Feel my blood enraged
It's just the fear of losing you
Don't you know my name?
You've been so long

And I've been putting out the fire with gasoline

See these eyes so red
Red like jungle burning bright
Those who feel me near
Pull the blinds and change their minds

'Cat People', David Bowie

Blood on the snow

Blood on the ashes

I'm not ashamed of what I am

Make it my own

Make it my castle

I'm not ashamed of what I am

Honour calls

Honour calls

Casting away the final mists of doubt...

When the wolves cry out

'When the Wolves Cry Out', Miracle of Sound

Cards Reshuffled 1 – Awakenings

You may think that it is bad enough to have a dangerous enemy hating you with a passion. But that is not the worst kind of enemy you can have. The worst kind of enemy is the one who feels no hate, has no passion to interfere with his thoughts and plans, and who is as devoid of malice as of mercy.

Excerpt from 'Ruminations Of A Master Bard'

His eyes were blue, that was what she remembered most clearly. Blue like the sky on a winter day. Cold. Remote. Emotionless. What was his face like? She couldn't seem to remember; it was all a blur of disjointed images twisted up by the pain that ran like a trail of blood through all her memories. Young? Old? Ugly? Beautiful? Or all of it? Her mind felt…fractured. Like a broken mirror, badly glued together. But the eyes were there, throughout it all. Blue. Beautiful. Utterly terrible.

Knives flashed through her mind, cutting her soul. That was worse than cutting the body, it felt like being torn apart from inside. Magic lashed and burned, whipped and seared. She couldn't reach inside, couldn't touch the source of her own power. It hurt too badly.

Blue eyes…so blue.

He…made her do things. No. Nonononono. She didn't want to remember. It hurt too much.

I don't want to remember any of it.

Why? He never explained, never threatened, never demanded. Only told her what he was going to do to her, and then did it. Always he spoke in that calm, reasonable voice. No anger, no triumph, no gloating. Just detached interest. He was observing her, every scream, every cry, every shade of bruising, and every spilt drop of blood. Observing, cataloguing, drawing conclusions. How much pain could she take? He seemed determined to find out.

How long has it been? I…can't remember any more.

The cage she was in was small, far too small to rest comfortably. The iron bit into her back and her legs were cramped as she huddled on the bottom of it, shivering with cold. Then that voice again, that beautiful cold voice, and the chilling blue eyes in the immobile face.

"So, the Child of Bhaal has awoken. It is time for more…experiments."

Didn't this happen before? Am I awake now, or dreaming still?

Pain, more pain. Screaming, voice raw with pain. Screams like music. Lovely music. Then blackness.

"Interesting. You have much untapped power."

The voice again, carefully measured, considering. More pain mind all hazy. Then explosions in the distance. More screams.

Was that me? It wasn't, was it? But I'm not sure. Does it matter?

The voice of Him, speaking, but not to her. The words were swirling, dancing, incomprehensible. Then he was gone, leaving only the memory of blue eyes behind. Her own eyes closed, she curled up in her cage, tears leaking out from beneath her eyelids. Finally, exhausted, she slept. Then, she dreamt.

There was a tree, the largest tree she had ever seen, as large as a city, humming with life and power. Two people were standing beneath it, a man and a woman. The man had his back to her, but she could see the woman's face, with slanted elven eyes and pointed ears partially covered by a mane of reddish-golden hair. She was regally dressed, proud and beautiful. Then she toppled and fell, cracking into a million pieces, and there was only emptiness inside. The man laughed, and there was something frighteningly familiar about that laughter. He started to turn…

A battle was raging around a castle, she could hear the screams of the dying, smell the stench of the dead. She hovered, invisible, in their midst. Snarling creatures rushed past her, there were flashes of green skin and sharp fangs. Then the battle was over, the monsters gone. But the castle was dark and ominous, and filled with danger. Who rules here? And who will rule? She was within now, standing inside a great stone hall, and a girl was before her, younger than herself, with red hair and a look of arrogant determination on her face. Then the girl spotted somebody behind the dreaming woman, and her entire face lit up with happiness and love, the haughtiness melting away. She reached out her hand and all of a sudden, her hair had turned a midnight black, and shadows danced in circles around her. Yet she was still smiling at the unseen person in the background. The dreaming woman turned around to try to see who it was…

A harp was playing, playing a beautiful melody, but it was sad, so sad as to make her heart bleed. It was a song of mourning. Who has died? Who is grieving? There was a woman in the distance, standing at a fork in the road. Her golden-brown hair was blowing freely in the wind, her face was resolute, but her eyes were filled with unshed tears. Jaheira? The name meant something, should mean something. The woman…Jaheira…turned and started walking down one of the dividing roads, and the dreamer knew that it was extremely important which one it was. She turned to follow…

