Short Story - The Watcher *Warning Spoilers!*
Battlehamster
Member Posts: 298
(Early events in this story take place concurrently alongside those in BG while the bulk takes place afterwards, also there is a pretty decent spoiler alert so don't read unless you have played through the game already or don't care if you get a big chunk of the story!)
My greatest regret was that I had chosen to do nothing while others chose to fight. My name is Theron. I was an agent for the Harpers. It was my job to remain in the shadows. To watch. To listen, but to never become involved. My time came after and not before. But it was the time before which would ultimately define what would come after.
My story, it would seem would begin where many did during this troubled time - the outskirts of the ancient fortress of Candlekeep. There I was assigned to watch a member of the Iron Throne whom we believed responsible for turmoil and upsetting the balance of power in our land. Never in my wildest dreams had I ever imagined the man needlessly attacking a child and his father. After all, with his great wealth and growing influence it seemed to cause more harm than good. What was the point? There was no foreseeable instance where this man could seemingly gain anything from his bout of unrestrained rage. Expecting to follow him into the great library to glean insight to what knowledge the man sought which may shed light on this incident I was most surprised when he simply turned around. There was no anger, no frustration or anything. It was as though things continued to move according to his plan whatever that may be. In my struggle to understand the machinations of the man in the armor, I had failed to notice the pack of wolves that had surrounded me from behind. I quickly dispatched them but shortly after lost my track. It was as though he had been whisked away by some powerful magic. In frustration I violently pulled the blade out of the cranium of one of the dead wolves.
It was at that moment a man appeared from seemingly nowhere.
"Lose something?"
"Elminster, old friend how have you been?"
"As best as one can be in the calm before the storm."
"How hast thou been? I see mayhaps some transgressing of the indigenous life?"
"Something of that sort. What have you been up to lately? Why are you out here?"
"Lately? I have been observing the sanity of strangers it seems which perhaps calls into question my own."
"Enigmatic as ever I see."
"Ah, thine words cut like the deepest blade. Nay, I am here on official business. I suspect business similar to thine own work.
"Harper work? I thought you had left our merry little band?"
"Ah, that I did. It would seem greater powers bring me here however. It is verily more than circumstance which has brought me here before you. It would seem that events which are about to transpire here are greater than myself. I need people such as yourself to stand in defense of the realms. Soon we will all be in danger and the lives of mortals such as ourselves will hang together only by the thinnest thread. Only those whose coin is on edge will be able to fight the coming darkness."
"Elminster you terrify me. I've known you for several years now and I've never seen you act this way. What is it that troubles you?"
"Alas, I can answer no more questions. For now you must travel to the city of Nashkell. There you must seek out the artist named Prism."
"Elminster I don't understand why do-"
"Theron, my friend. You need to trust me. I know thy mission. This task I give thee will satisfy not only those you serve but yourself as well. Go, make haste."
At that moment I heard a rustling in the bushes. Out of reflex I turned to look only to see nothing. When I turned back to speak again to the archmage, he had vanished as was his way. Left with no leads and little direction, what choice did I have but to take his lead? I headed south to the town of Nashkell with only the name Prism echoing in my mind.
***
After several days of travelling I finally arrived in the town of Nashkel. It seemed as though the recent area had been plagued with their defective iron mines. I thought this strange considering the recent activity of the Zhentarim in other regions. It had to be some sort of rogue criminal operating outside the purview of anyone else but for what purpose? With Elminster's words still echoing in my head I began to search the town for this "Prism". After speaking to a cheery fellow by the name of Volo I determined that Prism was an artist who had recently stolen a few gemstones for some pet project. Needless to say, I became even more confused and couldn't find a connection between this rogue artist and Sarevok, let alone the Iron Throne. After about a day or two of tracking I finally located the artist only to find a group of adventurers had beaten me to him. Watching from the shadows and a fair distance away I observed them until another figure approached the group. After a short dialogue, whatever the disagreement was about quickly turned to blades resulting in the death of the lone man, but not before he had inflicted significant damage to the party as well as the artist.
On his death-roes I could hear the artist shout but one word to the heavens.
"ELLESIME!"
I didn't understand the relevance of the incident at the time or how significant that one word would become in time. All I could think of at that moment was that the maddened wizard had sent me on a fools errand. With little other options I followed the small adventuring party through the infected mines.
***
Kobolds. Can't say I saw that coming. Lacking any arcane or scientific capability I couldn't fathom how the little buggers had managed to infect a mine, let alone somehow bring a region to its knees without some sort of outside intervention. For the most part, I found the the ill-developed imps in a pool of their own blood and entrails though occasionally one would find his way to me, only to gain an extra orifice from a casual arrow shot. Kobolds are surprisingly clean kills when hit in the head. Its likely from their lack of brain matter.
