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[Aamon Blackheart]

Click for Prologue

Chapter I

The Moon and Stars

“Good, I see that I managed to get you interested. Listen carefully, follow my instructions and take heed to my words, once we part ways you are on your own. Waymoot is only a day walk from here, that’s where you are supposed to start your search, and of course that is where I arranged for you to meet with those that are going to accompany you on this delicate endeavor. If you know what is good for you, you should just all work together, a medusa is not a foe to be taken lightly. You have by midnight tomorrow to get yourself acquainted with the town and the local legends surrounding these disappearances. Of course, no one should ever pass through Waymoot without visiting The Moon and Stars, one of the most famous taverns there is. That’s your best bet if you are ever going to find a lead. Also be smart with whatever questions you address the people around Waymoot, don’t let the purple dragons suspect your true motivation.

At midnight tomorrow travel north-east from The Moon and Stars and after ten minutes of walking you should come upon one of the most hunched tree you’ve ever seen. You can’t miss it. There you will assemble with my other employees. Bring whatever you may think that could battle the medusa and her rather special ability, I trust that in your hands as you look like the better killer out of the two of us. Return only when you have the eyes, you will find me here, in Suzail.”

---

After much consideration and gentle persuasion Aamon managed to get his new traveling companion to accept the job so they could adventure together once more. Nothing exciting or out of the ordinary happened ever since a couple of weeks ago when they met in that strange graveyard in Sembia. Even though curiosity was not a defining trait of the warlock, he could not help but have his interest piqued by the prospect of having to face a legendary medusa. He had to agree that he’s never one in his life, and this might just prove like both a learning experience and an opportunity to gather more resources in the shape of gold or other items – having to live from one day not knowing if he will have what to eat in another was not something that was particularly appealing to the man. Since they managed to escape that crypt, everyday was all about traveling from here and there, he had no apparent reason and never bothered to ask Faith about hers either – strange circumstances had made them stuck to each other, that maybe not either of them could explain or at least bother to do so.

The one day journey from Suzail to Waymoot would prove to be just as dull and simple as the past two weeks, where were the brigands and the cutthroats that usually ambushed unsuspecting travelers? Cormyr looked just too peaceful and silent to be true.

Once at the gates of Waymoot, after a small debate, both Aamon and Faith decided that they’d probably be more efficient in gathering what little information they could by splitting up and sweep the settlement each on his own, not to reassemble before midnight, at the place designated by the strange alchemist.

Waymoot was a piece of paradise on the Realms, being visited by so many strange creatures, from faeries to even dragons, it was one of the few places where Aamon was not sized up at every turn and watched with suspicion. Compared to many others, he was able to pass by just as an ordinary man, upon a first glance he was far from threatening to anyone around. This allowed him to move freely and exercise the little persuasion he learned at home. Getting acquainted with the local gossip, he learned that the most recent person that went missing was a young townswoman, daughter of a local respected merchant. He would surely pay the father a visit before midnight.

The night came sooner than he expected, so before proceeding towards the rendezvous point he decided to take a rest, if sitting in a loud tavern could be considered rest. Silence was something that he did not enjoy thoroughly.

Midnight soon followed, the sky was clear allowing the moon to shed its light on the wilderness of the land. Aamon was the first to arrive at the hunched tree, or so it seemed upon a first glance, he could not see, hear or feel anyone around, and as such he pressed his back against the tree and waited for the others to arrive.
-
What was Faith doing all this time? Who were the other mysterious adventures? – the answers to those question were soon to be revealed.

[Keshimakel Inzevebenga]

[I just want to apologies if there is any grammer or spelling mistakes, I wrote this post fast because my computer broke. I succeeded in borrowing my friends computer but i think he has a pet peeve about borrowing his computer for a extended amount of time, go figure]

"Theres no reason I should go!" Keshimakel growled to himself for what must have been the 50th time this evening. It was none of his business if some boy of some family was taken from a unknown creature even if his poor mother came begging to him to find her son. She just had to grow up, that was life and nothing ever went your way, bad things happened and thats was that. The faster she learnt that lesson the better she would be off. He himself learned that lesson many years ago, and good riddance it was easier to do his job and fight.

Even if for some strange reason he would be able to find this creature that was causing havok in snatching people like they were flies, in most probability the child was dead, end of story.

But he's just a kid. A lingering and obnoxious conscience said in the back of Keshimakel head.

