[C=Purple]An Inquiry of Persons on the Coast
and Their Associations with the Drow.
Volume IV.
Published in Hammer, Year of the Bow, 1354 DR.
Case Two - Kirias & 'Friend'.[/color]
When I concluded my business with the Flaming Fist on the 8th of Eleint, Year of the Arch, 1354 DR, I never honestly expected to see the black devil again despite Jane Price's request to utilise, if not outright raise from the dead, her for whatever secret society she is truly a part of. Unfortunately, that expectation was subsequently annihilated, the details of which are as follows.
It was just slightly more than two tendays after the events of the 8th of Eleint, being the 29th of Eleint. After taking a routine patrol from Baldur's Gate south to the Friendly Arm Inn, I decided, somewhat spur-of-the-moment, to divert from my initial plan to continue south to Beregost and instead pressed into the Woods of Sharp Teeth to check that the local orc population was still being kept in submission.
When I entered the woods at dusk I met with none of its usual denizens, but as I rounded a gully and emerged into a clearing I saw two figures from the distance, standing and talking. One was very clearly an elf, decked out in his clerical raiment and looking quite well to do. The other was dressed in black, face covered over with mask and cowl, but I could discern from her figure and voice that this was a female.
They both turned instinctively at my approach, just as I instinctively sent my hand to the handle of my mace. One can never be certain what one will encounter in that aptly-named forest, and this was certainly no exception to that.
"Be at peace; the orcs are all you will need that mace for in these woods," the male elf said, clearly noticing that I was on edge. His companion seemed less sure of herself, shifting and fidgeting and constantly looking at the male, as if for reassurance. He responded to her non-verbal cues by placing his hand on her shoulder.
"If you get overwhelmed, just scream loudly. I will come pull you out of their grasp," the masked one said. Her voice was strangely familiar. It was the same that I had encountered pleading surrender on the Lion's way some two tendays before.
The male elf laughed. "Like you did for me, hmm? These are different orcs."
She looked back at him. "These ones are noticeably easier to deal with."
"Indeed. Perhaps wear your holy symbol outside your armour for now," he asked her.
"Me?" she seemed doubtful. He nodded and she took it out from its concealed place about her neck. I could not make out the symbol from where I was, not to mention it was night and the shadows in the forest were long and many, but I did notice its metallic glint when she turned.
"And whom might I be so kind as to thank for the warning of the dangers that lurk in this forest?" I asked them in an appreciative tone.
"Kirias, Cor'Faernsuor of Dharasha priest of Corellon," he answered with a smile.
"And your friend?" I asked, looking at the masked one.
She immediately leaned over and whispered hushedly with Kirias. "If you wish..." he said aloud as an answer to whatever the question was.
She sighed, nodded, looked at me and said, "From what I'm told it's Israe'anna."
"Interesting," I immediately replied, because that was a revelation I was not expecting. Here I was thinking that the Flaming Fist had done the right thing by the elf (whose name is still unknown to me) whom had delivered the drow's corpse over to Captain Norton with the express intention that sympathisers would be a non-issue. Here, now, right before my eyes, was the evidence that that trust had been breached.
"Why do you say that?" Israe'anna immediately asked me.
"Indeed? And who are you?" Kirias concurred with her.
I ignored their plea for identification and replied with my own question. "You needed to be told what your own name was?" I asked her.
She shifted, rubbing her hood and nodded in answer. "I apparently experienced death, and from what I understand I should have been with the faithless. However, I was resurrected for some reason; I do not fully understand it."
Kirias rested his hand on her arm and interrupted, "It's okay, but you don't need to tell everyone every time they ask."
She continued anyway. "Regardless, I worshipped something I shouldn't have been worshipping and was given a second chance. I don't know who or what it was, but my memory is a mess. What I do remember is confusing, and there are large chunks of memory that is just gone."
Kirias interrupted her again at that point, redirecting the conversation in my direction. "You still have yet to identify yourself. Who are you?" he asked me the second time.
"It is impolite to interrupt, don't you know?" I answered, rather more keen to let Israe'anna spill what she knew of her own demise.
