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Judas	By : BronxWench Category: +M through R > Neverwinter Nights Views: 438 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Neverwinter Nights 2 and I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter 3
She could hear Ammon cursing behind her as she sifted through the remains of the Shadow Reavers. Khelgar matched him curse for curse, lapsing into Dwarvish when the common tongue ran out of possible combinations. She straightened, and turned to look at the small group behind her.
They all bore wounds, mostly minor, but enough to slow them somewhat. Still, they had managed to survive, fighting their way past the last of Garius's minions. She nodded, her expression grim.
“I do not know what lies ahead, my friends. I know we have yet to find Garius himself.” She paused, sweeping her hair back from her face. “We will prevail, this much I do know.” She managed a smile, dredging it up from somewhere deep inside her.
“My lady, you spoke of measures taken before we left the Keep.” Casavir's tone was level, but his eyes were troubled. “Perhaps now would be a good time to invoke any aid?”
“Be careful what you ask for, paladin.”
Casavir stiffened, his fist tightening around the haft of his warhammer as he turned around. Bishop leaned against the wall, an insolent grin his greeting.
“Bishop!” She ran to him, threw her arms around his neck. “I was beginning to think you would not come. I feared the worst.”
“Nah, it'd take more than Garius to stop me.” He returned the embrace, enjoying the paladin's obvious discomfit as he stroked her hair with casual familiarity.
“This,” Casavir choked out, “is our aid?” He managed to convey both scorn and disbelief by his tone.
“Brought the rest of the group along, all but Neeshka,” Bishop said. Pain flickered briefly in his eyes. “Garius is just beyond the doors where they're waiting.”
“And Neeshka?” She knew what Zhjaeve had said was true, that Garius would use the tiefling's Baatezu heritage to bind her to his service, but she needed the confirmation.
“With Garius.” Bishop's voice was flat, telling her all she needed to know.
Her voice was firm, her mind set on the task ahead. “What else accompanies Garius?”
“Two golems, nothing we can't handle. Neeshka, unless we can snap her out of whatever hold he's got on her.” Bishop ran a hand across his stubbled jaw. “There's a portal, and the same damned statues we were chasing down in Arvahn.”
“All five?” Ammon grated, his eyes feverish.
“Yeah, and all intact,” Bishop said. “Old Boneface seemed to think they were important enough to keep me away.”
Casavir narrowed his eyes. “Do not make the mistake of underestimating Garius,” the paladin said coldly. “We have seen firsthand what he can do when he draws upon his master's power.”
“Scared, paladin?” Bishop laughed. “I saw his pets, killed a few too. I wouldn't have left the Keep if I thought you were in over your head, temple boy.”
“You left after destroying the gates!” Casavir raised his warhammer halfway, his eyes smoldering with rage.
“He left because I asked him to betray me.” The Captain stepped between the two men, facing Casavir. “The sabotage was planned.”
Bishop treated Casavir to his most insolent grin. “Captain didn't let you in on the plan? Poor paladin, always the last to know.”
“How sure are you that it was a pretense, my lady?” Casavir stepped forward, clearly close to losing control. “Bishop has never done anything that does not benefit Bishop, and I fail to see where he gained by such a pretense.”
“Are you presuming to question me?” She stood very still, every muscle tense. “I am sure it was a pretense, Casavir, because Bishop is here, now, when he could have been well away and safe.” Her voice was cold, her eyes like ice. “You betrayed your own vows to Neverwinter and to Tyr when you left for the Well, or is it somehow justified because you are a paladin?” She spat the last word like a curse.
Casavir stared at her, speechless, as Bishop mimed applause. It was Ammon's harsh rasp that cut through the tension.
“If we're done comparing levels of faithlessness and betrayal, in which I'd best all of you by far, can we see to ending the threat that lies just beyond the doors you are so ready to decorate with each other's blood?”
“Fine by me,” said Khelgar. “I'm up for punching something a few dozen times.”
“You are right, Ammon.” Casavir's jaw was clenched, but he offered a slight bow to the Captain. “Lead, my lady, and I shall follow. I pledged my aid, and I will keep my oath.”
She nodded curtly, and opened the door. As the rest of her companions took their places behind her, she flung open the second set of doors and strode into the center hall, the Sword of Gith gleaming naked in her hand.
Bishop hung back, as Garius probed loyalties and explored weaknesses. Neeshka, despite torture and geas, defied Garius and stood beside Khelgar, who beamed up at her like a proud father. Only Qara succumbed to his blandishments, but that was no surprise to anyone present. As Qara moved to join Garius, Bishop sighed deeply, slotted an arrow, and let fly. It struck Qara precisely at the base of her skull, and she dropped in a graceless heap.
“Bishop!” Garius seemed startled to see him standing behind the Captain. “What are you doing? You are mine!”
“Actually, Garius,” Bishop drawled, “I've been hers all along. She's a lot easier on the eyes, and then there are those fringe benefits.” He grinned wickedly. “You never could figure out what real people care about, could you? Seems your habit of underestimating folks is going to get you killed after all.”
“We'll see about that, ranger,” Garius snarled. “But first, let us protect the portal from the unpleasantness to come.” He gestured, and walls of force sprang up, neatly dividing the Captain from most of her companions.
Most, but not all. Bishop grimaced as Casavir managed to insinuate himself beside the Captain, leaving Bishop on the wrong side of the magical wall. He could only watch as she advanced on Garius, grim and pale, with her sword shimmering eagerly. Several gates opened on his side of the barrier, and as demons emerged, Bishop raised his bow and focused on the new threats. Khelgar, as least, rewarded him with a quick nod and an eager grin as he moved forward, fists raised.
“Casavir, take the golems. Garius is mine.” She did not bother with a backward glance to see if the paladin complied. Her eyes never left Garius, and she stalked toward him with relentless determination. Magic flared and died, her mithral chain absorbing the energy Garius flung at her, and translating it into a protective shield. She was oblivious to everything but her desire to finish Garius.
Bishop and the rest of her companions dealt swiftly with their Abyssal foes. Now they could only watch as the Captain raised her Sword and began her lethal dance. Energies surged, and the Sword became a liquid column of incandescent silver that sliced through Garius's defenses.
“Kalach-Cha,” Zhjaeve whispered, awed.
She was inhuman in her speed, her every movement flowing seamlessly into the next, beautiful and deadly. How much of it was that damned sword, no one could say. She pressed the attack, silent and implacable, as pitiless as the golems that lay shattered by Casavir's warhammer. And in the end, it was Garius whose screams echoed from the ancient stones.
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Judas