It has become a sort of a ritual.

You get up early, continue reading on an empty stomach while sitting outside in cold, maintaining a careful flow of your life force within the mind, body and soul. Eventually, you get up completely ignoring the snow pile that has gathered around your seated body, then enter a small shack where you light a happily dancing fire, allowing yourself the joy of cooking a nice, filling meal.

It's been months since you left Baldur's Gate. You sometimes wonder how the city looks after all those days citizens spent rebuilding it. You hope that most of the work is done, now that the winter has started; you would hate to see families trying to survive on the streets in such cold.

You moved out of the city with Shadowheart and Halsin, the new Selune's cleric accompanied the two of you for most of the journey back to the Moonrise Towers before partying ways just to head towards the city of Waterdeep, seeking some answers in the famous wizarding town.

You are truly grateful for Halsin. Although you consider yourself to be close with most of the so-called Heroes of the Baldur's Gate, the old and wise druid understands you in a completely different way. After all, a monk and a druid are a much closer neighbors than a githyanki fighter and a monk, or a wizard of Waterdeep and a monk. No. Halsin has the insight and the knowledge of the nature's laws beyond measure and he is never a type of person to judge.

That is why you found support of your manic plans in his embrace.

With your belly filled with delicious carrot soup full of root spices, you stand up to your feet and walk around the open fireplace, removing some of the bigger branches, throwing them away from the fire. Then, you grab your previously prepared bag and leave the shack once again. There is a heavy leather pouch placed next to the doorway and you shove it into your bag.

You glance behind your shoulder one last time. There is a high chance that this is your last time ever seeing this place. You smile to yourself, taking a great relish in the appeal of the simple hut you helped to build on those lands.

As you turn to your right, walking through the piling snow, you stop nearby one of the naked trees, taking a glance at the effuse branches spreading above your head. You reach with your hand towards a small bird house, brushing off the snow decorating the top of it.

'You will bloom soon again,' you say under your breath, then continue towards the building towering over the horizon.

Once inside, you head over to the prison, climbing down the stairs, pushing the heavy door open. Not much has changed inside of here, except for the lack of the nautiloid colony, that is. You step onto a bridge leading to a fortified tower, which once served as the heart of the prison, controlling the mechanism of each cell doors and providing a passage to the now dormant offering altar.

You enter the tower and pick up a human skull from the table, placing it on the North-East side of the bloody circle. Just like back in Devil's Fee, the skull bursts into flames and a portal to a different plane is being torn open.

You smile to yourself and step inside, just to appear in the familiar, yet changed mansion you and your team once raided.

'Tav!' you hear Hope calling to you. The door to the portal room opens with a sinister sound of the hinges and you see the cleric, looking better than ever. 'Wow, I need to get that door fixed.'

You smile and greet her kindly.
'How are you? How is Karlach and Wyll?'

'I'm great! They are currently resting, I will send them your greetings if you want.'

'That would be awesome. I missed them so much, but we might see each other again,' you say, but you aren't convinced of the words leaving your mouth.

Hope is quick to pick up on that and wraps her arms around her body, looking at you with a focused frown on her face.
'So today is the day then, huh?'

You nod.
'Yea.'

A moment of silence washes over you, interrupted only by the sound of the wind constantly swirling through Avernus.

'You don't have to do this, you know,' she says finally.

'I know. But I set my whole being into it a long time ago. It's been months,' you say plainly. 'Months full of preparations.'

'Is he even still there?' Hope asks quietly.

'Unfortunately. I managed to reach Mephistopheles only last week and he's been torturing him ever since.'

'Huh,' she says simply, not quite sure what else to add.

'Hope?'

'Yes?'

'Will I ever receive your forgiveness?' The look on your face is sincere.

You are very much aware of what the dwarf has gone through when Raphael was around, but you are now bound by a verbal oath, that you will put him back in the dirt if he ever dares to hurt her again. Or her sister. Or any of your companions for that matter. As for the rest of the people? Well, it was inevitable. You know that everyone is a master of their own fate and the devil deals are meant to appeal to mortal temptations but it is up to the mortal to decide if the deal is worth taking or not. After all, even if Raphael stays in Cania, just to eventually die by the hands of his father, a new devil will find its way to his previous hunting ground. And what is better than a devil you know? As much as it is a bittersweet situation, you are now sure that you are capable of defeating him if the need arrives again.

Hope studies your soft, concerned look for quite a while, then responds, her face relaxed, soothed out of any wrinkles.
'You had it the second you stepped through my door.'

You go to your knees, place your palms together and press your thumbs to your forehead, bowing your head before her. It is a gesture you were taught at your monastery, a gesture of appreciation for one's wisdom and compassion.

'I am in your eternal debt.'

'Do not speak of such things within these walls,' she jokes but then grabs your forearm, gently pulling you so that you will stand back on your feet. 'No more eternal debts.'

You smile and nod slowly.
'No more.'

A few moments later, the two of you disappear behind the door, heading straight to the portal to the Baldur's Gate, which takes you to the main hall of Wyrm's Rock, from where you go to the Basilisk Gate and head to the Devil's Fee.