"Damnit, damnit." Keshimakel snarled out loud as he lost the internal battle and got up from his chair strapping on a long sword to the left of his waist, as he made his way out of the inn he was occupying this evening. There was no reason for him to bring his staff or bow, what was needed now was his ranger abilities not any magical prowess.

It took Keshimakel only two hours to get to the meeting place where he hoped to meet the other members committed to this pointless task of finding this creature of havock and ending its reign of terror once and for all.

Smiling broadly Keshimakel bowed to the only other person standing by the hunch tree. "My name is Keshimakel Inzevebenga and if I may ask what have I gotten myself into?"

Straight to the point no wasting time on unessential details like his rank or occupation. He didn't want to be here and even less wanted to track some creature of terror, but he committed himself and that was that.

[Kaleb Maeren]

After the Mere Cormyr was heaven – it was another plane of existence filled with bubbly drinks and beautiful women, full of life, clean and warmth, and it was peaceful. Not only that, the people were alive, not husks of rotting flesh. It wasn’t that the undead really bothered him, far from it, but nevertheless it was an adventure that the shade did not want to repeat. Kaleb was just happy to escape the swamps with his skin intact. Over the last few days he had gone as far away from the god-forsaken place as he dared, but it seemed as if just as soon as he arrived in Suzail he was recruited for yet another life-threatening task.

The client was offering quite a sum to help with the expedition, and the shade as eager to aid in the adventure. He was fairly rested from his time in the moors, and he had never fought a gorgon before. The opportunity to test himself and gain a large sum of money was too great to pass up. No matter the danger. So he had set out from town and made his trip to Waymoot as quickly as possible.

Getting into the city was not difficult for the shade, either. He had shadowstepped into a safehouse; an empty building he and some of his allies had used in the past, and had set out from there. In only a short time he had scouted the surrounding area, listened to the horrors wrought by the beast, and discovered the beast had killed several people in town. The most recent was a merchants daughter, but the worst were all of the people petrified by the creature’s gaze. What bothered the shade the most, however, were the bodies. He had seen them, some of them ready for battle, others screaming in fear. He had learned that the merchant’s daughter had not been retrieved. He was offering a sizeable reward, but did the shade want to risk himself on such an adventure?

Many people had claimed to have seen a woman in the woods. Her face was veiled, but her body was quite exposed. Her skin was fair, almost fey-like, and she wore clothes that revealed her femine curves. But when a man came close she changed, her skin seemingly melting away, and becoming that of a serpentine beast. However, Kaleb assumed most of this was nonsense. Still, he was not going to go unprepared. The rumor was that an alchemist in town was secretly working on a spell or potion to counteract the effects and reverse the petrifaction process, but that would not be available for some time.

He did, however, have potions that would allow someone to see the beast for what it truly was, as well as give partial immunity, at least for a few moments, to the creature’s gaze. He had some concerns, but Kaleb was willing to try it. By nightfall, Kaleb had formulated a plan based around the potions, and had acquired a few items that would give them an edge in battle, and before long the shade was off.

Kaleb moved through the shadow plane quickly, shadowstepping out of the city and onto the main road. He knew the meeting place already, but did not want to go directly to it. Stepping across the plane of shadow gave him a sense of euphoria, a lightheadedness that he savored, and he didn’t want to appear too giddy to his comrades; especially when he could not control the tendrils of inky black from rolling from out from under his sleeves. So he walked the distance to bring himself under control. Finally, he pulled the shadows into himself, and gained his focus.

It was then when he arrived that he caught sight of his companions. They stood beneath the tree, and the shade found that he recognized one of them.

“Keshimakel, you must be following me,” Kaleb said, approaching the two. He pulled the large bag off of his shoulder, and sat it lightly onto the ground. “Evening,” he said to Aamon, “I’m Kaleb Maeren.”

[Faith Divinine]

(Sorry for the delay. My life is... rearranging itself.)

Faith had not been productive in her ongoing quest for information. She had wandered all day, not quite knowing where she was headed or where the supposed rondezvous point was going to be. All she was really certain of was that she had split up with Aamon in order to try and glean some information, and had not been very fruitful. You'd really think someone would know something with all that was going on. And also, that that same someone would be willing to divulge said information to her. But alas, Lathander's graces were not shining on that area of her life today, and perhaps he had good reason, she thought as the night hour came upon her, all too swiftly. Speaking of which... it was almost time to meet up with everyone, and though she was sure she would get lost at least twice in her efforts to converge with the main party, she should have time to pour over more of that tome the temple had given her...

