Biography of a disturbed fate
Loldrup
Member Posts: 291
I found this great portrait for my human female level 4 mage -> thief (EEkeepered to Shadowdancer). I decided to write a biography that would suit the sad expression in her portrait. This is my result (note: I'm not native to the English language).
Lilliad grew up as a happy child. Gorion took great care of her. She played around him when he worked and he jovially took part in her fantasy, always adding his own little twists to her tangled storylines. As a consequence, her growing years were his least productive period, intellectually. He didn't mind. He had already accomplished much, and had no desire to impress the world. She was very fond of him. She trusted him, even though she knew nothing about the nature of trust. She had never experienced anything opposite to trust. With Gorion being her only parent, her connection with him was extremely close. Even in her teens, her bond didn't fade. She was playful and touchy in her childish way, almost bordering to the inappropriate. Gorion were welcoming and warm to her approach, but still steady as a mast, never letting her cross the lines. Being a child, she didn't fully understand the intricacies of sexual relationships and he gently insured that he was not the one to teach her these aspect of life (note: here I’m not referring to the sexual act (as in ‘incest’), but rather to the complex social dynamics of adults sexual relationships (if in doubt, read some evolutonary psychology)). Gorion found it convenient not to touch those aspects. One could say he was a bit cowardish in this regard.
By nature she carried a reserved personality. She could never imagine anyone remotely sharing the role of Gorion in her life. Candlekeep, being a somewhat small community, only provided few candidates for close relationships. One of them was Imoen, the daughter of the innkeeper. She was the only child she kept a steady relation to. When Gorion got boring, or she felt adventurous, she would seek out Imoen. Imoen was her lens to the greater world of Candlekeep. Imoen would always be a step ahead and Lilliad always reluctant to follow that step. But she trickled her mind, and in her own pace, she opened up to Imoens world.
Only late did she open her eyes to other people. In her mid teens, a student arrived from Baldurs Gate. He was a few years older than she. For more than a year, she didn't notice him. He was not part of her carefully selected world. Only through Imoen did she start to notice the several young people who studied and lived in Candlekeep, including him. Indeed, especially him. He was made for her. She knew it. He played with her, just like Gorion did. Over time they grew closer. He was tender with her, and never approached her too fast. Yet still it came to happen. There was no natural brake on their playful interaction, and one evening she lay with him. She spent the night with him. It was the most intense and fulfilled moment of her life. She could hug him and hold him forever on.
The reaction came sharp and brutal. Rumours. Bad mouthing. Sarcastic remarks. She had known none of this before, had never known what it was all about or why it came to her. She still didn't know, yet she felt a tremendously strong shame. She had done something wrong. She was dirty. She knew it. Yet, she knew not why. She had had the greatest moment of her life, and now she was convinced it was horrible. Gorion could do only little to relieve her. He realised too late, that he had not prepared her properly for this aspect of life. Knowing how secluded she was, he blamed himself that he had not done more to teach her the more bleak realities of social life.
Shortly after, her love was taken away from Candlekeep. His parents had come to know of their relationship, and deemed it unfit. He was taken to a larger school in Neverwinther, and she never saw him again. He was just gone.
The following years, in her late teens, she thought much of what had happened. She contemplated the joy she had known. The happiness that she had lost. She began to study those aspects of social life that had hurt her so much. She studied human nature. Not in the way that others would do, through socialising, but through a strictly rational approach. She studied and learned the intricacies and idiosyncrasies of human thought and morale. And she didn't like what she learned. The crave for competition, the willingness to skew morality to own advantage, the preference for coherence over truth. She realised that something as imperfect as humans could never have been created by gods, and she lost her faith in them. Her childhood innocence had quickly withered away. Too quickly. She adopted a more cynical, pessimistic and indifferent view on the human life. She gave up her school’s training in the arcane arts. Dutifully she had followed in Gorions footsteps, but now she couldn't keep her motivation. The illusions that had carried her understanding of life was gone. In this period, nothing really mattered to her anymore. She even stopped liking her own name. ‘Lilliad’ was too joyful and carefree, she felt.
She adopted Imoens lifestyle, taking a greater interest in how to exploit human settlements, rather than in thriving in them. She used her knowledge of human nature to see how people’s attention can be manipulated and diverted. She learned how to hide in plain sight, pick people’s pockets, crack their locks and other manifestations of superficial social cunning. She would smile inside, when she lured a target in order to get her ways. She felt that she had finally learned their ways of manipulation. That she could beat them in their own game. Of course it was only an illusion. Her little tricks had only a passing resemblance with true social understanding. How little she knew.
