cries being the only thing left coming from the darkness.
The cultists spun, brandishing crude but dangerous weapons, their teeth gnashing at the void before them. "Don't interfere lest you be next!" Shouted the lead cultist as the last two lamps providing the only light above them suddenly changed to a green flickering flame, shrouding the entire area in an emerald hue.

"Asmodeus has no dominion within Waterdeep." Came a voice that seemed to come from all around the half dozen cultists, causing them to back into one another and turn on the spot frantically.  "Here, Neifion walks!"

The final lamps blinked out as the woman clutched her baby watched on as the area was lit up with a blast of  green flame here or a bright burst of light there, screams and sounds of metal against metal and fists chrunching faces sounded out, suddenly the lamps roared back back on flooding the area in an emerald glow.

It took a moment for the woman's eyes to readjust to the lanterns in the street before she made out the heaped bodies of the cultists, bloodied and battered, but breathing. She suddenly gasped as off to the side she saw a dark figure, cloaked head to toe, wreathed black flames. It stepped forward and she shied back from this seemingly new threat, still holding the dagger. The figure stopped at her reaction and the flames surrounding it disappeared, leaving only a well dressed figure in black finery and a wide brimmed hat with billowing cape in the still night. The lower half of his face covered by an ornate silver etched mask that glinted in the rekindled glow.

"You are safe," He said in a strange ethereal voice, raising a device to the sky and loosing two bolts of bright green energy. "The guards will be here soon. Go to the Sea Ward and find an Inn called The Dragon Hoard. Speak to a woman named Lillian and she will see you moved to a safer place to stay."
The figure turned to leave and the woman reached a hand out, "W-wait!" she stammered. "Who are you?"

The figure half turned, "A protector. I am Neifion, Warden of Waterdeep. Pray for my protection and I will hear your call."
The figure turned away and leapt upward into the shadow and the night.

Some time later Virgil opened a door to his sanctum before he and Obcaeco spilled in, both laughing and short of breath.

"Thanks for the spotlight after the fight, Ob." Virgil exclaimed, removing his jacket and hanging it upon a nearby hook at the door.

"I believe in what you're trying to achieve here," she stated matter of factually dropping her pack and stretching out her arms and back in the hallway. "It was only fitting that you use this moment to establish your goal."
He moved down the hall and into a room before quickly reemerging with two glasses and a bottle.
"Drink?" He asked, moving into his personal quarters, the fire roaring to life as he entered.
Obcaeco moved to follow him into the room as Virgil hastily poured a drink for them both and downed his, still frantically reprising the events of the night, his voice full of excitement. He didn't notice that Obcaeco had stopped in the doorway.

Virgil, suddenly realising he was the only one speaking looked up from his recounting and watched Obcaeco move into the room, slipping off parts of her garments as she edged ever closer, her veil the last part of her ensemble to hit the floor before she stood before him, dangerously close. Golden and Obsidian eyes locked and he witnessed the unbridled power within her. His breath caught, unable to move as she stood but inches from him. Her mouth so close to his.
"Show me what happens next, Virgil." she whispered on trembling lips.
Virgil paused, ever so briefly, before allowing  his lips to find hers. 

Then, for the final time that night, darkness engulfed them once more.

Thirty Three Days

Day 1

Journal Entry. Day 1
Location: Outskirts of Waterdeep.

We are split.

Coming out of yet another, how should I put this, "less than trustworthy" performance from Stedd in the face of danger, we are now burdened with the additional duty of watching over Stedd's niece.

In case I don't survive for what ever reason, it should be recorded for posterity that Kerri, (Stedd's Niece), seems to be transition from "Human" to "Other." 

With our previous run in with The Hags of Baldur's Gate, I'd hoped that we had stopped this whatever curse had her from happening.  Despite our best efforts to protect her from this fate, she is changing into one of these evil freaks.

To top it off, Henry, in all is infinite wisdom has suggested that she come with us. 

I hadn't said a word after Stedd's latest episode of fear. That changed once Henry presented us with this latest great idea.

I broke my silence, suggesting that Stedd take Kerri to a safer place and lie low. Redlarch or Lirra's School.

Anywhere but with us. Dealing with this Dragon Cult nonsense was becoming hard enough with out the added treat of an ally turning and running at every sign of something dangerous.

I was surprised that Stedd agreed with us. It made sense to him and I was relieved, for about six seconds, until others decided against this course of action.

I didn't push the issue, being utterly exhausted by this latest round of bullshit. I pointed my horse in the direction of Daggerford and rode on.

Cynthia,
I've got nothing on this one. A little help would be appreciated.
If she grows a second head or something, I'll let you know.

V.C

Day 6

Journal Entry. Day 6
Location: Outskirts of Daggerford

I've kept as much of an eye on her and the others as I could without bringing attention to myself. Watching them all interact with her has given me an insight to their motives.
Our resident Dragonborn has kept close to her, at first it was subtle but the more I watched, the more I realised why he was keeping close.

V.C

Mikarro moved up and down the column of the Initiative's travelling rank on Filkati, his massive reptillian quadruped. Obcaeco and Virgil were following the road at the head of the group. Talk amongst those two had lessened since the Initiatives new arrival. Ulfgar kept his spot in the middle of the group. The usually jovial dwarf was now sullen and quiet, his brow in a constant furrow. Mikarro suspected this was due to his current attempts at alleviating the poor girls condition had all but failed with his ministrations providing only temporary solutions that soon reverted back.

Stedd looked haggard, eyes sunken and pale. This frail, sensitive human being at his most vulnerable with his blood kin undergoing this strange transformation. Stedd had barely slept a since her arrival. Wracked by dreams as rested. Mikarro had noticed this as he suspected the others had too.

Kerri clung to Stedd, riding pillion. He'd noted that at first, even Stedd's horse was unsettled by her presence. As he patrolled the line of travellers he visually checked in on her. The reports of her growing power worried him, although his stoic reptilian face kept these feelings well shielded to the others. Considering even her appearance was now vastly different to that of the sweet girl he had travelled with to Waterdeep, he knew that she'd be a talking point in any village or town if she were spotted.
He watched her closely while she trained with Obcaeco, who for all intents and purposes, had embraced this newcomer and was eager to help her develop her powers.
When they trained, his gaze was locked on her with every incantation she muttered, every motion she made as she practised.

Kerri's need to consume raw flesh is what effected the group the most. It was common for his kind to on occasion eat raw flesh when necessary, but for a young, human girl! 

