Ok, my tribute to my one of my favorite game series ever. I have several
chapters already done, but since every writer is blind to his own mistakes
I'd like some feedback. Please, be as harsh as you need. I'm a big boy, I
can take it. Just remember that I'm not a native English speaker so some of
the possible "clunkiness" of the language I use comes from that.
If I ever get round to it, I plan to write this one to the end, straight through Bg1 to Bg2 and finishing at TOB. I don't have TOTSC so Aidan and co. won't be visiting Durlag's Tower etc. Basically, this is a labor of love I use to relax myself in between my studies.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, 'cept Aidan. He's totally my creation. The rest of them, and much of their dialogue was written by the folks at Bioware/Blackisle.
Cursed Heritage 1 - The Dark Half
Chapter 1 - Childhood's End
It was going to be a busy day.
An early summer morning was dawning on the library fortress of Candlekeep, the weather was lovely and young Aidan couldn't have felt any better even if he had tried. The young apprentice wizard had lived his whole life of 20 years in the library fortress, and he yearned to travel the Realms. Aidan smelled the delicious aromas of breakfast wafting from Winthrop's Inn, where he was headed. He felt his mouth water at the thought, but heroically managed to conquer his love of pastries, remembering his foster father's stern demand that only essentials for a long trip were to be bought. Aidan wondered for a moment, what could have upset his foster father Gorion so. Aidan had spoken to him very briefly after being woken up early by the old man, and he had never seen Gorion so harried before. His foster father was a powerful wizard and Aidan couldn't even begin to guess what was wrong. Nevertheless, he pushed the door open and stepped inside the Candlekeep Inn.
Winthrop greeted him warmly and tried to pull one of his awful jests on Aidan. The young wizard grinned, remembering that Winthrop's jokes hadn't fooled him since he was six. Aidan bought some essentials from the old innkeeper, since he needed no weaponry other than his staff. The young wizard had mastered the "Armor" spell just a few days back and was feeling dangerously arrogant. Defense was hardly important, he would be travelling with his father. No brigand would be a match for Gorion! Aidan almost wished that they would encounter some bandits or hobgoblins. Just to see Gorion use his magical arts, something which the elderly sage rarely did these days.
After gathering the food and the new bedroll he had purchased, Aidan saw a familiar old figure wave at him from the corner. It was Firebead Elvenhair, an old wizard who had infrequently visited the keep since Aidan could remember. He walked to where the old man was finishing his breakfast.
"Ah yes, I'm back within the hallowed halls of Candlekeep. With this iron crisis upon us, the trip from Beregost was more hazardous than I care to relate..." The old mage remarked.
"You're Gorion's ward, aren't you?"
Aidan nodded at him.
"My, you have come into your own, if you would permit an old man jealous of youth to say so... Hmm, I left an Identify 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."
Running errands had been Aidan's chief income up until now. "Why not make some money before leaving?" Aidan thought and agreed to look into the old mage's task. He then departed the inn, inhaling at the fragrant breeze. A quick glance towards the horizon worried him somewhat, though. A storm was coming, ruining the up until now beautiful day.
"Aidan! Aidan!"
Somebody was hollering his name. Aidan glanced over his shoulder and saw yet another old wizard, Phlydia. With a gallant effort, he managed to suppress his grin which he knew would upset and confuse the older woman.
"Oh, hello! Hey, have you seen my copy of "The History of Halruaa" anywhere?"
"Of course she had managed to lose something!" Aidan thought.
"You know how I can't stand the constant shuffling of arthritic feet up in the library..." He could already guess where this was heading.
"So I thought I'd get a bit of fresh air just east of here and... Oh, I hate being so absent-minded! Please, if you find it, I really do need it back."
Aidan agreed to try and find her book. He liked Phlydia, in a surrogate aunt kind of way. He hadn't known his real mother, or father. Gorion hadn't married so there hadn't been any real maternal figures in Aidan's life. He shook his head ruefully, suddenly a little less pleased about the coming "adventure". He would miss that dear old lady!
Trying to gather a little spring in his step after these darker thoughts, he spied his old friend Dreppin in the distance. Dreppin worked at the stables, taking care of both the cows and the horses ridden by the visitors to the keep. His friend was a few years Aidan's senior, but while Dreppin had grown strong and hardy from all the work, there was no question about who was the brains in their team. Aidan had been a natural student of the arcane under Gorion. He had learned everything easily and without a hitch, even though their disciplines were different.