My greatest regret was that I had chosen to do nothing while others chose to fight. My name is Theron. I was an agent for the Harpers. It was my job to remain in the shadows. To watch. To listen, but to never become involved. My time came after and not before. But it was the time before which would ultimately define what would come after.
My story, it would seem would begin where many did during this troubled time - the outskirts of the ancient fortress of Candlekeep. There I was assigned to watch a member of the Iron Throne whom we believed responsible for turmoil and upsetting the balance of power in our land. Never in my wildest dreams had I ever imagined the man needlessly attacking a child and his father. After all, with his great wealth and growing influence it seemed to cause more harm than good. What was the point? There was no foreseeable instance where this man could seemingly gain anything from his bout of unrestrained rage. Expecting to follow him into the great library to glean insight to what knowledge the man sought which may shed light on this incident I was most surprised when he simply turned around. There was no anger, no frustration or anything. It was as though things continued to move according to his plan whatever that may be. In my struggle to understand the machinations of the man in the armor, I had failed to notice the pack of wolves that had surrounded me from behind. I quickly dispatched them but shortly after lost my track. It was as though he had been whisked away by some powerful magic. In frustration I violently pulled the blade out of the cranium of one of the dead wolves.
It was at that moment a man appeared from seemingly nowhere.
"Lose something?"
"Elminster, old friend how have you been?"
"As best as one can be in the calm before the storm."
"How hast thou been? I see mayhaps some transgressing of the indigenous life?"
"Something of that sort. What have you been up to lately? Why are you out here?"
"Lately? I have been observing the sanity of strangers it seems which perhaps calls into question my own."
"Enigmatic as ever I see."
"Ah, thine words cut like the deepest blade. Nay, I am here on official business. I suspect business similar to thine own work.
"Harper work? I thought you had left our merry little band?"
"Ah, that I did. It would seem greater powers bring me here however. It is verily more than circumstance which has brought me here before you. It would seem that events which are about to transpire here are greater than myself. I need people such as yourself to stand in defense of the realms. Soon we will all be in danger and the lives of mortals such as ourselves will hang together only by the thinnest thread. Only those whose coin is on edge will be able to fight the coming darkness."
"Elminster you terrify me. I've known you for several years now and I've never seen you act this way. What is it that troubles you?"
"Alas, I can answer no more questions. For now you must travel to the city of Nashkell. There you must seek out the artist named Prism."
"Elminster I don't understand why do-"
"Theron, my friend. You need to trust me. I know thy mission. This task I give thee will satisfy not only those you serve but yourself as well. Go, make haste."
At that moment I heard a rustling in the bushes. Out of reflex I turned to look only to see nothing. When I turned back to speak again to the archmage, he had vanished as was his way. Left with no leads and little direction, what choice did I have but to take his lead? I headed south to the town of Nashkell with only the name Prism echoing in my mind.
***
After several days of travelling I finally arrived in the town of Nashkel. It seemed as though the recent area had been plagued with their defective iron mines. I thought this strange considering the recent activity of the Zhentarim in other regions. It had to be some sort of rogue criminal operating outside the purview of anyone else but for what purpose? With Elminster's words still echoing in my head I began to search the town for this "Prism". After speaking to a cheery fellow by the name of Volo I determined that Prism was an artist who had recently stolen a few gemstones for some pet project. Needless to say, I became even more confused and couldn't find a connection between this rogue artist and Sarevok, let alone the Iron Throne. After about a day or two of tracking I finally located the artist only to find a group of adventurers had beaten me to him. Watching from the shadows and a fair distance away I observed them until another figure approached the group. After a short dialogue, whatever the disagreement was about quickly turned to blades resulting in the death of the lone man, but not before he had inflicted significant damage to the party as well as the artist.
On his death-roes I could hear the artist shout but one word to the heavens.
"ELLESIME!"
I didn't understand the relevance of the incident at the time or how significant that one word would become in time. All I could think of at that moment was that the maddened wizard had sent me on a fools errand. With little other options I followed the small adventuring party through the infected mines.
***
Kobolds. Can't say I saw that coming. Lacking any arcane or scientific capability I couldn't fathom how the little buggers had managed to infect a mine, let alone somehow bring a region to its knees without some sort of outside intervention. For the most part, I found the the ill-developed imps in a pool of their own blood and entrails though occasionally one would find his way to me, only to gain an extra orifice from a casual arrow shot. Kobolds are surprisingly clean kills when hit in the head. Its likely from their lack of brain matter.
Post edited by Battlehamster on
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