Author's note: I do love it how you get the best ideas for a story when you're meant to be doing other things, like sleeping or selecting courses for uni... eh. Such is life!

So, without further ado, here is the story of my Bhaalspawn =D

If you read it and like it, please review! This is my first real fanfic, so I may continue if I get good feedback, if not, well...I will assume that people don't like it. And Asharia will eat you.

Violent Encounters

Asharia took a deep breath and slowly opened the door to the Candlekeep library. She had hoped for a silent entrance, but the groan of the large door denied her this. She set foot in the wondrous place, her soft footsteps echoing through the marble laden interior; though her petite elven structure was significantly better used for stealth than most other races, she did not have the same grace as those of her kin. Asharia deduced that this was due to being raised by humans, and not being taught the same airs and elegance as her heritage.

Upon noticing the calibre of the noise, she tried for a more slower, more gentle pace. Why am I even bothering? She pondered. It wont make a difference if I disturb him now...He KNOWS. After all, he was the one who wanted to talk to me...

She was in trouble. Of that she was sure; stealing from Winthrop was not something that Gorion was expected to take lightly, even more so as she tried to escape from the guard - who had discovered her rummaging through the draws of some unfortunate patron, who was passed out on the bed – by striking him with her staff.

Damn that Imoen and her manipulative smile! If I'm the only one who gets the blame for this, I swear I'm gonna-

"Do not dally, child. It does not become you." Gorion's sudden booming voice brought her thoughts to a halt and made her jump a little in fright. She approached the desk where the old man sat, engrossed in the letter he was reading. Asharia noted in the candlelight that Gorion was wearing an intensely troubled expression, one that the mage rarely showed, unless what he was considering was grave indeed.

"S-Sorry, father." She stammered her reply, "You sent for me?"

Gorion placed the piece of parchment down and rubbed his forehead with his hand, "I wish to speak to you about a serious matter, Asharia."

Uh oh. As if it was that bad! She thought, suddenly worried. "I'm sorry father! I didn't mean to! It's just, well... Immy wanted to see how I'd go by trying her profession out, and-"

Gorion raised a hand to silence her, "Enough," he snapped, not looking at his foster daughter, "I am sure that issue has been taken care of, but the matter of which I want to discuss with you is far more important than that." There was something in his tone, some kind of urgency that made Asharia's hair stand on end. After several moments of awkward silence, the mage stood and faced his ward. "Listen to me. The time has come to leave this place. There are people, people who wish to do us harm, and we can stay here no longer."

"But father, this place is a fortress! Surely no one can reach us here?" Upon saying this, Gorion's expression softened a little, and he advanced to embrace Asharia.

"Dear child," He sighed, "you are so young and naive for the life that has been thrust against you." He held her at arms length, "We MUST leave. Here," he dug into the pouch attached to his belt and fished out a few gold and silver coins, "take this. Purchase what you need for the journey, and meet me back here in one hour."

Asharia quickly stuffed the money into her own pouch, "Please father, tell me where we are going? It may help me with what I buy-"

"Asharia, I cannot tell you, as I myself do not know. I trust your instincts, now go, spend it wisely."

And with that, Asharia, reluctantly, headed towards Winthrops inn.

"Oooooh! Exciting! So, you takin' me? Huh? Huuuuuh?" Imoen was helping Asharia gather her things for the journey, constantly asking every few minutes questions that she did know the answers to.

"Puuuuuullllleeeeaase?" Imoen looked at Asharia with pleading eyes, the look she knew she could not resist. She sighed, knowing the outcome.

"Alright, I'll ask if you can come, just stop pestering me!" Without warning, the smaller girl tackled Imoen, both girls laughing as they fell to the ground, wrestling with each other as they struggled to get up.

"I trust I aint interruptin' somthin'?"Asharia's mind, screaming danger, but she held her ground.

Asharia and Imoen ceased their antics immediately to see a sinister looking man, closely resembling a rat, leaning on the door frame, a dagger balanced on his index finger. An alarm went off in Asharia's mind; this man did not seem trustworthy, if the vicious look of disturbing glee distorting his face was anything to go by.

"And who might you be?" Asharia was surprised at the confidence in her own voice, as Imoen hid behind her.

"The name's Shank, you're Gorion's kiddy, aint ya?" The man smirked evilly as she nodded her head.

"What's it mean to you?"

"Heh, nothin' much. I must say, I aint real impressed, I expected somethin' alot more... well, more honestly." Upon hearing the hostility in his voice, Imoen fled. The man known as Shank grabbed the hilt of his dagger and slowly approached the remaining girl.

"I-I swear to whichever God you pray too, if you come any closer, I'll-"

"Ye'll what, throw a boot at me?" Shank chuckled evilly, and continued his advance, "Oh no, see, there's a VERY handsome bounty on yer head, and seein as I found ye first, you've little choice but to die."

And with that, he lunged the dagger towards Asharia's tiny frame. She thanked the Seldarine that she still had the fast reflexes of an elf, though when he swung his weapon again, she was not so lucky, scoring a small cut just above her brow. While she was distracted, Shank kicked her in the stomach, sending her flying across the room, her journey stopped by the force of the wall.

Panicking now, Asharia searched the room for an escape with wild eyes. All the windows had been nailed shut, if not for her own protection, to stop her and Imoen from escaping late at night. The door was her only chance, but she groaned inwardly when she noticed that he was blocking that exit.

Her only chance was to fight. Her small hands found her recently purchased short sword, its cold hilt rekindling her hope. Something tells me I'm not going to like this...

Shank was laughing to himself as he approached her, the wild look in his eye creating a hysterical and mad look about him. "Ohh, I'm gonna enjoy this!" Raising his dagger high, he asked "Any final requests?"

Without warning, Asharia plunged the sword into the small man's chest, yelling out in anguish. Shank screamed, looked at the sword he was impaled upon, then glanced at Asharia with disbelief. Finally, the fight left his face, and he collapsed on the ground, dead as dust.

Asharia took a moment to stand, and approached the body, wiping her now bleeding forehead with her sleeve. As she stood over Shank, glancing into his lifeless eyes, she felt a pang of terror; this was her first fight, and she had killed the offender. Tears sprang in her eyes, and she was soon sobbing. Collapsing on the bed, she heard footsteps approaching her, and then a strong embrace engulf her, making her cry even harder still.

"Come, child," Gorion's voice, calm and soft "let us leave this place."

Asharia took a deep, shuddering breath and nodded. Time to leave indeed.

Author's note: Soooooo.. you like?

You know the small review button down the bottom of the screen? The one that says review? Click it. You know you want to.