Chapter Text
"Dorn, with me."
Cait gestured to the blackguard and indicated he should follow her.
"Everyone else: hold here for a moment, I have a bad feeling about this hallway."
Jaheira was characteristically ignoring her own gaping wound in her thigh and fussing over Khalid as he let out a small relieved sound and deposited himself on one of the crates in the store room they'd just cleared.
"T-t-thats q-quite alright with me!"
Cait cocked her head and looked at the timid Harper with concern. He'd taken the brunt of a bolt of electricity after the group had triggered a trap which Cait had failed to notice on their way into the mining compound's lowest levels, and hadn't seemed to fully recover even after Jaheira had tended to the wound. A sharp knot of guilt tied itself into Cait's guts whenever something like this happened. She should be doing better than this, her friends being hurt because of her lack of perfection was fully unacceptable.
"Yeah, why don't you guys take a break. Imoen, stand guard, will you?"
Imoen nodded and gave Cait a little wink as she headed to the room's only door aside from the one Cait and Dorn about to exit through.
"No problem, boss."
The door Cait had happened to notice on the seemingly blank brick wall led into a pitch black hallway. The compound had been riddled with traps and hidden alcoves wherein guards or conscripted hobgoblins lurked. She didn't like it at all, and Khalid and Jaheira never did particularly well when taken underground. This venture was not turning out at all like they'd expected, but then again they'd stumbled into this place almost entirely by accident while wandering the Cloakwood searching for some dwarf's cloak. Cait sighed. She should have encouraged patience, but there had just been such a convenient opening to sneak in at that moment and she couldn't resist the temptation to seek and find out.
No , she shook her head and internally reminded herself, they had all agreed and thought it was a good idea. Jaheira even called the compound a blight on the landscape and recommended we raize it.
She eyed the dark doorway in front of her and sighed.
"I hate these fucking Iron Throne guys."
Dorn made an amused sound in the back of his throat, but made no other response. Cait didn't like the idea that if one of these riff-raff had stumbled across Dorn before she had and offered him a place in their nefarious group, she likely would've ended up having to fight him somewhere in the bowels of this horrible place. The thought made her blood run cold and she squeezed past him and into the narrow hallway.
"I'm gonna scout ahead, watch my back?"
Dorn grunted an affirmative response and followed her into the dark passageway without hesitation.
Almost immediately Cait noticed three sets of tripwires. She held up a hand to indicate her finding to Dorn, and he came to a halt a few paces behind her.
Trip wires were her least favorite form of trap trigger. A pressure plate could be stepped around, a mechanism within a trunk or drawer could be easily unlatched from it's trigger, but wires were unpredictable. Depending on their age and sensitivity, the slightest disturbance could set them off. Even just stepping over them wasn't always a good idea, because more often than not there would be another even more delicate wire just out of sight on the other side of the first. She turned her head to look at the hulking shadow of Dorn behind her and murmured just loudly enough for him to hear.
"There's at least three. I'm gonna do my best to unhook them from the triggers, but be ready to get out of the way if I fuck it up."
There was a soft clanking sound as Dorn shifted and through the dim half-light she could just make out his nod of understanding, so she went about the tense business of unhooking the wires. The first two dislodged from the eyehook it had been strung through without trouble, but the third had been twisted around it's station more thoroughly and had become rigid and brittle with age and exposure to the lair's damp air.
"Dammit, I don't know about this one. Uh…"
She began to sweat, anxiously imagining some small mistake of hers sending some sort of spear or dart into Dorn. Dorn himself, however, was fully calm. He placitly watched her go about the fragile task, knowing full well that had it been he alone in this task he would have simply stepped on the wires and taken whatever punishment they would attempt to inflict upon him. He had seen Cait disassemble more complex mechanisms than these, and even her muttered curses at whatever was going wrong with this particular device did not concern him. His main criticism of the half-elf was that she never seemed to fully believe in her own abilities, a weakness he hoped she would outgrow with time and experience. It was best to wait and let her discover for herself that she had the situation fully under control.
It took several tense minutes, but at last she managed to unwind the wire's hooked end and dislodge it from the anchor on the wall. She stood up and dusted her hands off across the thick leather of her tassets.
"Done. No problem!"