Gorion saw what happened and felt remorse. There was little he could do now. He felt that his advice had no longer influence on her. To her, Gorion was part of the naive world of her younger self. The world she had lost. She couldn't figure out how to fit him into her new world, her dystopian reality. Still, she was deeply attached to him. The break with her love had cemented her in this relationship. His was her one and lasting connection. Her rock in a mean and unpredictable world.
One day, he asked her to pack her things. They were to leave Candlekeep. Just for a while. She didn't know to where, but thought not much of it. She had full trust in Gorion. She had never contemplated that even he could be the victim of the unpredictable actions of a perverted and cruel world. That possibility had always escaped her ponderings. It was probably the work of her subconsciousness. She wouldn't have been able to cope with such a complete loss of firm ground under her mental feet. It would have broken her in her young age.
When they walked out the gate, she recalled her young childhood days, where she would walk with him in the gardens of Candlekeep. It was just like then. Her and Gorion, just the two of them, walking along, living and reliving their happiest time together. She smiled and took his hand. She began to feel that maybe this journey could let her begin to reach for him again. That there was hope that she could reconcile her torn world with his.
But that night. At that spot. Her Gorion was slain to death.
...
She woke up to an especially cruel dawn, in her especially cruel world.
Lilliad grew up as a happy child. Gorion took great care of her. She played around him when he worked and he jovially took part in her fantasy, always adding his own little twists to her tangled storylines. As a consequence, her growing years were his least productive period, intellectually. He didn't mind. He had already accomplished much, and had no desire to impress the world. She was very fond of him. She trusted him, even though she knew nothing about the nature of trust. She had never experienced anything opposite to trust. With Gorion being her only parent, her connection with him was extremely close. Even in her teens, her bond didn't fade. She was playful and touchy in her childish way, almost bordering to the inappropriate. Gorion were welcoming and warm to her approach, but still steady as a mast, never letting her cross the lines. Being a child, she didn't fully understand the intricacies of sexual relationships and he gently insured that he was not the one to teach her these aspect of life (note: here I’m not referring to the sexual act (as in ‘incest’), but rather to the complex social dynamics of adults sexual relationships (if in doubt, read some evolutonary psychology)). Gorion found it convenient not to touch those aspects. One could say he was a bit cowardish in this regard.
By nature she carried a reserved personality. She could never imagine anyone remotely sharing the role of Gorion in her life. Candlekeep, being a somewhat small community, only provided few candidates for close relationships. One of them was Imoen, the daughter of the innkeeper. She was the only child she kept a steady relation to. When Gorion got boring, or she felt adventurous, she would seek out Imoen. Imoen was her lens to the greater world of Candlekeep. Imoen would always be a step ahead and Lilliad always reluctant to follow that step. But she trickled her mind, and in her own pace, she opened up to Imoens world.
Only late did she open her eyes to other people. In her mid teens, a student arrived from Baldurs Gate. He was a few years older than she. For more than a year, she didn't notice him. He was not part of her carefully selected world. Only through Imoen did she start to notice the several young people who studied and lived in Candlekeep, including him. Indeed, especially him. He was made for her. She knew it. He played with her, just like Gorion did. Over time they grew closer. He was tender with her, and never approached her too fast. Yet still it came to happen. There was no natural brake on their playful interaction, and one evening she lay with him. She spent the night with him. It was the most intense and fulfilled moment of her life. She could hug him and hold him forever on.
The reaction came sharp and brutal. Rumours. Bad mouthing. Sarcastic remarks. She had known none of this before, had never known what it was all about or why it came to her. She still didn't know, yet she felt a tremendously strong shame. She had done something wrong. She was dirty. She knew it. Yet, she knew not why. She had had the greatest moment of her life, and now she was convinced it was horrible. Gorion could do only little to relieve her. He realised too late, that he had not prepared her properly for this aspect of life. Knowing how secluded she was, he blamed himself that he had not done more to teach her the more bleak realities of social life.
Shortly after, her love was taken away from Candlekeep. His parents had come to know of their relationship, and deemed it unfit. He was taken to a larger school in Neverwinther, and she never saw him again. He was just gone.
The following years, in her late teens, she thought much of what had happened. She contemplated the joy she had known. The happiness that she had lost. She began to study those aspects of social life that had hurt her so much. She studied human nature. Not in the way that others would do, through socialising, but through a strictly rational approach. She studied and learned the intricacies and idiosyncrasies of human thought and morale. And she didn't like what she learned. The crave for competition, the willingness to skew morality to own advantage, the preference for coherence over truth. She realised that something as imperfect as humans could never have been created by gods, and she lost her faith in them. Her childhood innocence had quickly withered away. Too quickly. She adopted a more cynical, pessimistic and indifferent view on the human life. She gave up her school’s training in the arcane arts. Dutifully she had followed in Gorions footsteps, but now she couldn't keep her motivation. The illusions that had carried her understanding of life was gone. In this period, nothing really mattered to her anymore. She even stopped liking her own name. ‘Lilliad’ was too joyful and carefree, she felt.