He could see that everyone was abhorred by this behaviour, yet perhaps for Stedd's benefit, all remained silent.

Often he found his hand moving to his hammer instinctively when he saw this, stopping himself before anyone noticed.

He hoped her manifesting powers could be controlled.

He did not want to entertain an outcome where she could not.

Day 11

Journal Entry. Day 11.

Kerri's body continues to contort as her bones creak and extend. Her revulsion of standard food grows. She's now unable to eat anything but raw meat. Ulfgar has brought to bare all but the most powerful of his healing abilities his God has to offer with no real success. I can see it in his whole body that he's not used to this kind of failure. Trying to stay focused on our current task is becoming increasingly difficult as the group continues to pay more attention to the problem travelling with us instead of the real goal.

I feel for Ulfgar. Failure doesn't suit him one bit.

V.C

"Mother, bless us and keep us strong and unified. Bless this group as a family and watch over us as we undertake this task." Ulfgar prayed, eyes shut and hands clasped around his holy symbol. The metal of the two circles digging into his calloused palms and fingers.
"Mother bless young Kerri and grant her the will to cling to what makes her good and decent." His hands began to shudder slightly with the force of which he clasped his symbol.
"Mother, bless Stedd and impart strength enough to hang on for his dear niece. Grant him the grace to overcome his fears," barely pausing between each prayer, his words more fervently spoken as he continued.

"Mother, bless our protectors, Mikarro and Lirra. Their unwavering courage is a beacon of hope to our family. Guide their hands and hearts.

"Mother, bless Obcaeco and Virgil, that they may share each of their qualities in equal measure. Let Obcaeco's love of all things open Virgil's heart and let Virgil's resolve temper that same love with wisdom."

After a brief pause, Ulfgar continued, his own blood now oozing out between clenched fingers.
"Mother, I beg you. Grant me the strength to cure this child and restore this families spirit. Take what you need from me. I offer my all to see this done."

He opened his moistened eyes and wiped them quickly with the back of his hands before looking at his blood soaked palms. The twin circles having cut deep marks into them. He closed his eyes and breathed a restorative prayer, feeling the flesh of his hands knit back together with a tingling warmth.

He noticed Mikarro dressing a brace of rabbits that he must have gone out and caught during his final watch. He felt the sadness return to his face as he looked down on Kerri and Stedd. Both sleeping restlessly and knowing that at least one of those rabbits were probably for her, with the others going to Filkati, Mikarro's reptilian mount.

"Dragonspear Castle is only a few hours out," Virgil said in a voice that carried across the small camp, snapping him out of his thoughts. "We can be past it before mid morning if we hustle." 

Stedd, Kerri and Obcaeco stirred at the sound of his raised voice.

Ulfgar gave the young man a nod and Virgil nodded back. His face holding that neutral, emotionless look he'd been maintaining since Waterdeep. Ulfgar watched the lad expertly adjust his horse's saddle and harness before swinging up onto its back and setting a trot for a distance then into a canter. 

Had Virgil watched as Ulfgar poured out his most desperate pleas to Mother Truesilver?

He couldn't be sure.

Day 19

Journal Entry: Day 19

When I asked Stedd to leave on the outskirts of Waterdeep, It wasn't out of anger, or selfishness or even cruelty. When I think about it, which I find myself doing a lot these days, I realise it came from A place of defeat. Kerri's arrival took the last part of me that thought he'd be able to turn his fear around, become a hero that we all needed him to be. 

Now I can't even begrudge him his cowardice.

He has a monster to take care of.
V.C.



"Hold here!" Stedd heard Virgil shout from the front of the group.
He brought his horse to a halt quicker than he wanted. The tension in the reins caused his horse to jolt
and he felt the claw-like nails of his niece dig into his torso.
He winced but did his best to hide the pain, not wanting to upset her.

Dreams had plagued the small amount of sleep he'd been able to get since taking Kerri from Henry.
The days travelled blended into one another. At rest breaks he would watch Kerri train with Obcaeco. Watching and praying that whatever this change was that was consuming her wouldn't consume her humanity.

His eyes scanned the group, looking for any change in their moods that might indicate a threat to Kerri. He had to watch out. Had to keep alert. Had to keep her safe.
Lirra was already out of the saddle, stretching lithely like a cat warming itself in the sun. When Lirra's eyes passed over them, he felt their indifference, their lack of respect.
Mikarro rode past them, moving to the front of the column and he nodded briefly as their eyes met.
Ulfgar slowly climbed out of the saddle and dropped down, his shoulders visibly slumped, every day he'd helped Kerri with a spell or a prayer, alleviating some of her symptoms but this morning he hadn't even tried.

"Uncle, can I please go and train with Obcaeco?" he heard Kerri ask from behind him.
"huh?" he stammered, before the sentence formed and made sense a moment later. "Su- Sure, Kerri." He answered as she dropped from the saddle, causing the horse to move a few steps away from her.

"Come along, Kerri," came Obcaeco's melodic voice. " Let us work on your focus today."
Stedd forced a small smile onto his face as he watched the two move into a clearing off the road a short way.
For a moment Kerri was just a girl in a field, playing with a friend. The moment vanished back to reality as the wind picked up, making Kerri's cloak billow, revealing her gangly limbs and greyish coloured flesh.
"What am I going to do?" he mouthed to himself as he climbed off the horse, walking it up to where Virgil had sunk a steak into the soft ground off the road and gathered the other mounts.
He smelled the now all too familiar scent of a rabbit being dressed and prepared to cook. One lone rabbit from the brace being kept aside for his Niece's disturbing new appetites.

He sighed, hands on hips and head down looking at his own feet as a nervous sweat dripped off his nose. "What am I going to do?" he said to himself, closing his eyes.
Flashes of the nightmares he had played over and over again. Images of his sister and Omearon. Of his Sister's death! Of Kerri as a babe, his sister defending her from Omearon and a wicked blade!
He forced his eyes to open, finding him self almost labouring for breath.

Stedd's eyes locked with Virgil for a moment. The calm emotionless demeanour hadn't shifted once since their departure with Kerri. He could only hold his gaze with those eyes of pure darkness for a second before looking away not daring to look back save for a small sideways look.
Virgil had already gone back to tending his horse by this point. Had he just imagined Virgil staring at him? He shook his head. Not sure of what to think.
Virgil's silence was not helping anything. He knew the man he bonded with at Greenest didn't trust him anymore and why should he? He felt so isolated in these moments and he was truly terrified.

What could he do to stop this?

What could anyone do?

