The morning sun does not rise in the fog that coats the blighted village. The thick haze merely illuminates as the sky grows brighter.

Bex sits next to me. She's fixing the fletching on one of her arrows. Gut string pulled taut as she wraps it with nimble fingers, securing the fletching to the wooden shaft. We're perched on the roof of the apothecary, overlooking the stone gate to the southern trail that leads to the Grove.

She looks around, listening to the silence of the morning.

"Isn't this place supposed to be crawling with goblins?"

"Yes."

"Where are they? Did you send them away?"

"No, I did not."

She looks around once more. "Do you know where they've gone?"

"No."

She sniffs at me, frustrated with my short answers.

I can’t hold back my devilish grin.

"Do you know why they're gone?"

I look down at her, breaking my focus from the gate. "Because I am here."

She nods subtly and wraps the gut string a few more times before setting it down again. "You know. I always thought fear was kicking, screaming, and crying. But that is panic."

Her tail flicks ever so slightly.

"You've shown me that fear is silence."

I lean forward, feet hanging off the edge of the roof. "I want to apologize for holding that druid before you, during the coup. For making you make that decision in that moment."

She doesn't answer right away, instead focusing on her hands. "It was more than what I deserved, but it was a very... tense day." She says it with a quiet laugh. "An understatement."

"The coup itself was a bit of a spectacle, wasn't it. It got messy. I hope you don't hold it against me."

She wraps the arrowhead before tucking the string and biting it loose. "Danis and I have witnessed atrocities I dare not repeat, lest I spoil my good mood." She tucks the arrow back into her quiver.

"What were the options? Let the Rite be finished? Try to talk Kagha out of it? Kill the Shadow Druids and leave the rot to fester? Or worse, politely banish them so they can bring an army down on the redoubt later. No."

She shakes her head and pulls another arrow.

"Your solution worked the first time."

"You've been thinking about this a lot."

She breathes another laugh. "I don't need to brood on ideas that simple." She leans into me. "Dramatically beheading Olodon with a golden axe was a bit dramatic, though."

"It was necessary." I murmur, "It wasn't a spectacle. It was a threat. I need them to remember what I’m capable of, to be haunted by it. Mercy may be the first layer of order, but fear is the second."

"Are there more layers to it?"

"Yes."

"...and?"

"...Bex..."

There is movement at the gate, and I get to my feet. Apikusis and Aelar brought Rath, as I asked.

My whistle cuts the silent air, and they look up to see us.

They push Rath to his knees, and his eyes fixed on the stone road beneath him.

My voice cuts through the quiet of the fog. "Rath. I understand you've been undercutting me."

He stammers. "No, I-I haven't been..."

Apikusis pulls the original inventory from her pocket, and Rath closes his eyes, turning his head.

"Look at it, Rath. Is this why you refused to send me a proper inventory? So that I couldn't track your deception?"

He mutters. "I just thought-"

"Do you remember what I told you would happen the next time you crossed me?"

He flexes his hand, the nub where his finger used to be, a relentless reminder. "Yes." His feeble voice barely gets the word out.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

He doesn't answer.

I look to Apikusis. "Pin his hand to the road. Aelar, did you bring your axe?"

"Of course." He pulls Fezzerk's axe from the new ornate holster on his back.

Apikusis pulls Rath's hand forward, and plants her foot on his forearm, keeping him in place.

I see his breath grow heavy and he twists his wrist but remains pinned. "Please... I will do it right. I didn't mean any harm. I just-"

I give the nod.

Aelar brings the axe down and I snap as Rath cries out.

Purple runes illuminate him.

He blinks, disoriented, and looks up. The axe is a hair's breadth from his hand and Aelar is frozen, mid-swing.

Bex presses into me and I slip my hand around her waist. We glide from the rooftop and touch ground in front of him.

I look down. He's still pinned by Apikusis.

"You are a relic of a failed system." My tone is measured. "Systems that don't bend will break. Your stubbornness is a liability."

