#moczo

On the way there, we run into an issue. An issue with voice acting.  Could this be a major new subplot? Incredible new content?  Fully re-vamped gameplay experiences?!  

(Meet Dorn)

Oh it's just Dorn

I actually love this cutscene; not because it's good, no, Lord, not because it's good. I love it because it's so surreal and weird.  The voice acting (Especially Senjak over there, was he voiced by a hobo they found behind the studio one day?) is just silly, and everyone says the exact same lines no matter what you say in return.  It's like three minutes of playing a dream.  And not a good dream.

This might be a good time to mention my mind doesn't work well, if you hadn't spotted it.  

Anyway, we already voted against Dorn so I tell him to take a hike and loot some minor magic items from the remains. Minsc also gained a level, and as he's our melee man, he'll need all the HP he can get.  

Okay honey I get that you like me, but you need to stop hitting on me when we're knee-deep in corpses.  

Though I do love that you call yourself 'a cat in heat' because you discovered you enjoy speaking to a man.  Bran here might be a little bit less worldly than she acts.

... And she also feels the best way to make us forget our sorrow over Gorion dying is to tell us about her own, happy, totally alive family full of loving parents and siblings.  

Let's just go to the goddamn mines.  

After what seems like a thousand endless winters, but was really only about five updates, we have arrived at the end point of the first chapter of the game: Nashkel Iron Mines. This is where the biggest issue of the iron crisis gripping the coast is found, and where we need to start our investigation into how it all may be linked to us.  

... If it is. It occurs me that we are mainly here because four different party members asked us to solve it, and we don't actually have any of them anymore.  So.... ummmmm....

Let's go do a sidequest first!  

Don't worry, I'm not dodging the main story. This one takes like five seconds. South of the main entrance of the mines, we run into this dude.

This is Prism, a famous artist from the region, who has recently gotten a bounty put on his head for stealing some emeralds.  He apparently needed them to complete a sculpture that he was a little too crazy about; he has basically destroyed his life and career just for the right to sculpt a face into the rocks near some mine.  

Oh, and it was a sculpture of a woman he saw once and didn't talk to.  Also he's been taking a bunch of magic drugs to work faster.  

At this point, most normal people would just be backing away slowly until they were far enough away to outright turn and run. But we're the good guys, and he's... well, art is good, right? So we agree to keep him safe until he finishes. We can turn him in to the authorities afterward.  I mean, what are the odds of this 'Greywolf' character he's so scared of turning up right n-

Shit.

So the bounty hunter is here, of course, literally five seconds behind us, and he's a complete tool. For some reason our suggestion that he could wait five minutes for Prism to finish his ugly masterpiece before arresting him is worthy of our horrible deaths, and he starts a fight right then.  He's fairly tough; he's a decently leveled fighter, and our melee is still pretty weak...

But our magic is shaping up very nicely. Branwen lands a Hold Person spell as her first move of the fight, completely paralyzing him and stopping him from doing anything as we beat him to death over the course of several long, excruciating seconds, during which he is fully aware.  

This game is actually pretty grim if you think about these things!

On the plus side, his sword is awesome. It's magical, Zuko can use it reasonably well, and it does bonus ice damage to anything it hits!  So hey, we won out in the end, and good old Prism gets to finish his masterwork and...

... and.... and... die?  

Um... that is to say... he... erm... apparently was working so very, very hard on this sculpture he died of exhaustion.  Well, that’s just grand.

He asked us not to steal the 'shine from the statue's eyes' so you would assume the emeralds he stole were in them. They weren't, they're on his random corpse.  Yoink!  

Okay, into the mines for real.  We run into the pit at the north end of the screen, map, and find the entrance. The guards won't let us in, of course, until we talk to the foreman, Emerson. Who I'm sure will want us to like, go find his lunch or something to prove we are trustworthy, probably followed by-

Oh.  Hey, go Emerson! I like this guy.  

Once we get into the mines, it's time to start our investigation. What, exactly, is causing all this ruckus?  We're first approached with a clue and a theory:

Tiny demons!  I'm... well, I guess a tiny demon would still be scary?  But I don't think they would just stay down in a mine and focus on fighting the quality of iron in the region.  Still, we should find and talk to this Ruffie character.  Maybe he can offer us some valuable clues as to the real nature of the threat.

Or not.  

The first floor of the mines are largely empty; there's a few containers to look through, but the only thing we find is contaminated iron chunks. The only thing of interest we find is a miner who asks us to take a dagger down to his friend Kylee on the second floor.  Sadly, despite Kylee sounding very much like a girl's name, all miners in these games use the same (male and mostly naked for some reason) model. So I doubt we've stumbled onto a glorious tale of mine-love. 

Unless...

And hey, love is in the air all around as Branwen continues on about her uncertainty in her own path.  

So she's gonna be holding our words to her bosom?  Dudes, she totally digs us!  I mean, she also doubts her path in life and misses her homeland and feels like she may have betrayed her culture by choosing the path that appealed to her, but she digs us while she does it!  

I really do love this mod.  Branwen in the unmodded game was actually so boring the TV Tropes crowd forgot to include her in the character page for like, years.  This romance arc actually gives her a character, and it's actually a pretty likable one!  See why I recommended it be downloaded?

Also Edwin is here.  

The joy of this, of course, is that Edwin is actually about as low-ranked in the Red Wizards of Thay as it is possible to be.  His grand mission was to assassinate a level 1 Invoker, after all, and he couldn't do it on his own.  His 'plotline' across the entire series is almost entirely based around how pathetic he is.  He himself might not notice, but we do, and it's probably part of why he's so popular.  Everyone loves a total, arrogant loser jerk.  

... Wait...

Oh, never mind. Let's just keep going.  The tunnel into the lower mines is to the eastern side of the map.  Heading down, the first thing we see is a screaming miner running toward us. I'm sure that's good!

Being a team of proud heroes and mighty wizards (and Edwin), we of course agree to do battle with the foes pursuing this hapless miner.  Be it demon or dragon or...

... Kobold?  

Yes, after much wondering and fear, the force behind the the iron plague on the ore from Nashkel has turned out to be kobolds.  Like gnolls, kobolds are sort of like a cross between a dog and a person (though in their case there's also some lizard involved) but they're not quite as... imposing as the gnolls were.  Like the difference between a killer hyena-man and a tiny yapping terrier-man.  They are like, the lowest rung of 'random killer monsters that attack people.'  Orcs look down on kobolds.    

They're also not nearly smart enough to manage all this, destroying the ore and tormenting the miners without getting caught.  Someone is pulling their strings.  Time to continue through the mine and find out what.

As we progress, it becomes clear the kobolds are everywhere.  They show up in chokepoints with bows and emerge out of blind corridors, further implying that either they are guided by a master tactician, or the programmers just decided to put them everywhere.  On the plus side, we do find Kylee, shattering forever our dreams of a lovely mine romance.

UNLESS...

Well, regardless of who might own his heart, we give Kylee his dagger back. Upon receiving said dagger, he is very happy to tell us that the real problem is that the mine is infested by kobolds.  

Ya fuckin' think, Kylee? Man, I hope your mine romance sucks.  Still, I guess we should be glad that he actually gave us an answer instead of just gibbering like a maniac and running away, so I should be nice to him.    

And besides, this is actually going rather well for us! Kobolds drop mostly small gems and arrows, so Imoen will not be needing to buy ammo anytime soon and we have a decent bunch of money.  We also find some bottles of a strange material that seems to weaken iron.  We can drink it, if we want, but it's poison (REEEEEALY?!).  At least this confirms the kobolds are the problem, if not the ones in charge.  Who is giving them this poison?