Day 23

Journal Entry: Day 23
Outskirts of Boarskyer Bridge.

When I first met Lirra I never would have thought in a thousand years we would be, friends? Business Partners? Comrades in Arms?

In all that is currently going on, her attitude and rationale to this situation is the only thing making sense to me. 

Obcaeco's naivety has been completely infuriating these past two tenday. Her incessant optimism has been a growing source of frustration.

Lirra's fiery temperament and whimsical personality will not be quenched despite all that is happening. She's not made a move towards Stedd or Kerri this whole journey. She's refusing to have anything to to with them has been one of the only grounding factors in this whole mess.

If things go south, She may be the only one I can count on.

V.C.

When the Boarskyer Bridge and the dozens of large pavilion tents that were set up on its opposite side came into view Lirra grinned.

She trotted up next to Virgil, his hat pulled low to ward off the bright sun. 

"Finally some other people to talk to than you lot!" She exclaimed joyfully. Virgil took no offence as he knew her well enough to know she meant none.

Lirra looked back over her shoulder to see the others closing in behind. Stedd had covered Kerri in his cloak, covering her increasingly garish appearance. 

She frowned openly at the sight of those two.

"Mother and Father would have been able to help those two more than we ever could," she said nonchalantly to Virgil as they approached. "Uncle Renwick would have her back to herself in no time. Maybe they could find Stedd a spare backbone."

If she intended to elicit a reaction from Virgil, she didn't show it. Her eyes not leaving the first real sign of civilisation they'd seen in over a tenday. 

Lirra's attention was caught by a sign nearby indicating an one of the larger pavilions was set up as an inn. 

"I'll go and set us up some rooms for the rest of the day." Lirra said before trotting ahead, leaving Virgil alone to wait for the others.

Day 25

Journal Entry: Day 25

Location: Trail leading towards Serpent Hills.

I knew she'd disagree with my outlook on this whole situation.
She's as much about family and love as the Dwarf is on any given day.

But how is it possible to immediately look past the horror of a moment to immediately see the good?

Her goal in everything is to bring the light to all who have lost it. To show through her actions that there is no opposing force that will diminish her resolve.

This, unfortunately, goes double for me.

She urges me to help Kerri. To show her the finer points of how I fight. To which I've flatly refused. I expect an argument, every time she asks me.

I want to argue. 

To tell her she's being stupid, that she could be training a thing we may have to someday put down.
Every day she's asks me to help. I refuse, silence being my answer. She smiles and leaves.

She sees the potential in Kerri when all I am looking for is a way to make it some one else's problem. 

We have bigger fish to fry without our focus being scattered by this.

She believes that there's a way for us all to help Kerri become more than this curse. 

She still believes in me even though I've done nothing is late to earn her favour.

V.C

Obcaeco awoke, sitting up and stretching before letting her senses adjust to her immediate surroundings. Ulfgar had summoned the days breakfast and it smelled delightful.
She moved to the area the food had been laid out, nimbly stepping over some jagged rocks along the way.

She walked Virgil who was sitting against his horses saddle, journal in hand. She a smile as she passed. Her hand touched the shoulder of Ulfgar as she knelt beside him and took some the warm bread and pulled a small part off before placing it delicately into her mouth.

"My thanks, Ulfgar." She said,  sensing him nod in acknowledgement.

"My pleasure as always, lass." He answered somewhat solemnly. His tone of late reflecting the slump of his shoulders, his posture in sitting.  She could feel the doubt in his heart. The uncertainty beginning to take root there.

She squeezed his shoulder again as she stood with her bread, widening her senses and detecting the others. Virgil had moved to the horses, Mikarro was astride Filkati. The great reptilian beast loped about the perimeter of the camp. Lirra was training quietly, putting her body through exercises to enhance her flexibility.

"Hello, Obcaeco." Came the voice of the young girl, Kerri.

Obcaeco tilted her head in the direction of the child's voice sensing her and Stedd approaching.

She smiled a genuine smile at the two.

"Hello to you both," she beamed as she finished off her piece of bread. "What shall we work on today, Kerri?" She asked, taking her arm.

"You," Stedd stumbling over his words in a low tone, "you don't have to do this, Cake."

Obcaeco only smiled to Stedd, gently wresting Kerri away from him.

"Breakfast is served, Stedd. Go and get yourself some food and drink," Obcaeco gestured with her free hand back to the camps direction. "Kerri and I will be over here." Pointing in the opposite direction to a clearing not too far off the trail.

Stedd went to object, then suddenly realised that he didn't have it in him to do so. Obcaeco sensed his hesitation and merely smiled, bowing slightly before turning with Kerri and heading for the nearby clearing. A slight breeze caused the long grass in the area to dance and sway, the sound of its whisper pleasing her.

"Why are you helping me, Cake?" Kerri asked. Obcaeco continued to walk with her toward the clearing. "Aren't you worried like the others?"

She wasn't oblivious to this girls plight. In fact she was the more attuned to it than anyone else. Yet she also knew that this poor girl was in a state of transition so horrifying to her and those around her that she flatly refused to allow that horror to ostracise her from Kerri.

Without hesitating she answered, "We train to focus our talents that we may use them to benefit others that are in need of them." 

They walked together a few more paces in silence before Kerri spoke up.

"But how can I anyone when I look like, like this?" She held her clawed arms out in front of her.

"I cannot see you like others do, Kerri. Your appearance does not determine your heart." She explained, pausing to face the girl. "And don't let anyone tell otherwise."

Kerri's stifled tears flowed and Obcaeco drew her close, holding her, soothing her with quiet a quiet
'shh', like a mother would with a crying babe.

Obcaeco knew now more than ever that she may be the only thing stopping Kerri from believing she was a monster.

She took no pride in this. Expected no adulation. She would do what she believed was right. 

She would not judge the fear beset in her companions. 

She would not scorn the man who she cared for so much.

For what kind of monster would she herself become if she didn't help Kerri?

Day 33

Journal Entry. Day 33

Outside some bloody crypt in the Serpent Hills.

Where to start....
Cynthia, if you're reading this (and I hope you are), skip to the end for the important stuff. If you want to read on, sit down, grab a drink. It's been one hell of a ride.

In the last eight days I've  been able to track my way into this gods awful place. 

We encountered yet another hag during our watch. She approached us willingly, baring gifts. The gift of information. Stedd ended her life. I was truly impressed.

We now have a name and a possible means to give Kerri some semblance of a future.

From what we now know it sounds like her fate to become a hag is sealed. However, it looks as if we can grant her freedom of mind. She will retain her will.