I lean down. "This is the last time I will grant you mercy."

Apikusis releases him and he pulls back.

I snap again. The edge of Aelar's axe hits the stone next to him, shooting sparks from the strike.

Rath yelps and grips his wrist. He looks up at me, mouth agape, finally meeting my eye.

"That is all."

He slowly climbs to his feet and Aelar steps aside. Rath looks at him, head low, before stumbling back down the trail.

Aelar watches him disappear into the fog and grunts. "Mercy, indeed."

Bex takes a deep sigh, placing a hand on my arm.

"My trust in Rath is eroding," I murmur, "if he keeps this up, he will need to be replaced."

Bex scoffs, her tail flicking mindfully. "I’d expect nothing less from someone who sided with Kagha."

Apikusis pulls a letter from her cloak and hands it to me. "Speaking of which, did you find Kagha on the Risen Road?"

I take the note. "In all honesty, I forgot about her. I've had more important things to attend to." I look at the letter and mutter. "Maybe she got eaten by gnolls, who knows."

"Mmm. They're putting pressure on her. I anticipate what Gustav has to report." I hand Bex the note and glance at Aelar. "Have you worked with Zevlor in fortifying the redoubt? Have any of the refugees volunteered as wardens?"

"Yes on both accounts. Honestly, it's been a pleasure to work with Zevlor. Refreshing to work with a man who understands proper defense strategies. A goblin horde, even an organized one, won't be an issue."

"Our priority is protecting the river front, which was always a necessity," Bex says, "and manning the gate with more than just five refugees with splintered crossbows. Dammon has been providing what he can, but has Arron been able to find an arms dealer that can supplement our arsenal?"

Something stirs as I listen to Bex quietly bolster my militia.

Apikusis slightly raises a hand. "I've been helping Arron on that front. We have a contact, but... there's a problem."

My tail twitches pensively. "A problem?"

"Not necessarily a difficulty, more a question on whether we want to deal with this particular trader."

"And who is this problematic arms dealer?"

"The Zhentarim."

My brow creases as the name lands bluntly. "I'm not sure I'm familiar with them."

"Black market traders. I've heard rumors they deal in almost anything, including slavery."

"That's how it goes, isn't it? Tymora's tits..." I take a deep exhale through my nose. "It is what it is. We'll just have to handle it with kid gloves. Begin negotiations, let's see what they're asking for, and what they can offer in return."

I feel a hand press into my sleeve. "Vash."

She presses her lips, as the idea turns over in her mind. She slowly pulls her hand back, and the tension in her face softens. She turns to Apikusis. "I suppose it must be done. But let's focus on Rath's ambivalence. We need to organize a small council. The roles already exist; they just need to coordinate. Master of Coin: Arron, Dockwarden: Derrok, The Wardens: Aelar of course." She glances at him and he gives a gracious nod.

We see a shape move through the fog at the gate to the village. "Apologies. I was just handling a small kerfuffle at one of Hembry's sermons." Emila slides whisper quiet over the cobbled street, but she seems to struggle slightly. "Ugh, I've always had a hard time gaining traction on stone." The muscles in her body push her forward, though she is slowed.

"A kerfuffle, you say?" I can't help but grin. "About what?"

"Whether Hembry's rhetoric regarding the Peace Bringer was overshadowing the will of Silvanus. It's been dealt with, though."

I grunt. "Sounds quite dramatic."

"What's this I hear about a small council?"

Bex chuckles lightly. "We were just organizing the roles. I'm glad you're here, though. Given your current duties, I assumed giving you a proper title might help solidify your authority. How do you feel about being the Ambassador for the Emerald Grove? It's something you and Apikusis can share, given the reach we'll be needing."

Apikusis rolls her eyes. "More paperwork." She resigns herself to the burden. "I'll accept the role for now, while we're building everything out. Keep in mind, my spy network is my top priority. It is far more valuable."

