In the High Lord's hall in Baldur's Gate, fierce sea winds battered the gold-trimmed glass windows while the flames inside burned quietly. Vast thunderclouds slowly approached the resplendent city. Beneath the clamorous sky, the ink-black sea churned restlessly. A storm was coming, and it would be violent. A few stars glimmered between the layers of cloud. It was as though a black curtain had been drawn over the world.
The lofty Tower of Balduran stood proud amid the sea storm. The winds howled around it, wailing as they tore at the greatest legacy the navigator Balduran had left to Baldur's Gate-the massive walls built around the tower. Those walls were so extraordinary that they had continued to protect Baldur's Gate throughout the countless years since Balduran's disappearance.
At the top of the High Lord's hall, a figure still gazed at the splendor of Baldur's Gate. His gaze swept across the Upper City, where every inch of land was worth a fortune, and the endlessly vibrant Lower City. Be'lakor, under the alias Takkus, regarded Baldur's Gate in rare silence.
He smiled faintly.
The High Lord's hall had the most comprehensive defenses and the strongest walls. He wore the most luxurious silk robes imported from Soaring Dragon in Kara-Tur. They now called him acting commander of the Flaming Fist. Time and again, he had defeated the Skaven Clanrats and spared the city from the Rat Plague. He was a powerful Quasi-Deity, stronger than any living mortal. The Chaos Gods had given him one final chance to spread fear and death.
Although the Chaos Gods had given Be'lakor another life, he would not thank them. He saw no reason to do so. Be'lakor had known from very early on that his existence was nothing but a black comedy in the eyes of the