Author's Note: For those who may not have played the original Neverwinter Nights (or who, like me, may need a bit of a refresher), here's a summary. About two years before NWN2 starts, Neverwinter is hit with a mysterious plague called the Wailing Death, which cannot be cured by normal or magical means. A significant part of the population dies (mostly the poor part, the rich part having barricaded themselves in their mansions). Nasher's right hand is a knight (and I assume the captain of his Nine), a highly admired paladin of Tyr named Aribeth de Tylmarande. Aribeth calls for a Hero to quest for the cure. This Hero works with her and her fiancé, Fenthick Moss, a cleric of Tyr, as well as with Desther, a priest of Helm. The Hero is the PC, of course.

The Hero finds the ingredients for the cure but once it's created, Desther steals it, opens a portal and flees. Desther and his followers had killed and replaced the real clerics of Helm and were spreading the plague with their 'blessings' instead of curing it. Fenthick, shocked and disbelieving, follows Desther through the closing portal to demand an explanation. The PC travels to Helm's Hold, captures Desther and Fenthick, and returns them to Neverwinter for judgment. Desther was burned at the stake. Fenthick was found guilty of negligence and the "masses" demanded he die for his gullibility. (He had publicly supported Desther. That was his crime.) He was hanged while Aribeth watched and then buried in the Tomb of the Betrayers.

I can't imagine that unjust verdict went with a swing (so to speak) in the Hall of Justice and it is heavily implied that Nasher forced those who might object to be silent in a show of solidarity. For worse things were coming from the cult that started the plague. The Hero of Neverwinter continues to work for Aribeth as they search for the cult. Aribeth, whom the Hero has come to care for, becomes increasingly... strange.

The cult appears to be based in Luskan's Hosttower and the team surreptitiously relocates to Luskan. There, Aribeth disappears. On penetrating the Hosttower, the Hero learns that Aribeth has Fallen and, as a blackguard, has pledged herself to the cult in revenge for Fenthick's sacrifice. His murder, as she sees it. She becomes the cult's general, leading Luskan troops in an attack upon Neverwinter.

Lots more adventure, finally the Hero defeats Aribeth and spares her because he loves her. After the city is saved, Nasher has her executed. (Honestly, hard to see how he could have done anything else.) Bitter, the Hero huffs off and Nasher has him written out of the histories.

Events may differ based on your choices in the game but I think this is close to the canon playthrough.

It seems to me that all these events must be searingly fresh in the minds of the whole church of Tyr. Two of their own were executed as traitors. Aribeth and Fenthick were admired, trusted, popular. Their tragic deaths happened quite recently and the city is still trying to rebuild from the attacks that Aribeth led. Unless Casavir was in a coma or out planes-walking, he must have known the doomed couple quite well and had to at least have seen the Hero. I can't imagine that these events haven't affected his beliefs and actions.

Oh, and on a personal note...sorry this is late...dealing with family stuff...my mom died...long-time Alzheimer's...a release for her, if not for her family. I've been surrounded by so much kindness, it's hard to believe we live in such a cruel, wicked world (despite the overwhelming evidence).

p-p

Ch 9...Are You Okay?

It didn't look like the impromptu celebration in the common room was going to end anytime soon. Sometime after Elanee slipped away, I slipped away myself. I was scouring my armor when I heard a knock.

"Come in," I said. It was Lilian and there was a boy with her. He had dark smears of freckles on his face and arms. His shaggy red hair brushed his shoulders. All the boys had unkempt heads. Were there no barbers in the Docks? Perhaps Grobnar and his Scissors of Doom could sort these children out. The boy pushed his way past Lilian and cast sly looks around my room. Had I met this boy on the streets, my hand would have definitely been on my coin purse. I gave Lilian a questioning look but her gaze was on the boy.

"Hey," Lilian told him. "Why are you following me? What part of 'go to bed' are you having so much trouble with?"

"I'm not tired," the boy said. "I want to stay up with you and Auntie Neeshka."

