Forming an Adventuring Party

PS: I thought it over and decided to turn my frustration into fuel and write another update!

In August of 1360 by the Dalelands calendar, a secret letter from Marlon, leader of the Dragon's Tooth Gang, reached the Sallyan Residence through a covert channel.

Outside, daylight blazed. The scorching sun beat down like fire, the air smelled burnt, and a sharp divide of light and shadow separated the outdoors from the house.

So hot! Suzail, on the shores of the Dragonmere, was an oven in midsummer. Wealthy nobles had fled to the countryside to escape the heat, but Aaron had to stay and continue his military training and magic lessons.

Then word finally came from the Dragon's Tooth Gang.

During a smuggling deal, Marlon had learned that the Hobgoblin leader involved in the attack on Aaron had established a camp in the King's Forest. He was now in contact with the Zhentarim, apparently plotting something.

The Hobgoblin leader was named Adan Heavyhammer. He commanded a warband of more than a hundred Goblins, Bugbears, Hobgoblins, and Ogres.

The news immediately caught Aaron's attention.

Marlon wrote that they had not spotted the Warlock. But since the Warlock had led the attack, Aaron believed he was involved.

Marlon also mentioned that the Zhentarim appeared to be searching for a Godspawn. They had posted a reward of 5,000 Golden Lions.

No one had to capture the Godspawn or provide an exact location. A genuine lead alone would earn 5,000 Golden Lions!

They're that rich? I might as well turn myself in, Aaron thought.

But when Aaron saw that the Zhentarim were searching for a Godspawn of Bane, god of tyranny, rather than Baal, Lord of Murder, a cold sweat broke out over the Viscount.

A suspicion he had long kept to himself had finally been confirmed!

The attack that day had not been a coincidence. The Warlock had been searching Cormyr for a Godspawn. Aaron had happened to awaken Slaanesh's power after killing someone for the first time, leading the Warlock to mistake him for a Godspawn and attack him.

But Marlon's information showed that the Zhentarim wanted Bane's Godspawn, not Baal's.

The answer was obvious: the Warlock Mepham and the Zhentarim were not working together at all! They had separate targets!

A Godspawn was hidden in Cormyr! A Godspawn of Bane, god of tyranny!

Aaron took out a pen and began scribbling on a sheet of parchment.

He wrote his own name near the bottom. In the upper left, he wrote Dark Sun Prince Cyric and Warlock Mepham. In the upper right, he wrote Bane, god of tyranny, Godspawn, and Zhentarim.

He knew little about the Realms, but he had read about Baldur's Gate and played part of the game!

Before the Time of Troubles, the famous Dead Three had each foreseen the possibility of their downfall. Myrkul, the Bone Lord, had paid it little mind. As god of the dead, he believed all the dead would, in theory, fall under his rule, so he thought he could escape death!

As it turned out, even Deities could fall!

The other two, Bane, god of tyranny, and Baal, Lord of Murder, had set their plans in motion early. They repeatedly sent avatars into the mortal world to find partners and have children. Humans, Elves, Orcs, Dwarves, Halflings, Gnomes, even Tieflings—those two Deities turned no one away. They left behind many Godspawn, each bearing a trace of their divinity.

The two Deities hoped to create a vast supply of "spares" against any disaster.

The prophecy proved true. Both Bane and Baal fell during the Time of Troubles, and the many Godspawn they left behind became their best replacements.

But the plan had a flaw. Once the Deities fell, the Godspawn they had controlled broke free and began to awaken and act on their own. Their divinity gradually drove them into a last-one-standing bloodbath. Supposedly, the victor could become the new god of tyranny or Lord of Murder.

Dark Sun Prince Cyric, who had inherited all the divine portfolios of the Dead Three, also realized that his hold on their power was unstable. He sent his followers to hunt the Godspawn.

Likewise, Bane's loyalists within the Zhentarim, faithful servants to the end, were searching for a Godspawn to bring back their god of tyranny!

Damn it! Aaron slammed his fist into the armrest of his chair!

He had been dragged into this through no fault of his own!

He carried Divine Sparks from the Chaos Gods. Cyric's followers and Bane's followers had taken those faint sparks as proof that he was a Godspawn. Both sides thought Aaron was one!

Dark Sun Prince Cyric had surely marked him and was waiting for a chance to kill him.

Bane's Godspawn, hidden in Cormyr, had already infiltrated Suzail's nobility. He, too, meant to eliminate Aaron and seize his divinity.

Aaron had not even done anything, yet he had already attracted two immensely powerful enemies.

Before the Time of Troubles, Dark Sun Prince Cyric had been a mere mortal. But he had recovered the Tablets of Fate, won the favor of Ao, god above gods, and ascended to divinity. His portfolios spanned chaos, lies, deception, betrayal, and every domain of the Dead Three. He was practically the mightiest god beneath Ao!

The Lady of Silver, Selûne, had told Aaron that even she, one of the oldest goddesses, could not face Cyric's might head-on.

On the other side stood the Zhentarim, an evil organization notorious throughout the Realms. They were powerful, far-reaching, and wealthy; they surely had at least a few legendary figures among them. Bane's Godspawn had awakened two years before Aaron. His exact strength was unknown, but he was certainly stronger!

Aaron set down his quill and gave a bitter smile.

You've got the wrong man! I'm not a Godspawn of the Dead Three!

But how could he prove it? Present himself to them for an "inspection"?

Impossible. He could not afford such fantasies. If he were dealing with the lawful-good Three Gods of Justice, bound by countless rules and good by nature, submitting to an "inspection" might have given him a chance. But he faced lawful-evil Bane and Chaotic Evil Cyric!