Gorion was a Mage, a generalist wizard while Aidan had chosen to be a Conjurer. Summoning creatures and objects to aid him had always fascinated him, and despite Gorion's warnings of the danger of such endeavors, he had managed to learn the necessary skills. Even while gathering lavish praise from Tethtoril and Phlydia, Aidan remembered Gorion having always seemed a little. sad? Aidan couldn't fathom the reason. But he had learned the Art and great powers would be his to command in the future.
"Phlydia left one of her books in here again." Dreppin's cheerful voice jolted him away from his lofty dreams of power.
"It's in the hay, there, beside the cow. If you could run it over to her and then come back, I've got some plans for you."
Dreppin had plans for him? Aidan looked at the lazy, round face of his friend and instantly knew Dreppin's plan. One final errand for his lazy friend, Aidan thought and fished out Phlydia's book from the haystack. How on Faerun had she managed to lose it in there, Aidan couldn't fathom. He brushed the errant straws from the book and started back towards Phlydia.
"My book!" Predictably, she was overjoyed.
"Oh, you remind me of Gorion when you grin like that." She chided Aidan.
"Raising you has been hard on him, I know, but he says it's a toil of love, a toil of destiny, even. You must be a very special child, indeed, to draw such praise from a man of his silent nature... Here, take this little gem of mine. Maybe Winthrop will give you a little something for it."
She handed Aidan a small gray gemstone and left for the inner grounds of the keep. Aidan had studied some gemology under Gorion's tutelage and he recognized Phlydia's stone as a Lynx Eye. Not particularly valuable, but a nice little prize nonetheless. He stuffed it into one the pouches hanging from his gray and tan robes. He started off towards the stalls again. Too bad Dreppin couldn't come with them he mused as he heard a distant crack of thunder. Perhaps the day wouldn't be as beautiful as he had thought at first after all.
"Nice day, ain't it?"
Aidan gazed worriedly towards the darkening sky to which Dreppin seemed oblivious.
"Too bad Nessa, here," Dreppin pointed to one of the cows "ain't enjoyin' it, though, her bein' sick 'n' all. I need to get her one of them potions of antidote off Hull. He stayed up drinkin' last night and got hauled outa bed to man the gates early this morning so I bet he's got a few of them lyin' around somewheres."
So that was Hull's secret! His fortitude in the face of morning hangovers was legendary in the keep. Hull often quaffed large amounts of liquor in the evenings and yet managed to show up to work by the next morning. Aidan wasn't a huge fan of hard drink himself, but made a mental note to remember the trick just in case. He nodded affirmatively to Dreppin and began walking towards the gates where Hull would surely be found.
Near the warehouse where he usually helped the dwarf Reevor in his tasks Aidan saw Jondalar beckoning towards him. Jondalar was a younger watcher, and was enjoying a rare day off. He wasn't wearing the customary heavy armor of watchers but did carry the quarter staff, similar to Aidan's own.
Aidan greeted the young watcher as he drew closer.
"Hey there Aidan! I see you're up early this day. Well your father, Gorion, has asked me a strange favor. Seems like he wants you to learn some fighting and asked me to be the teacher. So I hope you brought your staff with you."
Aidan had received some very rudimentary self defense lessons on how to use his staff, but this was certainly new. Was this trip going to be dangerous? This was certainly going to be a short, mock combat and Aidan welcomed the opportunity.
They both took up fighting stances, Jondalar practiced and confident, Aidan clumsily and nervous. Jondalar let Aidan take the first swing. He aimed, swung with greater force than was truly safe and missed by a mile. Jondalar chuckled and lightly tapped Aidan on his shoulder with his staff. At the same time, Aidan felt a slightly more painful strike in his back. He made a quick glance over his shoulder and saw Erik, a friend of Jondalar's wielding a child's toy bow and padded toy arrows against him.
Feeling his cheeks redden with embarrassment at being the center of such a display he felt another hit from Jondalar as the other man took advantage at his sudden predicament. This went on for a few minutes until Aidan managed to land a clean hit to Jondalar's ribs. Surprisingly, he got congratulated by both of the watchers.
"You did good kid, especially after Erik started firing those arrows at ya." Jondalar praised him.