"Agreed, the network you've curated is singular. We can't afford to lose it."

Apikusis sighs wistfully. "That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me."

Emila coils herself next to Aelar with a wry smile. "A title to what I've already been busy with. Only seems fair."

"You're owed as much." I match her smile. "With that being said, first delivery is owed today. When can it be expected?"

"You should have supplies by noon. They've already packed the provisions for you. I think you're going to enjoy what they've provided for you." There is something behind Emila's smile that seems out of place.

I tip my head all the same. "I am grateful, Emila. Thank you."

We make our way back to camp and Bex threads her arm through mine. The soft sound of her arrows clack as we walk along the well-worn dirt path.

She's quiet, and my curiosity finally tips over. "Your understanding of governance is impressive. Where does that come from?"

She pulls memories from a tender place in her mind.

"My father-In-law." I feel her grip tighten. "Danis is a high elf. Was a high elf."

Her brow creases before continuing.

"Danis's father was a Civic Secretary. He trained me to work within the city's administration. But it wasn't the life for me. Ultimately, his father agreed to help finance the bakery."

She laughs softly. "It seemed appropriate. Danis worked for my father for three days. I worked for his for three years."

Her lips turn inward and she clears her throat.

"I always felt there was something off with Thuvius Kreeg. But I didn't connect the dots before the city fell." Her throat crackles as she holds herself back. "...None of them made it. None of them even saw Avernus."

She glances up at me, a subtle pool edging her eye, but her voice is steady. "A mercy."

"Bex." I place my hand on hers and hesitate. "Is being my lieutenant something you truly want? You've stepped into a role that you've already rejected once."

"Yes, Vash." She says. "If I didn't want this, I promise, I wouldn't be here. Being with you, I'm not playing with a long-standing political climate. We are building the government from the ground up. It's better this way."

I gently pat her hand and focus on the path. The sound of the river trailing alongside us has a calming babble to it. A songbird titters happily through the haze.

"I wanted to ask you." She says, softly, thoughtfully. "What is the nature of your oath?"

I stiffen and a charge runs through me.

"The coup alone would have broken any paladin's oath. Even if it were for a greater cause. Yet your oath remains intact. How is that possible?"

I feel her eyes on me. "I..." My mind is racing. "My oath..." My tail lashes. "...it is... a unique conviction. But necessary in times such as this."

I finally glance down at her. Her dark infernal eyes locked onto me. I sigh and try to reclaim myself. "My oath is to maintain order. It is not moral as much as it is procedural. Which is a mercy to me, given how difficult it can be to manage people when they are so gods-damned messy." I say wrinkling my nose.

She laughs quietly. "That is true. I see the threads of influence that want to pull people in wayward directions. Weaving those threads into order is not something anyone can do. Nor should it be. It's as you said, there are good people and there are true leaders."

She drags her fingers down my arm. "Was your oath something you had before you lost your memory?"

I close my eyes, mulling the idea over in my head. "Yes. It was a role I was raised to fill."

"Raised to fill? Were you part of a holy order?"

A subtle smile creases my cheeks. These questions... "Yes, though most of it is still lost to me. From what I was able to recall, I was just another boy raised to act on the whims of some higher power."

She leans her head against my arm as we walk. I feel a gripping in my chest. The whispers hiss in my ears. The anticipation of cruel whispers leaves me anxious, but nothing cogent comes forward. Despite it all, I allow myself to gently curl my tail around hers.

She smiles, flexing her tail, as if practicing the motion.

Charming.

As Bex and I near the camp, I see a pulsing red light flash toward me through the fog. I hold up my hand to block it, but it stops short of striking me. It hovers neatly above my defending hand.

The prism.

...The damned bitch could have been less aggressive.

We break through the haze to find Shadowheart and Danis waiting for us. Faces looking understandably stunned at the spectacle.

Bex smiles and approaches Danis. "Good morning, Darling." She gives him a tender kiss on the cheek.