When you meet with Helsik, everything is in order. Her portal upstairs is already prepared to take you to Cania. The two of you, as well as an anonymous source of help (you expect it to be Korrila), are in touch ever since your departure to Moonrise Towers. Helsik keeps you up to date with the state of Raphael and you often venture to the House of Hope to use Wyll's connection to Mizora to seek out guidance from her. Surprisingly, each time this takes place, she is more than willing to answer some of your questions and clarify the things you couldn't quite grasp. You suspect that she has some hidden agenda with her efforts, but you can only guess up until she herself decides it's time to reveal her plans.

'Are you dressed well? Cania is very cold, the temperature can reach up to -50 Celsius degrees,' Helsik reminds, eyeing your neat, long-sleeved black monastic clothing.

'I will maintain my Ki aura to protect the warmth inside my body. I practiced this for weeks. I know that Cania is a lot colder than our climate, but I know I will be fine.'

'Ok then. What about your offering?' she asks.

You reach to your bag, twisting it towards your belly, then you open the lid and show Helsik the gauntlets that used to belong to Gortash, Orin's dagger and a heavy leather pouch with a... different kind of trophy.

Suddenly, you spot a cloud of cinders burning next to the closed portal and you see a familiar feminine figure.

'Mizora,' you greet her with a gentle bow of your head.

'I have a favor to ask.'

'Go ahead, you've helped me a lot.'

'That's right,' she points her slim, clawed finger at you. 'I want to eavesdrop.'

You frown at her and think about it for a second. Could it be Zariel, interested in what Mephistopheles is up to? You feel yourself grasping your own chin, descending deep into thoughts.

Raphael wanted to take the Crown and with that, he would go against Zariel. You want to bust him out of the prison, so it might seem like you are trying to bring her old enemy back, but this is not the reason behind your journey at all.

You exhale slowly and nod at her.
'What does that involve?'

'I will leave my mark on you,' she says in a low, seductive tone.

'A permanent one?'

'No, pup. Don't get too excited,' she teases and approaches you, taking your arm in her hands. Her touch is surprisingly gentle and you can feel the heat of her palms as if she was touching your naked skin.

'Is it safe for you to do this?' you ask her and she gives you a blank, emotionless stare. Her hands land on your shoulder and you feel a slight pain, as if someone stuck a needle inside your body. 'Like, won't the Lord of Cania notice?'

'No,' she simply says.

'Is this working against me in any way, shape or form?'

'Endangering you? Not any more than you already endanger yourself,' she responds with a smug smile. 'Let's say that there might be something of value for me to see.'

'I thought you wanted to eavesdrop?'

'Both.'

You glance at Mizora suspiciously, but the cambion in front of you doesn't concern you at all. A place you will soon find yourself in does.

'Ready?' Helsik asks and glances at the clock. 'I can't imagine Mephistopheles allowing you to not show up on time.'

'Ready,' you lie to yourself and the two around you. Nothing can prepare you for what is about to happen. And nothing ever would. Even so, there is no coming back now.

Helsik places the last ingredient - a hardened ice shard - in one of the corners of the pentagram and the portal opens. You glance behind your shoulder and nod at Helsik and Mizora. This might very well be a 'see you soon' or your last 'goodbye'.

The second you step inside, your Ki becomes visible, covering your body with a faint, foggy aura. You find yourself in the main hall of the glacier citadel built for or by Mephistopheles himself. The hall is unlike nothing you have seen before, so tall that it makes you wonder if there is a creature big enough to reach the ceiling.

The gigantic metal gate in front of you pushes open, welcoming you in and with it comes the uncomfortable shift of icy air, gnawing at your Ki-protected skin. When the door parts entirely, you notice a slender, uncanny looking silhouette taking many small steps in order to approach you.

'Welcome to the Citadel. The master is expecting you,' the figure speaks with a quiet voice of an old man.

You bow your head before someone - something - you suspect to be a butler and follow them outside of the room in which you have appeared.

The inside of the Citadel is nothing like the House of Hope. You cannot see any furniture, any sources of light other than the hollow windows placed high above your head, letting the freezing howling wind inside the castle. It's just a long, plain corridor with ice covering its walls and a thick layer of snow spread across the floor.

The butler leads you across the entire hallway and stops at another door. Just like before, the metal gate opens and this time, you can actually see a high-quality golden carpet decorating the middle of the corridor, going all the way to the depths of the room, eventually stopping at the base of a pedestal leading to a massive ice throne.

As your eyes follow the gold path, your gaze lands on a huge devil. He is unlike anything you have seen before and certainly not someone you expected to see. Towering, nearly three meters tall; his body and spread wings seem to be enough to cover the rest of the world from your view. His skin is that of a bright crimson shade, with sharp, fiendish claws but his eyes are nothing like Raphael's. Whilst the cambion's eyes burnt with lust for power and passion, his father's iris were cold, dead, void of all feelings and terrifying to look into. You noted his handsome features, similarly sharp nose to the one of Raphael's, and a charming, but arrogant smile stretching his lips.