"I'm sure your father would be proud. You should go talk to the Gatewarden if you want some experience in fighting with a group of people. You can find him just south of here. Out there it can be pretty important to know how to fight with allies at your side."
True words, Aidan thought, and decided to heed them closely.
Unfortunately he didn't get very far, for Aidan was pounced on by a small, smelly dwarf. Reevor was in charge of taking care of the warehouses in the keep, and took his role very seriously. He had often bullied Aidan and Dreppin into doing his dirty work on the pretense that he was their "superior officer"! Aidan winced when he saw Reevor scowling at him and bellowing at his heavily accented common.
"I thought I asked you to clean the rats out of this building yesterday, already. Hop to it! Get in there!"
Asked? Reevor didn't know the meaning of that word, Aidan thought, but resignedly entered the small warehouse regardless. What followed was an epic hacking match which ended in Aidan's victory. The rats were completely routed, leaving four of their number behind as casualties.
Aidan flicked a glance warily at the door, and hastily rummaged through the crates. He guessed that Reevor wouldn't reward him and thus snurched a small silver ring in to the same pouch as the gem he had gotten from Phlydia. He then returned outside and presented Reevor his four "kills".
"Ah yes, kill them like the rats that they are! A glorious battle unlike any this world has ever seen... Here's 5 gp, don't spend it all in one place."
Aidan was flabbergasted, Reevor actually giving money away! Who would have guessed. Smiling to himself, Aidan continued on towards the gates.
The young mage spotted Hull standing at his post near the gate. He waved at the guard in a friendly manner.
"Hey kid, 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 on the right side of the barracks. Quick now, before the Gatewarden catches me without it."
Aidan asked him about the antidote.
"You'll also find that there, hurry now!"
Perhaps his drinking had affected Hull's memory after all, Aidan mused as he continued on towards the southern end of the fortress and the barracks. He stopped by the healer's house and got a potion of healing from the Oghman priest there. That would certainly come in handy if the future held any danger.
As if summoned by thought, the Gatewarden caught up with Aidan. He was the captain of the watchers, a stern but effective officer.
"Soon be gone, will ye? Aye, Gorion arsked me to teach you a whit about the finer arts o' mass combat 'afore ye leave. Can I pique yer int'rest with it, Aidan?"
Mass combat skills? Just what kind of trouble were they going to run into, Aidan thought. This was sounding more ominous by the moment. He simply nodded affirmative, and Gatewarden pointed towards the training hall.
"Good, then, child. 'Tis one thing to maintain control o' yerself in the heat of battle but 'tis quite another to maintain one's authority o'er a group. I've arsked Obe the illusionist to run through a few simulations fer ye down in the storage cellars. Just follow me this way an' I'll unlock the door fer ye..."
Gatewarden led Aidan to the doors of the cellar that served as the combat training hall for the watchers and unlocked it's door. He then left and Aidan decided to finish his other tasks first. The training could wait, he wouldn't be in any danger until they were outside the keep.
Aidan opened the barracks doors and brazenly waltzed in. Military protocol never had been very important for him. He saw Fuller, another watcher and a good friend of Hull's sitting in a stool looking very much hung over. Aidan liked the older veteran, Fuller was primarily responsible for the more "worldly" things that Aidan knew.
"Ugh, what a mead-filled night. 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?"
Aidan told him he was out fetching Hull's sword. Fuller smiled brokenly and pointed out his friends' chest. Aidan opened it and grabbed the long sword and a vial of green poison antidote he found inside. After promising Fuller that he'd fetch a quarrel of crossbow bolts from the Inn Aidan headed back outside. Instead of being grateful, Hull gave Aidan one of his best scowls and scolded him out.
"Took your sweet time, didn't you? Gorion's a fool for trying to bring you up right and you can tell him I said so, too. If I didn't know any better, I'd say this whole iron crisis is the result of twerps like you wandering off with people's swords. Here's 10 gp. Now get out of here, I'm on duty."
Aidan grabbed the coins and merely smiled at the old watchers migraine induced wrath. His smile faltered however, when he heard the clap of thunder near and felt the first drops of rain fall on his arm.
He ran the rest of the way to the cow pens. Trying to avoid the rain was most likely futile, but Aidan decided to try it anyway. Dreppin didn't mind being wet, receiving the antidote was more than enough for Aidan's simple friend.