Aiding us further, kobolds also totally suck.  Each one goes down in a single hit without doing any damage to us at all. Guess they weren't ready for our amazing skills!  Or we over-leveled doing sidequests.  

Either or.  

Progressing down another level, further into the tunnels, we find another gaggle of corpses and a small ring on the floor.

It isn't magic or anything, but as you might be able to tell from the name, it also isn't just a random piece of jewelery either. We'll put this to use when we get back to Nashkel.  For now, we proceed through the mines a bit, finding nothing but Kobolds and dead people. We are officially lower than the miners are willing to go, and it's starting to get worrisome.  I mean, kobolds suck. How did they pull all this off?  

Continuing on, we come upon a bridge, walk across it, and Zuko instantly drops dead.  

Hey, kids!  Guess what? The game is introducing us to another new gameplay concept: traps!  Let's try this again, sending our thief in first to finally start doing her most important job.  

These are traps. Almost all are invisible unless scouted out either by a thief's Detect Traps ability or a particular cleric spell; thieves are the best way, however, because the spell only shows you where they are.  A thief can go the extra mile and disarm them.  And as you've just seen, they don't fuck around in this game.  Zuko is level 3 now and those two traps instakilled him from full health down to nothing.  Not all of them are that bad, but some of them are worse.  Particularly if we end up doing the Bonus Dungeon, which is a gigantic trap-filled nightmarish pit of Hell.

I'm voting we don't do it, but I know you people hate me.

Moving on, Zuko gets shot a few times when Kobolds come at us from around a dark corner. I decide to have the team take a rest to get our healing spells back (not like we have a lot to spare, and all).  And the game sends us another fun gameplay mechanic:

Douchebag monsters that won't let you stop and catch your breath!  This one's pretty self-explanatory.  So I'm just gonna make angry noises for awhile as I kill them, then keep trying to rest a little.

It takes four tries. Kobolds.... so many kobolds.  

But hey, we're moving along. We have a full complement of spells again, and we must be getting to the bottom of this mess.  And now that we're used to kobolds, you know, really in the zone on the subject of them, we can definitely handle this crap.  I have absolute faith in our ability to handle any kobold we s-

Spiders.  Really?  Why.  Why would they even be down here. Are they eating the kobolds? You'd think the kobolds would want to stop that, given there's six billion of them.  

No.  No.  We can do this.  I am proud of the team I have built. We are strong and brave (and Edwin).  We can handle this.  

I MEAN SURE THE KOBOLDS HAVE PUT UP A CHOKE POINT IN FRONT OF A RIVER OF LAVA AND THE ONE IN THE BACK IS AN ELITE COMMANDO BOMBING US WITH FIRE ARROWS, BUT I! HAVE!  FAITH!!!

HOW DO THEY EVEN MAKE THOSE?!

As you may have gathered, we weren't actually over-leveled for Nashkel mines: it's just that it's only on the third floor that the real 'dungeon' starts.  And by the standards of the game, it's actually kind of a pansy! (Wait until we get to Cloakwood. Or God forbid, Durlag's Tower.  Seriously, can I just skip that one?)  But if you walk into this shit without understanding the game, it will beat you down like a rented mule.  

Luckily, we're also nearly done. In the next chamber, we come across another of those damn commandos and their damn fire arrows (Hsssssssss) but once we deal with him, we find this strange dome of rock in the middle of a moat.  

Totally not suspicious at all.  

Heading on inside, we find more kobolds, because they apparently breed like lemmings, but we also find something quite a bit more legitimately worrisome.  

Hello, there.  

For those not in the know on the setting, Cyric is the Chaotic Evil god of insanity, lies, and murder (among other things; he loses and gains new portfolios more often than some people change socks).  So not the kind of god a good sort would be praying too.  I think we've found our mastermind.  

Or rather, our middleman.  Who is this Tazok, and why is our new evil friend so afraid of him?  Let's pretend to be from the big boss and see what we can worm out of him.  

Oh, hey, he's letting us take a look through his stuff. Sweet!  I bet we'll find great evidence in h-

... Okay, he lied to us about letting us see the notes, and he called our girlfriend fat.  It's on.  

Meet (for real this time) Mulahey, the real real first boss of the game.  By himself, he's not too bad; just a cleric.  Probably of the same level as Branwen, maybe one or two higher. He's dangerous, but not too much so.  

However...

He brings help.  As soon as the fight starts, he calls up a wave of kobolds and skeletons to swarm you. Thankfully, none of them have missile weapons, so we're able to turtle up behind him and let Branwen and Minsc take the brunt of it.  

The key thing with this fight is to cut down Mulahey as quickly as possible, because his spells are the real problem.  However, to do that, you really need some form of crowd control to keep his jerks off you.  Branwen is able to do a lot of good; as a level 3 cleric, she's high enough level that her Turn Undead skill is enough o make the skeletons run from her in fear.  Edwin pulls his weight as well; first-level spells might seem wimpy, but Sleep can get you out of a lot of jams early on, particularly since kobolds have shitty saving throws.  

HA!  We are ridiculously awesome.

Once you get him down to near-death, Mulahey will attempt to surrender, offering you the information you seek in return for sparing his life.

Unfortunately, nobody calls Zuko's girlfriend fat.  

More seriously, he won't actually surrender. Take him up on his offer and he just sends another wave of skeletons and kobolds at you when you try to open the chest again. The actual letters you need to progress the story and end the first chapter are on his body, not in the box. Immediately upon picking them up, we get:

So there we go!  First major quest in the game done, and the next step in the main questline is open.  We have saved the mines of Nashkel, opening a much-needed source of new ore to the region, and we have letters offering us evidence of the greater conspiracy in our possession.  Also, we made some very nice money and have Mulahey's personal junk to identify. Mmmmmmmmmmmmm, magic.  

Next time: selling junk, turning in quests, morose elf mages, and 20% more assassins!

This may or may not be a good thing, depending on your feelings about the ending to Mass Effect 3.

The game was followed by an expansion, Tales of the Sword Coast, which was... pretty okay.  A sequel, Shadows of Amn, followed in 2000 and basically overnight became the new standard for western RPGs; superior to the original in pretty much every way, from characters to story to setting design and gameplay, it is still regarded as one of BioWare's best. In 2001, the sequel/expansion pack Throne of Bhaal finished up the storyline in a mostly tidy way (barring a few issues that would really only be apparent to people who really, really know the setting) and things seemed pretty much awesome.  

And then that was that.  

No, really, this was back before series lasted forever.  The series ended, right there.  Two games, two expansion packs.  A third game was planned, I guess, but it never saw the light of day.  And while it worked out okay and the endings were satisfying and well-received, which is kind of a big deal (Still looking at you, Mass Effect 3) it was a little sad to all of us who had grown to love these games and could cheerfully say there was no amount of Baldur's Gate that was enough.

Then, 2012 happened. 

Marketed as an overhaul of the classic, adding new characters, content, gameplay, and updated graphics, Baldur's Gate Enhanced Edition had some big shoes to fill.  Nostalgia is a powerful force, and the EE had a lot of very nostalgic nerds to face in its quest to revitalize a franchise that had been gone for over a decade.

(Particularly since those nerds had been very cheerfully spending that time making roughly a trillion game mods that upgraded the games in basically all the ways the EE was planning to anyway, so.)