There was a large tent, in brilliant colors, with flags flapping in the wind. Cheerful music was playing, and there was the smell of sweets. A circus? There was the laughter of little children all around, and then the laughter turned to screams, the open door to the tent became a grinning maw. Something…something is inside. Something evil. She started walking towards the door, helpless to stop. As she was about to enter, she felt a hand on her shoulder and a low voice whispered into her ear. I know that voice, don't I? But who… "Beware. It is not what you think it is. Beware the one behind the mask. I should know…" She turned to see who was speaking to her…

A girl was standing in the midst of a heap of rubble, stone dust settling onto her pink hair, her face streaked with tears and dirt. She was shouting, screaming at somebody who was just out of sight. Immy, the dreamer thought. I remember…got to help Immy. The girl…Imoen…raised her hand, and suddenly her eyes hardened. The dreamer didn't know what was about to happen, but she knew it spelled disaster. Immy! Don't! Then she was running, running after Imoen who was rapidly disappearing down a dark and empty corridor. Immy! Wait, I'm coming for you! I'm coming! IMMY! But she was being hunted even as she hunted, threatening footsteps coming closer and closer, almost upon her now, and she could run no further, couldn't escape, couldn't get out… Finally, the dreamer snarled, a feral sound of rage and hate, and as she turned, she could see the sharp claws growing from her fingertips…

A man was sitting in a room, alone and reading a book. His red robes were immediately familiar, and the dreamer felt herself suddenly swept by contradicting emotions. He…it's HIM! How… The wizard was looking tense and nervous, and he kept constantly starting at shadows. Suddenly, his dark eyes widened as there was a low hiss from inside the fireplace. A small cat, bright red, came strolling out of the flames, golden eyes glaring accusingly at the mage. Before he had the time to react, there was a low growl at the door, and the shadows solidified and came to life. A large black wolf stood there, teeth slightly bared, never taking his eyes off the wizard. Joy and fear warred for supremacy on the wizard's face as he watched the two animals. "You came back…" he whispered. "I kept wishing for it…but it is too dangerous! They are hunting still." And now there were footsteps outside the door, and somebody was tearing it open. As the wolf snarled and the cat bared her claws, the dreamer turned around to see who was coming…

"Wake up, you! Wake up! Come on, we have to get out of here!" Blue eyes, but not cold. Frantic, concerned, as familiar to her as were her own. The face that floated just before her own eyes was dirty and pale, and far too thin. And that scar…where did that scar come from? She shouldn't be scarred. It…it was He. He did that, I know it. Pink hair, dirty and bedraggled. Only person I know who'd dye it in that color. The young woman in the cage groaned, swimming up towards full consciousness, aches and pains suddenly springing back in full focus in her mind. The name floated up of its own accord, brought back by the dream.

"Im…Imoen?" Her voice sounded a little hoarse. Screaming. It's from all the screaming. No. Don't think about that. Not now.

Imoen nodded nervously, fiddling with the lock on the cage. "No time to talk, Rini. Got to get you out before…before he comes back."

Yes. That is my name. Zaerini. It is starting to come back. But…I was dreaming before she woke me up. It was important, I know it. I should try to remember. It was no use. Only fragments of the dream remained, the rest had scattered before the pain, the cold, the hunger. But freedom was close, so close. Finally, the door opened, and she practically fell outside into Imoen's waiting arms, her legs too unsteady and cramped to support her.

"You're so thin…" Imoen whispered. "And…and he hurt you." She winced, like an animal expecting to get kicked. "Sometimes I would hear it…"

"Immy…where are we? Who…how did this happen to us?"

Imoen gave her friend a sympathetic hug. "He messed with your head too, huh? All I know is we were near Baldur's Gate and got jumped. You remember?"

Shadows. The shadows… moved. They came alive. We fought, but they were too many. Too strong. Zaerini raked her hand through her red hair, wincing at the grime she felt and at the clumps of dried blood. "Not much," she said. "But…what about you? You…he hurt you too, didn't he? And how did you get out? Weren't you locked up too?"

For a moment Imoen's face went still, her mouth a little slack, her blue eyes unfocused. "I…I don't think I want to remember it all. He's been... doing things... to us. Rini, we have to get out of here! And…he's done something to me…something is different, but I don't know what. It's like my bones made a little dagger, and it's stabbing me. My head hurts…"

"All right, all right…" Zaerini said, holding her friend close as she stroked the dirty pink hair. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. You're right. We should get out of here."

