Long before the mission began, Aaron had told Nastya and Annomyn to prepare for battle.
Baldur's Gate was so chaotic that its Lower City was a criminal's paradise at any hour. The Flaming Fist mercenaries had limited manpower. They punished criminals, but turned a blind eye to street fights and anything that skirted the law. Sometimes, they even joined in.
And Baldur's Gate guaranteed "freedom of association." Everyone came prepared to turn hostile if negotiations fell through.
In the underground hall, the black-robed man in the skull mask gave his command. The Bhaalists behind him immediately unleashed crossbow bolts and short swords at Aaron's group, punctuated by shouted incantations. Two Bhaalists stationed themselves at the door to cut off their escape.
The black-robed leader let out a shriek. Thick, heavy air surged outward, reeking of incense and scorched corpses. A low, hoarse howl rose from the depths of the soul, like a distant tornado. Every part of it spoke of a thirst for blood and slaughter.
Darkness!
Another Bhaalist tore open a scroll, and a mass of black mist engulfed Aaron and his two companions.
Annomyn's eyes widened. The Daemon Prince immediately reacted to the surrounding darkness, but no matter how wide he opened his eyes, he could see nothing within it. It felt like standing in a sandstorm, unable to see his hand before his face. Heavy, stagnant darkness pressed down on him, and he could barely make out the blurred figures creeping toward him.
Faint glimmers flickered ahead. Something was coming to kill him!
"Annomyn, transform!" Aaron's shout suddenly jolted the Daemon Prince awake. "Move!"
Before Annomyn could transform, the killing might of the Chaos Domain blazed across the hall. Aaron pressed both hands to his waist, and the blood-red Eight-Pillar Emblem on his belt shone first!
**Bloodthirster