Since her small excursion with Aamon into a crypt, and the subsequent developements that took place there, three key changes had come over Faith. One, you could say she was a little bit more on her toes. Two, she had a friend, of that she was certain. And three, she had taken up priesthood.

Now, those that had known Faith even briefly knew that such was not just a sudden whim or fancy. The altruistic girl believed in doing everything absolutely right and to the best of her abilities. If she had no intentions of reaching this lofty goal, then the thing obviously was not important enough to her to follow through. For her, this new branch of her life was an important one, rooted in the epiphany with which her deity had provided her.

That, and it was nice to be able to heal people, wasn't it? She had been certain to pick up on that key spell first, though so far it was limited to shallow wounds...

In any case, it was part of what had influenced her descision to follow her warlock companion into this shady quest. She had her doubts as to whether or not she really should have come, but Aamon had prompted her and she had thusly complied. Really, it didn't take much, as the notion piqued her interest to begin with and people's lives seemed to be at stake. Glancing again at the holy incantation in her tatterdemalion old book, she smiled and rose to her feet, hopefully to find Aamon.

It took a lot of wandering aimlessly, and then stopping to ask directions before she ever located the place, let alone arrived. It was hard stumbling through the clear night. When she did make it, however, there were already the three men there, and she figured she must be last. Her initial instinct, of course, was to apologize, but they were talking so she just bowed her head deeply.

When she came back up her eyes immediately scrutinized the new arrivals with blantant, if innocous, curiousity. There was an elf, which excited her because she had met very few in her travels. Many of them grew tired of her cheerful insouciance, and she hoped that wouldn't be the case with this sir. He looked kind, if battered, and she did not mean that physically.

As for Kaleb, he was someone who she thought would not like very much to talk to her, but whom she would likely open up dialogue with at some point. There was an interesting quality to him, something she couldn't define.

Then, of course, there was Aamon. She grinned sheepishly at him, apologetic for her late arrival to this place and her utter uselessness in garnering information. They'd only been travelling together a short while, and he was almost perpetually lost to himself, but she already had included him in her small circle of people she cared for deeply. That was why she had agreed to this quest, after all, in the interest of helping him out. Someday she hoped to alieviate his soul, if only slightly. Even if she wasn't off to a great start today... her head dropped in shame. Hopefully she would be of more aide to the party when the time came to adventure.

Speaking of which, when was that time?

[Aamon Blackheart]

Waiting by the tree all by himself for a few minutes, Aamon couldn’t help but think that the few hours before midnight which he chose to spare for rest proved less than comforting or relaxing as he wanted them to be. In the tavern The Moon and Stars, while still sitting at his table and enjoying a local non-alcoholic drink and a piece of cheese and bread, he somehow managed to doze off. Taken for a common drunkard he was left alone and unhindered allowing sleep to take over him completely. The one thing he hated more than silence was sleep, every time he closed his eyes, his mind was ‘abducted’, invaded by the strangest entities and dreams, of horrific places and creatures. He was unsure why anything or anyone would bother to cloud and haunt him each time he slept, but this particular dream was somehow different than the vast majority of the rest, the creatures depicted in them were not out to get his life and sanity, but to warn him of a thing that was about to happen in the near future. The warlock had learned already than whenever these bad omens occurred he should be wise and take them into account, something unpleasant was really about to happen. It was all connected to the job of hunting down the medusa, he had no doubts about that. But there wasn't much he could now, it was already too late to pull out of it, and he couldn’t abandon Faith over a bad hunch, nor he could share his dream with the rest of the group either (not yet at least), they’d probably label him as insane – it was not hard for him to make people live under that impression when it came to this. At least now, ‘enlightened’ by the dream, with a little insight that things were bound to get wild he would be more on his guard, and better prepared ahead of time before throwing himself blindly into the lair of the medusa.

As he stood there thinking, with his back against the tree and arms crossed over his chest, the sound of steps filled the area as the others started to slowly make their appearance.

At his feet, unnoticed till now, a black cat used his right foot as a pillow.

The first one to arrive was a man that looked very similar to an elf, he wore plate armor and certainly did not lack in the martial skill category. Aamon sized up the new arrival, his tired eyes taking in account any particular trait. It seemed that the employer has made a good deal securing this front-line fighter. Keshimakel Inzevebenga, the elven-touched man introduced himself as…

Probably striking as slightly rude, Aamon chose to delay his reply a few seconds upon hearing another one approach. Confusion and intrigue took over him, how did this second arrival manage to avoid detection till the last moment, until it would have probably been too late if he chose to attack. The man was sure to possess an extraordinary ability that Aamon would surely like to find out the way it functioned.

