A bunch of chapters.
rufus_hobart
Member Posts: 490
Or y'know, one to start with. Or half of one. Whichever. Having gained immense pleasure from reading others recent playthrough postings and novelisations, I thought I might as well throw my efforts in as well. So this is this. Overly long, no doubt and irritatingly focused on the wrong things but it amused me writing it, there are several installments finished, a few more outlined and the rest is kinda vague in most parts so far. The original save game it was based off has sadly gone to heaven so I'll have to start it again to progress much further for the requisite details to flesh out my character's story. But without too much more rambling, here's Ms. Laisha Lapari, Wild Mage of Candlekeep.
An imposingly tall building stands towering over a rainy city far, far from the library of Candlekeep. Lightning flashes in the sky. Someone crawls through a door - a man, clad in ill fitting, mismatched armour - out onto a rooftop...it crashes open behind him. He's being stalked. A huge, armoured demonic figure, immensely strong strides through, implacable, unstoppable.
“I will be the last,” it growls as it crushes the poor soul's windpipe. “And you will go first!”
And the young half-elf maiden Laisha Lapari wakes with a scream, a thousand leagues to the south, as the man's body is hurled from the rooftops to land broken on the cobblestones below, his lifeblood draining away to the city sewers.
From the end of her bed a white shape uncurled itself, yellow eyes glowing malevolently at the shaking girl as it padded up the bed to her head.
“What is it now, woman? Your screams are quite enough to wake the dead! My napping is suffering from your constant twitching and moaning in the night.”
Hanu, her feline familiar, twitched his tail irritably, then, his action belying his harsh words, started to lick the girl's face.
“I'm sorry, Hanu,” Laisha apologised, her fear and tension melting away at the soothing touch of the cat's tongue. “It's ridiculous. I'm 20 years old, and still having nightmares.”
Hanu blinked his yellow eyes, then moved the attentions of his tongue from his wizard's face to his impeccably clean paws.
“Is it your magics again?” he quizzed her. “How many times can you blame yourself for squirrelizing that dreadful boy? He fully deserved it, as you well know. Plus, he was very much fun to pursue around the grounds.” Hanu's eyes gleamed wickedly, and Laisha couldn't quite stifle a giggle from the memory of her wild magicks going astray once more, this time on a bratty apprentice to a visiting wizard.
“No, it wasn't that, it was those...other dreams. The feeling that's there's something dark, something monstrous coming...”
Hanu rolled his eyes. “You bipeds. Always finding catastrophe in every flap of a butterfly's wings.” His cleaning ritual seemingly completed, he curled back up near Laisha and closed his eyes, a cocked ear her only clue that he was still paying attention.
“Imoen thinks it could be related to my wild magic,” Laisha offered tentatively, as her cat sniffed.
“She's a human. She thinks the sun coming up each morning is due to magic.”
“Oh, must you be so grumpy, fuzzball?” Laisha laughed, scruffing up the cat and rolling him onto his back to scratch at his belly.
Hanu flexed his claws and bared his teeth mock ferociously, but his purring belied his show of displeasure.
“And what of Gorion?” he asked, stretching out to his full length, “have you talked to your father lately about your nightmares?”
Laisha scowled .
“Gorion has had precious little to say about anything to me lately. Dark glances and hurried brush-offs are all I seem to get from him these these days. Perhaps I'm finally growing up too fast for him, despite all his best efforts.”
Hanu's nose twitched.
“He certainly wasn't overjoyed at your fraternising with that group of Sharessan clerics who came the other month to pore over the Scrolls of Xee, was he?”
The cat's lips stretched into a toothy grin.
“And whose fault was that, Hanu? You're the one who insisted we go and talk to them, remember?”
“I thought you should feel the embrace of the Feline Huntress, since you were given the chance,” the cat yawned. “She seemed to suit your...nature, as close to cat-like as an imperfect being such as youself can get. Why else would I have come to your childish call.”
Laisha smiled. That was high praise indeed coming from her haughty cat familiar. Her memories of the nightmares subsiding, she thought she should get moving soon. Gorion would undoubtedly send an invisible messenger in to toss her out of bed if she didn't...Or Winthrop would start bellowing for her to help clean his inn...Or even worse, they'd set Imoen onto her with a dozen of her little pranks!
After coaxing Hanu out of bed with the promise of breakfast, Laisha wandered down and out into the grounds of the Candlekeep library where she had been raised for most of the last 20 years. The Citadel of Candlekeep towered over the Sea of Swords, and housed the finest and most comprehensive collection of writings on the face of Faerun. The imposing fortress was kept in strict isolation from the intrigues that plagued the rest of the Forgotten Realms. The former home of Alaundo the Seer was secluded and highly regimented, and to Laisha, it was the only home she'd ever known. The sage Gorion had taken her under his wing here, despite her being an orphan, entertaining and tutoring her in equal measure with a thousand tales of lore involving heroes and monsters, lovers and infidels, battles and tragedies. Her own past, however, was left largely untold. All she knew of her mother was that she had been a half-elvish maiden from the great city of Silverymoon, and a friend of Gorion's. Of her father, she knew nothing at all.
Inspired by Gorion's vast knowledge of the magical arts, Laisha had made especially productive use of the library. She had pored over the treasures of magical lore housed within its walls. Gorion had instructed her in the basics, and was impressed by her raw ability, but was concerned by some of the side effects that manifested itself from time to time. Despite her happiness with her simple life in Candlekeep, some part of the young half-elf longed to test her powers beyond the guarded walls of the library, and Gorion himself had told her he would soon take her on a journey, something her adventurous spirit looked very much forward to. Laisha yawned as Hanu looked up inquisitively.
“So what monotonous drudgery do the monks have you doing today?” the cat asked idly, his slitted eyes watching a fluttering insect nearby.
“This morn I am to meet Jondalar for staff training. You know he wants me to keep up my quarterstaff techniques once a tenday. He insists that magic skill by itself is not enough to defend myself. Even after that time where I accidently turned his staff into a serpent.” she grinned ruefully.
Hanu sniffed and shook his head, simply muttering “humans” as if it was a curse.
An imposingly tall building stands towering over a rainy city far, far from the library of Candlekeep. Lightning flashes in the sky. Someone crawls through a door - a man, clad in ill fitting, mismatched armour - out onto a rooftop...it crashes open behind him. He's being stalked. A huge, armoured demonic figure, immensely strong strides through, implacable, unstoppable.
“I will be the last,” it growls as it crushes the poor soul's windpipe. “And you will go first!”
And the young half-elf maiden Laisha Lapari wakes with a scream, a thousand leagues to the south, as the man's body is hurled from the rooftops to land broken on the cobblestones below, his lifeblood draining away to the city sewers.
From the end of her bed a white shape uncurled itself, yellow eyes glowing malevolently at the shaking girl as it padded up the bed to her head.
“What is it now, woman? Your screams are quite enough to wake the dead! My napping is suffering from your constant twitching and moaning in the night.”
Hanu, her feline familiar, twitched his tail irritably, then, his action belying his harsh words, started to lick the girl's face.
“I'm sorry, Hanu,” Laisha apologised, her fear and tension melting away at the soothing touch of the cat's tongue. “It's ridiculous. I'm 20 years old, and still having nightmares.”
Hanu blinked his yellow eyes, then moved the attentions of his tongue from his wizard's face to his impeccably clean paws.
“Is it your magics again?” he quizzed her. “How many times can you blame yourself for squirrelizing that dreadful boy? He fully deserved it, as you well know. Plus, he was very much fun to pursue around the grounds.” Hanu's eyes gleamed wickedly, and Laisha couldn't quite stifle a giggle from the memory of her wild magicks going astray once more, this time on a bratty apprentice to a visiting wizard.
“No, it wasn't that, it was those...other dreams. The feeling that's there's something dark, something monstrous coming...”
Hanu rolled his eyes. “You bipeds. Always finding catastrophe in every flap of a butterfly's wings.” His cleaning ritual seemingly completed, he curled back up near Laisha and closed his eyes, a cocked ear her only clue that he was still paying attention.
“Imoen thinks it could be related to my wild magic,” Laisha offered tentatively, as her cat sniffed.
“She's a human. She thinks the sun coming up each morning is due to magic.”
“Oh, must you be so grumpy, fuzzball?” Laisha laughed, scruffing up the cat and rolling him onto his back to scratch at his belly.
Hanu flexed his claws and bared his teeth mock ferociously, but his purring belied his show of displeasure.
“And what of Gorion?” he asked, stretching out to his full length, “have you talked to your father lately about your nightmares?”
Laisha scowled .
“Gorion has had precious little to say about anything to me lately. Dark glances and hurried brush-offs are all I seem to get from him these these days. Perhaps I'm finally growing up too fast for him, despite all his best efforts.”
Hanu's nose twitched.
“He certainly wasn't overjoyed at your fraternising with that group of Sharessan clerics who came the other month to pore over the Scrolls of Xee, was he?”
The cat's lips stretched into a toothy grin.
“And whose fault was that, Hanu? You're the one who insisted we go and talk to them, remember?”
“I thought you should feel the embrace of the Feline Huntress, since you were given the chance,” the cat yawned. “She seemed to suit your...nature, as close to cat-like as an imperfect being such as youself can get. Why else would I have come to your childish call.”
Laisha smiled. That was high praise indeed coming from her haughty cat familiar. Her memories of the nightmares subsiding, she thought she should get moving soon. Gorion would undoubtedly send an invisible messenger in to toss her out of bed if she didn't...Or Winthrop would start bellowing for her to help clean his inn...Or even worse, they'd set Imoen onto her with a dozen of her little pranks!
After coaxing Hanu out of bed with the promise of breakfast, Laisha wandered down and out into the grounds of the Candlekeep library where she had been raised for most of the last 20 years. The Citadel of Candlekeep towered over the Sea of Swords, and housed the finest and most comprehensive collection of writings on the face of Faerun. The imposing fortress was kept in strict isolation from the intrigues that plagued the rest of the Forgotten Realms. The former home of Alaundo the Seer was secluded and highly regimented, and to Laisha, it was the only home she'd ever known. The sage Gorion had taken her under his wing here, despite her being an orphan, entertaining and tutoring her in equal measure with a thousand tales of lore involving heroes and monsters, lovers and infidels, battles and tragedies. Her own past, however, was left largely untold. All she knew of her mother was that she had been a half-elvish maiden from the great city of Silverymoon, and a friend of Gorion's. Of her father, she knew nothing at all.
Inspired by Gorion's vast knowledge of the magical arts, Laisha had made especially productive use of the library. She had pored over the treasures of magical lore housed within its walls. Gorion had instructed her in the basics, and was impressed by her raw ability, but was concerned by some of the side effects that manifested itself from time to time. Despite her happiness with her simple life in Candlekeep, some part of the young half-elf longed to test her powers beyond the guarded walls of the library, and Gorion himself had told her he would soon take her on a journey, something her adventurous spirit looked very much forward to. Laisha yawned as Hanu looked up inquisitively.
“So what monotonous drudgery do the monks have you doing today?” the cat asked idly, his slitted eyes watching a fluttering insect nearby.