Did they succeed? I dunno, it's Baldur's Gate, I'd love it no matter what they did.  But do you think they succeeded in making a good, but outdated, game into something great enough to buy again?

Well, that depends on me and how well I make you like.  And I'm not persuasive. 

We start at the beginning, which is to say the opening menu.  Here we see one of the first new things added in the Enhanced Edition, The Black Pits mode.  To put it into awesome terms, this is a deadly mode where you create a team of cunning and powerful adventurers and fight a wave of successively more powerful opponents in order to claim your freedom from a dark sorcerer.  

To put it into realistic terms, it's basically just an unending wave of the game's combat system. Which is fun, I guess, but I need a big meaty story or I get bored and wander off to play with shiny things.  So let's just jump right into the main game.  

(There's a tutorial but I'm awesome so we won't need that)

Opening Cinematic (Youtube)

So there's our intro movie. I'd screencap it but it can't be paused, so it's unspeakably annoying to even try that.  In a rather interesting design choice, all of the original cutscenes and their shockingly outdated CGI have been replaced with scenes like that, which have a kind of hand-painted look.  It's up to you if it's an improvement, but I like it.  It has a kind of old-timey fairy tale appeal, like we're reading the story out of a book rather than playing it.  At the very least, it took more effort to make those than it would have to just re-use the same old cutscenes, which makes me feel more confident about this whole thing. Like it's a real labor of love, not just a cash grab preying on my nostalgia. 

And now we get to our character creation screen. This was back before graphics got so stunningly perfect and detailed you could customize your character appearance down to their nose hairs; 90% of what we do here is going to be something that actually affects the game, not just how pretty we are. Race, Class, Alignment, even Gender (especially once we reach the sequel) will have some impact on the story and how it plays out.  I will be taking care of most of it, but the biggest thing, I'm leaving to you, the readers (assuming there actually are any, which I guess there might not be). 

What class we gonna be? 

As you can see, our options are many and varied, and it actually goes into a great more detail than even this screen shows.  Clicking on a class here will reveal something that was not originally in the first game, Kits.  Kits are sort of a different 'flavor' of the class; they will typically have some extra powers or traits that set them apart, in exchange for picking up a few weaknesses or extra restrictions that the main class doesn't have.

A general rundown (and I am summarizing like a demon here but it is still going to be a giant info-dump.  Please don't hate me):

Fighter: The bread and butter front-line fighter, as the name implies. The fighter is not fancy, but s/he can specialize in any kind of weapon and wear even the heaviest armor, making them ideal for standing right up in the front and letting the enemy repeatedly punch them in the face.    The fighter has four kits: -Berserker: Gains the ability to use the 'Rage' ability, which gives them a bonus to attack and defense, while also granting immunity to an impressively wide list of status-altering spells.  In exchange, they cannot become specialized in ranged weapons, and once their Rage wears off they take a few temporary penalties.   -Wizard Slayer:  As the name implies, this kit specializes in taking down spell-casting enemies. Each hit they land makes it more likely the enemy's spells will fizzle out, and they gain a small bonus to magic resistance with each level they gain.  In exchange, they can't wear any magical gear themselves other than weapons and armor; no rings, no amulets, no fancy capes, zip.   -Kensai: A fighter that is heavily focused on offense.  They can't wear any armor, use any ranged weapons, or wear any gauntlets/bracers like a normal fighter; in exchange, they get some mildly game-breaking bonuses to their attack speed, damage, and accuracy as they level up, including a special ability called 'Kai' that briefly causes every attack they land to deal maximum damage.   -Dwarven Defender: Basically the opposite of a Kensai; this fighter loses out on a lot of the potential weapon skills and specializations, but in exchange gets some enormous boosts to defense against physical damage, as well as access to the 'Defensive Stance' ability, which causes them to move slower in exchange for yet another boost to defense.  Oh, and they have to be a Dwarf, as the name implies.  

Ranger: If the fighter was an eco-nut.  Rangers are warriors, but they give up the fighter's weapon skill in exchange for a selection of special abilities including some limited stealth skills, a selection of minor spells once they reach higher levels, and the ability to choose a 'Racial Enemy' at character creation: one specific type of creature they will get a combat bonus against for the rest of the game.  Also, Rangers come automatically skilled in dual-weapon fighting, while other classes have to actively choose to spend points getting good at it.  Oh, and they can hypnotize animals for some reason. There are three ranger kits: -Archer: A ranger who focuses on missile weapons.  They get several bonuses with bows/crossbows, including skill equal to a fighter, bonus damage, and the ability to use the 'Called Shot' ability, which makes their arrows have a special effect for the next 10 seconds, which improves with level up.  In exchange, they are less skilled with melee weapons than a normal Ranger, and cannot wear any metal armor. -Stalker:  Basically a woodland spy or something; they get a bonus to their natural stealth skill, have the ability to Backstab (when they hit an enemy from behind in while in stealth, they get a significant damage bonus), and their selection of spells as they level up includes some useful tricks normal rangers don't get.  In exchange, their armor is restricted to only leather or studded leather. -Beast Master:  Even  more of an eco-nut than the normal Ranger, this guy gets a selection of powers dedicated to animals.  He can summon a tiny dragon to be his friend (and give him a few extra hit points) and gains the power to summon increasingly powerful animal buddies to help out as he levels up.  In exchange: he not only can't wear metal armor, he can't even use metal weapons.  There's enough clubs and staves and such it's workable, but seriously.  A bit much.

Paladin: If a fighter was a goody-two-shoes.  Paladins, like rangers, are basically a fighter that gives up some weapon skills in exchange for a few extra powers, most typically those related to the smiting of evil.  They have a few minor spells, a once-per-day healing ability called Lay On Hands (jokes about where the hands are being laid, please go to the end of the line), get a bonus to their saving throws (how likely a character is to partially or completely shrug off hostile spells/effects), and get a limited ability to drive off the undead.  In exchange, they have some very strict requirements, including being limited to only the Lawful Good alignment and needing a higher Charisma score than anyone else. -Cavalier:  The 'knight in shining armor' paladin. Even more than the normal one, I mean.  In exchange for not being able to use any missile weapons, these paladins get a bonus to damage against dragons and demons, and a resistance to their powers (being immune to fear, getting a bonus to fire and acid resistance, etc.).   -Inquisitor: The paladin version of the Wizard Slayer, who frankly does a way better job at it.  They lose the normal paladin's spells and healing abilities, but in exchange get the power to dispel magic several times a day with the effective power of someone twice their level, and have access to True Sight (instantly removes all illusion magic from all enemies).  Nice.   -Undead Hunter:  Pretty much what the name implies!  They get a very simple bonus: extra damage against the undead, and immunity to some undead powers (including the very annoying level drain debuff).  And the only downside is that they cannot use the Lay On Hands healing ability, which isn't that great anyway. -Blackguard:  One of the new kits created for the Enhanced Edition, the blackguard is really more of an anti-paladin.  They must be an Evil alignment and have none of the paladin's normal powers, but in exchange get some very nice immunities (once again, level drain!), can drain health from enemies once a day, can coat their weapons in poison, and can project an aura that debuffs enemies.    