“I am Aamon Blackheart.” And finally he introduced himself, leaving his allegiance with the Zhentarim out of his introduction line. Few knew that about that, not even Faith had found out yet, most of the people are very judgmental and would jump to quick assumptions. No one would ever be able to understand his true reasons for signing up with such a terrible guild of mercenaries. “And that would be Faith Divinine.” He motioned with his hand towards the feminine figure approaching from the darkness of the night, even before she stepped into the clearing.

It was a very funny occurrence, it seemed like the newly assembled party was also paired on a two by two basis. This way, everyone had at least one other person to rely themselves on.

“We’ve gotten into a big mess!” Aamon proceeded, to respond to the early question of the elven warrior. “I am afraid we are throwing ourselves into the unknown. It’s little I’ve managed to learn about this said medusa. I know only that a local merchant’s daughter is the most recent of victims, and I also managed to find out where she was heading to before she disappeared. She used to go at least once per week to pluck flowers, not far from the city itself, we could start our search there, unless anyone else has a better idea, or knows more about this.” Just as quick, he went silent, shifting his gaze between his companions. Cormyr made it hard for travelers, adventuring was forbidden inside its borders without the proper documents and most of the times, only the Purple Dragons were allowed to wield weapons. Just by going on this hunt illegally they risked being found and apprehended.

[Kaleb Maeren]

‘Blackheart,’ the shade let echoed in his mind. The man was probably an assassin of some sort, but the more Kaleb studied him the less he thought so. He had strong ties to the world beyond this one, and the shade could feel it. He was touched by the plane of shadow, touched by the darkness, and he could feel when others were so blessed. Kaleb looked at the man, and he shook his head absently. Turning his head slightly, Kaleb nodded to both the man and the woman. Faith was an interesting being. Blackheart was a being and darkness, and she and Keshimakel were warriors of light. How did they end up coming together for a common goal?

The shade ended his daydreaming, and listened closely to his companions. Once Blackheart was finished, Kaleb began. “The girl was last seen going towards the King’s Forest. From what I have heard, many people have seen a woman in the woods – a beautiful figure, and she has tried to lure them in almost like a siren,” he said, taking a knee and beginning to go through his pack. He continued, “I did some research and found that gorgon’s can cast illusions over themselves, and I’m guessing this one has done the same. The merchant said his daughter would never associate with a strange person – much less one she met in the forest.”

“One of the alchemists in town gave me these,” he said, drawing out several small vials of blue-colored liquid. “It will allow us to see the beast so that she cannot deceive us,” he explained, handing one to each of his companions. He slipped the final one into a small loop on his breast, and then began rummaging through the pack again. It was strangely shaped, and he sat it up on its side, then he noted, “But I have another plan.”

Kaleb used his hand to turn down the edge of the pack, revealing an oblong shaped mirror hidden within its dept. A faint smirk crept up onto his lips as he flashed it at his companions, but was soon hidden just as he hid the shining mirror. He had to be careful with it; he did not want it to break before they got their quarry. Kaleb hefted it over his shoulder, and then stood straight again. It was clear that he had put a lot of thought and research into this idea, but would it be possible to show the beast its own putrid gaze? It was worth a shot.

“I’ve also brought a few antidotes for various poisons, since the bite from a medusa is danger at best, as well as a small number of healing potions,” he nodded a bit, somewhat uncertain, and then said, “But I think our best weapon is going to be cold steel, unless any of you can cast spells. The potions will give us the ability to look at it, at least for a few moments – long enough to hit it with whatever we have.”

[Faith Divinine]

Faith caught only the very end of the introductions, which was sad, because they seemed to be comprised of herself and Aamon. As things stood, she had no idea as to the titles procured by their other two companions, but she assumed that those who were late could not expect anything less. It was a punishment, of sorts. As for the shadowed character (she could think of no other way to describe him) he gazed first at Aamon, and she noted curiously the way he shook his head. It was almost a subconscious movement, in fact, the monk doubted if he had realized it at all, but it wedged itself deeply into her memories, something which would harass her sentiments at a later date. In any case, he proceeded to direct his eyes at both her and the elf, and she smiled lightly even before he nodded. They would all be in this together, correct? It was best for a team to have trust one another to some degree.