“This morn I am to meet Jondalar for staff training. You know he wants me to keep up my quarterstaff techniques once a tenday. He insists that magic skill by itself is not enough to defend myself. Even after that time where I accidently turned his staff into a serpent.” she grinned ruefully.
Hanu sniffed and shook his head, simply muttering “humans” as if it was a curse.
9
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On her way to the training area she passed the stables where the farmhand Dreppin was whistling cheerfully.
“Nice day, ain't it, Miss.” he called, nodding his head to the half-elf.
“How's Nessa doing today?” Laisha asked, looking over at Dreppin's favourite bovine.
The farmhand sighed.
“Not the best, Laisha, she's not enjoyin' the day, her bein' sick an' all. She's the worst I've seen her since she...dropped in on us.”
Laisha grinned. Nessa had been a very unexpected side effect of a wild surge when she had been attempting to cast a sleep spell so she and Imoen could sneak past the guards after curfew. Instead of setting the Watchers snoring, a surprised cow had come falling from the sky, luckily landing on a large pile of hay, much to the shock of everyone, and the cow herself. Dreppin had quickly taken to the bovine, naming her Nessa, and Laisha still had a soft spot for the beast, feeling a sense of pride and creation in her appearance.
“I think Hull has a stash of potions to cure his hangovers. I'm sure he won't mind if I borrow one” the half-elf grinned.
Dreppin snorted.
“That Hull stayed up drinkin' last night and got hauled outta bed to man th' gates early this morning. I don' think he'll be in the mood t' give ya anythin'!”
Oh, don't you worry about Hull. Just leave him to me.” Laisha winked confidently. I'll have a word to him after Jondalar's through with me.”
She trotted off then, Hanu at her heels, and saw Jondalar waiting at the training grounds.
“Hey there, Laisha! I hope you brought your staff!”
Laisha rolled her eyes, brandishing the length of stout oak. “What does this look like, a wand?”
“With your wonky magics, I wouldn't be at all surprised. Now come at me!” the weapons master laughed, seeing the scowl darken the girl's face, and the two began to spar.
Jondalar grinned as he thrusted and parried, pleased with the improvements the spirited girl had made over their sessions. She could barely lift the staff at first, now he saw she wielded it with some skill and technique, and her speed and agility made her a constantly moving target.
“I'm going to test you now, girl. Are you ready?”
“I'm always ready for you, Jon.” the girl puffed.
Jondalar grinned, and made a quick gesture with his hand. From behind the sparring pair, a bowman stepped out from the bushes, aimed, and fired a blunted arrow straight at the young mage's back.
Jon watched in astonishment as, without even turning, Laisha muttered a few words and waved a hand negligently, sending the buzzing arrow harmlessly off into the wall of the storehouse. Without pausing, she sent her quarterstaff low, smacking Jondalar's shin, making him wince, then crowed triumphantly.
“Told you I was ready, didn't I?”
“You did good, kid,” Jondalar agreed, rubbing his reddened shin, “especially after Erik started firing those arrows at ya. I'm sure your father would be proud.”
“So can I go now?” Laisha asked with a smile. “Has the weakling mage proved herself enough to the mighty warrior?”
She laughed and danced nimbly out of reach of the cuff that was aimed for her head.
“I have things to do!” she called back as she scarpered off. “Things to do with books, and study. Meatheads like you wouldn't understand!”
Laisha took her leave, spying Hull manning the gates, looking all manner of disgruntled in masmatched armour and conspicuously unarmed. She sidled up to him with a sly smile.
“Hiya Hull. How's it hanging?”
The burly man flushed, and Laisha laughed.
“Hey kid.” the gate guard sighed. I woke late this morning and left my sword in the barracks before going on duty. If you want to get it for me, it's in the chest at the foot of my bed.”
Laisha smiled winsomely.
“Of course, Hull. I'm always eager to get my hands on your sword, you know that.”
The guard flushed deeper, and she beamed. Her tenday spent with the Sharessans had proven most interesting, and Laisha had discovered the side of her that urged her to seek out pleasure in all its forms. The taciturn guard had been the unsuspecting recipient of her desires, and since then the half-elf loved nothing more than to tease him, seeing a hitherto unsuspected soft side hidden beneath his gruff and plain exterior.
“Well allright, be off. Quick now, before the Gatewarden catches me without it!”
“I'll be right back,” Laisha grinned “Don't miss me too much!”
She threw open the door of the barracks with a respounding bang, and called out cheerfully,
“Goooooooood Morning, gentlemen!”
The only response she got was a long, drawn out moan from the darkened room. Her low level infravision kicked in, and she spied a guard she knew well, Fuller, curled up in his bed, cradling his head.
“Ugh, what a mead filled night,” Fuller moaned as he sat up, squinting at Laisha,“that Hull is just too much. Poor sap had to go man the gate this morning too. I don't know how he does it. What can I do for you, anyways?”
“Hull left his sword in here, when you rushed him off to man the gate. I thought I'd be nice and fetch it for him.”
“Well aren't you just a little saint, then?” Fuller groaned. “His bed's off on the right ha...”
“Oh I know very well where Hull's bed is,” Laisha grinned, drawing a muffled snort from the guard.
She drew out the heavy sword from the chest at the end of his bed, and snaffled a potion for Nessa as well. On her way out, Fuller spoke out from under his blanket.
“Since you're being so damn helpful, little girl, howsabout nicking up to Winthrop at the Inn and buying a quarrel of crossbow bolts for me. I'll reimburse you...Oh very well, there'll be a few coins in it for you, too, so you can stop giving me that look.”
Smirking to herself, Laisha slammed the door shut behind her, grinning at Fuller's anguished cry from inside. She headed back to the cattle pens and tossed Dreppin the antidote she'd found in Hull's chest.
“Heh. Yer a wonder, you are. Stick with me and we'll go far,” Dreppin beamed happily as he poured the thick, viscous liquid down Nessa's throat. “Well, okay, stick with me and we'd prob'ly never leave the walls of Candlekeep, would we.”
He looked at the young half-elf critically, garbed as she was in her robes.
“Hmm, good thing you ain't wearin' none of that metal armour though, as I hear that the bandits out there would just as soon kill ya as look at ya to get it off your back. I just hope this whole iron crisis business is wrapped up soon.”
Laisha yawned. Every visitor these days seemed to have something to say about this so called “crisis” that had struck the Sword Coast, but her life was magic and books, not metal and mining, so she had paid very little attention to anything that was said, finding it all rather dreary. As Dreppin threatened to keep ruminating on his half formed ideas about the world outside, she made her excuses and headed back to Hull. On the way, she was accosted by the small, tough dwarven storemaster Reevor who stopped her in her tracks with one muscled hand.
“Oy, Missy! I thought I asked you to clean the rats out of my storeroom yesterday, already. Hop to it! Get in there!” He gave her a whack with the flat of his axe and she yelped, muttering curses under her breath.
“Hanu! I thought you were going to take care of those rats for me! What happened?” she quizzed her familiar who met her stare with a blank look.
“Oh yes. That. I ventured in, but one of the other cats was in a...friendly mood. I put my own priorities first.” the cat sniffed with an air of self satisfaction.
Laisha tried to hide her smile.
“Hanu!!”
“What?” her cat retorted. “I seem to remember you taking a similar line with your own entertainments when the mood strikes you.”
Laisha flushed guiltily, and urged her cat into the store.
“Come on, make yourself useful and get some breakfast!”
She smiled as she watched her predatory cat go to work, terrorizing the mice running rampart through the stores, until the last futile squeak had being uttered.
Up in the loft, she heard a rustling, and Hanu turned, back arched, fur raised and hissed.
“That's one big rat left up there!” Laisha called out, and heard a girlish laugh in replay.
“Heya! It's just me, Imoen! Don't set me on fire or set that darn magic cat onto me!” the young girl called out, and swung down to land soundlessly in front of the mage.
“What are you doing hiding away up there, Im?” Laisha laughed as she hugged the girl she'd grown up with.
“Counting my pretties!” the young thief grinned, opening her palm to show a silver necklace and ring.
“That Calishite wizard's stupid apprentice left them in a drawer that barely even needed its lock picked so I figured he didn't want them anymore. Howsabout you go flog them to Winthrop and we split the profit? He doesn't trust me anymore when I tell them they're MY pretties!” she giggled.
“I'm surprised that stuffy old Gorion let you away from your studies and chores. Old Puffguts Winthrop was looking for me , but I've got all day to do his chores. You have time for a story today? No, I can tell you don't. What have ya been up to?
Laisha laughed and shook her head at her incorrigible friend and her rapid fire questions. Imoen had arrived at Candlekeep shortly after she had, by all accounts, another orphan that the monks had taken in, and being the only two young girls having permanent residence, had quickly become fast friends.
“Alright, I'll be your fence. I have to get Fuller a quarrel of bolts anyway. “
Imoen pulled a face.
“Don't know why you talk to those watchers, they're such bores! They never let me have any fun!”
“Oh Fuller's alright once you get to know him. And Hull lets me have plenty of fun, little one!” she winked, and the two girls broke into giggles.
“Little one? I'm not much younger than you, though you sure got tall fast, relatively speaking anyway. So I hear Gorion's taking you on a journey soon, eh? I never get to travel. Wish I could go with ya. Yep, I really wish I could. Yessir. Really do.“
“Allright, allright, I get the message. I'll ask if you can go with us.” Laisha smiled.
“Oh don't be silly, Gorion would never even let you finish the sentence. Especially after what that letter of his said...er...did I say that? No, of course I didn't. Never saw no letter. Nope. I'll just get back to work now.”
“Imoen! You get back here! What letter? What letter!”
Laisha made a grab for her friend, but the nimble thief slid out of her grasp and out of the door. Grumbling, Laisha followed, but the tricksy girl was nowhere in sight. Instead, Reevor stood at the door, peering in at Hanu's handiwork.
“Ah yes, kill them like the rats they are! A glorious battle unlike any the world has ever seen...Here's some coins, don't spend it all in one place.”
Laisha snatched the coins the dwarf tossed at her and poked her tongue out as he waddled away. She smiled as Hull stood watching her, and shaking his head.
“Will you ever grow up girl?” he sighed. Laisha arched a brow and handed back his sword.
“I was plenty grown up enough for you the other night, Hull” she reminded the guard. “and last week...and the week before that...”
Hull flushed.
“Sorry kiddo...and thanks. Gorion didn't bring you up half bad, did he? You're lucky to have grown up here in Candlekeep to be honest. Sometimes I think that the world outside these gates has gone mad, what with all this fighting over iron shortages and all. Amn and Baldur's Gate will be at war before the season's out, mark my words. ..Anyhow, I'm on duty. Here, take some gold for saving my skin from the Chief...” He paused, sliding his sword into the scabbard, then smiled shyly.
“I...I get off duty at highsun...if...if you're not busy, that is....”
Laisha grinned. “I have some spell scrolls to scribe in, but I should be done by highsun or around then...I know the bunkhouse is empty at that time, I'll meet you there,” she winked, stood up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, “behave yourself 'til then!”