This is somewhat of a consolation prize in the long run. Her young life will be forever changed by this event.

Another good thing at least to come from this new information was the galvanising effect it has had upon the group. We all agree that once this Dragon Cult leader has been grabbed, we will go after the hag behind the whole thing. I can use this new drive to achieve our goals in the long term. The group is far more open to ideas when they believe they're doing the right thing.

We arrived at the crypt this morning to find corpses of men and women strewn about.
With some warning and luck we survived an ambush from the Cult of The Dragon.
We all faced, Stedd included, another red dragon and it's allies and won.

The only issue with this current attack was that they knew we were coming. Either we've proven a big enough threat that they're tracking us somehow by magical means, or we are leaving a trail of our own, either accidentally or intentionally.
We turned out all our pockets in case we were carrying something that they were using to track us and have taken cautionary steps. We wont know if it is enough or not at this point.

V.C

P.S - 

Cynthia, we have the name of the hag behind this whole mess with Kerri.
Grandmother Agatha.
Can you sniff around and find out any information as to her whereabouts. She will be our next target.
Also,
I know I'm asking a lot, but if you've got means to figure out how we're being tracked, that'd be good to know.
- Virgil.

Cynthia - Interlude.

Virgil's book glowed the dark red that he'd come to despise. This woman in charge, Cynthia had come in and thrown her weight around, changing this and that, his lovely green flames now this vile crimson colour.

He stared at the cover, not wanting to open it. His reluctance came from a fear of what he might become if he was stripped of his powers. What if this new Neifion took from him the one thing that had turned his life to good?

Could he go back to being, Just Virgil?

Additionally, he hated that fucking red glow.

He stuffed the journal back into his satchel and sealed it away, before settling down for the night.
The campfire crackling lightly as Mikarro and Lirra took watch.

He tipped his hat over his face and settled back into his bedroll, sleep coming easily despite after the events of the last few days.

The dreams came again. A dream that was becoming more and more common. It was a welcomed dream.
Bodies writhing, sensations heightened. A distortion of light and reality.
His focus cleared, expecting to see the face of a the woman he longed for. To his surprise it was a face that took him a moment to recognise.
Cynthia!

"Do I have your attention now?" She cooed, a smirk on her face.

Virgil flung her from atop him and the scene shifted quickly and seamlessly, to a scenario of his sanctuary and the familiar crackle of the fireplace near the round table set with a deck of cards, two chairs aside it. Cynthia sat, feet upon the table a cigarillo between fingers. It's smoke permeated the room with a rich wooden tobacco scent.
She wore a short sleeved vest of shiny black material, buttoned across her chest save the top two, leaving nothing of her figure to the imagination. Her legs clad in a similar black material and long boots worn over them that were embossed with a tangle of thorns.
Her long brown hair fell across her shoulder onto her bare arms. the flickering light of the fire catching in the sheen from it.

"You don't call, you don't write." She said, taking the Cigarillo between her lips and drawing back the smoke, its red tip flaring.
"What is a girl meant to think?" she asked after a long exhale. The smoke wafting in his direction. Her voice carrying a overacted tone of incredulity.

Virgil noted the still reddish tinge of the firelight. The tint she had inflicted upon his sanctuary as part of showing off her new dominion over him and the others. 

She'd killed and clawed her way to a point where she'd amassed enough power to overthrow a greater denizen of the fey and usurp it's power for her own. 

Thankfully, he was clothed again, making this dream a little more bareable. He moved closer to the table and Cynthia's leg shifted, nudging the pushed-in chair back, allowing him to sit across from her. He did so, one hand reflexively falling to the deck of cards. He felt their weight, their shape, before beginning to shuffle the deck, not taking his eyes from hers.

"I was just doing what you asked," he began. "Keeping out of your way, doing my own thing."

He dealt two out each and placed four down in the centre between them, face down.

"I guess there's no point in actually playing, huh?" he asked. Taking a quick peek down at his cards before returning his eyes to the woman opposite her.
She kept her eyes on him taking a slow glance down at her cards before looking back to Virgil.
No twitches, no tells.

"Oh no," she replied keeping her eyes steeled on his. "This is your dream. I'm just visiting. And I wouldn't dare cheat."
Virgil left his cards where they were leaning in and dropping any pretence of playing the hand.

"You know what I'm working on right now, don't you?" He said. "You know what's at stake?"

Cynthia nodded as he spoke, taking in his words before she too leaned in, mimicking his movements.

"I didn't at first," she answered, "I was busy trying to overthrow an archaic and corrupt institution, so I was a little preoccupied."

Virgil scoff was cut short as she continued, raising her index finger as if to silence him.

"But! A short time after taking control, I took stock of what each Shade was dealing with and I've got to admit, You've got your work cut out for you."  she paused a moment to take a deep draw of her cigarillo before offering it to her reluctant charge. "I didn't expect someone in my order would be at the tip of the spear in an offensive to thwart The Cult of The Dragon."

Virgil reached out with a calm hand, taking the cigarillo from her before placing it between his own lips and drawing in the tobacco.

"You can keep that," She remarked, smoke coming out of her nose and mouth as a lithe hand reached into her jacket hanging from the she was seated on. A brief rummage later, Cynthia placed a small silver box on the table, producing another cigarillo from within.

"Alright," Virgil says exhaling sharply, "You've got my attention. What do you want?"

"I want to offer you, My dear Virgil, My full assistance." She states before adding quickly, "And assurance that I am not here to hinder your task."

"Good, you can start by changing the fucking fire in here and the colour of Thorne back to green." He says bluntly, allowing an heir of frustration within his voice to show.

"Done!" She says chuckling, waving her hand. as the familiar greenish tinge returned to the room. "That was not the first request that I was expecting," She admitted, still smiling that charming, perfect smile that Virgil couldn't deny was alluring.  He could taste something on his lips, left on the cigarillo that Cynthia had passed to him. Cinnamon?

"That's it." Virgil stated,  before his face became stern, "oh, and don't strip me of my powers. People are depending on me now. It's not just about me any more." It was then that Cynthia saw it for a moment, a crack in his perfectly unshakeable visage. His face had the intimidating coolness that he so often wore, but his eyes.
His eyes were pleading.

Cynthia kept her demeanour in check, not wanting to show that she'd seen Virgil's tell.
"Virgil," she began, her tone warm and assuring, "You and your predecessor are what I am looking to cultivate within our order." She kept her smile sincere, "You need not fear me, so long as you keep doing this good work."