Dorn grunted in approval, and approached Cait from behind now that the path was clear. He smoothed a large hand down her silken red braid and briefly tugged lightly on the end of it. She leaned briefly into his touch, and gave him a brief sly grin over her shoulder before continuing down the path. Dorn's blood rang as his constant desire for her was spurred on by the flush of pride he felt over her success, but now was not the time. If he ravaged her every time he was impressed by her they'd never get anything done.
"Focus, blackguard." Cait warned in a teasing tone. He smirked and fell into step behind her without comment.
A few yards down the path Cait made a sound in the back of her throat and began stroking the stones of the wall gingerly.
"Something doesn't look right about this wall."
Dorn couldn't say he agreed necessarily, but she did know better about these details than he did. He scanned the stones alongside her as she pressed her ear to the wall and smoothed her hand along the stones, looking for something out of place or different from the others, but--after seeing nothing-- defaulted back to watching his mate as she deciphered whatever clues she was picking up on. After a few moments she let out a soft "oh" and laughed at herself for the seemingly obvious whatever-it-was she'd been looking for, and confidently reached out to compress a particular stone which looked in no way different from any of it's brethren.
Light poured into the secret pathway as the second door opened, and Cait could now see that the path continued down just a few dozen more feet to her left. Ahead, beyond the newly opened doorway there stood the back of a tall piece of hardwood furniture which blocked the doorway from view from within the room. It was some form of shelf or storage for a kitchen based on the damp scent of cabbage and vinegar which drifted out towards them. There was just enough space for a person to squeeze between the lip of the actual wall and the large cabinet. Cait pulled a face at the unpleasant smell and listened in closely to the sounds of the adjoined room.
"I think just a cook in here, but there are more voices a little further in. I don't like going in without seeing where they are, and I don't think you could fit through this gap without us needing to move this shelf thing which would ruin the whole surprise factor… what do you think?"
Dorn chuckled darkly, "We may as well just barge in with swords drawn and revel in the blood of our foes. These bandits have proved no match for us in the past."
Cait leaned against the frame of the door and thought for a moment.
"Let me look farther down the passage and check to see if there's another option. I don't want another one of us wounded before we know where exactly this Davaeorn is."
Dorn nodded, clearly understanding the sensibility of this choice even if it wasn't to his taste.
Cait scanned the floor of the corridor ahead of her and found it to be clear of any visible traps.
She smirked and whispered over her shoulder to Dorn, "Fools just put down the one cluster of traps. Obviously they're not serious about this whole 'self preservation' thing."
Dorn chuckled and she continued carefully skirting the edge of the remaining length of corridor. She felt along the stone of the wall for the telltale electric feeling of an enchanted button. Suddenly, it was there, sparkling under her hand similarly to how a limb feels when waking up after having been deadened. She pressed an ear to the wall by the button on the off-chance she might get an indication of what awaited her on the other side. Hearing nothing, she compressed the stone and stepped back, one hand drifting towards the knife at her hip where it hovered--ready to draw steel should the moment require it.
More light entered the hallway, this time unblocked by anything masking the entrance on the other side. Cait squinted her eyes and hissed as they adjusted, and Dorn stepped smoothly to her side with his sword drawn and raised. The room on the other side of this wall reeked worse than the last, but now it carried the stink of uncared-for body, the dead, and refuse. Cait looked into the startled eyes of the emaciated, pale man before her and reflexively asked aloud to no one in particular.
"What kind of asshole puts a secret back door on his slave chambers???"
The man scrambled to his feet, his toothless mouth wide and his eyes filling with gleeful hope.
"Aren’t you the mercenaries who have been causing the Iron Throne so much trouble?"
Cait nodded an affirmation.
“Good! My name is Rill and I am the de facto leader of the--”
Cait shook her head sharply and interrupted the man, “No time. How can I help?”
Rill looked slightly taken aback, but then said timidly, “I need 100 gold. The captain of the Blacktalons on the first floor is not known for his loyalty to the Throne. If you give me the gold I’m sure I can escort those that remain out.”
"No, no, I think we can do better than that." Cait shook her head as she dug deeper into the bag at her hip and ignored Dorn's disapproving grumble.
“Here,” She continued as she pulled a sizable cloth sack from the depths of her seemingly bottomless bag, “ why don’t you take… hmm… this should be about 200. Make your way to the Friendly Arm Inn, it's just southeast of here. Get rooms and food for everyone you can manage to get out and get some rest on me." She pointed her slim arm down the length of the hall to her right, "Down there you'll find my friends Kahlid, Jaheira, and Imoen. Two of them are injured, but they'll be more than able to escort you out and--"
Dorn rested a heavy, gauntleted hand on her shoulder.