Whistling, she headed up to the Candlekeep Inn and Store. As she entered, the door swung back the other way and one of the priests of Oghma bumped into her absently.
“Oh! You should look where you're going, elf maiden. Or are you sick? You look healthy to me, but you never can tell with you lot. Do you need any potions or such things?”
Laisha shrugged, never one to turn down an offer.
“Well, yes, that would be nice of you.”
“All right then, take this potion.”. The distracted Oghman thrust a potion of healing into her hands, then paused, giving the girl a curious look.
“You know, I was in one of the great spires of the keep last night, and saw the strangest sight. The horizon was aglow for a time, as though many a man carried torches in the distance. Usually there are only merchants on that path, though never at night. Bandits perhaps, but so many?”
Laisha could do naught but shrug her shoulders at the puzzled priest as he pondered over the mystery, then hurried off back to the temple in the grounds.
The large man behind the bar in the Inn greeted her.
“Well hello there young one. Come to visit your old pal Winthrop, have ye? Well, don't forget the 5000 gold piece book entrance fee, as per Candlekeep custom, doncha know.”
Laisha rolled her eyes at the jocular fat man.
“You always were the big kidder, Winthrop. That gets funnier very nearly every time I hear it. Well perhaps not quite so often.”
“Haw! Just havin' a bit of fun with ye, my friend.” Winthrop guffawed. “Those monks may be walking about with poles in their nethers, but you know you are always welcome here in my sight. Gorion did well by you, he did. So, is there anything I can do for ya? Some drinks? A room? Anything to buy?
“Yes, actually...i need a quarrel of crossbow bolts please,” Laisha asked.
“Oh by the Gods, you're not thinking of taking up the crossbow are you?” Winthrop shuddered.
“No,” Laisha frowned, insulted “...they're for Fuller. But I WILL take a sling and some stones...and you better watch your windows, since you've taken that attitude!”
Ha! I'll be watchin' you CLEAN my windows, young missy, you and that little thieving friend of yours!” Winthrop huffed.
Laisha handed over the necklace and ring she'd got from Imoen and the gem from Phlydia with a grin in payment as she pocketed the sling and bullets. Sitting at one of the Inn's tables, happily breakfasting was an old mage she recognized from his many visits. He saw her staring and motioned the young mageling to approach.
“Mr Elvenhair, it's our pleasure to see you again.” she greeted him, a rare note of respect in her voice.
“Ah yes, I'm back within the hallowed walls of Candlekeep. With this iron crisis upon us, the trip from Beregost was more hazardous than I care to relate.”
He peered at her closer while he drank down a tankard of ale. “You're Gorion's ward, aren't you? My, you have come into your own, if you would permit an old man jealous of youth to say so. And call me Firebead, child. We are all brothers and sisters, those who delve deep into the Weave to cast our magics, are we not? I can sense the traces of magic deep within your soul, even if it is a little...wild” he smiled impishly as Laisha squirmed under his penetrating gaze.
“Hmmm, I left a spell scroll with Tethtoril, in the inner grounds. He should be done examining it by now, so if you could fetch it for me, I'd be grateful. “
Laisha nodded her assent, a little tonguetied in the presence of the powerful mage, and not trusting herself to speak for fear of seeming foolish in front of him. At her feet, Hanu gazed up at her with implacable eyes. Once they had exited the inn, he spoke up.
“He's not that special, you know. Just another biped. You could far outstrip him in power if you wanted to. With my help, of course.”
“HANU! Be quiet! He'll turn you into a toadstool or something...or even worse, a dog!”
The fussy cat shuddered at that thought, contented himself with a short hiss at the half elf and padded along behind her in silence as the voices of the Chanters recited the seer Alaundo's prophecies in full and constant voice.
"The Lord of Murder shall perish, but in his doom he shall spawn a score of mortal progeny. Chaos will be sewn from their passage. So sayeth the wise Alaundo."
They droned on, one of the many chants Laisha had heard day in, day out for as far back as she could remember.
She searched the inner grounds, until she spied the familiar form of the revered First Reader of Candlekeep, his head cocked as he listened to the Chanters.
Despite her quiet approach, Tethtoril turned around, smiling serenely and yet somehow sadly at his young student.
“Ah, Miss Laisha Lapari herself. Firebead has sent you to me, hasn't he? Very well, return this scroll to him, child.”
He gave her a rolled up sheet of parchment and took his leave.
Hanu sniffed it inquisitively.
“Hmmm smells interesting. Definitely magical. You should take a look.”
Laisha smiled, half-shocked but intrigued.
“Hanu! I shouldn't! I should take it straight back to Firebead.”
The cat yawned.
“You should, yes. But, more interestingly, you could take it up to your study and peruse it. You have other scrolls to scribe, it won't hurt to take a look at this one. You might even learn something for a change.”
With that, her familiar jumped up the little stone croppings that served as his makeshift ladder and disappeared up the side of the Library, vanishing into the open window that led into his and Laisha's sleeping quarters. The half elf headed up the steps and into the library, dodging the various monks, scribes and scholars clustered around muttering into their dusty tombs. Settled at her desk, she watched Hanu stretch himself out on the windowsill to bask in the sun as she pulled several scrolls sealed with wax out of a satchel. Pulling out her spellbook she cast her Read Magic spell and set about transcribing the simple spells Gorion had assigned to her as part of her daily studies.
The time was approaching highsun by the time she wiped her brow and sighed in satisfaction, gazing at her spellbook, which now held a total of 5 spells. An infravision spell was the latest she had learned...not particularly useful in her case, seeing as her tinge of elven blood gifted her that innate ability anyway, but she had learned a lot in the process of transcribing the spell that would serve her well in the future, lessening the time taken for scribing other spells. The second spell had been very useful to her, a long lasting armor spell that would invisibly protect her as if she was wearing scale mail.
She paused, her gaze drawn to the third scroll, the one Tethtoril had bid her return to Elvenhair.
“Just a quick look,” she told herself as she guiltily broke the wax seal and unfurled it, her excitement mounting as she recognized the glyphs denoting an Identify spell, a common enough spell, and one that was particularly useful here in the Library, but was entrusted only to higher level mages, to prevent eager students from toying with potentially powerful items that were beyond their capabilities to control.
Hanu blinked at her and yawned as Laisha concentrated hard, then, without really conscious of her actions, quickly transcribed it along with the others to her spellbook. Only after she had completed the process did she note with dismay that the parchment was now empty, the process of scribing transferring the magical text to her spellbook, leaving the scroll as if it were untouched. Biting her lip, the mageling tried to recopy the words back to the vellum but the magic held fast, preventing any new words from appearing. With a guilty shrug, she stashed the blank paper in a drawer.
“I guess I'll just have to avoid old Elvenhair until he forgets or leaves!” she told Hanu. “It's not like he can't lay his hands on half a dozen of those if he chose to!”
She slammed her spellbook shut, and shook her head.
“I need some air, it's so stuffy in here. I really should take those crossbow bolts back to Fuller. Come on, kitty.”
“Kitty? Hmph” Hanu snorted, his ears flattened as he gave her an unfriendly stare, deliberately taking his time in following Laisha back out into the grounds.
Fuller was at last up and out of bed, which was an improvement on the last time she had seen him. He was, however, slumped over his desk, snoring loudly. Laisha grinned, and tossed the bolts down onto the desk right beside his head with a loud clatter that sent the hapless Watcher up out of his chair, looking around wildeyed and spluttering,
“Who? Wha? Huh?...oh...it's you.” Fuller cleared his throat and calmed himself with a sheepish smile at the amused look on the half-elf's face.
“Thanks. kid. I hear tell you might be leaving this place soon. Watch your back out there, okay?” He fumbled at a scabbard on his belt and withdrew a sharp looking dagger that seemed to glow with a tint of magic.
“Here, let me give you this dagger. My father killed a hobgoblin with it once, many years ago. Stabbed him right in the back, he did. It ain't no broadsword, but it'll do in a pinch.”
He blushed crimson as the delighted Laisha leaned over and kissed his cheek, then impulsively embraced him.
“Thank you, Fuller. That's very thoughtful of you, I'm touched! I don't know when Gorion will whisk me away, but I'll definitely take this with me when I go!”
Looking up at the sun, realizing it was around highsun, Laisha decided it was time for some relaxation, and headed for the bunkhouse, smiling at the hope that Hull may be off duty and would be waiting there to entertain her. As she neared the door, Hanu sniffed and hissed suddenly.
“Something smells not right in there, Laisha. Don't open that door!”
“Don't be silly, Hanu” she replied as she walked in. A figure turned, and her welcoming smile for Hull faded as a stranger stared at her.
“Ere there. You're Gorion's little whelp, aren't ya? Yeah, you match the description. You don't look so dangerous to me.”
Startled, then indignent, Laisha drew herself up to her still underwhelming full height and huffed.
“And what business is that of yours? I could be extremely dangerous for all you know!”
“Ha!” the wretch laughed mirthlessly, “I'll make it my business if'n I please. Just thought I'd have me a look at you for m'self, before I puts a blade down yer gullet! Someone seems to think yer trouble, so I'm gonna use your head for a ticket out o' the gutter. I'm just a little street trash hood they say, but I'll show 'em!”
Stunned, Laisha watched dumbly as the man lunged at her with a crude knife, slashing her on the forehead. She cried out, more in shock than pain, an anger burning fiercely in her eyes. The long months of staff training with Jondalar kicked in, and in an instant, the long staff was out of the sling on her back and in her hands, twirling as she stepped forward menacingly as the dirty man grinned and thrust again. The metal bar on the end caught the would-be assassin squarely on the temple and the surprise only just had time to register in his eyes before he crumpled straight to the floor in a twitching heap.
The move she and Jondalar had practiced many times had been executed perfectly, but this time the staff was not heavily padded with swaddling cloth, this time her opponent had not being wearing a thick pot helmet, this time he did not get straight back up with a cheerful grin and words of praise.
Laisha knelt down, frantically feeling for a pulse to no avail, as Hanu stalked around the corpse, hissing wildly and clawing at his mistresses' assailant's slack-jawed face.
The door opened behind her and she whirled about, seeing the concerned face of one of her tutors, Karan, peering in.
“I heard shouting, LaishaI Are you alright?”
The elderly man's eyes widened as he spotted the dead man on the floor.
“He...he's dead, whoever he was,” Laisha sputtered, an unreasoning panic bubbling in her chest. “I didn't mean to! He lunged at me, with a knife. Oh Karan, what is happening to this place?”
The wizened sage sighed, regret piercing his pale blue eyes.
“It's not this place, child. It's you they're after. Oh Laisha, I have been your tutor for so many years, and only in this moment have I come to doubt that my teachings have been enough. Go now, child, go to Gorion. It is safe for you here no longer.”
“B..but Gorion. He will be so mad...oh but where would he be?”
“I last saw him conversing with the priests in their quarters, child. He may still be there. I pray you, go to him. He will keep you safe.”
Laisha fled, Hanu bristling in her arms, hurtling past astonished Watchers and monks as she headed to the Priests Quarters. Outside the door, Hanu leapt down, sniffed and hissed violently, the fur on his back arched higher than Laisha had ever seen it.