Cleric:  The healing class of the game, better at it than any other.  Clerics are a spell-casting class that focuses on spells that buff and heal the party, and you're not gonna get very far without at least one.  They lack the offensive power of other classes, at least at first, but their ability to wear heavy armor and enhance themselves with buff spells mean a cleric can stand on the front lines just fine. Also, like the paladin they can drive away or even destroy undead enemies, getting better at it as they level up.  Even better, cleric kits get only good points, no penalties, so there's really no reason not to be one.     -Priest of Talos:  A cleric who worships Talos, the evil-aligned god of storms and destruction. Must be of an evil alignment, but gains the fairly useless Lightning Bolt spell, and the much nicer Storm Shield (temporary protection lightning, fire, cold, and arrows).   -Priest of Helm: A neutral cleric of the god of watchers and protectors.  Can cast True Sight to dispel all illusions, and the Seeking Sword ability (creates a temporary magical sword that gives a significant bonus to attack speed and accuracy, but prevents the cleric from using other magic until it wears off).   -Priest of Lathander: Good-aligned cleric of the god of sunlight and renewal.  Naturally learns the power to paralyze weak undead, and the Boon of Lathander ability (gives a bonus to attack speed, damage, and accuracy, and makes the target immune to Level Drain).  

Druid: Even more of a hippie than the Ranger, the druid is basically a cross between a cleric and a member of Earth First.  They get a list of spells pretty similar to the cleric, though not as varied and with more offensive options, but also have a few unique abilities including the power to shapeshift into animals and innate resistances to poison and the elements as they get stronger. In return, they can't do much with weapons, and once again: no metal armor for the hippies.   -Totemic Druid:  Almost no different from the standard druid, except rather than turning into animals, this one summons them up.  As they grow in level, they can summon an increasingly powerful 'spirit animal' to fight their enemies for them, in exchange for not being able to Shapeshift at all.  Frankly, the shapeshifting isn't that great so they kinda get the better end of the deal. -Shapeshifter:  Despite the name, this druid actually has less shapeshifting options than normal!  Indeed, they only have one form: a motherfucking werewolf!  Damn that sounds awesome, right?  … Well, it's disappointing, honestly.  Particularly since the penalty is that they can't wear any armor. At all.  Whoo.   -Avenger: A sort of cross between the druid and the mage.  Weaker defensively than a normal druid (even less armor allowed, and a penalty to both Strength and Constitution) but able to cast several additional spells that the normal druid cannot, including some nasty ones like Chaos and Chain Lightning once they get to higher levels.  

Mage: You all know this one.  The bearded dude with the funny robes who waggles his fingers and does the magic.  Harry Potter... you know, if he were old and mean.  Mages start out mostly useless, but develop over time into some insanely broken stuff as they find scrolls of magic to learn from and cast.  For the majority of the games, mages will be our artillery: needing to stay in the back where they won't be poked and die with their sissy little hitpoints, but able to wreak some damn havoc from there.  By the end of the second game, they have the potential to be nigh-invulnerable. -Specialist Mage:  There are 8 kinds of specialist mage, and they are all basically the same.  In exchange for giving up one particular type of magic, they gain the ability to cast more spells every day. Generally a good trade, since some of the magic schools aren't all that impressive; you just need to know enough about them to know which ones are worth losing. -Wild Mage:  Like a normal mage, only sometimes he/she explodes your entire party at random.  Like a specialist, the Wild Mage gets extra spells to cast daily. But for them, the penalty is the 5% chance of a 'Wild Surge' in which case their spell will fail and cause a random effect (chosen from a list of something like 100 different possibilities).  Some are very good, some are very bad, and some are just plain silly.  There are ways to lessen the risk, but no way to totally remove it, so...feel like a gamble?

Thief: The sneaky douchebag that all adventuring parties need.  Thieves are the only class that can pick locks and disarm traps, and also have the highest potential Stealth ability in the game, all of which combines to make them very good choices for scouting ahead of the party.  They aren't so hot at straight-up combat, having very limited weapon skill and being confined to light armor, but they have a lot of sneaky tricks (setting traps, back-stabbing) to make up for that.   -Assassin:  A thief who specializes in murder.  They get a small bonus to accuracy and damage, and their back-stab ability continues to level up long after a normal thief has stopped.  Even better, like Blackguards from above, they can poison their weapons to inflict extra damage and screw over those squishy spellcasters hiding in the back row.  On the downside, though, their thief skills develop slower, so they aren't quite as good at the whole lock-picking and trap-removing thing.   -Bounty Hunter:  A thief who specializes in traps. They get a permanent bonus to setting them, and can learn to set specialized ones as they level up, going from ones that cause more damage all the way to ones that temporarily send the enemy to another dimension. Somehow.  Like the assassin, however, they pay for this in fewer general thief points to spread around.   -Swashbuckler: A sort of fighter-thief hybrid; this thief get innate bonuses to armor, accuracy, and damage, and can specialize in weapons to a higher level than the other thief kits, making them more useful on the front lines.  The penalty is actually pretty minor as well; no back-stabbing ability, which means they only suffer if you were the sort of person who really loves starting a fight off with a sneak attack.   -Shadowdancer:  The second of the new kits added for the Enhanced Edition.  The Shadowdancer is big on stealth, getting a permanent bonus to it and having the unique ability to enter 'stealth mode' even when an enemy is looking right at them, which other thieves can't do.  Further, they get a special ability called 'Shadow Step', which lets them freeze the battlefield for seven seconds, letting them get out of a tight spot and hide.  They have a few extra negatives to balance it out; like the assassin and bounty hunter, their thief skills level up more slowly. In addition, they cannot backstab as well as a normal thief, and can't set traps, only disarm them. Still, kinda neat!

Bard: … I'mma be super honest, I have no respect for bards.  I know that in practice they can be quite good; they are sort of the 'master of none' class, having the ability to cast some spells like a mage, sing songs to buff the party a bit, and the ability to pick pockets like a thief. The strength is in the versatility and their ability to step up and fit into almost any party. But they're just so lame. I mean, come on, magic singing?  Picture that.  Picture a dude in the background behind Conan the Barbarian, singing while he chops up snake men. Does that make sense, really?  Still, useful enough if built right.  Plus they have the fairly useful 'Lore' ability, which gives them a decent chance to be able to tell what a magic item is just by looking at, while other classes have to get it identified with magic or pay at a shop (Well, technically all classes have some Lore, but bards are the only ones that ever get really good at it). -Blade: A bard with a little more kick to them; they can master two-weapon fighting, giving them a little extra power offensively, and have the extra abilities Offensive Spin and Defensive Spin, which give them temporary bonuses to... offense and defense.  But really good bonuses.  In exchange, they get some penalties against their ability to pick pockets and their lore...only picking pockets isn't all that useful, and their Lore will still be higher than anything in the game that isn't a bard.  Acceptable. -Jester:  One of the rare kits with no penalties at all, the Jester's only difference from a normal bard is that their song, rather than buffing the party, de-buffs the enemy.  The effects are pretty good and get better with level, but unfortunately are limited by the enemy's ability to resist the effects getting better as enemies get stronger and meaner.  Still, no real downsides to them, so. -Skald:  Less of a goofy dude with a harp and more a Viking hoisting some mead and singing about Odin.  The Skald gets some minor bonuses to accuracy and damage, but more importantly their song does the same thing for the party. While a normal bard's song only protects from Fear, the Skald's does that and makes everyone else hit harder and dodge better.  In return, they are absolute rubbish at picking pockets, worse even than the Blade.  Still, not many pockets worth picking, so.