"You think it wise to send them all ahead of us?"
Cait shook her head, "No, I just want to get a quick look into the next room and see if I can tell where exactly we're heading when we come back when we're actually prepared for this."
Dorn nodded in approval, and Cait handed the poor man the money and waited as the handful of other prisoners shuffled out after him. Once they were clear of the two doorways Cait sprang into action.
First she ran into the slaves' quarters. She scanned the walls and bunks for anything useful before checking to confirm that yes, the door had no keyhole or handle on the inside. She swore softly and stretched up onto her toes to see if she could see into the next room through the barred window on the door. Unsuccessful, she darted back into the safer darkness of the secret hall. She shook her head up at Dorn, her mouth pulled to the side as she chewed on the inside of her cheek in thought.
"I'm going to have to go in through the kitchen."
Dorn's hand tightened on the hilt of his sword, "Like hell you are."
Cait silenced Dorn with a raised hand, "Please, I don't have time to argue. I'm not going to waste having come this far down without at least checking. And who knows," she winked, "it might turn out there's just enough work for the two of us and we can split the spoils between us."
So much for her irritating lack of confidence. Dorn ground his teeth and silenced his own judgment.
"Very well."
Cait stretched up onto her toes and yanked him down to her level for a brief kiss.
"I've been sneaking through rooms of half-drunken men undetected since I was four. Gorian literally had to magically attach a bell to me so I wouldn't be able to pickpocket the people who came to stay at the inn anymore. Also, like half of the other people in the world, I have magical powers. I can do this."
She released the edges of his pauldrons and danced backwards and away from him with a wink.
"If you hear people start dying, come on in!" She whispered gleefully as she disappeared through the gap between the wall and the cabinet.
Dorn considered his opinion of the current situation. Really, she was doing no different than he would do so he had no place to be upset with her. He grumbled quietly to himself and leaned his head back against the cold wall. He would kill her if she got herself killed.
Suddenly there came a round of raised voices accompanied by the whiz and thump of three arrows making their marks. A plainly dressed woman squeezed her way through the opening and let out a short scream upon coming face-to-broad-chest with the towering form of Dorn.
"Please!!! Don't hurt me, that lady said--"
Dorn grumbled and pointed his thumb down the hall.
"I don't care. Go."
The woman scurried away and Dorn kicked the back of the cabinet with massive force causing it to hurtle forward and fall on its face with a cacophony of broken dishes. He released a battle cry and stormed inside, his sword raised in both hands… only to find Cait calmly yanking one of her arrows from the throat of one of the ten or so guards she'd slaughtered in a matter of seconds. She looked up at him and shrugged innocently as she wiped a smear of blood from her cheek.
"They were more than half drunk."
Dorn let out a sound that was half groan half growl and sheathed his sword before storming across the room.
"What?!" She squeaked as she started to cautiously attempt to back away, "I was totally safe!"
He grabbed her by the waist and lifted her, slamming her backwards against the wall and kissing her roughly as soon as they'd made impact. He pulled away and set her down, chuckling darkly.
"Fucking glorious."
Cait blushed a dark pink, making what was visible of the yellowing bruise he'd left on her throat the last night they'd been alone darken and stand out. He leered down at her and brushed a calloused finger gently over his mark.
"I'll need to find a moment to refresh this soon."
She cocked an eyebrow and locked eyes with him as she tugged the uppermost laces of her chest piece loose and dragged the leather collar of her armor to the side, revealing the rest of the apple-sized mark.
"What're you waiting for, big guy?"
Cait ground her core against him and a low rumble began to emit from his chest as he considered her offer.
With a frustrated growl he set her down and took two steps back, his chest heaving with the effort the action had taken. She let out a soft disappointed sound and began retying her laces. He reached behind her head and wrapped her long braid around his hand twice before using it to leverage her gaze up towards him.
"As soon as we are no longer at risk."
The dark promise in his voice sent a shiver up her spine and she practically melted under his dark gaze.
"I-I'd like that." She stuttered slightly and flushed again, embarrassed at how utterly uncharismatic he was able to make her. It was… irritating.
Dorn stepped away from her with a smirk on his face and began picking through the belongings of the corpses that now littered the small dining hall. Cait felt the magical sizzle in the air one beat too late as a circular portal opened up behind Dorn and a man dressed in dark robes appeared. He had a dagger drawn and lunged for the half-orc's back.