“Another unfamiliar smell in here, Laisha. Best you heed my words this time, and enter prepared. Strike him down! Kill the wretch!”
Pushing open the door, staff quivering in her shaking hands, Laisha confronted another stranger bathed in the unwashed odor of city streets.
“Oh goodie goodie!” the man cackled as she spotted the young half-elf. “I've gone and found ye first! You are the ward of Gorion no doubt?”
Hanu darted down and around the man's legs, howling and hissing as Laisha measured her latest possible opponent.
“I do not recognise you,” she replied cooly. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”
“Who I am is unimportant, but who YOU are is very much so,” the man leered. “I apologize for this dirty bit of business, but I must seek your death. A pity, I know, but it would seem your head is worth an exceptional amount to me. I kill you myself and I need not share credit with anyone.”
Assured now that this man too meant to kill her, Laisha clutched her staff tight, and started muttering an incantation under her breath. Hanu lashed out with his razor sharp claws, shredding the man's ankle and nimbly skipped away as the man yelped and aimed a vicious kick at the cat.
“I'll crush your face, I will. Make you dead and done!”
He yelled out as Laisha's spell took effect, covering him in a swirl of constantly changing colours. He paused, then seeing the frown on the girl's face, smiled triumphantly as he felt no other ill effects.
“Parlor tricks by a silly little girl. Silly little dead girl!”
But he had underestimated the mage. The wild surge had given her all the time she needed, and she took full advantage of his momentary hesitation to lash out with her staff, winding him as she struck him square in the ribs, then jabbing again hard, aiming for his heart. The man stared wide eyed at her as he clutched at his chest, the jolt causing his heart to stop, just as was designed, and he, too, fell to the floor with a loud clunk.
Hanu hissed wildly as he rejoined Laisha.
“Vile human trash at every turn, all baying for your blood. We shall slay them all!” he meowed viciously.
Trying to steady herself, Laisha backed out of the preists quarters, and straight into another of her tutors as the door swung closed.
Parda steadied her gently, then looked deeply into her eyes.
“You cut yourself above the brow there, girl.” he said as she wiped the sweat and blood from her eyes, fingering the cut the first man had given her.
“What is wrong, child?” he asked. “ Something in your eyes tells me something is very wrong indeed.”
“It's...it's nothing, Parda. Hanu had a fight with one of the other cats, and I had to seperate them. I'm all right, really.”
Parda gave the mage's familiar a searching look, seeing his wild behaviour and aggressive manner.
“Hmmm well all right. I think Gorion was looking for you, over at the library. You best not keep him waiting.”
Laisha nodded her mute assent and bolted for the library, seeing her foster father standing on the library steps.
“Gorion! “ she called urgently, “I...”
“This is very unnerving, I know” he interrupted, quietly but insistently. “But you must trust me. There is no time to tarry. The keep is well protected, but not invulnerable. Go to your room now, collect your spellbook and belongings. Tonight we must travel. Stay in your room until I collect you. This is no time for you to be out in the open. Now go!”
It was evening by the time Laisha and Hanu re-emerged from her room, both sets of eyes darting around nervously as they accompanied Gorion down to the front gate.
“Listen carefully,” her foster father urged her, “If we ever become seperated it is imperative that you make your way to the Friendly Arm Inn. There you will meet Khalid and Jaheira. They have long being my friends and you can trust them.”
Her mind in a whirl, Gorion's words barely registered. The thought of finally venturing beyond the walls of Candlekeep, for so long a dream of unbridled adventure was suddenly now a frightening necessity, fleeing her childhood home a criminal, two deaths to her name.
Gorion dragged her through the woods east of Candlekeep, as the wind picked up strength and the rain began to fall, avoiding the well trodden path in an attempt to avoid detection.
“Hurry child. The night can only get worse and we must find shelter soon...”
Seeing the worried look on her face, Gorion laid an arm over her shoulders.
“Don't worry, Laisha. I will explain everything as soon as there is time.”
Hours of hurried, silent trekking through the woods later, they entered a large clearing. Gorion paused, his eyes narrowed, placing a warning hand to stop the young half-elf from moving forward.
“Wait, Laisha! There is something wrong. We are in an ambush. Prepare yourself.”
A small group stepped into the clearing then, from the other side. Two huge brutish ogres and a pair of archers smirked malevolently as their leader, an imposing armored figure, strode towards Gorion and his ward. In the background, a svelte figure in chain mail began to chant and pray – a cleric! Laisha realised, alarmed.
“You're perceptive for an old man.” the figure in armor rumbled. “You know why I'm here. Hand over your ward and no one will be hurt. If you resist, it shall be a waste of your life.”
Laisha reeled in disbelief. The figure was the same one from her dreams. Her nightmares. A man clad all in iron. A man with demonic eyes. Countless throats she had seen him crush, all over Faerun, his mocking laughter had echoed in her ears too many mornings to remember.
“You're a fool if you believe I would trust your benevolence.” the elder mage responded calmly. “Step aside, and you and your lackeys will be unhurt.”
The figure chortled.
“I'm sorry that you feel that way, old man.” His eyes glowered from beneath his helmet.
“Run child, get out of here!” Gorion barked as the female archer loosed a spiteful arrow that grazed her arm.
The fear struck her then, and she ran, ran like a fool, like a frightened fox chased by baying hounds. The sounds of an epic battle of magic and sword echoed throughout the woods behind her as she ran through the night, smacking into tree after tree, hiding in a makeshift hole until the darkness was finally vanquished by the light.
I love all the little spins you put on the Candlekeep quests! Little things like Nessa falling from the sky in a wild surge (I giggled), the training practice with Jondalar, Laisha's flirting with Hull, and the accidental scribing of Firebead's scroll. I also really enjoyed Hanu's character--the perfect snarky, high-and-mighty magic cat. And you know what else? I like good set-ups too! I'm glad I'm not the only one. :'D
Though because the original content flowed so well, the in-game quotes seemed to stick out. It may just be because I've played the game several times, and researched the lines myself to use in my own fic, so I know the dialogue when I read it. May want a second opinion on that before you start picking apart your writing though.
The only other thing I'm concerned about is Laisha. I like her a lot, but she also reminds me a bit too much of Neera. They're both half-elven, both wild-mages, both share a proficiency with quarterstaffs... Though Laisha also seems good with slings (and good thing too because gods help the poor mage who adventures without a ranged weapon). Do they also have the same alignment? I believe the chaotic neutral characters get cat familiars, right?
At any rate, I wouldn't change her or use a different protag, but I am curious to know if she's going to run into Neera, and how that's going to go down. I guess I'll just have to find out as I read more.
Everytime you start quoting a line from BG, I read it in the appropriate voice
Keep up the good work, @rufus_hobart !
Besides your work is very insightful for me. In my novelization attempt I'm going for a story-based approach with a couple of different POV rather than a protagonist-based approach, but your works shows me I need to be careful with my approach, lest characters won't come to life enough to engage the reader. I feel I already have a pretty good impression of who Laisha and Hanu are, and I sympathize with the bothe of them. Well done sir, hats off!
As far as Laisha/Neera goes, yeah....Her character was created well before the EE's came out, so when Neera came about in the EE I was happy..but also a little crushed, as I wrote in another thread once, "thanks, Beamdog for making my successful charnames obsolete (my other was a lawful good monk!).
However, I think I can make some interesting developments happen if I can pull it off here, Beregost is going to be quite a challenging time for Laisha, both personally and in terms of her relationship with Imoen which she so far takes for granted a little...
2. The Lion's Way
The dawn was especially cruel this morning. Laisha awoke with the realization that she had not been living some horrible dream. Ambushed, she saw Gorion cut down before her eyes. Even his powerful magics could not stop the onslaught. It had been his wish that she flee, but that did not remove the feeling of helplessness that now overwhelmed her.
“Hand over your ward,” the armoured fiend had said.
He was after her, and her alone, but why? If only Gorion had given some clue. But now, she was alone, and lost. Candlekeep was near, but she would find no quarter there. The Readers paid for their serenity with rather draconian entry rules. Without Gorion's influence, the doors would remain closed. She would not last long on her own with her meagre equipment. Perhaps she could get some help from the friends Gorion had mentioned, the ones at the Friendly Arm Inn.
Exhausted and sore, she slowly, fearfully uncurled herself from out of the hole she had cowered in for the remainder of the night. She winced as she stretched, her slender limbs cracking and protesting as they settled back into place. Hearing footsteps approaching her, she huddled into a crouch, a fearful animal ready to flee, and screamed out when a figure rushed suddenly at her, trapping her in a tight embrace as she fought uselessly to get free.
“Stop it! Stop It! Laisha, it's me! It's Imoen!I won't hurt you, I promise! I won't let anyone ever hurt you again!”
Laisha lifted her tear-streaked face, bleary eyes meeting the concerned face of her only friend.
“Imoen, I...”
The young thief cut her off, continuing to hold her tightly.
“I know, Laisha, I know. I saw....I saw Gorion, and I am SO sorry. I'm sorry about everything. I'm sorry I followed ya, but I never get out of Candlekeep, and you know how those monks are such a bore, with never a thing in their pockets, let alone some decent coin.”
Laisha somehow managed a smile at how, even now, in the darkest of times, Imoen's thoughts could bounce around all over the place, dominated by her love of mischief, coin and her “pretties”.
“I thought it would be FUN!” the girl wailed, squeezing Laisha so tight she started coughing for breath.
“I mean, I kinda figured something bad might happen to you out her, but I thought Mr. G could handle it, I thought he could handle anything!”
Finally wriggling free of Imoen's grip, Laisha peered at the young thief.
“How could you have known? Gorion did not even tell me.”
Imoen flushed, and glanced away shiftily.
“I...accidentally... read a letter on his desk the other day. Can't remember exactly what it said, but he might have...it might be on his...his body. . Anyway i'm not gonna let you wander around out here all alone. Never let a friend down, no sir! Stick with you until you say otherwise, I will!”
Laisha snuffled away the last of her tears and gave Imoen a wan smile.
“Well, we should get moving, I suppose. No sense hanging around the woods, Not much adventure in that, right? And besides, Hanu will get fat from all the birds and squirrels!”
Imoen giggled as she heard a muffled hiss from where the content cat was curled up in Laisha's pack, digesting his morning meal.
“Where should we head?” she asked her half-elven friend. “Should we go back to Candlekeep? It's all we know, after all.
Laisha shook her head somewhat sadly.
“We can't, Immy. Didn't you ever listen to Gorion or Tethtoril? They'll only let someone in who can contribute to their library with a valuable book they haven't already got. And no, your journal about your filthy exploits doesn't count!” she smirked as Imoen laughed and hurled a dirt clod at her.
“I suppose we should try and find the place where we were attacked, and Gorion....fell.” Laisha suggested, more soberly. “I want to have a look at that letter you mentioned. And we should...put him to rest. If not for him I would have been killed. I owe him a proper burial.”
Imoen nodded her assent, and the two girls gathered themselves together and set off eastwards along the path, Hanu trotting at their heels. It was not long before a lone figure approached them on the path, heading west.