Sorcerer: Similar to a mage, but harder to use and potentially even more broken if used right. Rather than learning spells from scrolls, the sorcerer learns spells naturally as they level up, leaving them with much fewer spells learned overall.  The kick, however, is that they can cast those spells way more often than mages can, meaning they can cause a lot more damage before they need to stop and rest.  To play a sorcerer right, you need to have a very good knowledge of the spells in the game and which ones are the most powerful, to make sure you don't mess up and take some useless junk. But if you do know your spells, you can turn this thing into a death machine. -Dragon Disciple:  Another new kit specifically for the EE.  The dragon disciple is a sorcerer who has some (SURPRISE) dragon blood in their heritage and gains some very good unique powers from it, including giant bonuses to armor, fire resistance, and constitution.  Oh, and they can BREATHE FIRE.  Sure, they have a few less spells per day than a normal sorcerer to compensate somewhat, but come on. They can BREATHE FIRE.  

Monk: Hey, you know what our medieval fantasy needs?  KUNG FU.  The monk is, for some weird reason, an east Asian flavored martial arts master who fights with his/her bare hands and the power of enlightenment, and therefore kinda doesn't fit the setting all that well. But what do I know, I'm not the Dungeons and Dragons King (Yet).  In essence, the monk is the melee equivalent of a mage; starting off almost entirely useless, they slowly but surely gain a list of abilities too varied and ridiculous to possibly be listed here, ending the game as tiny, fantasy-style Chuck Norrises.  Only  the ridiculous memes are true.   -Dark Moon Monk:  A monk who worships the evil goddess of night and loss, Shar.  They lose a few of the monk's weird abilities, but in exchange get some additional powers related to illusions and can only be of the Lawful Evil alignment. -Sun Soul Monk:  The Lawful Good counterpart to the Dark Moon monk.  As with their evil flavored version, they lose a few monk abilities and replace them with... a rather shocking amount of fire.  They can set so many things on fire.  With punching. I admit, that's kinda neat.

(For those interested, the full list of monk abilities is here.  Seriously, this infodump was long enough without trying to list all that.)

Barbarian:  Pity the poor Barbarian, for he is the bottom of the list and far away from the Fighter/Ranger/Paladin trio that he really should be making a quartet.  Still, he's the last stop, so let's see... like a paladin and ranger, he's got less overall weapon skill than a real fighter, but makes it up in special abilities.  Most notably, he is limited in armor to Splint Mail or less, preventing him from equipping giant plate mail of invincibility, but makes up for it with a huge number of hit points, an innate resistance to physical damage starting at level 11, and the ability to Rage like a berserker.  So he can still be a very good tank, just one aimed slightly more at soaking up damage rather than avoiding it with armor.  

Damn.  That was a ton o' words.  And it gets worse, mind you: The vast majority of the classes above can be mixed with another class in one way or another. But that's getting to places that are even more confusing.  Let's just stick to single classes for now.

But the voting starts now: what would all of you like to see me flail through the game as?  Send an ask, reply to a post, whatever. I'll leave this post up for a week, and next Saturday, I'll roll up the best Whatever You Pick, and start taking him (it will be a him.  Sorry about that, but I'm a dude and I like being a dude, so dude) through THE ADVENTURE!  

OF!  

A LIFETIME!

(Or, for the first update, killing rats and finding lost books.)

Jaheira whirled on her, her eyes fairly glowing with wrath. "No. No, child, no. You do not criticize me. Not now, not ever, on the subject of wasting time. Not after you started a fight with those wealthy Amnish hunters just because they were rude..."

"Which got me this awesome armor!" Imoen countered, gesturing at the gleaming leather armor, studded in gold and obviously enchanted, that one of the (admittedly very rude) hunters had been wearing. "And I don't see Khalid complaining about his shiny new sword."

"... And stopping to help that child look for his dog, which turned out to be a demon looking for his hellhound..."

"Which, in my defense, seemed really unlikely at the time!" Imoen said defensively.

"...and tried to give away all our gold to, and I quote, 'Zax, the fastest dart-thrower in the west!" Jaheira finished.

"... Okay, yeah, that one was my bad," Imoen admitted. "I got nervous. I mean, what if he had been the fastest dart-thrower in the west?"

"Then he would have thrown darts at us,"Jaheira said coldly. "And we would have killed him because thrown darts are a largely inferior combat weapon and we outnumbered he and his partner five to two, with magical support."

"... That's what happened anyway."

"Yes. I know. Do you see my point?" Jaheira asked.

"... That maybe trying to give him all our money was not a good decision?"

"Aaaand?"

"Aaaaand since I have wasted our time on stupid, pointless things...I shouldn't complain about a druid wanting to help save nature?" Imoen asked. "Because that is what druids do?"

"You see? You can learn," Jaheira said approvingly. She turned back to the distressed (and at this point mildly confused) dryad who had sought their aid, promising the nature spirit their aid once again.

"Sorry, Minsc," Imoen said. "I know that you're worried by these delays...and most of them are my fault..."

The giant warrior smiled and patted her gently on the back, knocking the wind out of her. "Worry not, little Imoen! Fair Dynaheir is strong and clever, and shall almost certainly be fine for a few minutes extra. And besides, what sort of warrior would not aid a lost child seeking his puppy?! Boo's heart cried out for him!"

"He was a demon, you recall," Xan said.

"Boo has a very big heart for such a small creature," Minsc said proudly. "Look upon him, and feel the compassion that flows from every whisker!" he bellowed, holding the hamster up to the elf for inspection as Imoen coughed.

"I would really rather-"

"Look upon him! Feel the wisdom and kindness!" Minsc demanded.

"Squeak," Boo said.

"... ... I was better off dying in the cave, then?" Xan asked of nobody in particular.

Jaheira sighed. "Lady of the forest, I...apologize. Believe me when I say that what they lack in personality, they make up for in effectiveness. Please, lead us to your tree."

The dryad blinked. "No longer entirely certain am I that I wish for their help, lady druid. My oak in danger from ruffians may be, but I fear yon madmen may only make the issue worse..."

Jaheira winced. "Yes, well. That reaction is perfectly natural, but I assure you, unfounded."

"M-mostly."

"Khalid, my love, you are not helping."

Gods above, this had to be the most pathetic adventure of all time.

(*)

Kagain stomped onto the animated skeleton's neck, crushing the vertebrae as he ripped the skull free with his bare hands. "Gods below," he muttered, bone dust billowing around him. "This has gotta be the most pathetic adventure of all time."

"I try to avoid agreeing with the dwarf too often, my dear. Sends the wrong message, upsets my elven kin, all that," Acherai murmured. "But he does have a point, bless his greedy little soul."

"You promised," Sephiria said firmly. "And besides, I am the leader. And the chicken is your friend, not mine!"

"And yet, when Master Thalantyr offered us precisely no reward for an undead skull to maybe restore him," Acherai countered, "I quite plainly stated we should leave the chicken and go to find Tranzig."

"I could hardly leave an innocent man to such a fate."

"He isn't innocent, he did it to himself!"

"Even so, he hardly deserved a lifetime as an animal. Particularly not an edible one," Sephiria said firmly. "The assassin's letters suggested Tranzig will be in Beregost until they met to exchange coin, and finding a skull barely took us two hours."

"Which does seem odd." Garrick kind of poked the shattered skeleton with his toe. "I wonder why so many of them were walking around?"

Acherai rolled his eyes.  "Why, it is as though a famous and dangerous necromancer-cleric lived directly south of here less than a day's travel."

"Well...yes. But he is dead now. Shouldn't his skeletons be dead too?"

The elf shrugged. "Magic does not always behave logically, particularly not when granted by the gods. Cyric in particular is not the sort to bother with sanity, especially when being insane leads to more killer monsters in the world." He paused. "That was actually a very logical question, Garrick. I'm impressed. Keep this up and I may grow to not loathe you."

