Baldur's gate II_ throne of Bhaal - Drew Karpyshyn [1]
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The small house was surrounded. The wall of soldiers and mercenaries encircling the tiny farm slowly closed ranks, drawing the noose ever tighter around the neck of the foul Child of Bhaal. An eager crowd of townsfolk hovered just outside the edges of the circle-anxious to see, but fearful of being seen. The leader of the soldiers, hidden by dark shadows and a heavy hooded cloak, oversaw the entire scene from a safe distance.
The house was quiet as the armored men approached, but a light from within shone through small cracks in the walls. The soldiers stopped, and from the crowd of civilians behind them the mayor was reluctantly pushed to the fore.
Shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other, the mayor looked around, seeking some comfort or reassurance in the faces of the people he represented. The townsfolk hung back beyond the circle of soldiers, staring at the ground. Their downcast faces were blurred by flickering torchlight and shadows, their true feelings inscrutable.
The mayor could clearly see the expression on the faces of the nearby soldiers. Or rather, he could see that their faces held no expression at all. Each of the armored men surrounding the small farmhouse returned the mayor's searching gaze with a look of apathy, devoid of all thought or compassion. They were highly trained not to feel anything but a fanatical obedience to duty and to the will of their cowled leader, almost completely hidden in the shadows.
The mayor cleared his throat, and when he spoke his voice projected clear and loud, despite his reservations- the voice of a man used to making public speeches.
"Gerdon, for the safety of the community you are to be taken into custody, lest your unholy taint bring destruction down on us all! If you surrender without bloodshed, you will be arrested and given a fair trial!"
There was no reply from within the house. The only sound was the occasional crackle or sputter from one of the burning torches. The mayor waited a suitable length of time before speaking again.
"Ravia, your wife, will be allowed to go free if you surrender to us. If you resist, I cannot guarantee her safety."
Again, the only reply was silence. The mayor continued.
"Your son, Terrel, must also be surrendered to us of course. The foul blood of Bhaal runs in his veins as well."
This time the mayor allowed the silence to drag for many minutes before he resumed speaking. He had delivered the carefully composed speech as the hooded figure had instructed him to do. Now he was left with only his own words. When he spoke again, his voice no longer held the deep timbre of an official proclamation.
"Gerdon, please… be reasonable. This is unpleasant for us all. For the safety of our families, and yours, you must turn yourself and your son over to the auth-"
The arrow embedded itself in the mayor's chest, the metal point biting deep into the flesh, penetrating between the tough bone of the ribcage and puncturing a lung. The pleas of the mayor were lost in a choking froth of blood. The mayor clutched feebly at the shaft protruding from his torso and slowly collapsed to the ground, dead. Cries of alarm and horror rose up from the mob of townspeople still gathered tightly behind the wall of soldiers surrounding the farmhouse.
As one, the ring of armored men advanced on the building, their faces registering neither shock nor surprise, as if they had expected this result all along. A volley of arrows arced out from the small window of the cabin to thwart their approach, but the deadly projectiles bounced harmlessly off the large, heavy shields of the soldiers as they marched in perfect formation. They closed their ranks until they formed a tight circle less than a dozen feet from the walls of the townhouse.
A familiar voice came from the house. "A curse upon this traitorous town!" Gerdon screamed, "May your souls burn in the Abyss!"
The leader of the soldiers, responding to a sign from the barely visible figure of their cloaked leader in the distant