The two girls stiffened, Laisha's hands gripping her quarterstaff tighter, Imoen casually reaching for an arrow to notch into her bow as the portly man ambled casually towards them, his hands open and outstretched in a placating manner.
“Well, a busy day for me today indeed!” the man greeted them cheerfully. “Strange noises throughout the night, and now a plethora of people strolling about the wood. You do look a touch more hospitable than the last two I met though. Well met, strangers. I am called Kolssed.”
Laisha glanced at Imoen, taken aback by the man's open and friendly manner. She had been told that the world outside Candlekeep was harsh and suspicious, not warm and welcoming such as she was being faced with now!
Imoen simply shrugged, so, half suspecting another ambush like the one last night, but hoping that perhaps these were the friends of Gorion he had told her of come searching, Laisha questioned the traveller.
“What are you doing out here in the woods? We've heard nothing but how dangerous they are!”
“Me?” Kolssed replied mildy. “Oh, I'm a hermit. Well I'm rather new at it actually, and I haven't quite got the isolation bit down yet. Too much of a people person I suppose.” he chuckled self-deprecatingly.
“Used to be a merchant in Nashkel, I did, but lost everything due to the iron shortage. Been wandering the woods for a while now, and it's rather relaxing, I must say. Aside from eluding the occasional bandit that is!” he grinned. “I'm generally left alone because I have nothing of value.”
“What of the two people you saw?” Laisha quizzed him. “I was told to meet some friends at...the Friendly Arm Inn, I think? Perhaps they and the ones you met are one and the same?”
Kolssed pulled a skeptical face.
“Oh I doubt these are the ones you seek, young Miss. They do not seem the friendly type, and are far afield of the Inn.”
Laisha's face fell. She had hoped that the Inn, with its promises of shelter and safety was nearby. The woods were unfamiliar to her and already the short amount of travelling along the road was making her legs ache.
“I left the pair not a moment ago just up the road,” Kolssed continued. “You will have to pass them anyway if you wish to go to the Friendly Arm. There is a crossroads a ways to the east, and the Inn is north of that.”
“Thank you,” Laisha said gratefully as Imoen hastily scribbled down the given directions on a sheet of crumpled parchment. “My foster father and I were attacked last eve, and all I know is that I was to try for the Inn, but was not sure where to go. Your directions will be invaluable.”
Kolssed shrugged with a disarming smile.
“Oh, I have little to give besides advice and good will, so I will provide you with both before you are on your way. Make friends where you can, as traveling alone is almost certain death along the Sword Coast. You will want to surround yourselves with like-minded companions,” he smiled, nodding at Imoen. “lest you risk making enemies in your own party. Aside from these little tidbits of wisdom, I'd say you're on your own. Tymora be with you.”
“And with you!” the girls chorused, feeling somewhat lighter after the conversation and blessing, and they watched Kolssed amble off down the path before continuing east.
As they walked, Laisha scoured the surrounding bushes, hoping to recognize the place where Gorion had veered from the path last night. She felt strongly that she should find the spot where he had fallen and set him properly to rest. Imoen, too was distracted, chattering away happily to Hanu who studiously ignored her, and pointing out every new flower, scurrying animal or chirping bird that they came across. So it was that when they rounded a corner and stumbled into the pair that Kolssed had advised them about they were quite unprepared.
A strange, dirty little man, about half the size of a full grown human eyed the girls up and down with a strange glint in his eye as he scraped a stone down the length of his short sword, sharpening the already deadly looking blade.
“Hold it there, kiddies. Rather strange place to be wandering, ain't it?” He spat off into the woods. Now listen, my companion has something to say to ye.”
“Montaron! You are so aggravating! 'Tis disturbing to my demeanour!!” The girls jumped as the green robed human shrieked at his diminutive counterpart, then turned to them with a hideous grin, his bony hands caressing an ugly bound spellbook as he spoke.
The halfling snarled back at the wizard who appeared to be his companion.
“Disturbing? Ha! Ye already be disturbed, now leave me be! Yer company be toil enough as is!”
“Hold, Montaron, these young wayfarers are in need.” the wizard stated, dismissing the argument between them as he gazed first at Imoen, then settling on Laisha, as the halfling merely grunted and resumed sharpening his sword.
“Someone has set about thee, strangers, and you have barely escaped with your life.”
“Aye, Xzar,” Montaron chipped in. “looks to have been roughed up quite well.”
Laisha stared at the strange mage. Could he have been involved somehow in the attack on her and Gorion? But no, she considered. There had been ogres and archers, and a cleric, along with the demonic man. Xzar looked in surprisingly good physical shape for a magic user, and certainly seemed a little less than stable, particularly with the demonic seeming tattoos he had inked all over his face, but he did not have the overwhelming presence she had sensed last night in Gorion's killer.
“Indeed!” Xzar grinned toothily, and Laisha reeled, wondering if the mage had been reading her mind, but no, he was still stuck on his own freewheeling thoughts.
“I can offer you healing potions, if you wish, as a token of good will.”
Laisha blinked in surprise. Imoen, strangely tonguetied, simply shrugged and Laisha gratefully accepted the unexpected offer. First Kolssed, and now a helpful alchemist. Strangers seemed to be positively encouraged in these woods outside Candlekeep!
“My thanks, kind ...Xzar, is it? I'd be grateful for any assistance.”
“Nothing to fear from these simple potions” Xzar leered as he dug his bony hands deep into the pockets of his robe and tossed stoppered vials at Laisha and Imoen, “and I'll not even hold you in debt, though your conscience knows otherwise.”
“Just like all good people.” snorted the halfling, and spat again.
Laisha stashed her potion into her own robe as she puzzled out this strange pair. For all his uncouthness, the halfling looked to be deadly and skilled with his treasured blade. The mage was obviously a smooth talker when he wanted to be, and was trying to talk her into agreeing to assist him, that much was obvious. As proof of her deductions, Xzar cleared his throat.
“Perhaps as payment for our assistance, you would go with us to Nashkel?” Xzar asked pleasantly as Imoen raised her brows and mouthed “where the blazes is Nashkel?” Laisha simply shrugged as the mage pressed on.
“It is a troubled area, and we mean to investigate some disturbing rumours surrounding the local mine. Some acquaintances of Monty and I are very concerned about the iron shortage. Specifically, where to lay blame in the matter. You would be useful,” Xzar smiled superciliously, recognizing a fellow magic user in the half-elf and seeing Imoen carrying her bow, “though of course I shall not hold you to it. We are to meet the mayor of the town, a man named Berrun Ghastkill, I believe.”
“Your conscience be your guide,” Montaron added, and Laisha gave the little man a sharp look, as he was obviously goading them, daring the girls to turn the request down after they had been given the potions for free.
“Give me a moment,” Laisha asked the mage, and he frowned. “I have to talk with my friend, first.” She grabbed Imoen and the two stepped aside out of hearing into the woods a little.
“What do you think, Immy? “
“Well...” the young thief spoke hesitantly...”it sounds excitin' an' all...I've never even heard of this Nashkel place. And everyone seems all upset about this iron crisis thing, even back at Candlekeep. I bet we could be heroes if we could sort it all out! That mage speaks like he's layin' honey on bread, but I dunno, I don't like his eyes a single bit! And shouldn't we try and meet those friends of Mr. G he kept talking about first? At least let 'em know you're okay and all. They'll know what to do, I bet!”
Laisha nodded slowly, and thought about consulting her familiar for his thoughts, but the cat was nestled snugly in her pack and showed no signs of wanting to be disturbed.
Agreed on a course of action, the two women returned to the path where the expectant mage and surly halfling were waiting.
“We would join with you, “Laisha said firmly, ”but we must meet someone first. Perhaps you will go with us?”
“We've precious little time,” Xzar sighed, “but it's best to travel accompanied.”
“Aye, we'll go wit ye,” Montaron scowled, “Ye owe us fer our time though!”
Laisha sighed. She could see that Montaron would be presenting her with a bill full of imagined services at some future point, and hoped Xzar would keep his baser instincts under control.
They set off along the path, making what seemed to Laisha to be an unseemly amount of noise. They had better get more accomplished at travelling through the wilderness, and fast, or they were more like than not to be found by some of the bandit gangs that were rumoured to rule the area.
A rustling in the bushes brought Laisha out of her revelry, the movement accompanied by a sudden shrill screaming and jabbering that put even Xzar's to shame. Out of the woods burst a swarm of half a dozen hunchbacked blue-furred humanoids, all fang and fur and sharp claws, their toothed maws drooling insanely.
“Gibberlings!” Montaron cried, brandishing his sword and charging in. “Back me up or feel me wrath!”
Imoen immediately began firing arrows into the horde, as Laisha and Xzar flailed away with their slings, flinging hard round stones at the beasts, unwilling to waste their precious magicks on fiends such as these.
Imoen struck true, a fletched arrow sticking out of one gibberling's chest, causing it to reel back in pain. Laisha's stone struck the wounded beast in the chest and it collapsed with a groan to the ground. Momtaron hacked and slashed at three others as they surrounded him, poking one in the belly and twisting the sword viciously, disemboweling the hapless gibberling. Delighted with their first attack, the girls combined again, arrow and stone felling a third and fourth beast as Xzar's flung stone took a chunk out of another's arm. It howled in pain and rage, lashing out at Montaron, scratching him down the face, causing the enraged halfling to turn and slash at it's neck, a torrent of blood spewing out as it flew back , lifeless. The girls combined again to bring down the sole remaining gibberling, and the four companions stood amidst the carnage, struggling for their breath as they surveyed the damage done.
“Monty? Are you okay?” Imoen asked, reaching out to the little man.
“Oh sure” the halfling responded sarcastically. “I always bleed like this at this time of the day. And my name is Montaron, not Monty or anything else your addled little brain might dream up, girlie. Best you remember that before you end up as dead as these buggers.” He kicked out angrily at the corpse of the one that had scratched him.
Laisha leaned over, studying the strange creatures.
“What were these things?”
“I told ye! Gibberlings.! Ye'd do well to listen to me when I talk, I ain't just a pretty face!” he leered.
“Yer lucky there was only a handful of 'em, usually they swarm at ye by the dozens. Hungry little blighters they are too, all they want is food.” He grinned toothily. “Strip ya to the bone., they do, slurp the marrow right out of ye!” he chortled as Xzar broke from his reverie.
“Bone? Marrow? You make my hungers drool! Pray do tell, what delicacies are for dinner, Monty old chum?”
Montaron shot him a disgusted look, matched by the girls.
“Pah! Best we move along before the mad wizard blows us all the gods-knows-where” Montaron grunted, and the group set off once more.
“Laisha, look! She said excitedly. “This must be where Gorion led you last night. It shouldn't be too far!”
The thief's words proved prophetic. All too soon, the party of four came to a clearing where charred trees still smoked away from the force of magical fire. Laisha stopped and gulped, knowing what was to come. Imoen's hand on her shoulder steadied her and she pressed on as the wizard and halfling gazed around.
“Ha! So this is what nearly killed ye, huh elfling?” Montaron whistled as he surveyed the carnage. Xzar pranced around the site, giddy and wide eyed.