She adopted Imoens lifestyle, taking a greater interest in how to exploit human settlements, rather than in thriving in them. She used her knowledge of human nature to see how people’s attention can be manipulated and diverted. She learned how to hide in plain sight, pick people’s pockets, crack their locks and other manifestations of superficial social cunning. She would smile inside, when she lured a target in order to get her ways. She felt that she had finally learned their ways of manipulation. That she could beat them in their own game. Of course it was only an illusion. Her little tricks had only a passing resemblance with true social understanding. How little she knew.
Gorion saw what happened and felt remorse. There was little he could do now. He felt that his advice had no longer influence on her. To her, Gorion was part of the naive world of her younger self. The world she had lost. She couldn't figure out how to fit him into her new world, her dystopian reality. Still, she was deeply attached to him. The break with her love had cemented her in this relationship. His was her one and lasting connection. Her rock in a mean and unpredictable world.
One day, he asked her to pack her things. They were to leave Candlekeep. Just for a while. She didn't know to where, but thought not much of it. She had full trust in Gorion. She had never contemplated that even he could be the victim of the unpredictable actions of a perverted and cruel world. That possibility had always escaped her ponderings. It was probably the work of her subconsciousness. She wouldn't have been able to cope with such a complete loss of firm ground under her mental feet. It would have broken her in her young age.
When they walked out the gate, she recalled her young childhood days, where she would walk with him in the gardens of Candlekeep. It was just like then. Her and Gorion, just the two of them, walking along, living and reliving their happiest time together. She smiled and took his hand. She began to feel that maybe this journey could let her begin to reach for him again. That there was hope that she could reconcile her torn world with his.
But that night. At that spot. Her Gorion was slain to death.
...
She woke up to an especially cruel dawn, in her especially cruel world.
Post edited by Loldrup on
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Wet? Grassy? Tangled? Cold? Rugged?? She failed to comprehend her senses. She couldn't even try. Her thoughts had vanished. Horror had taken their place. Her mind and her senses were indistinguishable from each other. The horrid images of Gorion rung in her head and swept everything else away. Her cheeks were wet. So was her pants.
Rugged? Perhaps. Why would she care. Motivation and curiosity had long left her. But the senses from her fingers really had changed. The wet grassyness between her digits had altered to a cold ruggedness. She failed to care.
A sound mixed itself into her stream of emotions. She wanted it to leave. She lifted her head but failed to focus on whatever it was that might have been in front of her. "Leave me be", she uttered slowly, before once again giving up on making sense of her world. The cold ruggedness disappeared as suddenly as it had arrived.
" Mam, do you need help? ". Kolssed had stood by her side for a few minutes, trying to reach her consciousness. Instead of answering his questions, she had twitched like a baby tasting lemon for the first time. Her hand had strayed and landed on his rugged leather boot. Now he kneeled by her side, and in the process he had withdrawn his foot from her hand. He was a heavy man, and kneeling was not a comfortable part of his repertoire of movements.
" Mam, you cannot just lie out here ... ". The voice rung in Lilliad's head. She could not comprehend it, and it only agitated her horror within. Her eyes finally managed to focus, but what they revealed was no pleasant sight. A winged demon tall as a tree kneeled above her. She shivered in fear. Kolssed looked worriedly at her. Shaking violently, she got up on her knees, grasping for firm ground behind her. Her hands found the trunk of a tree, and she grasped it while she raised her body by its side. She tottered backwards, too quickly letting go the support of the tree. She almost fell, but the sheer force of her movements kept her upright. “My God - your chest!”. That was the last thing the demon said. She ran.
...
She woke again. Not that she wanted to, but her sensory system relentlessly kept letting the world back in. She was cold, thirsty and hungry. She closed her eyes. Tears quickly emerged again and it took long before she took any action. She lifted her head from the ground. Grass and dirt had attached itself to her tear soaked cheeks. She took no corrective measures. She rolled over sideways, from lying on her stomach. She slowly looked down herself. Five long cuts spanned her shirt. Most likely the work of some claw. She felt a pain from her chest. Not that she cared. The condition of her shirt left not much of her decency. Her former self would have hurriedly covered herself, ensuring that no boys were around, before remedying the situation.
She looked at her pants. A wet spot stretched from her groin, almost down midways on both thighs. The stench of old urine struck her nose. The cold took over from her apathy in keeping her from herself. She was too tired. She just wanted to sleep. She rolled her curled cloak around her and did just so. Her dreams were nightmarish. Normally she would have woken from such dreams, soaked in sweat. Her poor bodily condition left no power for such extravagant movements. Her eyes kept watering, even in her sleep, and the dirt started sticking in them.
