Son of Bhaal

The Vault

Jaheira led Bain and Imoen past the heart of the valley, through piles of shattered stone and clinging vines. The companions spent the entire day crossing the ancient Elven city, when they reached its far edge the sun was disappearing beneath the trees, the sky was blood-red, shifting to velvet black.

The beautiful half-elf finally halted before a cracked, arched doorway that led into a small, circular structure with a domed roof. Many of the pale marble tiles that had covered the dome were missing or damaged, the walls not covered in thick vines were blackened and deeply pitted. The scent of death that hung over the city was very strong inside the small structure, Jaheira seemed reluctant to pass through the doorway, Imoen clung to her brother's left arm.

"Is this it?" prodded Bain.

"Aye," nodded Jaheira, her slender body tense, her sharp eyes peering into the darkness beyond the doorway.

"Want me to take over?"

Jaheira stepped away from the building's entrance, Bain took her place, drawing his sword as he approached. Imoen released Bain's arm and readied her own dagger, she impatiently brushed several strands of auburn hair away from her face.

Stone fragments crunched beneath Bain's boots as he carefully entered the domed building. The dark interior of the building was empty of furniture or ornaments of any kind, the smooth walls were lined with wide cracks or marred with deep, jagged indentations. A well plunged deep into the earth in the middle of the chamber, stairs spiraled down into the void.

"Do we have a torch left, Imoen?" asked Bain from the well's lip.

The rogue girl slipped off her pack and rummaged inside. She produced an oil-soaked torch which Jaheira quickly lit with a spark of magical flame. Bain accepted the burning torch before beginning his descent of the stairs, Imoen close behind, Jaheira guarding the rear.

***

The night sky glittered with stars as Sarevok, Xzar, and five warriors marched up to the domed vault entrance. Sarevok motioned for his men to scout out the vault's interior, he waited impatiently, pacing back and forth in front of the doorway, gloved hands clasped behind his armored back.

Xzar swooned from foot to foot, his large, wild eyes closed, his thin mouth smiling while he hummed softly to himself, listening to the call of the Sword of Blood.

The black-armored warriors filed out of the vault, their leader marched up to Sarevok and saluted.

"The vault entrance is empty, my lord," snapped out the squad leader. "Stairs lead down into the vault proper, there are signs that another group entered the vault recently."

Sarevok stopped pacing and stared hard at the warrior, his lips curled into a snarl. "Jaheira."

"Your brother was here as well, and your sweet little sister," sighed Xzar from Sarevok's left.

"They're together, and they know about the sword," murmured Sarevok, his hands clenching into fists.

"You killed Gorion for nothing, destiny proceeds along its proper path," smiled the thin wizard, regarding Sarevok with a dark gaze.

"Enough of your ramblings, you say you hear the sword's song, then lead me to it before my brother reaches it," snapped Sarevok, his hand descending to the silver pommel of his sword.

"My lord," bowed Xzar. The wizard summoned witch's fire in his open right palm, he used it to light his way into the vault, the green radiance creating wild, dancing shadows on the vault's cracked walls.

***

Bain cautiously walked into a long, high-roofed hall. The ceiling was arched and supported by graceful, stone ribs etched with long strings of Elvish script. The writing still glowed with a very faint blue light, illuminating the niches set evenly within both of the hall's long, marble walls. Inside each niche stood the statue of an Elven warrior dressed in ornate Elven chainmail, tall, narrow helms protecting their heads, slender, rune-inscribed swords set point downward before them. The statues' almond-shaped eyes were wide open, they guarded the hall with patient, eternal vigilance.

"There is strong magic in this room, the sword's magic is beyond," said Jaheira from the back.