"Dorn, behind you!"
It was too late. Davaeorn had appeared unannounced. His dagger sunk straight down into the thick muscle of Dorn's neck just above where the collar of his armor ended. The mage let out a villainous laugh as the portal reopened behind him and he vanished into it.
Cait knew she must have screamed, but instinct had taken over so quickly that she wasn't really sure. She got to Dorn's side quickly enough to steady him as he stumbled backwards, one hand pressed to the gushing wound at his throat. He roared at her.
"Pay me no mind, watch your back, elf!"
She ignored him and pulled his hand down and away from his throat, already forming the words in her mind that would knit his flesh and veins back together.
"Like hell, you fucking idiot, stop struggling or you'll bleed out, orc! "
The wound quickly closed, but a greenish paleness was still spreading from the fresh scar. Dorn's veins darkened and pressed against the confines of his skin, bulging and squirming in an unnatural way.
"Fuck! FUCK!" Cait cried, stumbling to ease his fall as he began to collapse to the ground. He was sweating and his eyes weren't focusing on her, "I swear to every god in every realm, Dorn, if you die I'll fucking kill you!"
He chuckled deliriously as he swayed backwards and murmured something along the lines of "I was just thinking the same of you."
The prickling feeling of magic returned to the air and Cait spun, drawing her bow and knocking an arrow to it in one fluid motion as she scanned the empty room.
"Come out you fucking coward! I'll rip your goddamn throat out!"
Her body was shaking but she did her best to steady her breathing and focus on the details of her surroundings. There was a partially concealed set of stairs leading down to another level which she had noticed upon her arrival in the room, and she cautiously approached them. She strained her ears for any sign of where her foe might appear next.
Suddenly a soft scrape and sizzle began behind her left shoulder, she spun and loosed an arrow. It collided with the partially materialized shoulder of the mage and there was a muffled cry of pain as another portal closed around Davaeorn and spirited him away.
"Fucking mages " , she muttered to herself.
She slung her bow onto her back and eased herself back into the shadow of the staircase, focusing everything in her will away from Dorn where he sat, curled in pain against the far wall and inward. She willed herself to disappear into the veiled darkness of the stairwell, and felt the cool tingling on her skin as she blended with the swirling shadows. She cautiously drew her knife and waited, hardly breathing, until the telltale crackle began again.
When the mage appeared again she was ready. As the entry portal began to form she found sure footing with one foot pressed against the stairway's wall and launched herself at her estimation of the mage's throat.
Her aim proved to be true, and the blade of her dagger found its home in the hollow of Davaeorn's throat as she hooked her arm around him and plunged backwards. She pushed the blade up and in with a savage crunch as it severed bone.
She disaffectedly watched the body as she allowed it to crumple to the ground, and let out a single chuckle of mild disbelief at her own success.
"Guess we won't be needing to come back later," she remarked casually to the corpse of the highest ranking member of the Iron Throne they'd yet to find as she rifled through his pockets and divested him of anything that seemed to be important.
Dorn's weak but enthusiastic chuckle snapped her back to the present. She ran over to him and started loosening the fastenings for his shoulder pieces so she could remove them and get a better look at the wound. He shook his head and stopped her progress as he covered both of her small hands with one of his.
"Jaheira, or the slime’s things?"
Cait realized she was slightly shaking and wondered if that was something she needed to worry about. She tried to focus on what Dorn had said, but her mind was fixated on the singular task she had assigned herself, so she brushed his large hand off easily and continued to uncover the remains of the wound.
Her spell had begun the healing process and stopped the flow of blood, but the large gash in the join of his neck and shoulder had not completely closed. The edges of it were black, and those bulging black veins spread from it like spider's legs. She nodded, her mind finally processing what had been said a moment before.
"Jaheira or the guy's stuff, yeah, good call."
She darted down the stairs and into a small large apartment. She rapidly scanned the branching hallways and the sliver of the room visible at the end of each. Upon identifying what looked to be a study of some kind she ran inside only to find--
"Please, don't hurt me, I'm just the apprentice!"
The younger man dressed in the plain robes of an apprentice mage was cowering against the farthest corner of the bookcase-lined room. Cait smoothly drew her stiletto from its sheath and calmly walked to the man. She yanked him up from his knees by the collar of his robe and slammed him back into one of the shelves he'd been trying to hide in front of. She pressed the blade of the razor-sharp knife to the whelp's throat and growled through gritted teeth.