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She felt her shivering coming back. She figured it meant she was awoken once again. She sighted at the realisation. She didn't want to wake again. She noticed something else. Rays of warmth struck her on her left cheek. She tried to open her eyes, but the dried dirt made it difficult. She saw fire rummaging right next to her. The rest of the world was blacked out due to the illumination contrast, but she figured it was about dusk.
"You sure were hard to find!". The voice seemed familiar. She was almost certain she had heard it before. A figure leaned forward. "Would you like some tea? I made it with the Fireweed leaves you like so much" (note: Fireweed tea is actually a real thing. I chose it because of its cool name
A cup approached her in quick motion and almost spilled on her.
She recognised the face of Imoen. She could feel a hint of joy growing somewhere in her mind. It tried really hard to surface, though it was weakened by all the disturbing habitants of her mind. A tiny smile emerged on her lips, revealing that some part had made it through.
She raised her torso and reached out for the cup with a slow motion, but before she could grasp it she tilted over and had to stop her fall with her other hand. "Wow, you sure are messed up. Can't even hold your balance, huh? Just as old Wintrop when he has to test the quality of his beer deliveries. He sure takes quality assurance very seriously".
Another smile tried to show on her lips and this time it made a quite convincing appearance. Imoen sorely wanted to ask what had happened, but knew better than to do so. She had already found Gorions torn body and, clearly, her friend wasn't ready for anything beside having taken care of her basic needs.
"Lilliad, you ..." Imoen knew not what to say "you are.. you're hurt!" She had noticed Lilliad's torn shirt under her cloak. "Ohh I wish Gorion was here, he would've known such things. Let me take a look at ..." Lilliad froze when she heard his name, tears started wetting the mud around her eyes. "Ohh sorry, I didn't mean to..!" Imoen leaned forward and caressed Lilliad's messy hair. She embraced her in a long hug.
She had never seen her childhood friend like this. She knew not what to do or think and felt a very strong worry for her. She noticed the stench. "I think we need to get you out of these clothes... Let me.. let me help you with it". Lilliad let her do it, though she wasn't much of a help. Imoen put the cloak back on Lilliad, to shield her back from the cold.
Imoen stared at Lilliad's chest. " this will be one heck of a battle scar once it's healed! " Imoen was always ready with an inappropriate comment. Especially when she was nervous. She soaked a cloth in the pot of warm tea. "I hope this tea is good for more than drinking..". She started cleaning the wounds. Lilliad's skin was torn and the fatty layer below was visible in more than one place. Unfortunately this was especially so in the protruding parts of her chest. Blood and dirt had mixed in the wounds to make it a truly gut wrenching sight. Her previously pristine appearance were undeniably gone.
Imoen was very slow and meticulous in her cleansing. Lilliad didn't make any remarks during the process. She stared into the darkness around her. It must have been a very particular spot of darkness, as her eyes never veered from it.
Imoen started cutting makeshift bandages out of her own cloak. She covered the wounds with leaves and fastened them with the bandages, making a careful effort to pull the gaps in Lilliads chest together. "I guess ballroom dresses ain't gonna be your thing now on. Not that Candlekeep had any such parties. I wish!". Lilliad didn't respond. Imoen hesitated. "I think you need to clean yourself ... down there...". She passed her a newly wringed cloth and Lilliad slowly did as she was told, thouhj not very thoroughly. Her face was still a muddy mess, but none of them seemed to care right now.
"I found a letter on his b... well I found a letter... It seems we can get aid at the Friendly Arm Inn. There are people there who will help us". There was a long silence.
"Why did you come..?"
"You can speak! Oh my - I almost thought you'd lost both your tounge and your senses! Or at least one of them. I… accidentally read a letter on his desk the other day. Kinda figured something bad might happen to you out here. I weren't gonna let you wander around out here all alone. Never let a friend down, no ma'am!"
"I'm glad you came, sis". Lilliad paused. "So glad.." Imoen hugged her again, and gained a healthy dose of Lilliad's cheek mud on her own cheek. "You need not worry no more. I'm with you. I'll always be.". "Imoen, I don't think I ..." Lilliad whispered ever so hush. Imoen knew what she meant to say, but she didn't know how to respond. Whatever she said, it would be insufficient. "don't think of it now" she settled on. Time passed.
"You hungry? Tethoril makes this weird bread in his private chambers. He calls it 'rye bread'. It's all dark and sturdy, and, would you believe it! He puts a gooey mass of living fungi in it!. Well, I guess that didn't wet your appetite. I've never actually tasted it myself, but one time must be the first, I thought, and I was in a hurry when I left Candlekeep. I hope he found something else for his breakfast". They consumed the sturdy bread in silence.