Then Aamon was speaking, and she listened carefully to his words. Strange, that he had convinced her to embark upon the quest with him and that now he was appraising it under a different light to the elf... but she didn't mind. It was her own responsibility, whether or not to wrapped herself up in quests such as this, and the warlock himself was not to blame.

A girl, picking flowers... Faith's heart twinged slightly, upset by the prospect. She had to tear it away from its sympathies in order to better listen to Kaleb, giving him her rapt attention.

He explained in great detail what he believed the specifics of the quest to be, and she commited it all instantly to memory. Her knowledge of such creatures as they were about to hunt was limited to the exaggerated tales of the bards and poets in Neverwinter. There had always been a million other, more interesting monsters to look into, so she hadn't read up on them in any of the various libraries whose information she had plundered either. However, she regretted this keenly as he spoke of them. It would have been an interesting topic to broach.

In any case, her eyes traced curiously over the potions and the mirror as he presented them, and she felt her esteem for the man rising as he continued to explain the various measures he had taken to prepare for this journey. Only one thing bothered her. Most potions had effects which were not permenantly affixed to their donors. These that would protect them from the gaze of the beast...

"Excuse me," she interceded kindly, directing her gaze pointedly at the potions at his feet. "But how long do those last, precisely? They will be essential to this quest, if you don't mind my asking." Otherwise, she smiled gratuitously. Again, Lathander had blessed them by sending the right individual to assist in their efforts. The monk hoped to show her deep thankfulness later, by doing well in assisting them. (And Aamon. She had gotten into this for him, originally.)All in all, this was sizing up to be a very... curious excursion.

She prayed it would be nothing more.

[Keshimakel Inzevebenga]

Keshimakel looked up taking every minute detail of his three party members surrounding for future reference. There was Kaleb, a shade, who didn't shy away from battles and Keshimakel was glad to have him as a ally and not as a enemy. Keshimakel really didn't know anything about Kaleb even if he had fought along side with him before, in some forsaken mission, that a half crazed count that he absolutely certain of was a vampire sent them on. Looking more closely at the shade, the elf could still see some shadow magic or whatever that parallel universe was made up of creeping on Kaleb cloths.

Then there was Aamon Blackheart, a warlock he was curtain of, his stench of black magic reeked off him. The darker arts of the universe didn't really draw to Keshimakel as it did other people, but to be next to a conjurer of said art made him want to kill the man this second. To manipulate the power of the universe in such a perverse matter was just wrong and the sooner he was away from the man the happier he would be. But for now he was an ally and such was immune to his judgment for as long the mission was active.

With a deep breath in a effort to control his anger and calm his nerves that just screamed to smite the warlock down even if he was his ally, his eyes drew on a girl, a flaming girl ready to on the creature that been snatching up people. Keshimakel frankly didn't care who she was and what she was capable of. No girl should be here, and the fact that Aamon introduced her, naming her Faith, must have been his doing in agreeing or even asking a girl to come along in such a hunt, he would put nothing against a warlock.

Keshimakel frowned to himself, he really should say something to make the girl leave but what. If he told her to leave, she would most probably ignore his caution and go forward never mind the consequences just to show she could. The only real solution Keshimakel had was to guard the women and make sure she didn't hurt herself let alone stop the monster from hurting her.

Snapping out of thought sharply, Keshimakel realized that Kaleb was explaining what kind of monster they would be facing and where it would most probably be located...

So it was a Medusa, Keshimakel smiled to himself as he took the bottle of liquid from Kaleb and inserted it into his belt pocket. His heart of a ranger leaped at the chance of killing a Medusa and ending its reign of chaos, he had never killed a Medusa before, and he inched to kill one now, expecially for what it had done.

Crossing his arms, Keshimakel looked forward and waited for Kaleb to answer Faiths question. No need to talk if you had nothing to say, and Keshimakel had nothing to say, at least nothing to add yet.