Besides, Aaron himself was not entirely confident. The Chaos Gods overlapped with the Dead Three in many ways. The strife and conflict Bane embodied were fundamental to Chaos, while Khorne was strikingly close to Baal, Lord of Murder.

Even if he let the Three Gods of Justice "inspect" him, they might dispense "justice" on the spot!

That settles it! I'm going adventuring!

Aaron struck the armrest again. The Viscount gritted his teeth and swung his arm fiercely.

Cyric's side was relatively simple. Because of their Chaotic Evil nature, members of Cyric's Church rarely shared intelligence. If Aaron eliminated the Warlock, he would be safe for the time being. From what he knew of Baldur's Gate, Godspawn were hardly rare, and hunting them was not Cyric's chief priority.

Bane's Godspawn was the real problem. Aaron needed to find a way to flush him out of Suzail.

The good news was that the Godspawn had tried once and failed. Aaron had since joined the Purple Dragons, so his enemy probably would not dare make another rash move.

For now, then, the goal was to assemble a party, take down Adan Heavyhammer—the Hobgoblin working with the Warlock—learn where the Warlock was, and deal with him!

But who should he recruit?

With that thought, Aaron rose at once.

On the shores of the Dragonmere stood Caladnei Manor. Within it was the villa belonging to the young Sorcerer lady, where Aaron took his magic lessons.

Her graceful dress swayed as she turned, her light movements as elegant and captivating as an Elf in autumn.

The young Sorcerer lady stood on a ladder leafing through books. She wore a demure, ice-silk gray dress that hugged her hips and a pair of honey-gold, ultra-sheer spider-silk tights. Her breathtakingly long legs were on display: slender thighs, straight calves, and delicate toes raised slightly to reveal dainty ankles and the soles of her feet through a gauzy veil. Pink hair spilled over her shoulders to her waist.

Most Sorcerers liked to wear their hair loose and unadorned. Power came to them at birth; they had no need for decoration!

"If you can control your power, it simply isn't strong enough."

—A legendary Wild Magic Sorcerer whose casual Cloud of Daggers had turned into Meteor Swarm and wiped out an entire group of enemies.

Charlotte naturally noticed Aaron's arrival. Without looking back, she said, "Aaron? That's odd. Isn't it Sunday? Why aren't you at the Church of the Moon Maiden instead of visiting your big sister?"

Charlotte always acted like a mischievous older sister around Aaron, but she was different with everyone else. Her moods shifted constantly, now a gentle breeze, now a raging storm. Only her deep-seated pride and disdain never changed.

That was typical of Sorcerers. Almost none were of good alignment.

"Charlotte!" Aaron had barely looked up before he blurted out, "Haven't I told you not to climb ladders in such short skirts? People can see up them!"

After stealing several lingering glances, the Viscount hurriedly looked away.

Charlotte always climbed straight onto the library ladders to browse books, and she liked skirts that ended above the knee.

It had not been so bad before. But as the weather grew hotter, she had traded her semi-sheer stockings for ultra-sheer, skin-revealing tights with transparent toes. One glance gave Aaron quite the view.

"Oh!" Charlotte finally realized how much she had exposed. She instinctively held down her skirt, a blush spreading across her face. She put down her book, then planted her hands on her hips in annoyance. "You're the only one who dares come straight in, little brother. What do I have to worry about?"

"Even so, you can't..." Aaron folded his arms, righteous indignation on his face. "You can't let your guard down like that, Charlotte!"

"I know, I know~" From her expression, Aaron could tell she had not taken a word to heart. "What brings you here on a Sunday? Missed me? You can visit me on Sundays too, you know!"

She signaled that she was coming down. Aaron hurriedly picked up the crystal lace-up high-heeled sandals lying askew on the floor and set them neatly at the foot of the ladder. Then he reached out both arms to catch her. "Careful, Charlotte!"

"Hee~ With my little brother here, I can relax!" Charlotte let her full weight rest on Aaron and, with his help, slipped on her shoes. "You still haven't told me why you came."

"I need to leave Suzail for a week. Charlotte, I need a favor," Aaron said softly.

Charlotte's pink brows immediately drew together.

An hour later, Aaron emerged from the young lady's manor, having been forced to sign countless "unequal treaties" and agree to innumerable extra conditions.

He had entered empty-handed. Now both hands were full of gift boxes, with even more things strapped to his back.

Charlotte really is popular!

Aaron felt the weight of the presents as the thought crossed his mind.

They were gifts from her admirers, all casually passed on to her little brother: luxury cosmetics, spices, silk from Kara-Tur, perfume, delicacies, and a few rare spellcasting materials.

Aaron stripped off and discarded the wrapping. A quick glance at the rubbish revealed several familiar names. There were pearls from Havrel, the shipping minister's son; fine wine from Purple Dragon Knight Mannakorn Anaheim; and rose perfume from Gordon Marelli, whom Aaron had fought the other day.

Charlotte is so rich! Charlotte is so beautiful!

The greatest gain, of course, was Charlotte's promise to cover for Aaron. With her help, few people would know he had gone adventuring.

Thinking of the "unequal treaties" he had signed, Aaron could not help swallowing.

Was it really worth it?

No choice. I'll just have to make a little sacrifice!

With Charlotte's permission, the spell kit she had prepared for him, and her gifts in hand, Aaron hurried to the Church of the Silver Mother in Suzail.

Yes, he was going to assemble a party for this adventure.

And the first companion he intended to recruit was the young Cleric!

Eleanor, here I come! And I've brought presents!

Eleanor Dinefleur: Level 6 Cleric of Selûne, Twilight Domain

Strength 16, dexterity 10, constitution 16, intelligence 10, charisma 10 (14), wisdom 16

The number in parentheses was Eleanor's charisma when she removed her mask. She usually wore it.

(The end)