"We should do something about your cloths. At least, it needs a good washing. I'll take it to the stream nearby, okay?" Lilliad froze. It was not okay. She couldn't stay alone with the dark all around her. "Take me with you!". "okay, but, don't you think you should keep your rest?". Lilliad refused. She stood up and stumbled towards Imoen. Imoen took her hand and collected Lilliad's cloth with the other hand. "you sure are funny sometimes. You prefer to stumble naked around in the darkness, rather than sitting by the warm fire". They crouched at some stones that lay by the stream. Imoen dipped Lilliad's cloth in the calm water and started scrubbing it. Lilliad washed herself again.
Back at the fire, they hung Lilliad's cloth on a couple of sticks that Imoen jammed into the soil near the fire. They went to sleep in a close formation, with their cloaks wrapped around the both of them. Imoens backpack served as a pillow. A few stars protruded through the branches above them. Their sleep came swiftly.
----------
Lilliad watched Imoen. She had Lilliad's shirt in her lap. She carefully thread a needle through the garment, mending the tears from whatever device had torn it. "If we are to travel together, you need to uphold a minimum level of decency in your appearance" she said in a serious tone, without being serious at all. "There are those of us who still try to uphold a certain reputation in relation to the opposite gender..." She looked teasingly at Lilliad, mostly to ensure that her rough joke was well received. Lilliad hesitated. "umm, well yes, I guess I will have to work pretty hard to aspire to your levels of gracious appearance and lifestyle...", she replied, making no attempts at hiding her sarcasm. Truth be told, none of them were masters in the discipline of 'gracious appearance and lifestyle'.
Imoen teemed inside. She could feel the old Lilliad coming back. Far from the scared wounded deer she had found lying in the wilderness yesterday. Imoen was convinced her lighthearted interaction was just the right cure. ... as long as she remembered not to mention mr. G. She was proud of herself. You don't get to be the hero every day, but this was her moment. She could show she meant their friendship very seriously.
"My keen senses reveal that we should go..." Imoen spun around with her finger pointing in all directions, "THAT way". She stopped her rotation as her finger pointed towards a not particularly passable part of the wilderness. "Okay, I'm cheating, but take a look at this device. No matter how I rotate, it still point in the same direction!". Lilliad took a look. "Gorions compass!". "Oh yes.. thats the name. Compass. I all forgot... ". Imoen tried to divert the conversion. "Where did you..?" Lilliad didn't finish her sentence. "never mind..", she added. Imoen gleered her way, anxious to see what reaction Lilliad might endure from having been reminded of Gorion. Lilliad upheld herself: " yes.. you're right. we should go."
They started walking in Imoens appointed direction. The difficulty of the terrain left them enough concentration to uphold a conversation. Not that they used the opportunity. Not for a while at least. Imoen did her part, but Lilliad was very quiet.
"I saw a woman", she finally said. "There was a woman with the man that...". She went silent once again. Imoen found it appropriate not to interrupt. "She looked into my eyes. I couldn't look away. It was as if I was spellbound." Lilliad paused. "Maybe you were..?", Imoen finally added. "I'm not sure. I don't know. There was something about her. It felt as if she wanted to communicate with me. Warn me somehow. Not that it worked so well. That man, her man, came close to me and gave me this wound. Only then did I run."
"How do you know they were together..?" "It just felt that way. She warned me against herself. Against her emotions." Imoen went silent. "That was a good advice. Walking around and killing innocent people can only stem from bad emotions. You don't want any of that!". Imoens response was thoughtful as ever. "I don't think that's what she meant", Lilliad responded.
"I don't hope I ever meet them again."
Imoen didn't care what the woman had meant. She was surprised and glad that Lilliad had already been able to talk about what happened. Her worries waned. All they had to do was to reach the Friendly Arm Inn and they'd be safe.
They spent another night in the wilderness. A strong pair of wanderers could have reached the Friendly Arm Inn by late evening in one days march, if following the main roads. But they were not strong wanderers, and they were far away from any roads. Imoen knew it would be unwise to exhaust the wounded Lilliad once again. Tethorils rye bread came to good use.
Lilliad adopted a habit of carefully looking around herself frequently during their travel. She feared the two of them could easily share the same fate as she and Gorion had. "What if she can read my mind and I reveal where we are..?". Lilliad thought of the woman again. "That's nonsense Lilliad. Don't be silly now". Imoen wanted to frame Lilliad's proposition as ridiculous, but she was honest with herself when she realised she actually knew nothing about the ways of magic. "why did they even attack us. who were they." Lilliad didn't really utter these as questions. As well, she didn't get any answer.