"Do you know how to dispel your master's poison?"
The mage nodded frantically as tears streamed down his face and he tried in vain to squirm away from the lethal edge of that knife. There was a tense moment where neither of the parties involved were fully sure about what was going to come next, but sense won out over the burning panicked rage and Cait released her grip on the man's robes.
"Oh, thank you! You won't regret this!" The weasley man began to rummage through papers, folding stacks of them back, obviously looking for something. "I just need my key and--"
Cait shook her head "Just show me where it is."
The man scurried from the room and Cait followed easily. She felt far more calm than she would have expected in this situation, but that was probably a good thing, right? The man led her to a sleeping chamber and gestured at a large wooden trunk.
"Here!" He squeaked as his voice cracked anxiously.
She shoved past him and easily unlatched the simple lock on the chest's front, additionally and almost automatically disabling the explosive trap which was armed within the trunk as she worked. She stood back and gestured to indicate that the man should retrieve whatever the item was for himself. He smiled at her uncomfortably for some reason before wiping away some of the prodigious amount of sweat he was currently shedding and lunging to open the chest. There was a beat where he had obviously expected something to happen, but when nothing did he glanced confusedly up at Cait.
"I disabled it." She said with a cool smile.
"A-ah," he sputtered, "good."
He stooped and began rummaging in the chest, eventually making a small pleased sound and straightening up with a small black vial in hand. Vait divested him of his burden and promptly punched him hard in the face. He dropped like a canvas sack of potatoes to the flagstone floor and she turned her focus to the small vial he'd handed her. It wasn't labeled, and she knew better than to take someone being threatened with imminent death at their word. She closed her eyes and focused her intuition in the direction of her hand, just as Parda had taught her to during his tutoring sessions with her long ago. She allowed her conscious mind relax and retreat calmly into the background as she focused her intuition entirely in the direction of the bottle in her hand. Somewhere in the shadows of her mind she heard the easy drone of Parda's voice, just as it had sounded in her classroom within the great library so long ago.
"Let the item tell you it's name, child, you needn't force it. Seek it and it will come."
After only a moment the words came. Venom of the Purple Worm.
Cait growled and stuffed the vial into one of her many pockets before scanning the remaining contents of the chest. One light green bottle sparkled under her focused attention and she grabbed it.
Antidote.
She let out a pleased little sound and-- after kicking the worthless man's chest once with all of her strength for good measure-- ran up the stairs.
Dorn was even paler now. He was slumped against the far wall, his body slightly leaning to one side as he pressed a hand against the painful wound at his throat. Cait's trembling fingers had some difficulty uncorking the vial, but after a couple of tries she dislodged the small chunk of cork from the stopper and raised it to her companion's lips. She cupped a hand against the back of his overheated neck and helped his head tilt backwards as his throat accepted the mildly phosphorescent liquid. Dorn released a relieved sigh and his eyelids began to droop. Cait clutched his face between two of her hands.
"I'm so sorry if this is my fault."
Dorn chuckled weakly and slid his hand from his lap onto hers.
"Do not… apologize…" he grinned a lascivious if weak grin and offered her a wink "I was given the privilege of seeing you rip out the vermin's gullet in my honor."
Cait barked out a short scoff of a laugh, but any retort she could have potentially come up with died on her lips as two guards rushed in with swords drawn.
Cait sighed in irritation and immediately went with the first plan her mind offered up.
"Oh, thank the gods you're here! This man has been injured by those awful adventurers and needs help!"
The two men came to a halt, and there was a moment as one of their swords faltered and briefly lowered that Cait thought her knee-jerk plan had potentially actually worked.
"Ma'am, I work here and I've never seen either of you before in my life."
She blinked and huffed out a short breath of frustration before switching to plan B. She glared up and locked eyes alternately with each of the guards, and when the magical pinkish glint of a charm spell appeared in her eyes it was rapidly reflected by both of theirs.
"Let's try that again," she grunted out through gritted teeth, "this man is hurt and needs your help. Did your boss have some sort of convenient secret elevator to the surface or something like that down--"
"Oh sure," the first guard interrupted amicably, "yeah we can just take him to the boss's hidden emergency exit."
Cait smiled encouragingly, "Yes that sounds perfect!"