“Ohh such power, such magical forces at play. Sulfur and guano and death, oh my!”
The two girls ignored the capering wizard, their eyes fixed on the bodies of the fallen.
Two large ogres lay side by side, slain by fearsome magiks. At the edge of the clearing lay another body, this one smaller, human, a dropped bow by its side...and in the middle, a grey cloaked man whom Laisha had looked up to all of her life, somehow seeming small, even frail in death. The body of Gorion.
She choked back a sob, Imoen's hug reassuring her that her friend was nearby.
“Is...is that Gorion?” Imoen asked softly.
“Yes. He died saving me from some...thing.”
The mage and halfling stood by impassively as the two girls tentatively approached the body.
“Ah pick up the pace, girlies. 'E's too far gone to be bitin' ya.” Montaron snorted, then shot a sidelong glance at Xzar. “Isn't he?”
“Hmmm?” the wizard jolted back into the present from some twisted fantasy. “Oh well, one never can tell, all kinds of delightful things can happen to corpses, hee hee!”
“Doncha even know what attacked you? Whatever it was, looks like it was vicious.” Imoen observed, looking around at the scorched clearing.
“It was too dark to see much, but it was humanoid, although I couldn't see a face,” Laisha began hesitantly. “His eyes glowed though...like hell's fire. And he would have gone straight for me if Gorion, gods rest his soul, had not barred his way.”
“I see...” Imoen said thoughtfully. “Hmmm...so he wasn't after Gorion, but you. I don't like this, Lai, don't like it at all!
“I don't either, but I have to find out what's going on, and why I was attacked. I don't want to drag you into this, though, Im.”
“Leave?” Imoen scoffed “And if I did, who would keep ya entertained? Who would keep your spirits lifted in the darkest hour? And who would keep up the practical jokes?”
Touched beyond words, Laisha picked up the dagger lying at Gorion's side, handing it on to Imoen.
“Here, You should have this, he'd want you to.” Imoen smiled softly and accepted the dagger, slotting it into the sheath on her belt, before kneeling in turn and unbuckling the belt around Gorion's waist.
“Here, this is for you, Lai. I know he'd want you to take it, it's magical! He told me it was the Belt of Anti...Antip...Anticipation or something? Oh, I forget...Oh!” Imoen's speech freewheeled as Laisha knelt silently at the side of the only parent she'd ever known, gazing at his body, seeming somehow old and frail in the morning light.
“Oh! I almost forgot!” Imoen gasped, before filching a sheet of parchment from the pocket of Gorion's robe.
“Here, Lai. This is the letter he received, the one I told you about.”
Laisha moved away from the greedy prying eyes of Xzar, and unfurled the parchment, her eyes quickly scanning over the words.
“Gorion,
Please forgive the abruptness with which I now write, but time is short and there is much to be done. What we have long feared may soon come to pass, though not in the manner foretold, and certainly not in the proper time frame. As we both know, forecasting these events has proved increasingly difficult, leaving little option other than a leap of faith. We have done what we can for those in thy care, but the time nears when we must step back and let matters take what course they will. We have, perhaps, been a touch too sheltering to this point.
Despite my desire to remain neutral in this matter, I could not, in good conscience, let events proceed without some measure of warning. The other side will move very soon, and I urge thee to leave Candlekeep this very night, if possible. The darkness may seem equally threatening, but a moving target is much harder to hit, regardless of how sparse the cover. A fighting chance is all that can be asked for at this point
Should anything go awry, do not hesitate to seek aid from travelers along the way. I do not need to remind thee that it is a dangerous land, even without our current concerns, and a party is stronger than an individual in all respects. Should additional assistance be required, I understand that Jaheira and Khalid are currently at the Friendly Arm Inn. They know little of what has passed, but they are ever thy friends and will no doubt help however they can.
Luck be with us all.
I'm getting too old for this.
E."
She rolled up the letter after reading it twice, stashing it into her pack. Gazing down at Gorion sadly, she spoke quietly to Imoen.
“What do I do? I have no tools to bury him. The ground is too hard for my hands to even try, all I get is loose surface dirt...I'm not strong enough to carry him back to Candlekeep, I don;t know what to do!”
Hanu poked his head up from Laisha's backpack, stared at the corpse a long moment, then sniffed.
“Leave him.”
“What? Hanu, how could you say such a thing?” Laisha dumped her pack on the ground, eliciting a hiss from her cat who gazed up at her implacably with unblinking yellow eyes.
“Leave him, I said. He's dead, and standing here mooning over him isn't going to change that.
“Hanu!” Imoen gasped, a hand flying to her mouth in shock, her eyes darting between the cat and her friend, as angry energy crackled between them.
“The wolves will take him. They are extra hungry this season and will be grateful for the meal.” Hanu bored on relentlessly as Laisha's face paled, her eyes narrowed, magical energy building quickly around the young woman, drawing a far off cry from Xzar who was scavenging the other corpses Gorion had taken down with him.
“Control yourself, girl,” Hanu said calmly. “Do you not know who the man was, what he would have wished? Those who Harp gladly give themselves back to nature, to balance out what they may have taken from her during life.”
“Stop it! I don't want to hear your mewling voice any more, Hanu. I don't know what you're talking about, and I don't care! Leave me alone!
Imoen watched aghast as the young mage stalked off west into the woods, throwing an appalled glance down at Hanu who unconcernedly groomed his whiskers and curled back up into the pack.
“She will learn,” is all he said before closing his eyes once more.
Incensed, scared, and angrier than she'd ever felt in her life, Laisha rushed through the trees, not caring where she stumbled, just wanting to flee from the sight of her dead father and the supercilious manner of her uncaring cat.
“Do I not know? Of course I knew him, I was the ONLY one who knew him” she mumbled to herself, wiping tears away angrily.
“He was my FATHER, stupid cat doesn't know what he's talking about, going on about harps or whatever, I just don't know what to do, what do I do, what do I DO?!”
This last word ended on a shriek, and she collapsed to the ground very near a cliff edge, sobbing and moaning, her fingernails scratching at the stony ground beneath as her chest heaved with exertion.
Gradually recovering herself, she wiped her bleary eyes, only now aware of the sound of rushing water, and she simply sat for a moment, staring at the calming sight of the waterfall in front of her, the pure cool water leaping over the edge to crash in the river below. She found herself drawn to it, some small part of her wondering if it may not be easier to be as the water, to join it in it's joyful leap over the cliff edge and sink into oblivion. She approached the edge slowly, leaning over to peer down into the chasm, and was overcome by dizziness.
She swayed, eyes rolling, on the brink of simply toppling over, when a calm, loving voice seemed to enter my mind.
“Laisha, my child. This is most unlike you, so full of spitefire and enthusiasm. Does your lust for life diminish so easily when faced with the merest hurdle? I had thought you made of sterner stuff, and so, no doubt did The Mistress of Cats.”
She gasped then, frozen to the spot, eyes blinking rapidly as Gorion's voice echoed through her mind, as clear as her dreams, calm and soothing as always, tinged with just a hint of straight-faced mischief as he referred to her past dalliance with the Sharessan acolytes.
“You are not of my blood, that belongs to another but thou are most assuredly MY daughter, Laisha. I will not have you come to an ignominious end. My time on Faerun is done, but yours is just beginning. I will guide you if and as I can, but your path is your own. I pray you, recall my words to you as they will stand you in good stead, but ultimately, your choices are yours and yours alone. All I can say is remember who you are.
Gorion's voice faded from her mind and left her reeling, a sense of peace she had not known since leaving Candlekeep in her breast, and a small smile on her lips, when an embarrassed shuffle of feet to her left made her turn.
Staring at her from the lip of the falls was a foppish young man who cleared his throat and flushed when he saw Laisha gaze back at him.
“Hello...well...I was about to tell you not to come any closer, but that never seems to work, does it? I should tell you all your wailing and thrashing and talking to yourself has somewhat disturbed me, completely threw me off! It didn;t seem right to complete my little ritual with you hogging all the attention for yourself. Well, now that you're done, I should return all attention to ME!. Don't come any closer or I'll JUMP! Yeah, you heard me, and I'll do it, too! So...don't come any closer...again. And don't try to stop me!”
Laisha glared at him a moment, then felt a flush of embarrasment and shame, disgusted with herself that she had even considered, however briefly, such a course of action, and that any observers may compare her to this fop. She shrugged then, irrritated by this overly dramatic young man who had interrupted her private goodbye to her foster father.
“Okay. Jump then. I've said goodbye to my father and he was many times the man you are. He's dead, and you're alive. I see no sense in this. So okay, jump if you must,” she said simply, and turned to walk away.
“Okay?” the fop repeated incredulously, “...You aren't going to do a thing? Wow. You...you must have incredible faith in my will to live. No one has ever shown such trust in me, not ever! Not even Mumsey. Thank you so much for your quiet faith. I choose to live! I CHOOSE TO LIVE! Oh no! I have to get home before Mumsey find the note! She has no stomach for such things. I'll have Jeeves double her usual cocktails and tell her of my new resolve! Thank you so much! Tra La! Life is grand once again!”
He rushed off with a skip in his step, leaving Laisha cursing his stupidity in his wake. She turned, and saw a small figure standing silently at the edge of the woods, watching her.
Montaron shook his head and snarled.
“Ye should've let me boot the fool over the edge, do his dirty work for him. More air for the rest of us” the bloodthirsty halfling said, and Laisha found herself laughing hysterically in agreement, the peals of laughter astonishing the little man, who peered up at her.
“Aha, ye have a mean streak in ye after all, girl, we may just get along yet!”
Montaron guided her back to the clearing where Imoen and Xzar were waiting, and Imoen handed over her pack wordlessly, biting her lip as she anxiously surveyed her friend's face. Laisha flashed a wan smile and Imoen relaxed slightly, giving the half elf a quick hug before hoisting her own pack back on her shoulders and testing the tension in her bow.
Laisha snuck her hand deep into her pack, finding the warm fur of her cat curled up in his compartment. She stroked him softly and whispered “I'm sorry Hanu, so sorry, I hate that we fought, I'm sorry, I...”
Hanu broke into her babbling by bathing her fingers with his tongue, licking then nipping at her fingertips with his fangs, always his sign that all was well between them.
“You have nothing to beg my forgiveness for, Lady. We shall talk later, you and I” he assured her in a whisper so soft she was unsure whether she heard it with her ears or her mind.
Packs rearranged, the four of them set off again, with Hanu safely nestled still in Laisha's pack. She could hear him purring contentedly in there, and saw no reason to force an introduction to Montaron and Xzar until he was ready, as she knew her mercurial familiar would do so in his own time. Her spirits unexpectedly lifted by her clifftop encounter with the spoiled manboy and her private farewell to Gorion, she found herself enjoying the walk through the woods, until Imoen, scouting ahead, suddenly bid the rest of them stop with a sudden hand gesture. Concerned, the party froze, and Imoen crawled back to Laisha, whispering.
“Lai? You're better accustomed to magic, and even nature and all that. Why would a tree glisten with light?”
“Glisten?” Laisha questioned her friend. “What do you mean? Like sap?”