By late noon the next day, they saw the tower of The Friendly Arm Inn rise over the trees. Imoen looked at Lilliad with a big smiles all over her face. "See, sis! we could do it! We're safe now!" They walked hastily the remaining few hundred metres and felt a sense of glory as they marched through the gate with their heads raised high. Even though it was just to admire the mighty building rising high above them. They almost ran the last few metres to the stair case. Imoen a bit ahead of Lilliad.
Lilliad saw Imoens face change. Almost as if in slow motion (note: making allegations to modern audio-visual concepts? Ohh yes! Whatever it takes to portray this moment). An expression of shock spread across Imoen's face. In a split second, Lilliad mirrored her reaction. Her body tensioned, her center of gravity lowered, her torso twisted and leaned backwards. "RUN!!", she heard Imoen scream. With her face already halfway turned around, she saw a red sphere of concentrated light shoot right past Imoens now illuminated red hair. They ran.
The sound of agitated shouts reached them from behind. The men guarding the castle were in wild commotion. The shouts then mixed with the sound of swords and wood in fierce collisions. More sudden lights illuminated them from behind. They heard men scream.
They settled behind some stones a few hundred metres from the castle. Lilliads shirt changed colour along the carefully seamed tears. "What was that??", Imoen stuttered, short of breath. She got no reply. Lilliad sat stiff right up, with feet and hands firmly planted in the ground. Her hands grasped tightly in the grass and her breath was frantic. Her eyes starred as if frozen on a distant black spot that wasn't there. "Ohh no Lilliad, please come back. I need you..."
"They ran that way!" Imoen heard the voice of a man and frightened looked up from their hide. A woman approached from the gate. It clearly wasn't the figure they had confronted at the stairs. Lilliad was immobile. Imoen could only await the womans arrival and hope she had good intentions.
"You can return now". The woman emerged behind the stones and gave Imoen a stern look. "Are you alright?" "it's not me - it's my sis..." The woman took a short look at Lilliad. She kneeled down and looked close into her face. She whispered some words Imoen could hardly comprehend and made some faint gestures with her hand. Lilliad's facial expression relaxed. For a second she managed to focus on the woman's eyes and she looked as if she was about to ask her a question. Then her eyelids got heavy and her head sunk down. "what did you..?" The woman grasped Lilliad's body and broke off Imoens question: "come along!"
Also, even if you are not English native, I think you write very well
Let's see if Lilliad and Imoen have escaped their assassin:
---------
Imoen grabbed her backpack and hurried after the woman. She had no idea what had just happened. She crossed her fingers, begging that this was not another trap.
They entered the massive castle. There was large amounts of blod on the very steps she had climbed just minutes earlier. She gasped at the sight. A big warrior stood at the top of the stairs. He held a blood soaked sword in his hand and was wiping it with some cloth. As he saw them, he paused and rushed to aid the woman, carrying Lilliad the remaining steps up the stairs. Imoen imagined the battle that had taken place here. The warriors sword in fierce struggle for life or death, against a powerful sorcerer of evil. In Imoens world, legendary deeds had always unfolded in tales of times long past, but now she felt as if it had been within a hairs width from her. Indeed she had felt the very heat from the assassins deadly sorcery, but this hero in front of her had not just run from it. He had faced it and conquered it. She was just a spectator.
They entered the large central hall of the Inn. The place was full of people and there was quite a commotion after the incident at the stair case. Any hope of a discrete visit to the Friendly Arm Inn had vanished with the mysterious attacker. But still, having Lilliad carried unconsciously through the unsettled mass of customers by a mighty warrior with a blood soaked sword in his belt, managed to make the unworsenable even worse, Imoen figured.
They climbed another staircase and soon entered a stylish looking room with a large bed in the opposite end of the entrance. The warrior placed Lilliad on the bed and arranged her limbs so she lay straight on the mattress. The woman looked worriedly at the darkened pattern across Lilliad's chest. She started undressing Lilliad and undoing the bandages. Before she finished, she paused, looking at the warrior. "You can leave now". "Oh yes, of course". The warrior left and closed the door behind him.
"So what happened here?" The woman looked at Imoen as if for at terse situational report. "uhmmmm.." Imoen stuttered. "I'm not entirely sure.. It was something with a man and a woman. And a claw... I think".
The woman gave her a resignated look. Imoen tried again. "She was travelling with her father in the wilderness, and then suddenly they were attacked and Gorion..." Imoen was instantly interrupted. "Gorion?? She's the foster child of Gorion?". Imoen nodded. The woman paused. "Then I must assume the worst. Gorion would not allow his wards to journey without him." Imoen confirmed her suspicion with a slow nod and a stolen gaze into the woman's eyes.