The second guard glanced down at the floor and gestured conversationally at the gore-smeared corpse of their former employer.
"Look! There he is right there!"
The first guard grinned triumphantly.
"Great! So he won't mind."
Cait scoffed at the pair of goons and turned back to the now fully unconscious Gorn.
Good, she thought to herself, that saves me from having to knock him out so he'd let them carry him.
The pair of fools struggled to lift the half-orc's hulking steel-plated figure, but after a few failed attempts managed to half-lift, half-drag him down the stairs. Cait followed close behind, casually scanning her surroundings for useful loot as the men corralled Dorn onto the rough wooden platform which had been fitted onto a system of ropes and pulleys. She wondered idly to herself why the only time she saw these "elevators" were in the lowest levels of dungeons such as this one since they seemed to be fairly useful feats of engineering, but quickly dismissed the train of thought as unuseful at that time.
She hurriedly grabbed a bundle of letters and scrolls from the deceased mage’s desk, taking only a moment to rifle through the drawers until she found a sufficiently weighty pouch of gold pieces to replace what she’d gifted the man’s prisoners earlier. She smirked and tossed the sack lightly in the air before snatching it back and stowing it in the bag at her hip and joining her unconscious half-orc on the platform. She winked and mimed tipping a hat at the two stupefied guards as the magical intoxication she had inflicted on them began to fade from their eyes. By the time their shouted objections began to sound she was already on her way to the uppermost floor.
As the platform moved slowly upwards and as the rush of her successful maneuvering of the last unexpected challenge in their little visit began to fade the fearful tension of the reality of the situation began to set back in. A large amount of a famously lethal venom had been delivered directly into Dorn’s bloodstream, and it had been several minutes until she had managed to get the antidote into him. The recovery from an exposure to the purple worm’s venom was famously both risky and extremely painful, as the process of it’s healing was resistant to the aid of both magic and medicine. Tears threatened sharply at the corners of her eyes and she reflexively squeezed and relaxed her fists repeatedly to calm herself as she eyed Dorn’s limp body with intense concern. She stooped down and checked his thready pulse, and the moment the lift came to a stop on the uppermost level of the mine she got to work dragging him into the vacant corridor. She sat him up as comfortably as she could against the rough rock and dirt of the tunnel wall.
“Stay here.” She murmured to him unnecessarily before dashing down the tunnel and in the direction of the exit.
Jaheira was waiting patiently with her freshly healed leg propped up on the small tankard-strewn table that resided in the bunker that occupied the entrance area of the compound. She was in the process of slicing into a shiny red apple she had materialized from somewhere despite the season, and looked up with a raised and unsurprised eyebrow as Cait rushed into the space panting and unaccompanied.
“Jaheira!” Cait cried in relief.
“Yes, oh omnipresent authority figure?”
Cait scoffed half-heartedly at the familiar mocking-but-affectionate nickname, and leaned down to rest her palms on her knees as she caught her breath.
“I was scouting ahead and we ended up close enough I thought we could figure out where the mage guy was so we ended up just clearing out the last few dudes and then,” she stopped to inhale a huge new lungful of air before rushing on, “then Dorn and I got… uh... a little distracted just for a second and the asshole snuck up on him and stabbed him with a venom-coated knife and I need help carrying him ‘cause we gotta get him to a healer soon or I think he might die.”
She panted as she came to the end of her rushed run-on sentence, staring up at Jaheira with desperation. The elder druid’s eyebrows had raised as she immediately caught on to the implication of the word “distracted” and Cait flinched in anticipation of her friend and mentor’s inevitable cutting remark. Surprisingly, though, Jaheira’s expression did not shift to the look of reproach Cait had expected from the eventual revelation of the change in her relationship with Dorn.
“Well,” said Jaheira calmly as she placed a sliver of apple on her tongue and headed down the stairs Cait had just run up, “you’d best get the others to come and help.”
Cait watched in exhausted relief as the closest thing she still had to a parental figure gracefully removed the responsibility of the nightmarish situation from her shoulders. Feeling mildly lightheaded she went in search of her other companions and the people they had managed to escort out of the compound. They were camped just outside, still lingering within the safety of the high walls, undoubtedly on Jaheira’s orders to wait for their remaining companions. Her strength began to fade as she waved Imoen to attention, who then in turn alerted the rest of the group, and those who were able approached to help get their fallen ally to safety.