"Heh, yer a wonder, you are. Stick with me and we'll go far... Well, okay, stick with me and we'd prob'ly never leave the walls of Candlekeep, would we..."
Dreppin had always dreamed of being a mighty warrior and a hero like Drizzt the Drow or Wulfgar the Barbarian.
"Hmm, good thing you ain't wearin' none of that metal armor, though, as I hear that the bandits out there would just as soon kill you as look at you to get it off your back. I just hope this whole iron crisis business is wrapped up soon."
Again with the "iron crisis". Aidan wondered what that business was all about. All he had heard were the scattered rumors spread by the visiting merchants. Iron was supposedly becoming scarce through the Sword Coast. Aidan started to run off towards the inn to seek shelter and buy the bolts when he was intercepted by yet another old friend.
This time it was Tethtoril, one of Gorion's best friends in the keep. Aidan too loved the old priest like a grandfather he had never had. Tethtoril caught up with him, and wheezed for breath.
"Firebead has sent you to me, hasn't he..." The old priest gasped.
The scroll! Aidan had forgotten about Firebead's task completely!
"Very well, return this scroll to him but then you must hurry and speak with Gorion. He is waiting for you on the steps of the central library. I assure you, child, it is a matter of greatest urgency."
The old man took off, his red robes fluttering about him as he ran towards the inner grounds, probably to seek shelter from the rain inside the library. Aidan glanced at the scroll and saw that it was indeed an "Identify" scroll. He began to run towards the inn again, scoffing slightly at the spell. "Identify"! A simple divination. Aidan was a Conjurer, and he had no training or ability to cast divinations. He didn't consider them particularly useful anyway, thinking of them as a lower form of magic. The fact that Gorion thought highly of divinations didn't faze him.
He reached the inn and was greeted by the hearty laughter of Winthrop. The innkeep probably thought he looked ridiculous in his soaked robes, Aidan thought unhappily. He made his purchase of the bolts quickly, and retreated to huddle in the warmth of the fireplace for a moment. Firebead was there too, and the mage seemed pleased to receive his scroll from Aidan.
"Ah, I am glad to see that age has not hardened your heart towards an old man such as myself. I'll take all of your identify scrolls - I have a great use for those types of scrolls. Here, allow me to cast a little spell on you. It will protect you from any evil you might meet tonight."
Firebead muttered a quick incantation and Aidan felt the magical energies surrounding himself. Some kind of simple protection, no doubt he thought. The old mage also handed him another healing potion, which was a more welcome gift for Aidan. He added the small vial to the small bag on his belt where he stored all manner of fragile spell components and valuables. He glanced outside, where the rainfall had increased in volume. With a regretful sigh, he plunged outside in to the storm, escorted by Winthrop's hearty chuckle.
Fuller's mood had worsened by the waiting, and he grunted and tossed a few coins for Aidan's trouble as the young mage returned the bolts to his friend. Aidan was heading towards the training hall to receive Obe's training when he heard a silent whistle from his side.
He turned his head at the noise and saw that the bunkhouse's door was slightly ajar. Somebody obviously wished to speak to him he thought and stepped inside the small cottage. It was dark inside, but Aidan spotted a figure of a man some step away from him, standing silently. He opened his mouth to question the man, but the other beat him to it.
"'Ere there. You're Gorion's little whelp, aren't ya? Yeah, you match the description. You don't look so dangerous to me."
Whelp! Aidan was annoyed and felt his cheeks redden. What was this stranger being so insulting for?
"And what business is that of yours?" He snapped back angrily, but felt icy dread in his bowels as he saw the glint of a blade in the other man's hand.
"I'll make it my business if'n I please. Just thought I'd have me a look at you for myself, before I puts a blade down your gullet! Someone seems to think you're 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!"
The man lumbered forward and stabbed viciously with his dagger.
In a panicked move, Aidan managed to dodge the man's thrust, but all of his training slipped from him at that moment. He couldn't remember the words to his spells, not a single one! He swung his staff at the man, trying to keep him at distance but the attacker easily dodged the wild blow and this time managed to nick Aidan's hand with his tiny blade.
Focusing somewhat, Aidan saw the man a little more clearly. He seemed unstable, perhaps even drunk. Aidan swung his staff again, and this time hit the man with a glancing blow. His attacker grimaced in pain, and made several quick counter attacks.