"This needs to be sewn. Will you fetch two bowls with steaming water". The woman didn't paused to look at Imoen, but started plucking items from a small bag that hung on a dresser by the wall. Imoen rushed down the stairs. The mighty warrior was waiting in the big hall. She looked at him with a stolen glare, and when he saw what she was doing, he even helped her bring the bowls.
After a thorough cleansing, the woman started stitching Lilliad's wounds. Imoen thought her own needlework on Lilliad's shirt pretty neat, but realised she was facing a true master of needles here. The pink wounds closed with a perfect finish from start to end. "I'm going to give her one of these. It will speed her recovery significantly." The woman pulled a small bottle from her bag. It had a blue liquid inside. "ohh such a one! I've had two of these in my bag all along! I just didn't know what they were for..! I guess I should have asked the owner, but then again, that would probably have made it a lot harder to, ehm, acquire them. You can't have it all!"
"It's good you didn't use them. They can accelerate the healing process, but they don't outright improve on it. Scars will be scars. Had she had it without being sewn first, her chest would've been mutilated for life". Imoen thanked her lucky ignorance. "The result would've been pretty messy", the woman elaborated.
As Lilliad started to wake, the woman helped her ingest the potion. They watched as the wounds on the still dizzy Lilliad started to close themselves. It was an amazing process. For a full hour, Imoen couldn't take her eyes from it. "What are you starring at..?" Lilliad mumbled. "You wounds! They are closing up, just like that!" Imoen snapped her fingers for illustration. "Umm, sure..", Lilliad's responce was unimpressed and she closed her eyes again.
The woman decided that Lilliad would still have to wear a bandage for a few days, to prevent another accidental tear in her newly mended skin.
As Lilliad woke from her blunder, Imoen was eager to tell her what had happened and relate how the mighty warrior had slain their would-be assassinator.
"Now tell me girls. Why were you leaving Candlekeep? What was Gorions plan?"
"I, don't really know..", as were the truth. The plans and purpose of their journey, she had fully left to Gorion. Lilliad was interrupted.
"I found a letter. It's from some guy named Mr. E". Imoen tried to sound as confident as the woman in front of them. "Let me see it..", the woman requested. "uhmm yes.." Imoen replied. "I had it somewhere.." Imoen searched her pockets. Failing to find it, she started going through her backpack. "I'm sure it's here somewhere". She had given up on sounding confident. Pots and trinkets and bits of rye bread spread across the floor. "Ahh, here it is!" Imoen exclaimed, from deep within her backpack.
The woman read it carefully. She looked worriedly at the girls. "We also found a letter on the assassin's body..". The woman handed it to Lilliad. Lilliad read it to herself, with Imoen reading over her shoulder. Lilliad failed to express how worried she became. " They've.. put a price on me...". Imoen took the letter. "Ohh my! You have a real bounty on your head!! Maybe that woman and her man were bounty hunters as well."
"But why.. I'm not worth anything..." Lilliad silently hoped to be corrected, but Imoen didn't catch her hint.
"If they come again, couldn't we just pay them the bounty? If it's money they are for, I'm sure we could scrape some together, right? Lilliad and I could perform some tricks on a local marketplace or something. She's quite the acrobat! At least in bed, I've heard..."
"How dare you!" Lilliad flew up from her seat. "Eat fist you thiefling!" Lilliad overpowered Imoen and jammed her hand straight into Imoens mouth. "mmmmMMM!" That was the only sound Imoen could make.
"Girls, stop that!" The woman tore them apart. "It's not going to be that easy, and it's certainly not going to be easier if you start fighting each other. Your best hope is to stay on the move until we figure out what is going on". "We can escort you. We're going south very soon. We have business in Naskell". She didn't reveal that their supervision was actually Gorions long standing orders, in case something should happen to him.
"You and the .. warrior..?" Lilliad replied. "Yes. Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Jaheira. And the warrior is my husband. Khalid".
Lilliad and Imoen stared at her. She was married to the warrior. They let it sink in, but tried to hide their awe. "We've been together for a long time" she added. She had noticed their expression.
"And your names..?" The girls introduced themselves, but Jaheira already knew who they were, now she had them connected with Gorion.
"You need to equip yourself for the journey. Especial, you will need some armour. But right now we need a meal. Let's clear up and go down stairs." They started tidying the place and packing a few things together.
"There's something I don't understand..". Lilliad paused her cleaning. "That assassin, how could he know who we were..? He recognized the both of us within a blink of a second." Lilliad got worried. "It's that witch! I let her read my mind! ohh, I'm such a fool."
Her theory sounded plausible. Imoen and Jaheira looked at each other. "We just have to stay on the move. Then we'll be safe." Jaheira tried to sound comforting, but didn't quite succeed. "Come, let's go".