When Bain reached the middle of the hall, the statues groaned with movement, emerging from their niches, raising stone weapons into the stale air. Bain brandished his sword with both hands after dropping his torch, Imoen pulled out a second dagger for her free hand. The statues slowly marched forward, limbs grinding with every heavy step. When the first statue was in sword range, Bain hacked down, smashing the statue's torso. Another statue took the destroyed one's place, slashing at Bain's chest with its weapon. Imoen stabbed with her daggers, the weapons glanced off of the thick stone skin of her foe. She ducked a sword slash, back-pedaling towards her brother.

"I can't hurt them!" shouted Imoen.

Bain shattered a lunging statue's head. "Run for the exit!"

The trio broke away from the attacking statues and sprinted for the far doorway. More statues emerged from their niches, but Bain and his comrades were too quick, they slipped by the hacking statues and ran down a long, narrow passageway.

***

When one of the scouts reported that the main passage was filled with sword-wielding statues, Sarevok cursed and led his men through a side tunnel and down a short flight of stairs into a wide chamber with a checker-board floor. The warlord's five men spread out to search the room, and promptly fell screaming through holes in the floor, their cries cut off when the revolving tiles snapped shut once more.

"Bhaal's Blood!" cursed Sarevok, his pulse racing from the death of his soldiers.

Xzar swayed his fingers in complex patterns, the witch's fire he had summoned floating just above his right ear. He clapped his hands together, then slowly raised them, palms facing upward. The wizard and Sarevok gently levitated into the air. Xzar floated across the trapped floor, the burly warlord trailing behind him. Reaching the exit doorway, Xzar lowered himself to the dust-cloaked floor of the yawning passage, Sarevok landed close by.

"I'll lead," growled Sarevok, baring his rune-etched, silver blade. Xzar slipped his hands into the wide sleeves of his black robe and smiled smugly as Sarevok pounded down the web-veiled passageway.

***

The vault's main chamber was enormous, as large as a cavern, lined with massive forges and stone work tables. Bain gazed in wonder at the huge bellows pumps, the great fire pits where enchanted steel was shaped into weapons of war. Spaced at intervals along the walls were sets of sealed iron doors. Imoen used her rogue skills to open one vault by the light of a small candle, the chamber was filled with spears and lances, runes of power inscribed upon every one.

"Can you sense which vault holds the Sword of Blood?" asked Bain.

"That one," replied Jaheira, pointing at the iron doors to the far left of the forge.

Bain walked up to the sealed doors with Imoen lighting the way. Jaheira bit her lip, squeezing the hilt of her borrowed dagger. Bain took the flickering candle from Imoen and held it for her as she worked on the portal's massive lock. The mechanism clicked loudly, Imoen grinned and brushed dust off her fingers, getting out of the way so Bain could pull open the heavy vault doors.

Red and white light bathed the faces of the three companions. Bain's eyes widened when he beheld two swords resting in polished, wooden frames inscribed with graceful runes of preservation. The weapon to the right was the Sword of Blood, its blade forged of gleaming, black steel, its razor-edge pulsing with a bright, scarlet light. The sword's twin was made of shining, mirror-like silver, the edge glowed with a soft, pure white radiance, glyphs of enchantment ran from its pearl hilt to the tip.

"Death and Life," breathed Jaheira, her awe-struck face close to Bain's left shoulder.

The unexpected blast blew the three comrades off their feet, hurling them through the air into the far wall with bone-cracking force. Imoen slumped unconscious onto her side, blood flowing from her slashed forehead. Bain staggered to his feet, seeking his attacker. Jaheira stood in a corner, blinking stone dust from her eyes, dread filling her breast.

Sarevok walked confidently into the forge. He sneered at the sight of Bain, but his eyes gleamed with avarice when he noticed the eldritch light pouring from the open vault.

Bain followed his brother's intent gaze. He lurched towards the vault, Sarevok running to intercept him.

Jaheira raised her dagger, she lowered it when she spied Xzar standing in the entrance doorway, five floating missiles of magic lined before him, aimed at her. Xzar wagged his right index finger from side to side, warning Jaheira not to interfere with the brothers.