[Aamon Blackheart]

Once finished sharing the little information he’s gathered with the rest of the company, Aamon fell silent allowing Kaleb to continue and give all of them a better insight on what they should expect and what a medusa was exactly capable of doing. Surely by now they all managed to figure out that they were not out against an ordinary foe. The fact that the merchant’s daughter was heading for the King’s Forest could be easily confirmed by Aamon, it’s the same information he’s managed to gather by asking the locals since the merchant seemed a little too difficult to get a hold on not to mention asking him about his missing daughter; not even his shop had been open for the last few days.
Upon presented the vial, the warlock took it from the man’s grip and examined it by shaking it lightly and taking a careful look at the liquid inside of it – was it supposed to do exactly what Kaleb claimed that it could do? It was not long before he realized that the party has started on the wrong foot, with such a colorful array of members from different categories trust would prove to be an issue. Being alone for most of his life, it was almost impossible for Aamon to trust a stranger, however he chose to keep the skepticism for himself and swiftly slid the vial in one of his belt pouches beneath several layers of clothing.

His gaze was solely fixed on the man of the shadows, continuing to analyze the strange character while absorbing each of his words and information.
“A mirror?!” Aamon erupted, looking somewhat outraged. “Clearly you are not thinking to petrify her, it would be against the this job as a whole. If we get her petrified then how are we supposed to get her eyes?” He shook his head slightly, from what he recalled from the dark-clothed man, he was not interested in vanquishing this foe out of the goodness of his heart, but to get her eyes and use them for whatever he intended to use them for.

Something bothered Aamon, he felt himself analyzed layer by layer and his intimacy pierced by a knifing gaze. Just like those simpletons – masses that overpopulate Faerun – the warrior elf had a similar persecuting look in his eyes, he despised the warlock for what he was and the powers that he learned to twist with a mere effort of will. However a warlock was made not by choice but by destiny, he couldn’t be held accountable for that, but only for his deeds alone. He turned his head quick to lock his gaze with that of the elf, there was some wickedness about his face that it wasn’t there earlier, a sensible chord was struck and now his mind raced with vile thoughts of just poking the eyes of the elf out and step on them. The warlock realized that it was wrong to assume that he could consider the elf a valuable ally at first, and give him the benefit of the doubt, sadly he proved just another fish in the ocean.

As the word ‘spells’ came out through Kaleb’s lips, the warlock turned his hand so that his palm would face the sky, beginning to gather swirling chaotic energies from the Abyss itself above it into the shape of a flowing ball of a dense smoke. He was the one, and probably the only with a talent for the arcane arts, even if his power wouldn’t quite be considered ‘spells’ it was the closest thing to them. “… and I also have a few more tricks up my sleeve. I will be your ranged support.” Aamon chose to be the first to dismiss any doubts that might have shrouded his being, it was only fair for each of them to share the things they were best at. How else could they become a team?

Aamon’s hand was closed into a fist and with it the forming eldritch ball disappeared. By this time he chose to spare the silent elf from his unsettling gaze, Keshimakel might have not been prepared to see the things that his two orbs could show.

“But I fear we must also act fast, I heard a rumor that an official group is arriving in town tomorrow, I suspect they’d be our purple competition.” With a faint trace of sarcasm in his voice Aamon pushed against the tree and moved to Faith’s side, taking a few seconds to gaze upon her face before asking the rest of the group.

“Shall we move towards the King’s Forest then?”

[Faith Divinine]

Sometimes it was hard for Faith to understand the boundaries and social propriety of those she was acquainted with. Listening with cursory locution to the discussion of their quest, enough so that she could pay her undivided attention to any information which was grave enough to hook her, her gaze flitted between Keshimakel and Aamon. The look which the elf was giving her warlock companion was not amiable at all. In fact, it was enough to furrow her brow with something of disturbance. She did not like to think that either of them would be belligerent while they were trying to eliminate a threat such as this, was certain that anyone would have been pacified by the great importance of this quest. But more than that, it just pained her to see that someone would glare at another like that, without even knowing who they were.

Her lips tightened when the elf's eyes switched targets, piercing her innocent blue orbs with the harshest of scrutiny. She had a feeling he was a just man. If it came down to it he would pull any righteous soul out of the fire. But there was an acute sense of judgment there, too, and his expression in regards to her was one of foreboding, one that told her to leave with abandon. And if such were possible, she might have. However, she wanted to stay by Aamon. He was her friend. He had specifically asked her to accompany him on this quest. She was unable to prevent herself from following after him, leaping back into the fray for a second time since he had rescued her from those grave robbers not-so-long ago. Faith was torn on just how she felt about the warlock. He both frightened her and caused the reserved of her near-maternal instincts to over flow. If something happened to him, she wanted to be there, both to help him and set her conscience to rest.