"So, yes, umm, we definitely need some armour. To protect those attributes from further, umm, 'incidents'". She pointed at Lilliad's chest.
"Imoen!!" Lilliad wasn't particularly happy with Imoens direct reference, nor with having it revealed that she had had any sort of 'incidence' in that region at all.
Bentley appropriately ignored their little exchange. "Well, certainly! Mam, I think I've got just the right thing for thy friend". He trodded down the corridor and the others followed along. "Let's see, let's see.. Ohh there it is!" He gleaned at the uppermost shelf and started looking for the small ladder he used to reach the upper shelfs.
"Let me take it for you". The warrior stretched his arm and effortlessly reached the nifty set of leather armour that Bentley had identified. The gnome looked at him grumpily, not at all happy for his help.
Khalid turned to Lilliad and the big warrior carefully helped her mount the piece around her torso. "I think it suits you very fine.. " he slowly remarked.
"Well I’m not sure it adds to your charms", Imoen remarked in a carefree tone. "Look at your chest now, it's pushed all flat."
"Imoen!! I think my, ehm, forms, are given way too much attention in this conversation! How about you try it on?? Let's see you in it!"
"No way! It would never fit my bust size". "Very funny. We're practically clones of each other, in every relevant aspect".
"Huh? That must be some kind of optical illusion, caused by your shorter stature.." "Half an inch Imoen! That's nothing!" Lilliad quickly unstrapped the armour.
"Then let's ask Khalid! Who would you say has the biggest bust..? Me or miss shorty here?" Imoen strut with her chest and lips in Khalid's direction.
"You're cheating! You can't use your hands like that!", Lilliad objected.
"Just stand like this" Lilliad put up a pose like a frozen corpse in upright position. Imoen was quick to respond: "And you're wearing that extra bandage! Who do you call cheater??"
Khalid stuttered.. "I.. I don't think..."
Jaheira hid her face in her hand.
Bentley was suddenly very busy fixing a button in his shirt. "Ehm, well! just let me know when you've found the equipment you need. I'll be upstairs". The shopkeeper hurried up the ledge.
They left the inn early the next morning. Sleep didn't come easily to Lilliad that night. The previous nights she had been so heady that she had immediately fallen asleep. But not tonight. Lots of things came to her mind. Not counting the horrible loss of her father, which took a great share of her worries, she couldn't figure out Imoen anymore. Not that she ever really could. Imoen and her were the best of friends. When they were together they had all the joy they could care for. It was only when others got involved that things got complicated. Imoen was a floundering soul, ever on the lookout for excitement. That made their friendship complicated. Brothers in arms when just the two of them, but nefarious alliance partners when in bigger circles. It was as if Imoen always were striving higher. There were always a better apple on the tree than Lilliad. Lilliad shivered at the realisation. She was always the awkward one out. She felt alone. And missed Gorion terribly. Imoen heard her sob.
The next day was great. They strolled out the gate in their new equipment, with a mighty warrior and a no doubt powerful spellcaster by their side. Who could harm them? Imoen was playful and warm. She didn't seem as nefarious today. Lilliad relaxed and enjoyed her company. They walked pair and pair. Their new travel companions were clearly very protective of them. But it was also clear to Lilliad that her and Imoen hadn't managed to connect with them. There was a gap of some sort. Lilliad hoped it was only an age gap and wished for these years to pass by in a second. Inside, she suspected the gap to be more than that. She longed for the day she could simply blend into the world. She could be one of those first ladies that had the world spun around themselves. How did they do it..?
"Hey look at this!" Lilliad saw a powerful flash of light cast her shadow on the ground before her. Imoen had stopped a few metres behind. Lilliad turned, fearful. Remains of the light show still shimmered around Imoen. Imoen looked like a knight trying a master sword for the first time. She had a grind from ear to ear. "Did you see that!!? This necklace is awesome! I wonder what it does??" Imoen was left with a weird steel-ish tone all over her body.
"... a shield amulet!? where did you..??"
Jaheira had turned around and gave Imoen a confused look. "Bentley...? You took it from his chamber?? Ohh no, you fool. Stealing from honest people is beyond our dignity! You have to give it back when we return. If we return..." The last part she said with a stern voice, as if she knew more about some grave reality than they did. It sure put a dampening on Lilliad and Imoen. They set in motion again and trodded through the hilly landscape. The two groups kept their respectful distance. Imoen kept her silvery glow for a long time. "I bet one could go to battle naked with this one" Imoen said, looking teasingly at Lilliad. "He, you wish!" "That sure could confuse the enemy.. Maybe it's worth a try?", Imoen replied. "Definitely! But you’ll go first!"
This is a painting by Artastrophe, a portrait of Tamoko.
http://artastrophe.deviantart.com/art/Tamoko-366771786