He slowly softens, putting his hands on her waist, looking at her. He doesn't speak, but smiles, before returning the kiss.

Shadowheart is eyeing the prism above my hand. I grasp it and tuck it into my cloak pocket. "I had a visit from the dream guardian last night."

Shadowheart subtly reaches out her hand, before pulling back. I didn't expect this would be easy for her. I put my hand on her back and we walk to the campfire. Astarion, Lae'zel, and Gale are sitting by the flames. "It was decided that I will be holding onto the prism going forward."

Astarion snorts and looks across everyone before grabbing his stool and returning to his tent.

Shadowheart's discontent is palpable.

"Apologies, Shadowheart. It was not my intention to undermine you, but this is for the best."

She nods quietly. "Of course." She opens her mouth, as if to say more, but slowly closes it again, staring at my pocket.

At that moment Gustav lands on my shoulder, chirping confidently.

I quickly tap my ear, only to catch him midsentence.

"...has been particularly spectacular to watch!"

"Hold on Gustav, I didn't hear what you said."

"What? Oh, for the love of- look here Boss." He ruffles his feathers and gives a little hop. I hold out my finger and he jumps on, facing me.

I straighten my lips. "Apologies. I don't always remember to cast the spell every morning."

I've never heard a songbird sigh so deeply. "Well, the important facts are this. Your legend is being gobbled up by the... goblins. You've got quite a few praising your name, but we've got two problems."

I nod at him. "Go ahead."

"Problem number one. Some goblins are starting to see you as competition with the Absolute. They're not taking it lightly.

Problem number two. Minthara knows. But she doesn't know who 'Boss' is. It's making her paranoid. Her attention has been split between The Boss and that 'weapon' they won't stop harping on about. As I said, her spiral has been spectacular to watch."

"She's rattled. Has she mentioned the grove at all?"

"On occasion, more than anything she asks about you. The information she has is that you've unilaterally conquered the druids. She's expecting you back with a full report. Ragzlin is angry. He feels like your conquest has undercut his raids."

"Tell the Booyagh to let the Nightwarden know I will be returning in a few days."

"I'll give her the message!"

Too many ticking clocks. Everything is too loud.

"Thank you, Gustav."

He hops and waggles his tail feathers. "Heh. No problem, Boss."

With nimble wings he flutters away, cackling.

At least I have a clearer understanding of Minthara's expectations.

Bex and Danis settle on a fallen log near the fire. Gale hands Bex her and my breakfast. I walk over and she passes me my plate. "Thank you, Bex. Thank you, Gale."

He grunts, not meeting my eye.

I take a bite of the toast before glancing down at Bex. "Gustav seems to have given me the chance to stave off Minthara for now. Aelar and Zevlor will be glad to hear it."

She nods, quickly downing an egg. "I heard you mention she's rattled?" She says in a muffled voice, before licking her fingers.

She is a creature.

"It seems The Boss is causing quite the kerfuffle."

She snorts, choking on her food. "Va-ash..." She coughs. "You can't do that to me." She pounds her chest. "Kerfuffle..." Danis hands her his tea and she sips, wiping a tear from her eye.

I am pleased with my attempted murder.

I chuckle with my mouthful. We finish our breakfast and I head back to my tent. I drape my cloak over my cot and snap the arcane lock off my chest. I flip open the lid. The Necromancy of Thay. My stomach turning as I look at it. I sink into my chair, placing it on the table.

The camp hums in the distance. I can feel Withers hovering somewhere behind my tent, and my hair stands on end. He seems to come and go as he pleases but is ever present. I center myself, tapping one claw on the cover of the book, anticipating the wretched sensations I'm about to inflict on myself.

I close my eyes and feel the tingling in the back of my throat. The weave stretches thin and a surge of voices charge into my mind.

I grip my head as I feel my shattered soul rend in two as it had before, though the divide feels deeper and the smaller half of my soul is growing louder, when before it was merely a whisper.

The tadpole squirms, disturbed by the acrid power in the air.