He nodded, relieved to hear the words he needed to believe were true.
"Well in that case, would you mind letting me get back to sleep?" He asked, a wry smirk forming on his face. "Big day of 'hero stuff' tomorrow."

Cynthia let out a loud "Ha!" Before standing and drawing her jacket from the chair and swinging it across her shoulders.  "I interrupted quite the sweaty dream," She cooed again in that same tone he heard earlier in the night. "You had no intention of any restful sleep."

Virgil dropped his gaze and stood also, left without words to say.
Cynthia moved from the table towards the exit. "You should really make that dream a reality, she's cute, and so very strong." She added, stopping inches from Virgil's face. He could smell the cinnamon on her breath as she stood dangerously close.
"Unless you want to make ours a reality." She said, her seductive presence brought to bare. Virgil pointed  down the hall, keep his eyes on hers.

"Door's that way. Let yourself out."

Cynthia shrugged and nodded before walking past him down the hall.
"Well, if you ever change your mind, you know how to find me." She stopped at the door and opened it, looking back over her shoulder.
"There's perks to be had for bedding the boss."

"In your dreams, perhaps." Virgil retorted. "Not mine."

Poker Face.

The newly formed hall in Virgil's sanctum stood empty before him, unlit and hollow. It's stonework, beautiful and unblemished, save the two dozen scorch marks on the back wall.

Sleeves rolled up, jacket and wide brimmed hat thrown unfavourably in a corner, Virgil readjusted Thorn's ornate holster to a new position before buckling it again. He hoped this new angle would allow Thorn to be easily drawn and brought to bare. He knew this new position left Thorn visible, presented to any that would stand before him. Gone now was any pretence for  discretion.

Virgil used his powers of Prestigitation and summoned two small floating illusory targets before closing his eyes, hand poised above Thorns ornate grip.
Muscles sprang as he opened his eyes and went for Thorn. His hand found the grip and he drew, loosing two bolts in rapid succession.
The first came close, finding the wall just to the side of the conjured target. The second struck the spot where the target has been, it already having faded from sight.
Not fast enough, Virgil. He heard the voice, his voice, in his mind.
Whoever is killing the other Shades is going to take you down like a lame dog.

He'd been at it for hours now, a combination of fatigue and frustration had hold of him. This new threat had him worried. Whomever this was had skill and experience that clearly surpassed his own. He felt this new fear trying to take root. His was no magical fear like he had faced with the dragon, no this was a fear that he hadn't felt since early his early adolescence. The fear of losing.
"No," he whispered to himself, attempting to dismiss the tangible fear around him. "No!"

A long moment later came a knock from his door that echoed into the stone hall.
A sudden realization that it must be late. He and Obcaeco were heading out tonight to see if they could shake loose any information of this  'Shade Killer' from the criminal element of Waterdeep.
He strode to the door as he smoothed down his sleeves and donned his coat and hat before using his magics to clean away the sweat and turn the fabrics to the blacks and greys of his alter ego. He paused at the door, took a steadying breath and allowed the mask of arrogance to settle back upon his face before swinging it open.
She stood there before him, in the outfit he had secretly fashioned for her. A vision of beauty and strength.
She smiled her tiny smile. The smile was his to see for no one else.

"Shall we?"

Tonight

Virgil noticed Obcaeco's strength looked to be returning. Whatever medicine had been provided to her seemed to be working.

There was no denying that something had been developing on an emotional level that put him in a state of unrest. This was something new, something foreign. Beyond a moment, this lingered and grew with a life of its own.

He thought back to the battle with the white dragon. The fear and excitement he had felt in that moment had suddenly frozen at the sight of Obcaeco being struck by the great beasts frigid blast. 

A feeling of loss so profound had struck him that he abandoned his own instincts of self preservation to get to her, to the point where some gift from Neifion manifested and allowed him to jump through planes of existence and appear next to her cold, near lifeless body.

His dexterous hands, always so stable now shook as he had tried to administer the healing fluid to her. The dark liquid splashed upon her lips and provided a false semblance of colour. He had watched as the fluid began its magical work. Her skin began to flush with healthy colour, returning to it's radiant pink hue, moving further from the pale white that the frost blast had inflicted upon her. A deep, gasping breath followed by several ragged coughs burst from her body as she had jolted near upright as Virgil clung on to her, thankful for the life that flooded back into her body.

The trip back to Waterdeep had only nurtured this new force within him now. Although it had been left unsaid between them, he felt a reciprocated bond growing. Lingering touches, he would be caught looking in her direction by her supernatural senses.

Lirra's family had arrived in Waterdeep a few days after their arrival. Virgil had never seen Lirra so vibrant and joyful. She bounced around like a child. Yet still, Obcaeco was not herself, more withdrawn than normal. That battle lust she'd exhibited had not resurfaced, withdrawn to a point that kept Virgil's attention fixed upon her.

Toasts were made, food was eaten and Virgil used all of his charm to make the night as palatable as possible. The joy on Lirra's face wasn't lost on him. He did his best to make it a good night for her, even as his mind wandered to things that he could do to help improve Obcaeco's mood.

It wasn't till the late hours of that night that he had a sudden epiphany. He would act upon his idea come morning. 

Obcaeco moved through the motions of the day. Her mind occupied, quite literally by an entity she didn't understand. She could detect with her senses that the others had already left. She heard no heartbeats within her companions rooms. 

Her senses guided her downstairs to the common room of the tavern where she detected Ulfgar seated at a nearby table. The favourable scents of freshly brewed coffee baked bread with cinnamon filled the room. 

"How ye feelin, Lass? Ulfgar asked as he rose from his chair and pulled the adjacent one out for her. 

"Better," she answered quietly, seating herself before delicately pulling apart one of the sweet smelling rolls set out on the table.

"This is Stedd's handiwork," she said after tasting a morsel of the soft bread. Ulfgar chuckled into his mug of spiced mead. 

"Aye it surely is," he replied after wiping a forearm over his mouth. "The boys got a talent!" He reached over and grabbed one of the rolls for himself and ate it in a much less delicate fashion than young monk had demonstrated. 

"Where are the others?" She askes between bites. Ulfgar looked around and motioned towards the door. "Young Lirra an' her kin are making preparations for their big fight." He began. "Virgil I had not seen leave, maybe he's still asleep?" 

"He's not." She added and Ulfgar knew better than to disagree. Her supernatural attunement to sound could be trusted. 