Faith might have followed this line of thinking even further, and begun a soft prayer, however, Aamon had taken the liquid from their darker acquaintance and was proceeding to regard him incredulously. Or perhaps frustratedly. She couldn't really tell which, so mayhap he was exhibiting both. Once he was done presenting his argument, Faith continued to study him, until at last a somewhat malicious look crossed his features. It was subliminal, at best, but she was growing used to his many idiosyncrasies, and flashed him a look of disappointment. It would not be well to foster the elf's prejudice. Not at all...

So the minutes wore on, and she listened intently to Kaleb until such a time as Aamon gave a demonstration of his various powers. Many times had she seen those spells in action, and more than once had she watched them be utilized in destructive ways. It was another thing that shook her, and she completely forgot to mention her holy spells until the moment for the discussion was over and it was too late. Well, the fact likely wouldn't matter too much. The best blessings came as a surprise, she thought, a faint trace of a smile curling over her thin lips and accentuating her childish features.

Then Aamon was moving toward her: to her side, in fact, and as he looked over her countenance she offered him a reassuring smile. They would work through this mission together, just as they had the crypt. She wanted very much to make him aware of that fact, as he was a lonely figure. His distance was something like a vacuum, one that she wanted to seal, in a way. So onward they would go.

Onward... into the King's Forest...

[Kaleb Maeren]

At her question, Kaleb turned his attention to the monk. The potion, he knew, was not the most reliable defense against their enemy, but it was a start. To her he nodded slightly, knowing his expression showed a vast uncertainty, and then remarked, "The potion itself will last an hour, giving us time to find her and get the jump on her. If she thinks we are still deceived by her appearance we will have an advantage, but from what I understand you'll have mere seconds to look at the gorgon if you meet her gaze. The potion acts as a veil, not a barrier, and certainly won't protect us indefinitely."

However, it was Aamon's surprise that made him turn. Kaleb had considered the ramifications of turning the beasts weapons against it, and he knew it was a last ditch attempt. However, if defeat was inevitable he was not going to be the one to die. Survival was everything, and treasure could be sacrificed in the preservation of life. His life, anyway. However, he wouldn't tell them that. So, the the warlock he nodded, much in the same conceding way he had to Faith, admitting that his was a wild attempt at best.

"I intend to take it's head, one way or another. I was hoping that the mere sight might dishearten her from attacking, for I have other tricks up my sleeves as well," he explained, letting his hand trail across the leather-wrapped hilt of his blade without really thinking about it. However, he wouldn't be the one to start a pissing contest with his display of abilities. However, he would not argue about their placement in the battle.

"I will take the front," he explained, pulling a small piece of cloth from his pocket. He tied the long band around his forehead, and tested it by pulling it down in front of his eyes several times. Eventually he simply let it sit atop his brow, and did not move it. He wasn't going to look at the serpentine bitch if he could help it. Kaleb knew how to fight in the dark very well, and with his new blade he suspected he could slay the beast with no trouble. He had spent his life in the dark, and had learned the sound of war. He wished, however, that he still had his other dagger. They made life easier.

Opposition did not, however. His expression grew somewhat grave when Aamon mentioned the Purple Knights, and he shook his head. Then, like the rest of them, he joined in the march. "Well we better get going," he said.

[Aamon Blackheart]

Giving it a second thought Aamon reached to the conclusion that he might have been a little too quick to snap in surprise at the mere flash of the mirror. Fortune was nothing if they didn’t manage to get out of it with their lives, so the mirror should certainly be taken in consideration but only as a last resort, their employer clearly specified that he was interested in getting those eyes so they should make the focus of their main objective.

To say that Aamon was completely unaffected by the many doors shut in his face, the many rocks people threw at him and by the way he was treated by others overall would be a lie. After all, at core he was a human being and human beings had feelings that are fragile especially when you are young. Subconsciously he developed quite a touchy attitude when it came to someone insulting or looking down on him, he didn’t take criticism well either and he certainly didn’t like that condescending look Faith gave him. In return he flashed the same wicked expression as before as if warning her not to go there or even try to tell him wrong from right. Disappointment could have been read in her eyes and because of that Aamon was ready to burst into a fit. Thankfully he managed to calm himself down by taking several deep breaths and occupying his thoughts with a more pressing matter, namely the medusa that they were going to hunt.