Finally, a shade rises from the ground before me. Howling whispers follow his presence.

I begin with my first question. "What can you tell me about Deathstalker sacrifice rituals?"

A rasping breath pulls from the shade. It pauses, wavering ominously. "Deathstalkers must perform a sacrifice every tenday..."

"Yes yes, I know." My voice is sharp and impatient.

"Victims are chosen from circumstance and stalked before the day of sacrifice. When that day comes, criteria must be met to honor Bhaal in true."

A sharp pain shoots through me as the shade speaks Father's name.

"The victim must be human-like. A meditation must prelude the kill. Others must stand vigil and witness. The killing must be quick, and not indulgent. The blood must be touched by the skin of the assassin, and they must be still. The kill must be tallied but never named. The sacrifice must be abandoned without celebration. It must remain an inevitability, not a victory."

The ragged breath pulls once again, as the shade flickers.

The familiarity rings in my mind, as the ritual clicks together.

Nausea begins to collect in the pit of my stomach as I ask my second question.

"What can you tell me... about Ketheric Thorm."

My stomach turns as the Shade pauses.

"Ketheric Thorm is a Paladin of Selûne." The shade speaks with pointed mockery. "His rule is merciful, and he is much beloved."

That isn't right. A Selûnite? Shovel told us he was leading a faction of Dark Justiciar. The ones that killed Ilyn Toth.

...old socks and broken oaths...

"He resides in a fortress named Moonrise Towers, located in Reithwin Town, along the shores of the river Chionthar. Rumors say his wife, Melodia Thorm, has recently passed, and he has become withdrawn. His daughter, Isobel Thorm, remains and keeps the court held together during their time of grief."

His daughter. With luck I can parley with her once we get there.

The shade falls silent once again. Its flickering becomes more disruptive. Once again, my time runs short, and I quickly force out my final question.

"Who... is... Vash... Neel?" I grunt out the words, barely able to stomach my own speech.

Another pause. The silence stretches far longer than I'm comfortable with, and I track it with anticipation. I finally hear the ragged voice once more.

"No one."

It vanishes in a flick, and the nausea that had been building up inside finally overwhelms me. I fall to the ground and vomit. The heaving cramps every part of me as my body tries in vain to cleanse me of the necrotic taint.

Once finished, I sit back and wipe my mouth, hand trembling. I don't feel like I can catch my breath, my chest convulses once more, but I'm able to collect myself. The words echoing in my mind.

No one.

"Shovel!"

I only have to wait a moment before hearing the pitter-patter of little fiend feet. She climbs under the wall of the tent, ignoring my, apparently unnecessary, door.

"Master Neely!" She croaks. She has a tuft of Scratch's hair in her claws.

"What in Bhaal's name did you do to Scratch?" I wince at the slip.

"Huh? Nothing! He is good stead." She says proudly.

I'll have to check on him later...

I point at the mess on the ground.

"YEAAAHH!" She dives in and begins to eat.

I lock away the Necromancy of Thay and walk over to a chest at the foot of my cot. It's smaller and kept for my personal needs. I crack it open and pull out a bottle of mead, pouring myself a glass and taking a generous sip. The alcohol burns my raw throat in a most deserving way. My stomach settles well enough, and my mind begins to run.

I must pick someone. I must watch them. And when the kill comes... I must be witnessed.

I have five days to figure this out, and after that the clock restarts. I have to do this every tenday. I must have truly been no one. This paradigm does not foster close attachments.

But I am. Attached. Only now truly understanding the ramifications. I made the foolish mistake of assuming I had the same rights as anyone else.

I was avoiding the truth.

That I am a slave.

...Would I have had a chance to be free if I hadn't sworn my Oath?

No.

I am a Bhaalspawn. A Deathstalker. The Oath is irrelevant.

I take another sip of mead, staring at the blank wall of my tent.

No one.

Irrelevant.

...Alone.

How fucking embarrassing.