#but i have hector agree to One Single Thing and the whole party disapproves

[blackjackkent]

"Ah. The interloper..." The man's voice is a harsh basso growl; he looks up slowly from whatever strange experiments he is conducting on the bloodsoaked table in front of him. He's heavyset and imposing, with pale blue skin - not human, Hector suspects, but maybe tiefling judging by the glow of his eyes? His skin is scored with deep marks of some indeterminate sigil on both his face and chest, spattering the blue with red smears of blood.

He surveys Hector appraisingly, gaze sweeping him from head to foot. "And in one piece as well. Not an entirely unpromising specimen, for one naturally-born." He blinks thoughtfully, his head tilting to one side as if scenting something unexpected on the wind. "Though it's not all natural, is it? A touch of the divine... most curious, for a True Soul..."

Hector stiffens warily. Naturally born? It's already clear that this man, whoever he is, has dabbled in necromancy - even if it weren't obvious from the reconstituted soldiers they encountered outside, it would be obvious now from the group of servant ghouls pacing this chamber and the hulking, skull-faced behemoth standing in the corner.

But is he implying that he himself is undead?

And the crack about Selune's blessing on them, the moniker of "True Soul"...this man knows far more about them than they do about him, and that makes Hector tremendously uncomfortable. But they are not being outright attacked, and that's something at this point.

"Naturally-born?" he says carefully. "That's a strange thing to hold against someone."

"Not so," the man says smoothly with a dismissive shrug. "Womb births are such *imprecise* things... There's always room for improvement when it comes to the flesh. My creations..." He gestures at the enormous creature standing at his back. "...are more than a sum of their parts."

Hector's gaze follows the gesture, taking in the shambling skeletons walking the room. "Your creations?" he says. "Mindless undead minions, from what I've seen." He can't help a slight grimace of distaste.

The man smiles broadly, his glowing eyes shining with something that might be exuberance - or madness. "They are mere sketches compared to my masterwork!" he barks. "That would leave you in awe, should you be fortunate enough to bear witness."

That I sincerely doubt, Hector thinks sardonically. "Who *are* you?" he demands, feeling suddenly extremely tired. Around every corner in this horrible wasteland, some new madman...

The stranger's expression hardens abruptly. "You are a True Soul," he snaps. "There is no excuse for you to not recognize your betters."

Hector feels an unpleasant squirm behind his eye and winces. Of course - this is the first test, then. He knew he would be forced into this deception upon arrival at Moonrise, but he did not expect it here. I am a True Soul, he reminds himself firmly. At least as far as this fellow is concerned.

"But never mind," the man goes on airily. "Your potential may outweigh your ignorance. I am Balthazar - Chief Advisor to General Thorm, and entrusted with a mission of utmost importance. Do you know what is at stake here?"

He fixes Hector with a piercing gaze, and Hector feels a chill run through his marrow. Based on what Jaheira said, Thorm is the leader of the Absolutists, which means this Balthazar is their second-in-command. They have wandered into an extremely dangerous situation without realizing it.

Balthazar... he's heard that name before.

[MONK][HISTORY] You're sure you've read of a notable Balthazar before... But where?

Narrator: You remember an ancient scroll rescued from an Amkethran monastery. It spoke of Balthazar, the monastic order's leader. Specifically, it recorded his death.

"Balthazar," Hector says, warming a little to the discussion as it shifts back into his own area of knowledge. "I heard of a monk by that name once. He died a long time ago."

"Oh, him?" Balthazar scoffs. "Yes, I decided to take his name for myself - after taking his rib bones. Suits me better, I think." His expression hardens. "But enough idle chatter. Keep to the matter at hand. You do know what's at stake here, yes?"

(A/N: Eyyy, BG2 reference! Shoutout to @rhysintherain for making this connection before I did; I totally forgot the character in BG2 was named Balthazar. :D Seems as if, at least for the moment, we're meant to believe this is not him, though.)

This is a delicate moment; to reveal his ignorance might be to shatter open the whole fragile deception, but they need information desperately. "Enlighten me," Hector says, doing his best impression of an unconcerned, even bored listener.

"There is a relic here," Balthazar intones, his voice taking on a religious, fanatical edge. "One which General Thorm desires. No - *needs.* I will retrieve it for him."

He leans forward over the stone slab in front of him; a sharp scent of blood cuts the air as he nears Hector's face. "And you will help me. Ignorant you may be, but you've shown some prowess in scouting and combat by making it this far."

Narrator: This necromancer has Ketheric's trust. Helping him could be just what you need to gain access to the man himself.

All of Hector's self-discipline is required to keep him from wrinkling his nose in disgust - both at the smell and the task ahead of him. "So you need my help," he says evenly. "What would I have to do?"

"I do not *need* you, or your help," the necromancer snaps disdainfully. "But you are here in spite of that, so I may as well make use of you." He gestures past Hector towards the hallway from which he came. "The relic is close, but the way is barred and Shar's dead are...uncooperative." He scowls. "Clear the path for me - by blade, cunning, or whatever it takes. I will remain here until you have succeeded - or fallen."

"I'd trust this gasbag about as far as I can throw him - which isn't far," Shadowheart mutters sardonically. "But perhaps better to play along, for now."

For once, Hector and Shadowheart's views on the situation are precisely aligned.

"What exactly will you be doing while I'm out risking myself?" Hector asks, still attempting to maintain an air of casual disinterest.

Balthazar smirks. "My creations need tending to - not that it's any of your concern." He gestures down at the table, which is spread with an array of blood-soaked bones.

"This one's broken," he says with some relish. "He once tormented me as a youth, lifetimes ago. Now he serves me - forever. No rest for you, Mikan...not until I am satisfied."

Hector is starting to feel faintly ill. "I'll see what I can do," he mutters hoarsely, and begins to back out of the room.

Balthazar smiles coldly. "Do not fail me...or you can share Mikan's fate..."