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Golbraith awoke with a start. Surely he had just been talking to Abdel? Hadn't he?
An infernal hammering came from the direction of his door. He stretched frozen limbs and made his way unsteadily downstairs. Cautiously, he peered outside.
A blond human girl bounded in, beaming up at him.
"Hello! I want to be a monster hunter, like you. My mum says you were the bestest monster hunter ever. She says you could teach me a thing or two."
"So, who is your mother?" he enquired, slightly dumbstruck.
"Jaheira. But she's in the Shadowlands. Rion says she isn't coming back."
Memories scattered, rice spilt across the floor. But the essence of himself, the hunter of monsters - that remained.
"Tell me about illithids," Fig demanded.
"First, most importantly, fight with allies. Illithids rely on illusions, so friends are vital to split their concentration."
The girl nodded, serious and focused.
"Secondly, stay away from their front. Those tentacles can cause all kinds of trouble. A swift knife in the back of the neck is far more effective than some flashy sword waving out front."
"Jaheira said it's okay to be sneaky if you live to fight another day."
This girl had potential.
Now, where was he? Ah, yes, training. Golbraith peered at the child in front of him. Scrawny thing, no muscle.
"You got a sword, girl?"
Fig offered up the wooden stick she had been using.
"No, that won't do. Here, follow me."
A descent into the cellar, mind still recalling how to pick through the myriad maze of traps.
A careful selection. "Try this for weight?"
Fig tested the balance, recalling how Jaheira did the same. Slightly heavy, but she was growing.
Golbraith nodded, satisfied. "You can keep that one. Was my son's once." He trailed off, lost in memory.
Fig rifled through the library at home until she found a blank book. This would be her manual, a record of everything Golbraith taught her. Carefully, she lettered 'Battle Plans' on the cover.
"What in Faerun do you think you're doing?" sniffed Rion, eyeing the sword at Fig's hip.
"Learning to fight, obviously. Someone needs to guard the house while you're off sniffing around that Geraldus boy," Fig teased.
Rion flushed angrily and Jord sniggered in the corner. "Come on, sis, I'll help you. I'm certain we have an old training dummy; we can set it up on the porch."
Golbraith watched proudly as Fig's form improved. He had missed having someone to train once his son had taken over the adventuring. Was this his granddaughter? He couldn't quite remember, but it must be, surely?
"Always remember, if they can't see you then they can't mess with your mind," he advised. "Worst day of my life - I slipped in that nasty silver stuff they use for blood. Foul metallic stench to it. Afore I could get up, the other illithid was on me. If it wasn't for Abdel, I'd have been a goner, but my head's not been right since.
A crash from the study, a muffled yelp from Jord. Fig charged in behind Rion, sword drawn.
She looked at her mother and the battered collection of adventurers descending into the study. "Commander! You're in trouble!"
"No, you're in trouble, cub. What are you doing with a sword?"
"Someone has to protect the house!"
"This is true, but it should not need to be you!"
Jaheira looked over her head at Jord and Rion. "I specifically asked you to keep the children safe and instead they're learning swordplay?"
"Things changed in your absence, mother - we all need defence skills now."
Fig was on watch, view out over the alley. Trying not to worry about Jaheira's brain battle above. A flickering movement caught her eye.
Rion, face contorted in a rictus of fear, dragged step-by-step towards a mindflayer. Fig didn't hesitate, scrambling on top of a nearby box, launching herself, sword outstretched, piercing the neck in a silvery spray of gore. The illithid dropped in a tentacular puddle.
Rion, sagging, her strings cut, crying in relief as Fig ran towards her. Not even a snide remark about covering her in blood.
A colossal reverberation as the brain crashed into the harbour.
"The brain is dead, we won!" crowed Fig, bringing Golbraith the news. She hadn't even brought her sword today.
"I may not have all my memories any more, but I know evil when I see it, girl. You mark my words, the biggest monster is the one that rules this city now, and those who act in his name are no better than ravaging gnolls." Golbraith slammed his sword down on the edge of the table, making Fig jump.
"The brain may be gone, but them who brought it here still exist, hiding behind falsehoods. Get back to your practice!"
"Geraldus, you know how Jaheira says everyone should fight for good?" asked Fig, casually.
"Of course. We must all do our part, working against villany wherever we find it," Geraldus agreed.
"Then why won't Jaheira let me fight?"
"The rest of that line reads 'being ever mindful of the consequences.' Jaheira has lost so much. She does not wish to also lose you." Geraldus thought for a moment. "However, I may have an idea."
"An idea?" asked Rion, walking in.
"A rudimentary sword practice class, for the Harper kids. A way to start training those who will eventually replace us."
Smoke still drifts in the air from the aftermath of the Foundry explosion, catching in Fig's throat.
The buzz of the angry crowd draws her in like gravity. Fear-stench, tang of anger, leaden scent of deep gnomes rushing past the house. Tieflings stream out from the sewers, intermingling with Ironhands, Gondians, Guild rats and stallholders. All the little people who have suddenly had enough.
Fig catches glimpses of Harper mages, dotted strategically throughout the crowd. She rolls her eyes when she spots Rion, dressed as a dockworker.
The crowd rolls uphill, past the gallows. No time for thought, only action.