“No, no, no! There's something weird about a tree up ahead, I swear! There's a knot in the tree trunk and something in the middle of it is shining when the sun hits it! I just don't know if it's the type of tree or whatever, or it's something we should investigate? I never paid any attention to all those nature studies!”
A sigh emanated from Laisha's pack, and a feline voice, tinged with just a hint of contempt, spoke up.
“Obviously trees do not naturally sparkle. Therefore, it would be a reasonable assumption that there is something wedged in this knot that may pay the young thief to investigate. Now can you PLEASE send the irritating one to do just that so I may return to my slumber?”
Laisha giggled as Imoen stuck her tongue out at Hanu in the pack and Xzar stared boggle-eyed and delighted at Laisha's pack.
“That marvellous talking bag is correct, my young companions, pray go investigate forthwith!” His bony hands reached out greedily for the bag which Laisha swung neatly out of his grasp.
“Oh I wouldn't, Xzar” she warned merrily, “you might make it angry. You wouldn't like it when it's angry!”
A crestfallen look passed over the wizard's face, as Imoen started whooping in delight.
“Woo! The fat hermit's blessing worked! Tymora favors us, Lai, here's proof!”
She tossed over a small object that Laisha swiftly snatched out of the air before Xzar or Montaron could intervene.
“A diamond!” she gasped. “Why would a diamond be hidden in a tree?”
“Bandits.” Montaron suggested. “The roads are full of' em. Some idiot probably thought if he had nothing worth stealing on him they'd let him live. They would have just shot him full of arrows and been on their way regardless.” he grinned as Laisha returned the gem to Imoen.
“Here ya go Immy, finders keepers. You're the best at looking after the pretties.”
She stashed it away in a pouch, just before a man clad in the brightly garbed dress of a messenger hurried toward them on the path.
“Make way! Make way, I said! Binkos coming through, Sword Coast Messenger Service! Sorry chums, can't stop to chat. There's been another caravan raided northeast of Beregost and I must report of these dire straits to the Grand Dukes.”
Seeing the bemused looks on the faces of the party he dashed past, departing with a cry of “A messenger's work is never done!”
“Another caravan raided?!” Imoen said excitedly. “Wow, that's no good! Remember those Flamin' Fists passin' by Candlekeep last week? They said there was at least two missing! I think we should keep our eyes peeled, or we'll be killed by bandits for nothin'!
As if on cue, a chilling howl came from the woods surrounding them and the party immediately weilded their weapons, fearing another gibberling horde. Instead, a pair of two wolves, obviosuly emaciated and starving for food padded out, baring their fangs and snarling. In her pack, Laisha felt Hanu hiss violently and tremble as the lead wolf leapt for her throat. Luckily, Montaron was there before it could reach, sinking his sword into the poor animal's ribs, cutting short its desperate lunge. Imoen was busy firing off arrows into its partner, and the hapless wolves quickly fell under the onslaught of fury from the party.
Lowering her quarterstaff, Laisha pondered how quickly killing became a natural state out here in the wild, not only for animals and beasts, but for humanoids as well. Only a day ago, she was happy enough living a sheltered life in the citadel of Candlekeep. Now, she was travelling with dangerous companions and dealing killing blows with little more than a second thought.
It would seem Gorion, if the voice she had heard at the waterfall had indeed been his, was right. This was her time, her path to walk. Where would it take her?
Laisha mulled over the messenger's news. Would it be better to stay on the road with all these reported raidings and banditry, or take to the woods, off the beaten track? She would consider it, but for now, lead her party on towards the crossroads along the Lion's Way.
Oh dear, I'm rambling again. Babble happens. Anyway, thanks for the enjoyable read!
@rufus_hobart mentioned that the character Laisha was created before the EEs came out, but even if she had’nt been, I tend to disagree with the notion that there could, or should, be only one plucky young wild mage wielding a quarterstaff traveling the sword coast at one time. Just as there are many paladins. When one thinks of a paladin one gets a mental picture of what that character is like. There are generally similarities that they will share with other paladins, though their stories and personal idiosyncrasies will not be the same.
If say an author was inspired to write about a paladin who spent to much time away from home adventuring, to the detriment of his marriage and family life, should they not write it because Keldorn already exists in the game? I feel they should write it. Surely Keldorn is not the only one with similar problems. I would venture to guess there are many marriages affected by the same problems in Amn. Just because there are some key similarities, does not mean the author’s paladin story would be the same as Keldorn’s.
The question brings to mind something I have heard in other discussions about mod NPCs. Some have said “we don’t need another mage”, or whatever. This makes no sense to me. I feel we need more interesting stories about interesting characters, their class is irrelevant. What their class should be is whatever inspires the author. I feel that an inspired author tends to write characters that entertain us more than one who is just trying to fill a hole.
As to how she would react to Neera. Having some things in common, I can see the two becoming friends. Of course it could go in a completely opposite direction. I look forward to finding out as I read what the author is inspired to write.
I'm curious. Did you happen to have a certain dream sequence in your head when you wrote this part? "Would it be better to stay on the road with all these reported raidings and banditry, or take to the woods, off the beaten track?" The image reminded me a lot like the first dream sequence in the game. When Gorion tells Charname that he/she cannot go back to Candlekeep, and must choose between two paths to venture forward--one paved, and one through the woods. If that was meant to be a shout-out to that dream sequence, then well done! If not, then well done anyway! Accidental symbolism is always wonderful.
I did notice one major grammar mistake you may want to fix to keep other readers from tripping over it. I think it's a typo of some sort? Towards the end of the first paragraph in Chapter 2 Part 2: "So it was that when it was that then they rounded a corner..." I think it pretty much speaks for itself... Normally I try not to nit-pick on grammar things like this, but that one really threw me for a loop.
Otherwise, good job! Looking forward to reading more.
EDIT: Okay, had some more time and got caught up. Near the end of the last entry, you said something about "Laisha felt Pantalaimon tremble and hiss violently in her pack as the wolf lunged for her throat". That made me go "Huh? Who is Pantalaimon?" Did you mean Hanu the cat familiar? I had trouble understanding what was going on there. Otherwise, great job.
Second entry, Chapter 1 part 2, October 10, second paragraph, "She trotted off, Pan at her heels..." ? Is that a third name for the cat familiar? I'm wondering if the cat familiar went through some name changes that didn't get fully edited in?
As far as the allusion to future dreams go, it was actually a deliberate reference so I'm delighted it worked for you. I believe the dreams are one of the strongest and most interesting parts of the game and character and intend to try and make much of them through the story. ;-)
The story flows so smoothly, so effortlessly, and it's full of original ideas that you've come up with. Chapeau!
A half day's worth of travel behind them, the weary band trudged along the path, each bend in the road seeming the same as the last. Laisha fervently hoped that they were going the right direction. Kolssed had bid them go east until they reached a crossroads, but the sun was on it's downward path in the sky and still no crossroads appeared. It wasn't until Imoen crawled back to her from scouting out ahead that Laisha regained some hope that she hadn't somehow managed to get the group irrevocably lost.
“Lai! There's a HUGE stone sign up ahead. We must be getting close, I think, it says we're on the Lion's Way.
“We already knew that, stupid girl!” Xzar muttered irritably.
“Yes, but they surely wouldn't have a sign up for it unless there were other options nearby to go down other paths. I think we're headed in the right direction!” the young thief skipped with glee, then skidded to a halt.
“Oh! I almost forgot! There's also an old man ahead up there.”
“A man? That might be something you could have told us earlier!” The group grabbed their weapons in readiness.
“Yeah, he's an old guy. Just resting in the shade of the stone, I think. Didn't seem to be a threat, not to the likes of us, anyway! Ha!”
Laisha heard a skeptical sniff from her cat in her pack and the band moved on warily, conscience that they were in full view as they trudged along the road. Presently, they saw the towering stone sign Imoen had told them of. Indeed, resting at the foot of it was an elderly man garbed in robes and a pointed hat. On seeing the party he rose to his feet with a grunt, tipped his hat to the ladies and called out in welcome.
“Ho there wanderers, stay thy course a moment to indulge an old man. It's been nigh unto a tenday since I've seen a soul walking this road, and I've been without decent conversation since.”
Peering closer at Laisha, then casting his gaze over the rest of the group, he continued.
“Traveling nowadays appears to be the domain of either the desperate or the deranged; If thou woulds't pardon my intrusion, might I inquire which pertains to thee?"
Ever unable to resist a pert quip, and a little irritated at the nosy old man's assumptions, Laisha stepped forward and responded in kind.
“Not to imply anything, but how do you measure up to your own standards? Pestering strangers about their mental state doesn't seem all that well adjusted to me.”
Behind her, she heard Imoen gasp at her impertinence. Montaron wielded his blade threateningly and Xzar mumbled to himself aggravatedly. Even Hanu weaseled his way up and stuck his head out of the pack to see the response to his wizard's words.
To everyone's astonishment the man threw back his head and laughed resoundingly.
“Point well taken, and thou hast answered my query most adequately,” the man grinned.
“I shall think of thee as determined instead. I shall trouble thee no more, as thou art more than capable of the task at hand. North is the Friendly Arm Inn, where I am certain thou shalt find trustworthy friends awaiting. I have said too much and taken too much time from thee. Fare thee well.”
Laisha nodded her goodbyes, feeling strangely relieved to be in the traveler's good graces. She too laughed when she felt the cuff of a cat's paw at her nape.
“Fool! Could you not feel the energy, the power, emanating from the man?! Your smart-mouthed quip could have had us all turned us into toadstools, had he the inclination!” Hanu bristled, as angry as Laisha had ever seen him.
Despite her feline companion's rage, she could not for the life of her quell her mirth.
“Ah, but he didn't, did he, Hanu? We're still alive, and walking, and not in the least bit fungal! All those thee's and thou's might frighten YOU, but we “bipeds” are made of sterner stuff!”
Hanu growled as fiercely as he could manage, leaped down and trotted off haughtily, muttering about foolish young wizards who didn't know what they were doing.
“I know dragons with feet like rabbits!” Xzar suddenly announced. “'Tis true, I swear!”
“And I know wizards with heads like pulped melons.” Montaron growled in return, then cast an evil look in Laisha's direction. “Maybe even two of 'em.”
"C'mon Montaron, lighten up. Must you be so moody all the time?" Xzar cackled
“Bah! The mad wizard is off on one of his 'spells' again," complained Montaron. “Ignore him, 'tis best for all concerned!” he scowled and stomped off ahead of the two mages to keep an eye on Imoen who was thoroughly enjoying her self-appointed role as party scout.
A half hour past the signpost, and Imoen came crawling back once more from scouting.
“There's some more weird little blue folks up ahead in the bushes,” she announced cheerfully.
“More of those gibberling things?” Laisha asked anxiously.
“Uh-uh. Or at least I don't think so.” Imoen frowned thoughtfully. “These guys are a bit taller, big heads, and hairless...still blue though. Quite excitable little fellas, screeching at eachother and waving their swords around all threatening like.”
Montaron snorted. “Ah. Sounds like we've got ourselves a pack of xvarts, pesky little pests they are.” He looked up at the girls. “Be careful, they can be deadly in packs...and those swords they carry will slice through yon robes and cheap armor like butter if'n you ain't careful.”