Imoen nodded. "He's…distracted. Under attack. There was fighting everywhere, people in dark clothes attacking…him. I think they were assassins. But it was they who died…there's dead people everywhere." Her eyes turned distant once again. "My cell got damaged. That's how I was able to get out, and I found these lock picks…not very good ones, but enough. I had to get you out."

"Me…" Zaerini asked, dreading the answer she might get. "Are there…there were others traveling with us, weren't there? Have you…have you seen them?"

Imoen shook her head despondently. "I don't know, Rini. I…please don't ask me. They might still be alive…we should look for them. But we should go to the next room first, I think I saw some weapons in there."

The redhead nodded, looking around for the first time since she had left the cage. She was within a vast dungeon, with cold stonewalls, and a liberal amount of chains dangling from the roof. There was another cage, hanging from the ceiling like the one that had held her, but this one contained an ancient skeleton, with not a trace of flesh left on its bones. In the distance, she suddenly heard the sound of an explosion, and faint screams. "Yes," she said. "Weapons sound like a good idea."

The two friends slowly walked towards the door they could spot nearby, their hearts beating furiously as they expected to be attacked at any moment. I will not go back inside that cage, Rini thought. Never. He'll have to kill me first.

As they passed through the open doorway, she blinked as unfamiliar light stung eyes accustomed to darkness, and for a moment she stood motionless on the threshold. Then, something streaked through the air towards her, landing on her shoulder, and she screamed with utter terror as she tried to claw the monster away from her body.

Kitten, don't! It's only me! The voice within her head was frantic with concern, but filled with love as well, and it made the terrified half-elf stop in mid-motion. She was still breathing heavily as she turned her head, feeling soft fur brushing her cheek, and her own golden eyes looked into a pair of bright green ones in a black and furry face, inches away from her own.

Softpaws!

Zaerini held her familiar closely, stroking the cat's black fur, feeling the animal purring against her body. Softy, I'm so glad you're alive. If he'd hurt you…

The cat squirmed a little in her grasp, then nudged her throat with a soft nose. He never even knew I was here, kitten. I followed you here, but he never hurt me.

But you're so thin…are you sure you're all right?

I don't dare hunt too often, Softpaws explained, sounding a little pained. I didn't want to risk getting caught. And…I was afraid that if I stayed away too long you might be gone when I came back. She hissed quietly. He hurt you, and I couldn't do anything. I couldn't even reach your thoughts, you were in too much pain most of the time, or else he was there, watching. I had to…I had to let him do…those things to you.

Oh Softy. It wasn't your fault. It's not as if you could have fought him on your own. You'd have got killed, and that would have hurt me even more. Softy?

Yes, kitten?

If you were never captured…how did you get here? Did you see…the ones who attacked us? And…Him? What do you make of Him?

The cat was silent for a moment. I was sleeping inside your pack when they attacked. Somebody pulled it shut, I couldn't get out. I never saw who it was that attacked, but…I smelled them. Cold smells. Like dead things, walking. They were hissing. Your things were brought here, and I with them. I gnawed out of the pack once all was quiet, and we were in this place. Nobody saw me, but I saw the Hungry One.

The Hungry One…

Yes. The one who hurt you. He hungers for something; there is something he wants of you. Something he needs. He kept speaking of it, but he never said what it was. I'm sorry I can't help more.

The half-elf smiled faintly and laid her cheek against the soft fur, saddened at how easily she could feel the ribs beneath. You're helping already, simply by being here. We'll manage. Somehow, we will.

There was a small storage room to the side of the room with the cages. A golem waited there, and if it had been given more specific orders things would have gone very badly for the two girls and the cat. As it was, it had been told to guard the prisoners, but it had not been told to keep them from escaping, and it watched mutely as they helped themselves to what weapons they could find. There weren't many to choose from, and they weren't anything out of the ordinary, but Rini felt quite a bit better once she had acquired a sword. Not that it would do much good against Him, but it still helped. Imoen helped herself to a slim dagger, and then turned her attention to the painting hanging on the wall, behind which she found a small storage compartment.

"Look, Rini!" the pink-haired thief said, for a moment sounding almost like her own self. "It's your spellbook! And here are those ugly gold pantaloons you stole at the Friendly Arm, I thought you'd got rid of those ages ago. And…here's your deck of cards!"

The bard picked the cards up, weighing them in her hand, noticing that a couple of them had been stained with blood. My blood. He…I remember. He made me do a reading for him, I didn't want to, but he made me and…He didn't like it. He didn't understand much of it, I could tell, but he didn't like it. What was it about? I…I can't remember. He told me that I was lying, that I would get punished, and then he…

"Rini?" Imoen was touching her arm, looking close to tears. "Did I…did I say something wrong?"