Mephistopheles' gaze lands on you and you feel your adrenaline spike up, feeling as if the strength left your muscles. You are quick to regain composure, shifting the anxiety into a stronger Ki aura instead.

'The hero of Baldur's Gate!' he announces, his voice echoing through the throne room, bouncing off the transparent ice pillars.

The butler stops and so do you, then descend to your knees at the bottom of the stairs leading to Mephistopheles. You bow your head and say nothing, following the tips that Haarlep gave you.

'How are you enjoying Cania? Speak.'

'It's quite unlike anything I've seen before, Lord of the Eighth,' you respond clearly, addressing him politely. 'Your palace is marvelous.'

You can hear him purr in thought, the rumbling sound vibrating the insides of your lungs.
'Hmm. I take it must be quite cold for you? Your surface level flesh must hate the temperature down here.'

'Thank you for your kindness, my lord, but I am able to remain unaffected by the atmosphere here.'

You can hear him shift from his throne; his lazy footsteps ring in your ears, as the fear slowly starts creeping back to your spine, making you want to shiver under its influence.

'You know, it has been a while since I had a chance to postally conversate with a mortal.'

You say nothing, awaiting for his verbal allowance for you to speak. You've read so many things about Mephistopheles that you know that a single mistake might cost you your head.

'I was hoping that someone of your reputation is interested in... something of value,' he continues and you can feel him slowly walking behind you, making every hair covering your body stay on alert, trying to pick up on any sort of incoming danger. 'Instead... you are only interested in the half spawn.' You close your eyes, using all of your will not to grit and grind your teeth. 'I could use a warlock of such influence. Pray tell, are you not looking for some additional skills on top of your current repertoire?'

He comes back to the front of you and you can glance at his legs. He is not wearing armor, nor any kind of metal elements for that matter. His entire body is covered in expensive wizard robes and matching, elegant leather shoes. You know that Mephistopheles is the Archdevil most famous for his magic and he certainly looks like someone troubling themselves with sorcery.

'With all due respect, Lord of Cania, I am bound by my personal vows to follow the way of the Ki. As much as your offer is very tempting and I am totally smitten by the perspective of our possible warlock pact, I must stay true to my current path,' you choose your words very carefully.

'Hmmm,' he hums again and you can feel the sound creating a weird sensation of something crawling from your ears to your shoulder pads. The tone is very rich and pleasant to ears, but the incredible cold emanating from it is beyond measure. 'Very well. We spoke about some of your gifts in exchange for the half-breed. I wish to see them.'

'Of course,' you say and push yourself a little bit further from the throne, still remaining on your knees, not daring to look up on Mephistopheles' face. With trembling fingers, you reach to the bag and slowly open the lid.

Anything can be a trigger to this devil. You pay extra attention to your movements, to the pattern of your breath, forcing yourself to withstand the discomfort of having your knees buried in ice and snow, ordering your heart to maintain a steady rhythm. Nothing is allowed to go wrong.

You reach for the Gortash's gauntlets and place them on your arms, extending them forward. 'My lord, this used to belong to a man who dared to break into your vault to steal the Crown of Karsus. He is now dead.' You can hear the fabric of his robe rustling and feel his massive hand reach for the item. Despite his crimson color of skin, there is no heat radiating off his body.

You await his further instructions, as he examines the golden, heavily decorated gauntlets with his cold, lifeless gaze.

'Next.'

You reach to your bag again and take out the soaked leather pouch.
'This is the person who helped Gortash break into your vault, master. I have managed to find some information about the second thief. He was a Bhaal-spawn and a Chosen of his to become a Slayer,' you unwrap the pouch and touch the frozen, white Dragonkin head.

'A Bhaal-spawn?' Mephistopheles accepts the head from you and watches it carefully like a statue at a museum.

You return to your previous position, bowing your head before him, ignoring the crippling pain in your bent spine. The Ki aura was enough to keep you warm, but the prolonged exposure to the glacier wasteland was slowly taking its toll on your physical health.

You don't like the silence that suddenly fell upon you and Mephistopheles and the butler - if they were still there. The howling, cold wind swirled around you, making the robes of the Archdevil dance menacingly.

'It was already dead before you cut off the head,' he says and the second you pick upon his disappointed tone, your heart sinks.

Should you say something? Should you stay quiet? Is it his observation? Does he demand an explanation?

You swallow your fears and keep quiet, awaiting his instruction, but it is not until the cut off head lands in front of you that the words leave his mouth.
'Explain, mortal. Why did you bring a trophy of someone else's hunt?'

'The Bhaal-spawn has been killed by Orin, another Chosen of Bhaal, whom I have defeated. Here is her favorite weapon,' you reach towards a dagger in your bag and extend your arms to Mephistopheles' who doesn't accept the gift. 'I simply wanted to show you the face of the second fool who dared to raid your house.'

'What about the Crown?'

'It has been destroyed during the battle with the Netherbrain, Lord of the Cania. One of my comrades decided to deliver the remnants of it to the goddess of magic, Mystra. '

He hums again, walking right next to your left side. You can feel your skin go numb just by the close proximity of the Archdevil.
'Very well. Walk with me.'