With his attention turned back to Kaleb, the warlock noticed him tie a piece of cloth around his head. He didn’t know what to think of that, covering your eyes was clearly the best defense one could have against the petrifying gaze of the medusa, but few were those that could still function fully while blind, so this man was clearly something. Same could not be said for Aamon, without his precious eyes he was just as good as useless. However, being at the back of the group fulfilling the role of ranged support did give him a safe distance from the medusa and he was less likely to fall into her trap and gaze into her eyes in the heath of battle than the others were.

Leaving the front in Kaleb’s care, Aamon remained one step behind the group followed closely by his cat. Capable of perfect sight even at night time, he covered their backs, maintaining an ever-vigilant eye on their surroundings. Hopefully the advantage they gained over the strike team of Purple Knights by leaving earlier was enough for them to avoid a direct confrontation. Nothing good could come from them meeting face to face with their competitors, they could end up arrested and even dead in a worst case scenario, caught within the crossfire or mistaken for some of medusa’s followers. Cormyr’s best of the best was a force that clearly shouldn’t be underestimated.

“I was wondering…” The voice of the warlock broke the monotonous sound of their footsteps, “If we do have to face the Purple Knights, and they try to arrest us, how’d you all react?” Living in a filthy cell room for the next few years of his life was clearly not in his plans and as such he would clearly not go down without a fight. Sure, the Purple Knights were good people, fighting and serving a righteous cause but that was not nothing to the more corrupt side of Aamon, a side that made him capable of claiming the lives of those men without remorse or a second thought in order to preserve his own integrity. He walked a think line and should be thankful so far that he managed to avoid falling on the wrong side of justice.

He had the fierce self-preservation instinct of a very demon in all its might

[Faith Divinine]

A veil... hmm... Kaleb's admission as to the potency of the liquids in the vial was enlightening, to say the least. The fact that the potion could have no specified period of efficiency said much in regard to the threat the battle with the medusa suggested. Faith did not have a very good idea as to what the creatures were like; aforementionedly her studies on the topic were cursory at best. To her everlasting regret, the last time she was in a library she had perused the lore on dragons, and there weren't a terrible many libraries about. That was why she flashed Kaleb an appreciative smile in response to his answer, grateful that he had the courtesy to answer her questions. Aamon's inquiry was just as satisfying in its summary, to her immediate reassurance, and so it was that she sent another minute prayer soaring to her deity.

However, her spirits were dampened considerably at the look that Aamon flashed her, and she bit her lip. Perhaps his glare meant that he had read the meaning of her expression wrong, and the thought that perhaps she had wounded him emotionally drove chagrin into her soul. Later, if there were time, she would have to confront him about it directly. She certainly wasn't going to bring it up in the open like this. The warlock would hate her for that, she knew; consider it an act of humiliation or something like that. It had always struck her as odd and somewhat endearing how someone so strong could at once be so fragile. Even one action she made could break what progress she had made in trying to get close enough to help him, and she scolded herself fiercely for not being more careful. However, her attention was forced to return to their expedition as the party began to assemble a leader.

It appeared that the darker stranger was to take the lead, and Faith watched curiously as he tied a piece of cloth about his eyes. Her own orbs lit up with fascination when he moved effortlessly afterward. Learning to move about with ease in the dark was something that had never really crossed her mind, and suddenly it seemed to be the most providential skill which one could happen upon. She vowed to practice at it every peaceful opportunity she had, and committed that to memory with such deft finality that another would have rendered the decision juvenile.

As a matter of fact, the monk might have glided to the front alongside the shade and assailed him with the various and sundry complications which were thronging at the forefront of her conscience, but as it was she was apologetic for the warlock's sake and wanted to stay close enough to him that she could offer a sincere explanation should the occasion arise. Penance might by a ludicrous notion when they were headed toward their likely deaths, but he was her travelling companion and she owed him as much.

He asked about the purple knights, and she glanced back in surprise. For some reason she wasn't as concerned about them as everyone else seemed to be; a medusa was much more of a jeopardizing proposition in her mind. You could not use diplomacy against such a creature, as you could a knight. As it was, she assumed a pensive look though, knowing naught but to follow Aamon down his train of thought. She enjoyed that he asked so many questions; it made her feel freer to indulge in hers.

"Well, I guess we should stick together if we do and look civilized enough to maybe reason with them. That would be blessedly easy. But if it doesn't work-" here her brow furrowed at the great folly of the criminal justice system. "-then I suppose we'll have to fight or flee, correct?" If anyone had a better plan she was all ears. As it was, though, there did not appear to be too many options, so...

Her eyes travelled curiously to Kaleb's back, wondering what input he would have as to the hypothetical situation.