"An' if ye all shut up. An' help me fix the chicken fer the goodie two shoes. So we can go back ta town and collect the damn bounty we came out here for," Kagain snarled, "then maybe I won't go crazy and smash ye all to death."

"Grumpy," Acherai said with a smirk. "The gold isn't going anywhere. And besides, that new hammer you're waving around it probably worth as much as the share of gold you're getting anyway, so I would say you won this little field trip."

"... Wait. Wait, wait!" Garrick said.  "Why does only he get any magic items?! We all nearly died, so I think we should all get something."

Sephiria blinked in confusion. "Garrick, what are you talking about. I got this helmet from the fallen priestess, which allows me to see in the dark as an elf or dwarf might." She pointed to her new headgear.

"And I got these boots from the leader, which aid me in avoiding projectiles," Acherai added, pointing to the brown leather boots, small runes trimmed around their soles. "And you got...ummm..."

"... We did save him something, did we not?" Sephiria asked, having the good grace to sound embarrassed.

"I don't think there was anything else," Acherai said. "Huh...well, Garrick, you don't get anything. Sorry."

"HA!" Kagain said, showing his deep sympathy for his comrade.

Garrick pouted. Yes, pouted. “This seems unfair.” 

“Well… perhaps Thalantyr will give us some kind of magical reward for saving his apprentice?” Sephiria said earnestly.  “Whatever he does give to us, you can definitely have it.” 

“Speak for yourself,” Acherai said with a grin that was only partially mocking.  “He is a mage, after all.  I’m willing to bet that whatever we get, it will definitely be the best fit on me.”

One hour later…

“Five hundred,” Acherai murmured in annoyance, piling the final gold coin on the table before the severe-looking wizard Thalantyr. 

“Which just about covers the cost of the scrolls you stole,” the old man said, his almost childish smirk making him appear nearly ten years younger, which still left him looking about a thousand years old in Acherai’s opinion.  “And since you were so kind as to help me out with the Melicamp situation, I will be kind enough to reward you for your aid in the ritual by not turning you into a chicken yourself.” 

“Normally I’d be mocking you,” Melicamp said cheerfully, “but I’m just so happy to not have feathers anymore.” 

“How come he doesn’t have to pay?  I just stole a few scrolls. He took magical bracers and destroyed them,” Acherai growled, trying his best to refrain from punching his former fellow apprentice in the face, and trying even harder to not do the same to Sephiria, who was smiling at him in a manner he would have called wicked if he had seen it on anyone other than a teenage paladin.  

“And he will suffer, I assure you,” Thalantyr said, casting a sidelong glance at the young man, who had the good grace to look terrified.  “I’ve agreed to look after him again, due to what I can only assume is senility setting in.  Rest assured that his apprenticeship shall make the Abyss seem positively charming.” 

“Erk,” Melicamp said. 

“As for the rest of you, I’d ask you to leave, but it is nightfall.  And since I am certain your antics have riled up the wildlife for miles around and you did provide me a new sale,” the old man said with a smirk, “I suppose you may stay the night on the grounds of High Hedge, within the boundaries of my wards. You’ll need to provide your own food and drink.  I offer you a night of safety, not a full service inn.  And if you wish to leave, by all means, do so and do not return.”

“Ah, yes, the famed Thalantyr charm,” Acherai said with a sigh.  “Well. We saved a chicken and lost a chunk of money, for no reward.  Thank you so much to our illustrious leader.”

Sephiria smiled. “Are you trying to shame me with the knowledge that I saved an innocent man and made you pay for a crime you committed?” 

“… Dammit, I was.  I forgot that doesn’t work with you.”

“HA!” Kagain said, helpfully. 

“What are you laughing about? You hate generosity and justice and all that.”

“Aye, but it’s funny watching ya sputter about over yer own plans going wrong,” the dwarf said cheerfully.  “Bard!  Quit bein’ a moron and help me set up the tents an’ bedrolls.”

“I’m still a bit sore that I never got a magical reward like all of you,” Garrick murmured as he followed the dwarf obediently outside.  “But I suppose that I have the magic of music, so that will suffice until I can get some actually magical magic.”

“Do you ever have the urge to simply punch that man in the face?” Acherai asked Sephiria as they watched the two go.  “I often get that urge.”

“Not recently,” Sephiria said, “but this new interest in treasure he’s picking up has him reminding me of you, so I’m sure I’ll develop it eventually.”

“You are going to be making my life much harder, aren’t you?”

“Only if I do Torm’s will properly.”

(*)

“N-now, gentlemen,” Khalid said, “I am certain that we can solve this problem fairly and p-peacefully.  Please, t-tell us what you seek?” “This here tree’s bigger ‘n others,” said one of the two men, who looked like a man and a particularly stupid cow had gotten married, and then the cow had cheated on the man and had a baby with another, even more stupid cow, and the resulting cow had just been oddly humanoid.  His name was Caldo, and against all odds, he was the smart one.  “So, there must be treasure inside.”

“Huh?” the other man said.  His name was Krumm. And that told you about all you needed to know about him.  

“So’s we’re gonna chop it down.  So’s to get the treasure.” 

“Can you perhaps… n-not do that?” Khalid asked.  “It is merely that the tree is the home to a dryad, who is quite put off at the thought of you…well.  M-murdering her.” 

“Huh?” Krumm said. 

“Sorry, ain’t happenin’.  Big trees mean big treasure, as our pa always used ta say afore he got eaten by a cow,” Caldo said firmly.

“… E-eaten by a…?” Khalid repeated, hoping he had heard something wrong in that sentence. 

“So this is my life now, then?” Xan asked nobody in particular, his tone somewhere between disbelief and despair.  “Sweet Sehanine, remind that the next time I’m kidnapped and tortured by evil priests, I should just give up and accept death.”  

“The next time you’re…” Imoen began. 

“Imoen, please stop helping.” 

Khalid sighed.  “Jaheira d-dear, we s-seem to have hit an impasse in n-negotiations.  Perhaps you should try? You are often more gifted at…f-forceful debate.”

Jaheira stepped forward.  “You.  Imbecile.”

“Huh?” Krumm said. 

“The other one.” 

“Huh?” Caldo said.

“… Charming.  I speak with the authority of nature when I say this, buffoon.  If you lay so much as a finger upon this wonder of the world, I will gut you like a trout.  Am I understood?”

“Huh?” Krumm said.

“That sounded like a threat,” Caldo said, after a few seconds to ponder the statement.

“Be cautious, friend Jaheira,” Minsc whispered loudly.  “This foe is cunning!  Already he has discovered your hostility toward him!”  

“Huh?” Krumm asked.

Jaheira did not reply, precisely.  She just began to shake.  It was not terribly cold, so it seemed unlikely that the weather was getting to her; and of course, she was never one to show a great deal of fear.  Khalid, who knew his wife very well and suspected that, for some reason, she was merely filled to the brim with unspeakable fury that would shortly explode like a wildfire, took several steps away from her and said a small prayer for the souls of the unfortunate morons who had so called down her wrath. 

“So,” Caldo said, “If’n y’all would go away, we’re getting to the cuttin’ of that tree now.  And ain’t no treasure fer y-“

He had probably been about to say ‘you,’ or potentionally something like ‘ya’ or ‘y’all’.  However, what he actually said was ‘the sound of Jaheira’s staff slamming very hard into a human skull.’