"No, no," Zaerini said, shaking her head. "I just…remembered something. It was great of you to find these things."

"I guess he sold our other stuff…at least I can't see it anywhere. But I did find this." Imoen held up a common iron key. "It doesn't seem to fit anything here. I guess maybe we should go back, check the other room for more exits."

Zaerini didn't exactly relish the thought of going back to the room with the terrible cages, but there didn't seem to be much choice. "Yes," she said. "Let's go then."

Softpaws ran ahead, streaking along the ground like a black shadow. You want to go fetch the others, kitten? I'll show you, follow me.

Others? What othe…

But the cat didn't answer, simply ran ahead, eager to finally be able to aid her mistress. She ran straight towards the far end of the room, and up to yet another of the awful cages, this one firmly planted on the ground, and there she stopped, pawing at the iron bars. Inside was a half-elven woman, as dirty and lean as the other prisoners, but somehow still managing to look proud and regal. Her green eyes flashed with sudden emotion as she saw Rini and Imoen approaching, and when she spoke her thickly accented Tethyran voice carried definite traces of relief with it. "Children!" she said. "I am so pleased to see you both free. I had feared that…but no. Quickly, we must get out of here before whoever did this returns." She chuckled wryly. "I swear, traveling with you is never dull."

Memories kept flashing through Zaerini's mind, reality and dream intermingled. She knew this woman, had traveled with her for a long time. She knew her pride and competence, her stubbornness and eagerness to take command, but also her warm heart and her genuine desire to protect. "Jaheira?" But in my dream she was sad…wasn't she? She seems all right now, she's been starved, but she's not in pain, not like Immy. Then why did I dream that she was weeping? "Are you…are you well?"

The druid gave her a sharp look. "Apart from having been locked in this cage for Silvanus knows how long, with scarce provisions? Yes child, I am. But you, on the other hand…"

"Yes," the bard interrupted. "I know. Look, I think we found the key to your cell. Just a moment." Keep talking. Don't let her ask questions. I can't bear to talk about Him, not now. Not yet.

Door unlocked, the druid stepped outside, looking seriously concerned. "Child, you were avoiding the issue."

Damn. "What issue?"

Jaheira put a comforting hand on the younger woman's shoulder, her voice softening just a little bit. "He usually took you away when he was about to perform his…experiments." She spat out the last word. "But sometimes I could hear you. I know not what he did, but I know you were hurt, body and soul." She turned to Imoen. "And you as well, child. I only wish to help you, both of you."

Rini bowed her head, her red hair falling forward to cover her face like a curtain. It looked dirty, and uncombed. She'd always tried to look after it, even on the road. Particularly when…when he was still around. He liked to watch it. He never said it outright, but I could tell. He wouldn't like the look of me now though. I'm a complete scarecrow. And anyway…he walked out on me. He left. I remember that much. "I know, Jaheira," she said. "But I don't remember much. And what I do remember…I can't talk about it now. Let's try to get out of here first, there'll be plenty of time for talk later." She suddenly thought of something. She'd hardly ever seen the druid without… "Where's Khalid? Is he here as well?" She looked about for the half-elven warrior, her shy and gentle friend, Jaheira's loving husband.

Jaheria shook her face, and a shadow crept into her green eyes, like night falling in the forest. "I do not know where he is, and it worries me. No doubt he was taken as we were, though it seems we were all meant for different fates. I have not seen him since our capture, and the thought of him receiving the same treatment you did is…unbearable."

Imoen made a low sound, deep in her throat, like a soft whimper. "Maybe…maybe he's close by? Maybe he's…maybe he's free too? I…didn't see him. I didn't see anything. Did I?"

Jaheira shook her head. "Child, you are babbling," she said in a kind voice. "Do not fret. We will find Khalid. I will not be separated from him for long. But there is another captive here, close by, over around that corner. I have heard him on occasion, and there can be no doubt. Minsc will require our aid."

Minsc? The bard dredged through her memory. Who is…oh. Minsc. Now I remember. The…one with the hamster. Oh, how annoyed he used to get with…no. Don't think about him. He left. Good for him, I guess. At least he didn't wind up stuck in a cage.

Imoen was already running towards the cage in the other part of the room, and a cheerful bellow could be heard from there, like that of a particularly happy moose. As Zaerini caught up with her friends, she found another cage, the largest one yet. Inside was a huge man, with a purple tattoo covering the larger parts of his face, and he was laughing happily.