Bain wrapped his fingers around the Sword of Blood's hilt. The muscled warrior screamed as white-hot agony shot up his right arm. Reflexively, Bain's smoking hand released the sword's obsidian hilt. Strong fingers seized the back of Bain's neck. Bain was roughly pulled back out of the vault, Sarevok threw him aside and dove into the vault to recover the Sword of Blood. Bain unsheathed the sword at his belt as Sarevok emerged from the vault brandishing the Sword of Blood, an expression of cruel rapture upon his face. Bain swung down at his brother, his sword hissing through the air. Sarevok's eyes shifted to Bain, he parried his brother's strike, shattering the ordinary steel weapon without effort.

"Die, brother," smiled Sarevok, slashing across Bain's chest, slicing through thick leather into flesh. Blood splashed over Sarevok's black breastplate, Bain stumbled and fell, his blood soaking through his leather tunic. Grimacing in pain, Bain swung out with his left foot, knocking Sarevok off his feet.

With the crash of his brother's armor echoing in the forge, Bain struggled up and staggered to the sword vault. Sarevok climbed to his feet, his face hot from exertion, the Sword of Blood crying out in his mind for more. Sarevok growled and charged the vault, ready to impale his helpless brother. Sarevok was so intent on murder that he almost ran into the radiant Sword of Life. Sarevok smashed the silver blade down, but Bain slashed up, dragging the silver edge across the black steel. The two weapons screamed as they touched, bright, blinding, white sparks gushed from both blades, the brothers had to squint as they pulled away, circling each other, crouched low with swords held back.

The pain across Bain's chest eased as the wound healed shut. With renewed vigor, Bain stabbed at his brother's stomach, then shifted to Sarevok's right arm. Sarevok couldn't adjust his parry in time, the Sword of Life cut through his armor and slid deep into his arm. The limb shivered violently, Sarevok could barely hold onto the Sword of Blood's hilt. Sarevok swung out with his left fist, smashing Bain's face, the sharp crack of breaking bone resonating in the air. Blood poured from Bain's broken nose, he staggered back, still holding his silver weapon in front of him.

Sarevok switched the Sword of Blood to his left hand, his right arm hung limply at his side, blood dripping from the rent in his armor. The brothers swung at each other again, steel ringing from their crashing weapons, red and white light bathing the walls of the forge, blinding Jaheira and Xzar. Jaheira blinked rapidly and threw her dagger at the wizard. The small blade spun end over end, then slammed into Xzar's right shoulder. The mage howled and clutched his bleeding wound, the missiles he controlled faded away with a sharp pop. Jaheira ran towards the duelling brothers, she dove into Sarevok, driving him to the floor.

"Stop!" shouted the elf woman, holding Sarevok down with her weight, pinning the warlord's left arm to the stone.

"You foolish bitch!" spat Sarevok, struggling to throw the half-elf aside.

Bain gasped for air, crouching as his lungs throbbed in his chest. He didn't have a clear blow at Sarevok, Jaheira was draped over the prone warrior.

"Sarevok! Don't kill your brother!" pleaded Jaheira, her long, violet hair veiling both her face and Sarevok's.

"You betrayed me to be with him! You hold me so he can slay me!" snarled Sarevok, releasing the Sword of Blood and grasping the half-elf's throat with a clawed hand.

"No..that's not true," winced Jaheira, her vision blurring as Sarevok's grasp cut off her air. "Bain! Destroy the Sword of Blood!"

Bain glanced from the choking elf woman to the black sword resting on the floor. The Son of Bhaal raised the Sword of Life with both hands and swung the weapon down with all his might. The silver blade smashed into the obsidian, there was a ringing of broken glass, the Sword of Life's magic blasted into the Sword of Blood. Both weapons flared brightly, Bain was thrown back, he crashed into the floor with a groan. The powerful warrior pushed himself up with both palms, he realized that the Sword of Life was gone. Bain looked over his shoulder quickly, the Sword of Blood was no longer on the floor next to Sarevok, both enchanted weapons had been consumed.