“Well why don't I see if I can even the odds a bit?” Imoen grinned and snuck back off. Montaron watched her go with a queer look in his eye..
“Hmmm. A wee bit of training and th' girl could be mighty fine.” he muttered.
The three approached as stealthily as they could, Montaron leading the way, warning the wizards where to step and lift up their robes to avoid snags. From just ahead, they heard the muffled twang of Imoen's bow and a gurgled death rattle from her target.
“Got the scout!” Imoen whispered triumphantly. “One down, five to go!”
Her next arrow grazed the ear of the second scout and he let out a chilling warcry as he charged at the small group. A second arrow made him falter, but he slashed out viciously with his sword at Imoen before the enchanted dagger Fuller had gifted Laisha found its way to the xvarts heart and he dropped. His cry had alerted the rest of the warband however and they came charging, enraged at the sight of their dead pack members.
Imoen's arrows flew thick and fast, and Laisha frantically flung bullets from her dwindling supply, causing two more to fall.
“Ow!” she squealed as the blade of an xvart slashed at her arm, and Montaron was bleeding freely from a head wound as he thrust and parried angrily. Xzar stepped up behind one of the creatures and almost dreamily thrust his dagger into the thick neck of the xvart, severing the brainstem as his halfling companion gutted the last remaining enemy.
After regaining their breath and treating their wounds, Imoen and Laisha watched with distaste as Montaron scavanged what gold and stolen jewels they could find on the bodies of the xvarts.
The little man saw them watching and shrugged.
“Better going in our purse than that of bandits.” he muttered, and stepped over once corpse to investigate the next, plunging his dagger into the eyeball as he went to ensure they were truly dead.
With the halfling's ghoulish activities completed, the party continued on their way. Within the hour, they indeed reached the Coast Way crossroads. Another stone signpost awaited them, with intricate carvings pointing the way for lost and weary travelers.
Coast way: Friendly Arm Inn to the North; Beregost to the south; Lion's Way West to Candlekeep.
The Crossroads at last. Laisha beamed, exultant. She had passed her first self-imposed test, and lead her small band to the first point of reference. The Friendly Arm Inn lay to the north and they would be there within the day. Despite everything that had happened, her spirits were high.
“Onwards to the north, fine friends!” she called. Imoen glanced at her curiously as Xzar cackled furiously and Montaron scowled. An hour into their northward journey, with their hunger gnawing, Laisha called a halt at what seemed to be an opportune shady spot a ways off the path. The party rested their aching legs, feasting on cold meat and bread as Hanu hunted for his dinner, enjoying the sounds and scents of the forest.
“Im?” Laisha began tentatively. “That letter that Gorion had on him...It was signed 'E', right?”
“Mmm-hmm,” Imoen agreed, happily munching away on a chunk of cheese she'd carved off with one of her unused daggers.
“Well...who do you think that could be? Someone obviously knows something about what's going on...Can you think of anyone? Someone Gorion might have known well with that initial?”
Imoen swallowed noisily and looked thoughtful.
“You mean someone who came to Candlekeep maybe?”
Laisha nodded.
“There's only one person I can think of who might be involved in something like this who came to Candlekeep...and he was there yesterday, when all this happened....”
“Elvenhair?” Imoen asked, eyes wide. “Old Firebead? Golly, you're right, he WAS there wasn't he?
Laisha nodded guiltily.
“I was supposed to go back and see him...he asked me to fetch him a spell scroll he'd lent Tethtoril for him...”
“Oh? What happened?”
Hanu looked up from his meal of pigeon long enough to smirk as Laisha flushed.
“I...I scribed it into my spellbook...and the writing disappeared..”
Imoen gaped, intrigued...”Is that what happens to magic scrolls?”
“Oh yes,” beamed Xzar from across the clearing, “all the secrets of the realms can be held in our little books, and they disappear from everywhere else. We are the keepers of such secrets that would blow your mind, little one” he laughed hysterically.
“Aye,” Montaron said, thumbing at Xzar, “and there's yer proof right there!”
Imoen ignored the bickering pair, turning her attentions back to Laisha.
“Well Lai, here we are, traveling the good road. Some grand adventure we're having, huh? Not exactly what we used to daydream about but still, kinda exciting, I guess. I'd rather be out here, going places and doing things, than be stuck in Candlekeep, cleaning out stables and turning down beds. We can do a lot of good, I think.” the young thief beamed.
She lay back, stretching out under a large oak.
“Wonder if they'll make a tale of our adventures?” she said idly. “Just think, one day folks'll be in the common room of some inn, maybe even the Candlekeep Inn, and they'll ask a bard to tell 'em a tale of Imoen the Quick and her trusty sidekick Laisha!”
Laisha raised a brow.
“Imoen the Quick??” she said skeptically.
“Sure!” her friend grinned. “Quick with the bow and quicker with the wit!”
Both Laisha and Hanu rolled their eyes in unison, causing Imoen to break out in peals of laughter.
Thumbing through his disturbingly skin-like spellbook, Xzar carped malevolently as he gazed up at the rays of sunlight streaking through the canopy of leaves overhead.
“I never liked the sun. 'Tis just too...bright.”
“I much be prefer'n the cover o' night, o'er this blasted daylight!” Montaron agreed fervently.
Xzar shot his companion a sly glance.
"Tell us a story, Monty. Something with bears and gold."
“Shut it!” the halfling yelled. “Ye be living longer if ye don't annoy me!”
“If ye don't mind, please try to keep your voices down. There be beasties about with better hearing then we.” a soft but insistent voice intruded.
Montaron whirled around as Imoen opened her eyes and moved to a sitting position, bow at the ready. Laisha eyed the man warily, sizing him up as a hunter as Imoen glared at him.
“Hey, ya grouch!” she said indignantly, “we weren't shoutin' at all. We are adventurers and understand such things, ya know. Tell him, Laisha!”
“Sorry to have disturbed you” she said placatingly. “We were but resting a short while and will be on our way.”
The man's stern features softened somewhat.
“I did not intend for my words to scare you away. They were a simple warning of dangers true, and meant as nothing more. The occasional chat is certainly welcome, but perhaps today is just not the best day for it. My name is Aoln, and I hunt these woods for meat to feed my family.”
Laisha nodded.
“You're a hunter? Can you tell me what should I be wary of in this area?” she asked, mindful of the horrid gibbering beasts that had twice attacked her party.
“'Round here? I wouldn't worry yourself too much, unless you're brainless and charge everything you see.” Aoln cast an eye over the group as he spoke. “Mostly gibberlings out here, but they aren't too much of a hassle. A fair bow and good sword-arm could handle one, maybe two. More with mage or cleric backup. Wolves have become a bit more predatory lately. I think it's because more people are hunting for their food, seein' as how the iron shortage took away their normal livelihoods. A hungry wolf is a nasty thing, and I wouldn't travel without a group if I were you.”
“Thank you, that's sage advice.” Laisha decided to flatter the man.
“You seem quite at home out here. What's the most dangerous thing you've seen?
“The most dangerous thing I intentionally went after?” The hunters face darkened.
“Stalked an ogre mage for a few days once. Had a party of me own back then. Killed the ogre, lost the party. Not really worth the trade, if you ask me. I've seen more dangerous beasties, but usually over my shoulder as I'm making tracks as fast as I can. No shame in running when your life is on the line. Off with you now, I've meat to catch.”
“A lovely tale to tell a group of travelers on the road.” Hanu murmured to Laisha as he curled back up into her pack as Aoln disappeared back into the surrounding woods
“Ogre mage? Bah! Fairy tales to scare witless children! Any ogre I've ever met was too damn stupid to bother with magics. ” Montaron scowled as the party gathered themselves up to resume their travels.
They continued north, choosing to stay along the road, as the calls and cries from the forest set their nerves on edge. Restless, Hanu now scouted ahead, using his swiftness and silence to venture where the group dared not. At one point he returned to the group.
“There is something worth investigating to the left.” he announced, tail twitching with excitement.
“A most interesting ring half buried in the tall grass awaits your perusal. I believe it has some magical qualities that may come in useful if used correctly.”
Carefully they followed the cat off the path, where he led them to the abandoned ring. Both Laisha and Xzar made a grab for the ring as they too, could sense it's unmistakable magical qualities.
Laisha got there first, but held it out in her palm for the older wizard to study.
“I can sense its power, Xzar, but do you know exactly what it does?” she asked tentatively. The wizard leant in, one mad eye whirling crazily...he sniffed it, listened to it, caressed it with his skeletal fingers, even crooned to it wordlessly...Laisha watched his divining process with bemusement, right up to the point where the mage bared his teeth and went to bite it, whereupon she snatched her hand away with a barely concealed shudder.
“Bah! How can I divine its intentions if you will not allow me to study it fully?” the wizard complained.
“Never mind that. I'll figure it out myself, just you keep those teeth away from me!” she glared as Montaron snorted in amusement.
A third stone cairn soon pointed their way upon the path.
“Friendly Arm Inn to the North” , it stated, giving Laisha confidence that she was leading the group the right way. North they continued, deep into the night, until at long last a towering castle lay in sight to their tired eyes.
Laisha looked at the spires far in the distance with mixed feelings. The Inn ostensibly promised safety, and companions...but she had the prickly feeling of being herded there, by Gorion's letter, the hermit in the woods, even the strange wandering mage who had seemed so concerned with her mind state, and that made her irritable. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered whether the Friendly Arm Inn may not be friendly to her at all....
There's one thing I cannot agree with, though - a big sorry for that
I guess I see Xzar and Montaron as being pretty much on a par experience-wise with Charname and Imoen. They've done their basic Zhents 101 training, and then have been kicked out into the wide world on their very first mission. I see Montaron as being used to cities where he can filch and backstab unnoticed, he has some rudimentary knowledge of creatures that may infest the wilderness ("Now open your textbooks to G is for Gibberling, students" ;-)) but his bluster and surliness covers his actual lack of experience.
I think I also had him a little afraid of the thought of a huge ogre also wielding magics when I wrote this, so his response was an automatic reaction to that fear which was dismissive anger. The more I think on it, the more you're probably right, but that may bring him a little too close to my interpretation of Kagain later on - not necessarily a problem but just different to my initial viewing of the two!
Thank you a whole lot for your input though, it's very valuable and certainly gives me a lot of food for thought when trying to write for characters, I always enjoy hearing others viewpoints!
Again two very well-written installments. I found the way you linked Firebead Elvenhair to the letter on Gorion's body and recalled the incident with Elvenhair's Identify scroll particularly well done. You're very prolific by the way!
"Wisdom is only possessed by the learned" - they say
The more you read, the better. So, I would read everything to make the own writing even better
And confession time...most of what's been posted thus far had been largely pre-written, and I've just been tinkering around with editing it and changing a few things here and there. It will quickly become evident when I run out of that stuff (very soon) and go onto the half written parts...and then from there onto the "only vague ideas" sections. And that's when I'll start stealing large slabs of your work Ahem. Not really, Laisha and co will just wander aimlessly for a while and start talking about bunnies while I figure something out.