Well. 

He didn’t say that, but that general sort of sound most definitely came from the area of his head. 

(*)

Sephiria realized, of course, that walking away from the party in the middle of the night, as they slept, was not the best idea in the world.  She had been the target of no less than five assassins in the last week, she shouldn’t be alone in a strange place.  But she needed time to think, and besides, she needed practice using her new helmet.  Infravision was… odd, to say the least, everything around her, trees and animals and swirls in the air, all visible clear as day, but all in shades of red and yellow, like the forest was not merely lit to her eyes, but actually ablaze.  

The grim thought almost made her laugh.  It suited the mood, she supposed.    

This last day had been complicated for the young paladin.  She had felt something inside her that she couldn’t explain, something dark and wrong that acted against everything she had ever believed to be right.  And for a time, she wondered if that somehow changed who she was.  If something outside her control could change her, affect her morality. 

But the events with Melicamp had changed things.  She had saved a man, with no expectation of gain for herself. Merely to save him.  And it had felt right.  No inner darkness had turned against her, forced her off that path.

There was something… off about her.  She couldn’t deny that anymore.  But whatever it was, however out of her control it might be, it couldn’t control her either.  She was still her own person, for the moment. 

And that meant so was Acherai, and that worried her. 

It wasn’t that he was a bad person, exactly.  It was that he wasn’t a good one.  He tried to humor her often enough, and he didn’t seem quite as absolutely mercenary as Kagain, but he had made it clear enough that he was more interested in his own benefit than in helping the innocent. 

She could trust herself to resist darker temptation, inner demons.  But whatever that force within her might have been, Acherai had it too.  And she was not at all sure she could trust him. 

She sighed.  “Well,” she said to nobody in particular, “perhaps I can serve as a conscience to him, if nothing else. It’s not as if I have anything else to do with my time, at the moment, unless I happen to luck onto a valuable antique book to go talk to Imoen.”

“Grrrrrrrrr…” said a reply from behind her. 

She winced, spinning on the sound, sword in hand.  “Or I am eaten by a gnoll.  How charming.”

There were three of them, and she cursed herself for being so caught up in her thoughts that she had not heard them sooner, because they were hardly stealthy.  Like kobolds, they held some canine features mixed with a humanoid body, but the similarities ended there; while a kobold was a scrawny thing that a decently built human could end with a good kick, gnolls tended toward the huge.  The three approaching her now were each easily a foot taller than her, and the halberds they carried, while a bit rusted and dull, still looked very capable of killing her horribly. 

She charged them, head on, and unlike just a few days ago, she did it with a plan in mind other than righteous smiting.  She had always been a strong girl, and always been a natural with a sword, but the events of the last few days had shown her just how unready she had been for real combat.  Most notably, the advantages to be gained from ensuring the battleground favored you. 

The three gnolls had come through a copse of trees, and they were taller than her, carrying longer weapons.  They would come to regret this, deeply. 

The lead gnoll snarled and stabbed forward at her chest, and she caught the strike, turning the weapon to the side… and directly into a tree.  The creature yipped like an angry hound as its blade was lodged into the soft wood, stuck in deep and at an angle that made yanking it out awkward at best.  Its comrades tried to lunge past it, but the thing was thrashing madly to get the weapon freed, and they had to step off to the sides to get a clear strike at the human they had thought to be easy prey…

Sephiria lunged once, straight for the throat, and by the time the two flanking gnolls had cleared their path through the brush to her, they were the only two left.  The first to reach her snarled its fury, and she prepared to parry… when it proved to her that while she might be improving, and quickly, she still had much to learn. 

The thing threw aside its spear, leaving her parrying at thin air, and lunged for her throat with only the yellowed, wickedly sharp fangs in its own muzzle.  With a start, Sephiria fell backwards, the thing’s stinking weight pressing down on her, its fangs ripping at her face and hair. 

Gods bless that helmet.  Above and beyond letting her see the gnolls even in the darkness, she was firmly aware that she might well have gotten her face bitten off by now if she hadn’t been wearing it.    

She slammed her gauntleted fist into the thing’s mouth, letting it break its fangs on the heavy splint gloves as it gnawed in futility.  Blood and slobber flowed around her gauntlet, and she tried her hardest to stay calm because she knew that second one was coming up too, and she needed to get her sword arm free from under the thrashing bulk of this vile thing…

The second gnoll raised high its weapon, apparently preparing to chop through its own comrade to get to her.  She found that offensive on several levels, but at the moment mostly the fact that she was fairly sure it could do that.  She slammed her forehead into the muzzle of the creature biting at her, breaking its nose with a sickening crunch.  The thing yipped, rearing back in pained instinct, trying to get off the thing that had hurt it so, struggling to breath through the blood… which was the exact wrong thing to do.  Her arm free, she altered the trajectory of her blade and lunged, running the creature through and rolling forward to pin it to the earth. 

And not coincidentally, to get out of the path of the descending halberd of its comrade. She felt the weapon slice the air behind her, heard it impact the ground, and the growls of the gnoll as it snarled in frustration.  But she knew, also, that her sword was well and truly pinned, fallen into the same trap she had lured the enemy into.  She dove for one of the discarded halberds, although she was hardly skilled with it, rationalizing that any weapon would be better than none.  She whirled, her newly claimed (and very filthy, ugh) polearm at the ready…

And blinked in confusion.  

The final creature stood, its weapon pulled free from the soil.  But rather than lunging at her, or even simply growling in challenge, it stood stock-still, as if it were a statue.  For a moment, wondered if perhaps Acherai had followed her, if this was some spell of his; and then the thing tipped forward, falling flat on its face, and she saw the black-shafted arrow sticking out of the back of its skull. 

"My apologies," a voice said from the shadows. It was soft-spoken, yet still somehow harsh, as if the speaker was unused to actually saying words.  "I heard the sounds of battle from some distance away. It took a moment to reach you...though it seems you needed little help. Are you injured?"

Sephiria threw down the rusted halberd, glad she hadn't had to try her luck with the clumsy thing, and took off her helmet to wipe the sweat from her brow and shake her hair out. She nodded in the direction of the new arrival as she began working her sword out of the ground. "A few scratches, but nothing severe. I can heal them myself, when I've had time to rest, and bandages will suffice until morning. My thanks for your aid, stranger."

"Kivan, of Shilmista," the source of the voice said, stepping into view, the pale moonlight illuminating his features beneath a plain brown hood, and Sephiria blinked in surprise. 

He was an elf, which she had already not been expecting. All the elves she had met, even Acherai, had a certain...otherworldly grace to them. As if their every move was a dance, their every word a song, and other races simply could not hear the music. They were beautiful, in a way, but also eldritch and oddly insubstantial, like they did not quite exist in the same world as humans.

Kivan, as he introduced himself, was about as musical and insubstantial as a jagged rock at the bottom of a cliff. He was as tall as Sephiria, and nearly as broad in the arms and shoulders, unusually large for any elf. And of course, his voice, the more she heard it, had a definite rasping quality to it that left it less 'lyrical' and more like he was speaking through a mouthful of gravel. His gear, further, was plain and serviceable; worn leather armor, a simple wooden spear strapped across his back, and the massive longbow in his hands. All appeared to be of human make, well-used, and oddly rugged for something an elf would carry.

And, she noticed, both weapons were very large. If this Kivan told her that he was out here hunting bears, she would not be shocked. Of course, he might also be hunting people, so...

"I am a traveler and adventurer, most recently out of Beregost," she replied to his introduction, all technically true, but the most she felt comfortable sharing. 