"If ye need me, Lass I'll be tendin to some work at the temple down the road." Ulfgsir said as he rose and wiped his mouth again with his forearm. She detected the faint rustle of fine fabric scented with  various oils as Ulfgar picked up his vestments and placed them over his clothes. 

His large calloused hand gently touched her shoulder as he passed. She acknowledged his gesture with a faint smile in his direction as he made his way out. 

She sat alone now at a table made to seat six. Just her and the voice within her head remained.

It wasn't until Midday that Virgil bustled through the door of the inn. The place now quite busy with the lunch time crowd. Despite the number of people in the room, Obcaeco detected his presence and she turned her head to his direction and he pointed upstairs, towards their rooms.

She stood and walked up the stairs, into his room, leaving the door open for him as he entered a moment later.
His heart beat faster, he was excited about something, she knew this just through his movements.

"I have the greatest idea for some fun!" He stated, unclasping the buckle on his bag of holding before producing a large flat box, placing it on the bed before Obcaeco.
"I got you a present!" He said, the excitement not leaving his voice.
She moved to the bed and opened the box.  Scents of lavender and jasmine greeted her as her hands moved the soft tissue paper to the side with a faint rustle. Her hands moved to the item below. Soft velvet and linen, embroidered with an all too familiar symbol of Tyr upon a stiffened collar.
A tunic, breeches sash and an extended cowl to cover her strange, beautiful eyes.

Another box was produced, this one Virgil opened himself and she smelled the soft leather within. Flat soled boots that extended to just below the knee. 

"What is this, Virgil?" She asked smiling.
"Well," he began, "I need to do some snooping around for some Neifion business and I want you to come with me, But you need to be -" He paused, "less identifiable."
A smirk crossed her lips and Virgil didn't know if he was in trouble or not.
"You bought me a disguise?" She asked with a derisive tone that told Virgil he may have assumed too much.
He paused. "Well, yes! Technically." He said, trying to recover. "I remembered all of your measurements from Baldur's Gate. "It is in the style you like, darker tones, I swear it's beautiful!
She couldn't keep her face straight any more and for the first time in weeks, she laughed. It was honest, mirthful and it healed her in unseen ways.

Virgil raised his eyebrows in complete surprise at this, before joining in at the spectacle of actually being duped by her ruse. It felt like a long time since he'd been on the receiving end of any kind of mind game. He basked in her laughter, feeling relief wash over him.

She laid the clothes out upon the bed taking note of its textures and lines. It was indeed beautiful.
"Turn your back, please Virgil." She said and it took a moment for him to realise why as she began to disrobe, Virgil's eyes shot downward and away respectfully as she trusted him to do.

The fabric slid over her slender athletic form, and it did indeed feel light and flexible. the leggings, tight but supple woven of a material she hadn't felt upon her skin before. She bound her chest with a length of material provided, supporting her female form. Black and silken cloth that she wound down her right arm and fastened it at the wrist. The tunic was next fastened together with similar silken ties, it was embroidered above the breast with the symbol of Tyr, she ran her hands over the symbol. It's familiarity of it enamouring her further to this these new garments. She felt the longer left sleeves lining as it slid along her arm, small pockets and a sheathe? small enough to hold a dart or small knife.
Oh yes, Virgil did indeed oversee the design of this.

Finally, the soft boots, slipped onto her delicate feet. She could feel the embossed patterns upon them, little swirling designs that wove in and out of one another.
They felt like a second skin to her feet, contouring to her soles and calves, allowing  full freedom of movement.

Lastly, a dark shawl placed over her head and rested across her shoulders, its cowl, longer than necessary, she appreciated that he knew her enough to know this was her desired style.

"It looks amazing, Obcaeco." Virgil said, pride and admiration in his voice. "How does it feel?"
She spun, a leg coming up in a whirling kick, before dropping down into a cat like stance, her hands a flurry of movement.
"This is lovely, Virgil," She said, a wry smirk at the side of her mouth. "Tonight then?"
"Tonight."

Before We Go.

The portal stood before them. A circular glyph of arcane scrawling.

Virgil halted a few feet before walking into the teleportation ring, Turning turning to face his companions.

"Guys, wait a moment," he said, holding up a hand. "I've got no idea what is beyond that portal, but I just wanted to say that traveling with you all has made me feel like we can achieve the impossible."
The faces look back on him all read differently.
Ulfgar's proud knowing face. The voice of reason, the rock of conscience.
Stedd wore his grim demeanour, eyes darting here and there watching for any slight movement or imminent danger. Virgil could see the weight of decision and consequence upon his face. He knew Stedd was fighting a guilt from a decision that had nearly cost the lives of his friends.
Lirra, leaned against her great spear, calm and relaxed. The confidence she showed, it empowered them. Virgil knew this to be fact.
Virgil looked to Obcaeco. The girl blinded literally by her faith and lineage. Half angel, half human. The one who sees much, and sees no more. 
She smiled when Virgil's gaze fell upon her. It was a kind, warm smile. A smile of one who is fighting a battle within, yet shows none of it to those around them.

"Ulfgar," Virgil said breaking from his inner thoughts. "How about a prayer before we leave?

Virgil took a knee in front of the armoured dwarf.
Stedd was first to kneel with Virgil, then Obcaeco, and Lirra as Ulfgar looked upon those before him for the briefest moment before he began. 

"Family comes to us in times of need," his words and tone fatherly and warm. "It is not the family of lineage, but the family that is forged in times of strife and struggle." Ulfgar closed his eyes, a hand hovering above the heads of these brave folk before him. 

"Mother Truesilver, I call to you now. 

To look upon us in this time of strife.

Let this family be forever watched over. 

Let their faith in each other strengthen them. 

Let their courage be bolstered in times of fear.

Let no force break their bonds to one another."

There was a pause. Only the dripping of the water in the adjacent caverns could be heard. 

"Ye can stand up now," Ulfgar chuckled. "We got work to do."

 

Together they rose, as Virgil took a deep, steadying breath.

"Alright," He said, drawing Thorn giving it a customary look over. The cool green crystal housed within the core of the device pulsed slowly at his touch, reassuring him of it's readiness.

"Let's get this done."

All In

Books, Lots of Books.

Virgil took a moment to reflect on the feat he had achieved. He currently stood in an ornate library, within a hidden castle, surrounded by an enemy force that he now controlled.

He couldn't help but grin at this.
With but a few augmented words he had turned ally against ally and overthrown a major enemy stronghold.

The powers that Neifion had given him felt godlike and for the first time he could remember, he felt like he was doing good. Something that his parents would be proud of.