Sarevok's face was frozen in shock. He slowly let go of Jaheira's throat, she coughed painfully, dragging air into her ravenous lungs. The warlord shifted the half-elf off of him so he could sit up. Sarevok flexed his right arm, it had healed enough to move again. Sarevok regarded his panting brother, "I should kill you for what you've done."

"I owe you for Gorion's death," retorted Bain, sliding a dagger from his belt.

A black blade snapped free from Sarevok's right wrist guard, the dark-maned warlord smiled as he rose to his feet, beckoning his brother to attack.

"Stop it! Stop fighting!" howled Jaheira, clutching at Sarevok's left arm.

"Get out of my way, Jaheira, I know you lust for my brother," sneered Sarevok.

"Let me kill this butcher!" yelled Bain.

"Sarevok! Leave Bain alone! I'll go with you!" begged Jaheira, her arms tight around Sarevok's thick, armored limb.

Sarevok lowered his wrist blade, Bain advanced with dagger fisted in his right hand.

"You speak truly?" whispered Sarevok, his dark eyes locked with Jaheira's.

"You don't have to go with him! I'll kill him right here!" exclaimed Bain, tensing his arm to strike.

Jaheira looked over her shoulder and thrust out her open left palm. "Don't attack Sarevok, Bain! Let me talk with him!"

The elf woman raised her eyes back to Sarevok's, she enfolded his gloved hands with hers. "I didn't want the Sword of Blood to possess you. You can be a great leader, you don't have to butcher people."

"Why do you want to go with me? Bain is everything I am not, he is compassionate, he is gentle," murmured Sarevok, laying his forehead against Jaheira's.

"He..he is not for me. He loves his sister more than anything," admitted Jaheira, unable to meet Sarevok's hard gaze.

"Ah, I see," smiled Sarevok. He brushed a fingertip across Jaheira's smooth left cheek. "Then come with me, I will not refuse you."

When Sarevok and Jaheira broke apart, they found Xzar leveling his right hand at Bain, a sphere of green fire expanding within his grasp.

"Sarevok!" whispered Jaheira urgently.

"Xzar! Do not strike!" ordered Sarevok with a shake of his head.

"My lord?" frowned the spiky-haired mage.

"My brother..is no longer a threat," smiled Sarevok wryly. The warlord took Jaheira's left hand and led her towards the waiting wizard.

"Jaheira!" called Bain, his face anguished.

"All is well, Bain," smiled Jaheira. "Take care of Imoen, she needs you."

Bain watched as Sarevok, Jaheira, and Xzar disappeared within the shadows of the passageway. Looking away from the doorway, Bain noticed his sister still slumped against a wall. He ran across the forge, kneeling next to the rogue girl. The ugly wound across Imoen's forehead was gone, the only remnant of her injury was a pale sheen upon her face. As Bain gently stroked his sister's auburn hair, her eyes fluttered open, she smiled weakly up at her concerned sibling.

"Sarevok? The Sword of Blood?"

"Sarevok's gone, the sword is destroyed."

"Where's Jaheira?" asked Imoen with a groan as she slowly sat up.

"She went with Sarevok," replied Bain without expression.

"Why? Did he kidnap her?" frowned Imoen.

"No, she went willingly."

Imoen watched her brother closely. She sighed and pressed her face into his chest, her arms holding his waist firmly. Bain kissed his sister's soft hair, he held her close, drawing strength from her small frame.

***

Beyond the Elven city Sarevok found another squad of his men waiting with fresh horses. He dispersed the squad, ordering them to find the others and recall them. The armored warriors obeyed swiftly, soon just the warlord, Jaheira, and Xzar rode along a forest trail, the sounds of hunting creatures murmuring around them.

"Go on ahead, Xzar," ordered Sarevok.

The bulb-eyed mage regarded his lord, then nodded and coaxed his horse into a quick trot until he disappeared from sight.