"Little Imoen! And little Zaerini too! And the tree lady! Minsc is so happy to see you all! With all the evil oozing from the walls in this place, it is good to see friendly faces, and friendly feet to aid with the kicking of Evil Butts!"

Rini smiled, despite everything. She'd always liked the giant Rashemani berserker, with his simple but sometimes surprisingly deep mind, and his gentle heart. The Witch though…never was that fond of her. Far too stuck-up. But…we…we needed a mage after…after he left. I didn't care who, at that point. At least she knew what she was doing.

"Poor Minsc…" Imoen said, her face solemn. "We'll find a way to get you out, don't you worry."

Minsc nodded eagerly, a feverish glow lightening his eyes. "Yes! Freedom! Glorious freedom! My good friends will release me, and I will rain down blows like a hailstorm of Justice upon those who have dared imprison me, and…and…" His face fell, and suddenly he wailed, a terrible, heartfelt cry of pure pain. "DYNAHEIR! No! NO! She will be avenged!"

"Dynaheir?" Rini said, unclasping her hands from her sensitive half-elven ears. She hoped the ringing would stop soon.

Minsc nodded, tears rising into his eyes. "...They... they killed her as I watched, you see? I know not who they were, but...but I will redeem myself!"

More memories. Minsc…he had been Dynaheir's protector, the Witch's bodyguard. It was his sacred duty, and part of his passage to official manhood. If she was dead…it meant he had failed, effectively making himself an exile from his faraway homeland of Rasheman, forever. Poor, poor Minsc. That has to hurt so much. Poor Dynaheir too, I guess…but her I never really got to know.

Imoen was crying too now, her little hands clenched on the bars of the cage. "Minsc, that is horrible! I am so sorry for you."

Minsc sniffled a little. "I won't cry for the dead! I won't! Ok, maybe a little, but I will staunch the flow of tears with righteous fury! Lullaby and goodnight, evil! Minsc will make you pay!" A small and furious squeaking sounded, and a tiny and furry face became visible over his shoulder, black and round little eyes glittering dangerously. "And Boo too," Minsc added, petting the tiny hamster. "Boo will worm his way cunningly into the Sinister Underpants of Evil, and then his sharp teeth will dispense Hamster Justice!"

"Right…" Zaerini said, feeling a little dazed, a common sensation when conversing with Minsc. She also couldn't help but notice that the lock to Minsc's cage wasn't just locked, it had been welded shut. "That's a very…vivid image. Not that I object." How can we possibly get him out of there though? Unless… "Minsc," she said. "Do you know what our captor keeps next door? It's a tiny machine, with a very sharp blade, and a tiny little basket for heads to drop into. Little furry heads. I think he means it for Boo, but there were plenty of dead little hamsters lying about, so I guess he's been practicing."

"RAAARRRRRGH!" This roar was even more terrible to hear, and as Minsc grasped the bars of his cage they creaked and shuddered, and finally bent. The warrior came striding out, his face twisted with fury. "The fiend! The slayer of hamsters! He shall pay, and Boo shall gobble his evil eyeballs down like peeled grapes! He shall maim! He shall crush! He shall…"

"Whoa!" the half-elf interjected. "Minsc, it's all right! I only made that up, I'm sorry I had to trick you. But at least it got you out, right?"

On Minsc's face the fury gave way to puzzlement, and then to his usual good-natured smile. "Oh, little Rini is clever, very clever! I understand now! You said what you did just to get me mad! Mad enough to break free! You are as smart as Boo sometimes!"

Jaheira shuddered briefly. "Speaking of which, however did that rodent manage to elude our captor?"

Minsc put one finger to his nose in an expression of extreme cunning. "Don't ask questions better left to aged sages. Boo is quick and evasive and there is ever so much of Minsc to search, there is no hope of getting us apart."

Imoen made a face. "Eww, I... really don't want to think about that too much."

I'm hungry, Softpaws said in a commanding voice.

No, Softy. I know what you're going to say, but you can't eat Boo. Not unless you want Minsc to make you into a pair of earmuffs.

He wouldn't have to know! I'd eat very quietly, in a secluded corner…

I said no! Besides, I have a feeling that hamster is pretty tough. He might wipe the floor with you. I'll find you something to eat as soon as possible, I promise…

Oh, all right. Not the things in the jars though.

What things in…no. I'm sure I don't want to know. It's probably disgusting anyway.

Zaerini smiled slightly. She had her familiar back, she had trusted friends with her. She had just learnt more than she'd ever wished to know about where one might hide a hamster. The pain and the bad memories were still there of course. But for the moment, she was able to put them aside. And for the moment, that would have to be enough.