Deception, gambling and exploitation were all things he used for personal gain. Never for a moment did he think his talents could be used in this way.

He had killed. Again. As the grin evaporated from his face, he recounted the fight against the commander of this castle, the cold calculating elf and his cultist guards. He had almost discounted it considering the whirl of events that followed.
He'd also sent his enemies into a trap, a trap in the form of dozens of lizard folk spears and teeth, to be torn apart in an ambush.
Virgil put the books down he was stacking onto a nearby pile and took out his own journal and lay it atop a chest high column of invaluable volumes of what appeared to contain information about the stars. "Henry's gonna have kittens when he sees these." He mused before focusing back to the blank page of the magical tome.

Castle Neyartar is under our control.
Coerced local lizard folk tribe to turn against current cultist regime and assist in coup.
Lizard folk still believe that we are cultists. We have taken no prisoners to ensure our cover remains in tact. Using this to our advantage.
Cultist presence in castle has been removed. Dispatched majority of Cultist forces through deception, ambush and confusion.

He lowered his pen, allowing the words to seep into his magical journal, before adding.

Was this the correct course of action?

This last question wasn't an easy one to write.
He understood Neifion was concerned with bringing balance, restoring the natural order of things but had he achieved this here?

He thought back further to the chain of events to date. He turned his memory to what these cultists were capable of in Greenest. People slaughtered on the streets. Families torn apart. He'd seen dozens die that night. He'd witnessed the power they would bring to bare against defenceless folk.

Grim faced and resolute, Virgil closed the journal and returned it to his satchel before a reply even arrived.

Yes, he was doing the right thing.
The balance will be restored.

Sea Tower Aftermath.

"Are ye alright, Lad?" came the gruff but calm voice from behind Virgil as he picked himself up off the turrets cold floor. He ached from a dozen or more blows, cuts and abrasions.
"Ulfgar," he said weakly, taking one step towards the armoured dwarf before the world begun to spin again.
"Woah, easy there, lad." Ulfgar braced Virgil with a strong gauntleted hand. "May the light of Berroner Truesilver return ye strength."

Virgil felt a hot flash race up his arm and settle in his chest. With each breath the warmth spread to all his limbs as his vision and balance righted.
"The battle is won," He surmised, "No shortages of casualties on either side though." The two of them looked over the turret's walls to the courtyard where strewn about lay the dead and dying on both side. "I'll be down there healing what I can," Ulfgar said. The dwarf lingered a moment longer, assessing Virgil's condition with a trained eye before stomping off towards the wounded.
Virgil gazed at the scene below. The horror of battle splayed before him like a grotesque mural. A telltale glow came from the satchel he wore at his side, drawing his attention. The tome's pages lit up the area under his long coat as he withdrew it and held the leather bound book on both hands. As expected the book flipped open, stopping on an empty page that begun to fill with that distinct letters with long thin bodies and sharp short serifs. 

These were the words of Neifion.

'The fey creatures, born of fear and blood descend upon you. You must cleanse the blood upon the soil. Do this quickly lest your allies be overrun.'
Virgil knew better than to argue with the words. He recalled those wicked yellow creatures burst from the fleeing men, Saw what they did to the others that they had fought against.
He moved to the edge of the tower, leveling Thorn at the ground and loosed an emerald bolt with a resounding crack! Soldiers looked up at him with surprise, weapons at the ready.
"Move the bodies, wounded or otherwise to the entrance!" He shouted down to the courtyard. Over his shoulder he beckoned to the group of veterans he had just fought alongside, "You lot, Come with me, we need to burn the battlefield now!"
The bloodied veterans didn't even hesitate as Virgil sped towards the stairs, passing Lirra on the way down.
"Spread the boxes of alcohol across the blood, as much as you can, and quick!" he ordered, stopping to speak with Lirra. When they were alone he dismissed his illusory mask, smiling in her direction.

"You're alive." She stated flatly, looking at the sword in his hand. Virgil's smile shifted  awkwardly.
"I am, thanks to your training." He offered politely. She looked him up and down briefly.
"You look terrible. You need more training." She stated flatly "put that away before you stab yourself." She brushed past him, continuing her ascent to the top of the tower. He blinked a few times, letting that sink in before he continued down to the courtyard. 

The soldiers had gotten to work, rounding up other survivors as they smashed open crates and spread the liquid around liberally.

Virgil thought he spotted a patch of red mushroom caps sprouting from the blood on the field. Yes, before his eyes he watched as the patch begun to grow.  He grabbed a bottle from a nearby crate biting down on the the cork and giving the bottle  of a very old and very expensive looking brandy a twist. With an audible 'pop' he spat the cork and took a swig of the strong liquid before hurling it at the patch, focusing his fey given talents upon its contents before igniting it with a click of his fingers.

The flames roared up, shrivelling the red capped fungus. 

The blue flames suddenly turned green and roared anew as Virgil took control of them, willing them across to the other spilled grog. 

It caught easily and in moments the battlefield was ablaze with a pyre of green flame. 

The soldiers continued to hurl the bottles into the magical inferno and cheered at the spectacle of the masked man with the black eyes consecrating the ground. 

'Time for a bit of showmanship.' Virgil thought as he begun to swirl his hands, gathering the fire into one area, it's magical flames casting an emerald hue across the area. Brighter and brighter the bonfire became. 

The fire then took the form of a giant bat stretching it's wings before it sped into the air a short distance before bursting in a bright green flash.

As eyes adjusted, they looked back upon the battle field to see a single large distinctive letter aflame in the centre of the field. An extravagant 'N' with a long thin body and sharp, short sarefs.  It remained aflame for a few moments before flickering away. Just enough for all at the tower to see. 

 It was all the power he could muster, nut he knew it would be enough. All the best stories start in spectacle and rumor. From one ear to another they travel before they take on a life of their own. He would help it grow. Nurture and care for it. 

The masked man with the black eyes walked from the courtyard, long coat billowing behind him and all traces of battle gone from his attire. It was as if he had never been touched. He tipped his hat as he passed the soldiers, their torch flames turning green as he walked by. 

Under the guise he was shaken and shocked. He had survived a major battle where others had not. 

He showed none of this now for he had a reputation to build after all. 

And presentation was key. 

Suit Up

Virgil's reality continued to be shaken around him with this latest revelation that these terrible acts were happening within Baldurs Gate's walls. Forget Greenest and the Dragon, and the little scale covered beasts that had made his life less than fun for a few weeks.