"You're whining. Don't whine. It makes people want to yank you around by the ears." He gave her an imbecilic stare. Her eyes narrowed. "I'm sorry you're not tired," she said in a voice so calm and reasonable that it came off quite threatening. "I can fix it so you're tired tomorrow. Very tired. Is that what you want?"

The boy's slack look vanished. She maintained eye contact. "No, ma'am."

"Then good night."

"Good night," he sighed. He turned to me with a sad plea on his face. "Good night, sir." He gave a bigger sigh then shuffled off. Slowly. Lilian rolled her eyes.

"Duncan spoils them. So does Neeshka. Always a mess to straighten out when I get home. Wish I didn't have to travel so much."

"Which one was that?"

"Greg." She started to say something, then shook her head a little and briefly looked up at the ceiling as if seeking counsel. "Anyway. Tomorrow. Sir Nevalle said we should show up before dinner, after the afternoon court session, or whatever they call it. Is that okay?"

"Yes."

"Are you okay?"

I started to ask 'what do you mean?' and I realized that would be false. I knew what she meant and I wasn't sure how to answer. When had I become so secretive? Surely that wasn't my true nature. Tyr, help me out here.

"Do you know why Nasher wants me there?" I asked. Yes, I was stalling.

"No." She gave me a look through her long, sandy eyelashes. "Maybe something to do with Callum's letter?"

"Yes. Most likely." She didn't ask any questions but her look remained steady. I was beginning to feel like young Greg, pinned by her stare. I probably looked imbecilic. Any moment now, I would squirm and possibly sigh. "I was once in Neverwinter's service." She still didn't speak. "I was Sir Callum's squire."

"A squire? Did that make you nobility?"

I blinked. "Yes." It was true that becoming a squire would, in theory, elevate one to the nobility. I was surprised she knew that. That was one reason most knights chose their squires from the youths of noble houses. To do otherwise could create...controversy. And truly, to throw some unconnected commoner into the viper pit of Nasher's court must be considered an act of malice.

"I had a disagreement with Lord Nasher," I said. "I left his service and I left the Order as well." I realized she didn't quite follow me. "Tyr's order. The church."

"Must have been some disagreement."

"Yes." She waited for me to say more but I didn't. I couldn't. I felt tangled in secrets and the problem was that they weren't my secrets. I may have broken faith with Nasher and the Order but I had sworn silence and that was an oath I had yet to break.

"Are they going to punish you? For leaving?" She joined her hands together and squeezed. I had seen her make that nervous gesture before.

"No," I said. "What I did was within my rights." More slowly, I added, "Lord Nasher may be angry but if he wanted to punish me, he wouldn't call me to the castle and do it in your presence."

"Good. I wouldn't like that." Her eyes shuttered to slits and then she frowned. "I wouldn't like it behind my back either."

I gave a breath, almost a laugh. "Nor would I."

"Would he do that? Would he be nice to my face and punish you behind my back?" I hesitated. Her frown had not abated. "I'm not accusing anyone. I don't know these people," she said. "But I think that you do."

"I don't think he'd do something like that," I said.

"Huh." She gave me a slow blink. "Why do you think he asked you to come?"

I had been thinking about that. Obsessively, in fact. "I suspect he wants to assess me. I've been gone two years. He'll want to know if I am a threat to him or to you."

He'll wonder if I've Fallen, I thought. He's heard from Callum but he will want to see for himself.

"How could you be a threat to me? After all you've done to help. That's silly."

"I'm glad that you think so."

"I know so. I feel your god's power in you. I see it. I'd think anyone could. Okay. Tomorrow, before dinner. We should wear our armor and weapons. We're warriors. Why pretend we are anything else?"

Why, indeed?

"Yes, ma'am," I said.