"Come then, perhaps we should continue your lessons elsewhere," he turned and said to her.
"If neither of you know my name, perhaps it is best forgotten. I have a feeling, however, that is not the case," I answered, apparently erroneously expecting them to have known that I was one of those who had hunted Israe'anna down and seen to it that she were delivered over to the Flaming Fist.
She asked him, "Have you met her before?"
"If I have, I've not been introduced," he answered her. "If you don't wish to be addressed by your name, or offer it, you should not ask it of others mi'lady," he then answered me.
"Let me just say this, as one dedicated to the safety of the people," I answered them, again ignoring the third plea for identification. "Using a name like Israe'anna is only going to get you killed. Again. Whoever told you that was your name clearly did not think it through."
"Really?" she replied, shocked and clearly on edge at the revelation.
"Be calm," he tried to quell her growing dismay, but I was not done.
"Rather unfortunate that your friend here believes that is you," I continued, motioning at Kirias, "for if it was I would smite you where you stand." Of course, I knew it was Israe'anna, but I now had the damning evidence I needed. I was not willing at the time to dismiss my tactical advantage of knowledge. Furthermore, it was a case of two elves against myself if I decided to press my attack. It was far better, in my judgement, to let this one pass because its revelation alone would do far, far more in highlighting the perversity of drow collaboration in this region, and elves no less, than killing, or being killed by, Israe'anna and her allies ever would.
"But I'm not going to do that because I believe he has mistaken you for someone else," I lied, again not wanting to give him advantage because I knew he was not mistaken in her identity, "a vile criminal hated everywhere the light shines." That part was true. This was Israe'anna, alive again to torment the Coast with her violence.
"Are you quite finished?" he snapped back at me.
"Is your ignorance?" I asked in return, for clearly that was not the case. He knew who she was. He knew she was drow. Why else the face covering, the defensiveness, the secrecy?
"We have business, and unfortunately you've interrupted and I've yet to hear a cause or your name," he said, a vain attempt to worm his way out of the impending predicament. "Is this how the faithful of Helm conduct themselves?" he said, obviously identifying the symbol upon my breastplate then. But now was the time to drive the dagger of treason further inside, for I had caught an elf with a drow and he knew it.
"Pryat Mae yr Machshikhah," I now identified myself fully. "I assisted the elf who finally brought Israe'anna's crimes to their end. And yes, it is," I commented about my manner of conduct. "Unlike some of your kind, we actually value the truth."
"Then you've got no business left here, since, as you say, you brought that other business to an end."
"I implied that quite some time ago, but you were the one continuing to ask questions," I retorted.
"This could not be the other you speak of," he now brazenly lied to my face. But it was too late. I already knew. He could not now change his story at the end.
"Quite," I concluded, ready to resume my patrol. "It would be quite a large furore if the Flaming Fist came to understand that their most hated criminal was once again alive and roaming under the light of the sun and moon."
Case Two: Observations & Implications
Most of this case reads for itself. An elf giving the drow Israe'anna lessons and conduction business deep in the Sharp Teeth Woods, away from prying eyes and ears. Or so they thought.
Of course, questions will naturally be asked of me concerning my method of interrogation, but I regret nothing. I am already strung up by the Dukes of this city while they do nothing else than cover their own treachery, making me the scapegoat for their own inquities. Of course the Temple of Helm would disown me, given how they share the same bed as Duke Eltan and likely partake in the same lascivious deeds of drow butt-kissing as he has, given his responsibilty for the Flaming Fist's mishandling of this entire matter.
And of course Lord Darius would string me up as seditious, but did you read between the lines when he asked for this city to "look past differences of race"? What he actually meant, like his pawn paladin Taevemira spoke after him, is that there will soon be a public announcement that good drow exist, and their presence in Baldur's Gate will be tolerated!
I wish all of Baldur's Gate to be united and harmonious. I wish the Dukes to come to their senses and increase taxes on the Thayans and the Zhents and reduce them on Baldurian business, like Darius Holding Company, so that the city will not be indebted to evil. But I will not hide the plain and obvious truth that Baldur's Gate is a city which harbours drow sympathisers and punishes those who expose them.