These things were happening on his own doorstep and from the look of it, by his own people. The criminal element in Baldurs Gate had always been a constant, but none had considered blowing up one of the biggest defensible bastions the city had going for it.

Henry and the group had been informed and his reaction was one of hastened efficiency as messages were written and rolled into tubes of glass. Virgil wondered what kind of magic must have been on those tubes as the contents faded to nothing.

Mikarro and Ulfgar seemed to take the news in their stride, as if this was expected of this place. They conversed to themselves over a plan of the tower that Horus unfurled over a small table. Two stacks of books at each end preventing it from curling back up on itself.

Stedd did his usual thing and went wide eyed out of Harry's office, his loud footfalls stomping up the stairs could be heard.

Obcaeco just sat still, as if assimilating the information she'd just heard hadn't swayed her here nor there.

Virgil felt his mind cloud over. His thoughts jumbled and he couldn't rationalise what action was about to take place. 

He left Henry's room and motioned for the barkeep to grab a bottle and two glasses and he moved up the stairs. 

From Stedd's room the sounds of hurried packing could be easily heard. From the open door Virgil watched Stedd cramming everything into the bag of holding that lay open on his bed.

"Don't you think you're-" Stedd cut Virgil off with his sudden turn and drawing of his dagger.

Stedd took a step back suddenly, his dagger held only by his thumb as he outstretched the fingers on both hands and raised them slightly, eyes darting from Virgil's down to Thorn that was drawn and pointed at Stedd.

"You gonna put that away?" Stedd asked, as he sheathed his own blade. Virgil complied, placing Thorn back into its holster, coughing to clear the awkward silence.

"Drinks?" Virgil asked, glasses and bottle clinking as he raised them as he took half a step in.
Stedd's hand shot up, "Wait!" He said with hushed urgency. "Don't step there," He pointed directly in front of Virgil's raised boot. "Or there, or, you know what? Let's drink in your room."

Virgil nodded, smiling slightly and exited, opening the door across the hall and poured the fragrant red wine into the cups before setting down the bottle and handing a glass out to Stedd who followed him in a moment later.

"You gonna run?" Virgil asked. Stedd's hands slightly shook as he took the glass and gulped a mouthful.

"I was gonna go get Dad and Keri ready to move as soon as possible." He said, calming down a touch as the alcohol did its work.

"You're not gonna do the same?" Stedd asked, "I mean, go get your folks and make them safe?"
Virgil took a sip, considering his response for a moment.

"I'm gonna help fight," He said looking elsewhere, before his black eyes locked onto Stedds. "And I want you to fight with me."

Stedd' started to shake his head involuntarily before  Virgil had finished his request, as he'd seen him do several times before when the idea of a prepared fight had been raised.

"I get your not comfortable with yourself in fights, you dress tough to try to dissuade people from fighting you. But I need you to stop looking scary and start actually being fucking scary!"
Stedd still didn't seem convinced, his eyes having trouble meeting Virgil's.
"I want that fucking guy who was ready to gut someone just to get information about his loved ones captives. I wan't that guy to watch my back in whatever is about to happen next."

Virgil went over to where his leather armour sat on a chair and slid it over his head, fastening it down the sides, is face grimacing slightly at the weight and restriction of it. He strapped his long knife to his left thigh. Sheathed a dagger on his belt and rechecked the fastenings on the embossed holster that held Thorn.
He flung his fine long coat over his shoulders, it billowing out behind him as it settled as he turned around, Stedd held out the final part of his transformation, The black, wide-brimmed hat. 

Virgil took it and placed it on, adjusting it slightly at the front before calling upon his innate magics to alter his appearance. All of his clothing, his armour and boots, turned into a mat black, the lining of his jacket a deep purple and finally, a black mask with etchings of silver materialised over his lower face, completely masking his identity.

Stedd smiled. "Either you're going to a really fancy masquerade ball, or a whole bunch of people are about to be killed by the best dressed guy in town." Stedd quipped.

 "Excellent," Virgil stated as he moved to the window and flung it open before climbing out onto the ledge. "That's what I was going for. Tell the others I'll be waiting at the outskirts of the Fort. Go see what they want us to do."

Without waiting for a response, Virgil was gone from sight. Stedd rushed over to his window to see him running along the side of the wall up to the buildings roof. He scoffed loudly "Gods dammit, Virgil." He said in a hushed whisper to the night sky, still shaking his head before turning around and almost falling out the window as Obcaeco stood only two feet from him. "Gods Dammit! Obcaeco!" He shouted, visibly shaken. 

"I just noticed Virgil outside and thought I'd come up and see what was happening."

"Come on," Stedd replied with a huff, turning Obcaeco around and leading her back out the room. "Time to tell the others that Virgil's off to kill himself."

Questions and Reflections. - Hoard of The Dragon Queen. Chapter 2.

Just shut up and listen.
Don't write back or interrupt. I need to get this out of my system.

What in the nine hells have you gotten me into?
Greenest, these people, this 'Cult of The Dragon.'

You say that I have skills that are needed for the task. But if the task is to be surrounded by dragons of all shapes and sizes, then that's a shitty task.

I'm not stupid or narrow minded. Cards are all about knowing what's ahead of you. Prediction, awareness, opportunity. And, I know that this force that is pillaging these small towns wont stop here. This is just the precursor to something big. But I think you've got the wrong guy!

Haven't you?

Fuck! You know what? Three days ago I wouldn't have given a care about this blasted little backwater town or its bloody people, but you put me in the thick of it. Even this group of folks that I've been lugged in with were better equipped to deal with this mess.

A walking lizard that looks like the bloody creatures I've been shooting at for two days. Yet devoted to bringing these bastards to a peaceful end.
Another bloke from Baldur's. The "Locksmith" Interesting bloke though. We had a few moments that first night it all went to shite.
A blind(?) holy woman that can do the most incredible things!
A dwarf priest. Bristling with armour and the ability to heal the most ghastly wounds.

And Lirra. 
Now this woman was able to make me question more of my sense of self in one night than all the nights I've hustled cards and played dubious hands over the last decade.

In two days, I have seen horrors that I'd never thought I'd have to. I've been granted these "gifts" from you.
I've walked through an entire camp of things that wanted me dead. I've faced a dragon attack, and aided this town of Greenest with information pertinent to the discovery and perhaps prevention of this cults next move.
I've killed monsters. I have killed. 

Is my role in all of this over now? Or has it only just begun?

And who is Neifion? 
Are you Neifion? 
Am I?

I'm closing this book now for a bit. I need to rest and I can smell Stedd's baking down the bloody hall.