I sounded enough like Greg that she grinned at me.

p-p

The next morning, I walked to the Hall of Justice in the Merchant's Quarter. I got turned around twice in the Docks District but once I'd crossed the bridge I knew my way well enough. I expected to feel nervous as I walked into the shadowed courtyard, up the worn steps and into the temple itself. I should have felt nervous but I felt...empty. So much of my life had been spent in this complex. I'd studied, I'd trained, and I'd prayed. Oh, how I'd prayed. I'd grappled with pride and doubt, with anger, self-righteousness and loneliness. I'd made friendships and I'd walked away from them. And always, I had strived to hear Tyr's voice, to feel his blind gaze, and to be worthy of the service to which I'd been called.

So much of my life had been lived within these halls...a life that had seemed vivid and real at the time and now felt as smoky and indistinct as a dream...as illusory as my time at Old Owl Well. I had walked away from the temple's life, justly, or unjustly, and I needed to sort that out, if I could. I sought a new life now, but our future is built upon our past. I needed to look upon my past with clarity if I wished to learn Tyr's path for me now.

Or, of course, I could repeat my old mistakes. No. Tyr expected more. So did I. I had erred and a significant part of my error was my unquestioning obedience. We were trained to obey from an early age and I think it is a paladin's instinct to pledge himself to a just cause. But knowing where justice lies... once I believed this was a simple task. And now I wondered. Who amongst us has the wisdom and foresight to see justice, understand justice, and deliver justice? Can men even do such a thing? I had my doubts.

Nasher loved Tyr. Nasher loved Neverwinter. Nasher had always favored Tyr's paladins. Once, my trust in my king had been based on those facts. Nasher wasn't a bad man. He wasn't a bad king. But having been betrayed, he saw betrayal everywhere. Was this suspiciousness wise and necessary or did it create its own form of blindness? All too often, what we seek is what we find, and that may cause us to overlook greater truths.

Two years ago, it was Judge Oleff who had assigned me to Lord Nasher's...task. It was Judge Oleff who had reassured me when I'd questioned the morality, the justice of this task. And it was Judge Oleff whom I had confronted when everything had blown apart, when there was blood on my hands and accusations flying...and now, years later, when I'd finally dragged myself back to the temple, Judge Oleff was not available. He was out, about his duties, the polite acolyte told me. He'd be back later. Would I make an appointment?

I'd come to the temple at a time when it was almost a certainty that anyone of importance would already be busy with their allotted tasks. Was I being subtle? With myself? No, I had just lacked nerve. I could wait. They would return and I would be here.

The acolyte did not recognize me, nor did I know her. She was a half-elf. Her hair was dark, not red, and she didn't resemble Aribeth at all, but the sight of those pointed ears sent my thoughts to the first half-elf I'd ever known. Aribeth de Tylmarande was the paladin who had influenced so many of us. Aribeth was beautiful, she was pious, she was skilled, she was kind. She inspired. She blessed.

She Fell. She betrayed.

Even now, after two years, the thought of her fall and betrayal flayed me. If she could fall, Aribeth, our inspiration, our dream, our model, then who amongst us was safe?

And the answer was that no paladin was safe. We all walked the sword's edge and only faith could keep us balanced. Aribeth had Fallen and yet Tyr still blessed me. How could I make sense of this?

I found myself before the statue of Tyr in the vigil chapel and I did not remember leaving the acolyte. I knelt.

I had joined the church as a youngster. I don't know where the belief had originated but all of us younglings thought rubbing the statue's plinth under His maimed hand would bring us luck. I rubbed it now. The stone was smooth and silky, polished by how many hands, over how many years? I did not know. Did I need luck? Perhaps, but mainly I needed guidance.

My Lord Tyr. I have sinned. How can I bear it? How can You bear it? You cast Aribeth aside. Why not me?

Aribeth cast Me aside in life. In death, her soul accepted Me. You have made errors but you have not turned away from Me.

Can I make amends?

You can serve Me. You can serve Justice. This is all I have ever asked.

That was all He'd ever asked. I bowed deeper, until my head touched the plinth. I was confused. The stone was cold. The room was cold. I regretted much but not everything. The mistakes I'd made had led me to the path my feet now travelled. A path I wanted to continue. A path I felt was righteous.

My Lord Tyr. Protect her. Protect me. Protect us all.