The elf smiled slightly at her reticence. "A traveler who does not give her name is one who has something to hide..." he paused, looking down at the bodies of the gnolls, and admitted, "...or, admittedly, one who is being hunted. Which are you?"

After a brief pause, she admitted, "... Hunted. By the same group that killed my father."

Pain flashed behind Kivan's eyes, visible to her even in the dim light. "Then you have my sympathy. These are dark days, and many have such tales of loss to tell.  I recommend you return to your group and stay with them, for numbers are certainly safer.  But first, I must ask: the group who attacked you. Were they, perhaps, members of the Black Talon company?  Or the Chill, perhaps?  They sometimes employ gnolls, were these three vermin connected to them in any way?”

Sephiria fought to hide her surprise.  The elf’s gruff tone had gone from what sounded like honest pity to a barely contained, icy rage she was honestly a bit unnerved by.  “I… no. Or at least, I do not know for certain.  Who are these groups?”

“The ‘bandit’ attacks that have plagued the region.  They are not performed by bandits at all, but by members of these two organizations,” Kivan said flatly, a snarl of anger audible even under the normal rumble of his voice.  “They are mercenary companies, attacking caravans and travelers to collect iron because they are being paid to do so.  I know not their employer, but it matters not.  They need to be stopped, and I have… personal reasons to seek their destruction. That is all you need to know, at the moment.”

Well.  That was news to her.  Despite the odd circumstances and the elf’s obviously dark mood, she began to feel a certain elation at the notion.  Even as she had feared for the future of the group, an obvious solution had fallen into her lap.  The iron crisis that gripped the region had killed or ruined the lives of at least hundreds of people, probably even more.  Stopping a group exacerbating it was clearly a good act, a clear White in the shades of grey that had made up her life of late.  And best of all, it was not as if Acherai… or even Kagain, as vile as he was!...could argue with the merits of fixing the economy of the region in which they lived and did business. 

And if, during this quest, she took the chance to whisper in Acherai’s ear on occasion, show him the value of acting in such a way, the simple joy and satisfaction that were to be found in protecting the innocent and helping the helpless, well, that was a very nice bonus indeed.  If it was at all possible to change his outlook, she needed to do it.  He was not precisely a friend, but he was a comrade-in-arms, and she was aware she would very likely be dead if not for him.  Letting his soul be overtaken by this shared presence that infected them both was not something she could, in good conscience, do.  If she could resist it, then so could he; she merely needed to show him how.

“Sir Kivan,” she said brightly.  “Allow me to re-introduce myself.  I am Sephiria, a paladin of the god Torm, and an adventurer most interested in the quest you have outlined.  If you seek aid in your battle against these brigands, then I am pleased to offer my sword, and the swords and spells of my allies as well.”       

Kivan arched an eyebrow. “A paladin? That explains your skill, for certain, but can you be sure the rest of your party will not object?  I have no reward to offer save my services in your own quests, and many would not find that enough.” 

Sephiria smiled. “You are fortunate, then, that our own quest at the moment should not be long-lived, and will take us no further than Beregost.  We need merely to turn in a small item for the bounty on a criminal we detained, and to find an individual we believe may be connected to the… the loss of my father.  It should take little enough time once we find this ‘Tranzig,’ though I fear that Acherai and Kagain might be less than merciful in their efforts to extract information from him.”

Kivan laughed bitterly at that.  “A paladin indeed.  Only someone like that would speak of mercy for the man who killed her father.”

Sephiria sighed.  “I… I’m not sure.  On the one hand, yes, I… want them to pay.  More than almost anything.  But on the other, I wonder if that is the right thing for me to want.  I’ve been having doubts, lately, but… I think that maybe, more than ever, my morals need to guide me. And that may mean making harder choices than usual.”

Kivan smiled, but there was more sadness than anything in his eyes.  “Then you have my envy, child, as well as my pity.  I fear that someday… you will find those views far too hard to uphold, but for now, I wish I could hold as tightly to my code as you do.”

“Well,” Sephiria said lightly, horribly uncomfortable and seeking something that might help lighten the mood, “this Tranzig character appears to be little more than a catspaw in any event.  Perhaps when we find the ‘Tazok’ that he reports to, my temper will fail me, but until th-”

She was cut off, then, by Kivan’s hand clamping down on her shoulder with enough force she felt it even through her armor.  “What did you say?!” he snarled, his eyes wide with a manic fury, and… she noticed with a great deal of shock and not a small amount of fear, as she looked at him more closely than she liked, he had a jagged scar across his throat, and trailing down below the collar of his undershirt.

His voice had not sounded ‘elven’ to her because, quite clearly, his vocal cords had been damaged when someone had slit his throat. 

“You… your neck…” she whispered.

“Was slashed open, and I was left to die,” he hissed, “by the same monster that killed the only person I have ever loved, and ruined my life.  He tortured my wife to death while I watched.  While he forced me to watch.  For hours. For pleasure.  And then, when he was done, he slit my throat personally, and threw me into a cold ditch by the side of the road, next to what was left of the love of my life.  

“And his name was Tazok.  And you hunt him?” Kivan finished, his voice low, and cold, and full of more malice than Sephiria had ever heard.

She shuddered, but nodded.  “We… are, yes.  We don’t know for certain, but… his is the name we have.”

“Then know that I will gladly serve you with my life, with two condition,” Kivan said, very softly.  “First, Tazok will die when we find him.  And when he dies, the last thing he sees is my arrow plunging into his heart.”

Sephiria shuddered once again.  There was no light in his eyes, not in the literal sense like with Acherai, but deep down, under her skin, she could feel it. 

Murder.  Blood calling to blood, the need for it.  Is it always so bad? Does it not serve a needed purpose?  Does this man not deserve his revenge? Is his rage not justified?  Would the spilling of his foe’s blood not bring relief and justice to many? 

Follow the call of your blood. It will not lead you astray…

She shook her head, growling in frustration.  “We will… discuss it.  For now, come with me.  I’ll show you the group, and we’ll talk it over.”

She turned in the direction of the camp, and led the strange elf toward her companions, feeling better at the thought of having more armed people around her.  It wasn’t that she distrusted Kivan, really, though he was a questionable sort. She firmly believed that his hatred was directed firmly, and only, at Tazok.

She distrusted herself, though.  As she walked, she glanced down at the corpses of the gnolls, and shuddered again.  It had been so easy to kill them.  She hadn’t even had to think about it.  She had just defended herself without though, and… and she wasn’t sure when that would stop.  Or if it should.

Ugh. She had thought she’d worked this out, but once again the universe didn’t make sense. 

Look on the bright side, she thought dryly, as she walked. At least there were only three of them. I would certainly hate to find any more. 

(*)

“Um.  So,” Imoen said, hopping back down into the crag from her scouting mission.  “I have good news, and bad news.  First, and this is the good news, I found the gnoll fortress! 

“The bad news is there’s… y’know.  I checked around the edges, and there’s only one way in.  The walls are too high to climb, and the only entrance is up a slope with about ten guards.  But I was able to climb a tree near the outer wall and see inside. And there's... erm. Well, as for gnolls, I counted... forty of them."

The silence was painfully deep for a painfully long time, before Minsc said, “I shall take the twenty on the left!” 

“So.  We are going to die, then?”  Jaheira asked sadly. 

"I have been saying that for days and you only now begin listening to me?" Xan muttered.

"Not," Imoen said brightly, "if we can take the twenty on the right!"