Sarevok slowed until Jaheira was riding next to him. He reached over to her and enfolded her right hand. "I missed you when you ran away."

Jaheira raised her eyes and looked at Sarevok, the familiar hunger was there, she smiled softly.

"Shall we make camp?"

"Aye."

***

The tent was smaller than the usual pavilion that Sarevok used. The warlord covered the ground in thick black and silver furs, he lit a ring of sweet, beeswax candles, he poured cool wine from a flask into two small, silver goblets. Jaheira sat with Sarevok upon the piled furs, she sipped the spicy wine, closed her eyes as it warmed her throat and belly. Sarevok swallowed his wine quickly, he tossed the goblet aside and pressed his lips into the curve of Jaheira's neck and left shoulder. Jaheira rubbed her left cheek over Sarevok's black hair, she sighed when he slipped his left hand into her leather tunic, groping her right breast firmly.

"Never leave me again, Jaheira," murmured Sarevok in the elf woman's slender, pointed ear.

"I won't, my lord," panted Jaheira, her left hand resting on Sarevok's crotch, squeezing his rising manhood.

Sarevok discarded his dark armor with Jaheira's help. The warlord returned the favor with the half-elf's tunic, freeing her small, round breasts. Sarevok dug his left hand into Jaheira's tight breeches, rubbing her furry pussy, his lips tugging on one of her stiff, brown nipples. Jaheira clung to Sarevok's neck, breathing heavily into his hair. The elf woman loosened Sarevok's loin cloth with her free hand, she enfolded his cock with her fingers and slowly caressed it until the shaft was engorged against her warm palm.

Sarevok pulled his hand away from Jaheira's wet crotch and grasped her shoulders with both hands. He guided her down to his crotch, the elf woman obediently pressed her lips to the tip of the warlord's prick, she licked the moist tip with her light tongue.  Jaheira opened her mouth and let Sarevok's cock fill it. She began sucking upon the shaft, her tongue stroking its length, her lips tight and wet. Sarevok threw his head back and groaned with pleasure, he buried his hands in Jaheira's violet hair, the elf woman's head bobbed while she sucked hungrily on his meat, her lips tightening, her tongue making his pole shiver.

Jaheira sat up, gasping for air, drops of pale milk staining her wine-purple lips. The elf woman straddled Sarevok's crotch, she jerked down her leggings before reaching between her thighs to rub her thick, violet bush, the patch of pubic hair glistening and sweet with musk. Jaheira placed her palms on Sarevok's muscled, flat chest and rolled forward with her hips, driving the warlord's thick cock into her pussy. Sarevok and Jaheira both moaned while she bucked against him, her slim thighs squeezing his, her cunt pulling his shaft deeper into her body, into the tight, squeezing sheath of her vagina. Jaheira dug her nails into Sarevok's hot flesh, the warlord smiled in ecstasy, reaching out with his hands to grasp the elf woman's shaking breasts, his fingers stroking the pliant mounds.

Jaheira rode her lover until he released his seed inside her. She lowered her naked body over the warlord's, licking the salty sweat from his nipples, sliding her breasts across his hard stomach as her pussy clenched his cock tighter, squeezing it while her own orgasm blossomed inside her sweat-slick belly.

Sarevok kissed Jaheira, savoring the taste of her lips. He dragged a heavy fur over both of them, trapping Jaheira's heat beneath the blanket so it could warm his flushed skin. Jaheira planted warm kisses upon Sarevok's mouth, his cheeks, his throat. The sated warlord gently nibbled on the half-elf's pointed ears, making her sigh with pleasure. Exhaustion fell upon Jaheira, she lowered her head onto Sarevok's chest and fell asleep, her body resting on top of his. Sarevok brushed his lips over Jaheira's damp hair, he deeply inhaled her scent, musky from sex, sweet with the aroma of roses and spring air.

"You are mine, forever," murmured Sarevok, enfolding Jaheira's thin waist with his powerful arms, holding her possessively, desperately.

*****