Aidan concentrated on dodging the attacks rather than fighting back, but as the man struck him again he realized that yelling for help (which he had been doing the whole time) might not save him in time.
The new hit was a little deeper, a gash in Aidan's side but even though it stung he realized it was not terribly dangerous. And his attacker had lost his balance after his deep thrust. As the other man stumbled and attempted to correct himself, Aidan took a careful aim and swung a mighty blow. He missed his target which had been his assailant's hand.
Instead, his staff connected with the other man's neck which snapped like a dry twig. Aidan fell to his knees in shock, holding his injured side as the lifeless eyes of his enemy watched him accusingly from the floor.
The young wizard stumbled outside and saw a couple watchers and the old monk, Karan, running towards him.
"I heard shouting, Aidan! Are you alright?"
Aidan felt his voice tremble as he gasped an answer to his old teacher. " He's... He's dead, whoever he was. He lunged at me with a knife. Oh Karan, what is happening to this place?"
The old monk's face was full of sorrow as he gazed upon Aidan's bloody robes. "It's not this place, child... It's you they're after. Gorion is waiting on the steps to the central library and wants you to go to him as soon as you have bought what you need at the Inn. Oh, Aidan, I have been your tutor for so many years and only in this moment have I come to doubt that my teachings have not been enough. Go to Gorion, child. It is safe for you here no longer..."
Karan instructed the watchers to discreetly gather the body and not harry Aidan. He then took the young mage to the healer's house where the priest administered his wounds. After saying his farewell's to Karan Aidan decided to seek out Obe.
"Combat training?" he thought. "Bring it on!" The coming journey seemed more dangerous by the moment.
Obe the Illusionist and five other combat trainees besides Aidan had practiced their combat skills in the basement. The young wizard was feeling a little more sure of himself as he walked towards the inner grounds where he knew Gorion was waiting for him. Next time he would be attacked he wouldn't let terror get a grip! He had two potent spells, "Sleep" and "Armor" memorized at the moment and each would be very useful when fighting against most enemies. He might have escaped without injury if he had been able to cast his "Armor" spell in his first battle.
"Hiya!"
Aidan jumped at the sound and quickly turned to face it's origin.
"It's me, Imoen." Said the young woman facing him, bemused expression on her face.
Aidan felt a little shamed when he realized that he was holding his best friend at weapon point. He quickly lowered his staff and greeted her back. As quick of wit as she was, Imoen was also more than a little happy-go- lucky and thus resumed her earlier perky tone like the awkward moment hadn't even occurred.
"I'm surprised that stuffy ol' Gorion let you away from your studies and chores. That ol' fiddle faddle. I snuck off too. 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?"
As the girl was delivering her rapid fire explanation, Aidan watched her with a fond smile on his face. Only slightly younger than himself, Imoen had always been his best friend. She was also a ward of Gorion, but spent most of her time under Winthrop helping "Old Puffguts" run his Inn. Imoen had quick fingers and endless curiosity, and had often gotten into trouble by snurching valuables from the visitors. This always angered Winthrop at first, but he couldn't stay angry at Imoen. No one could, for the girl had the prettiest smile Aidan had ever seen and could be charming as a snake when she wanted.
"I'm afraid I cannot chat today, little one. My foster father wishes me to prepare for a journey, but will not say to where." He answered her.
Imoen's cheery smiled changed into a mock pout.
"Little one?" she asked feistily. "I'm not much younger than you, though you sure got tall fast. Relatively, anyway. A journey, eh? I never get to travel. Wish I could go with ya. Yep, I really wish I could. Yessir. Really do."
She looked at Aidan with such hope that he couldn't help but to laugh out loud. He was the single person he knew who could resist her wiles.
"There is no way you can come. Gorion would never allow it." he said to his friend shaking his head at her display of mock anger and resigned disappointment.
"Oh I know. Old stick-in-the-mud that he his, all worried about nothing, I'm sure." She continued with her hyper style.
"Better go now, 'cause you've got a long ways to travel... not... not that I would know, especially since I didn't peek at old Mr. G's private letters." Her hand went to her mouth as she realized what she had said.
"No sir. Better go now, bye bye!" Imoen kissed Aidan to his cheek and ran off.
Aidan couldn't but marvel at the girl's limitless energy and enthusiasm. She would be the person he'd miss most. Perhaps he might persuade Gorion to take her with them. But no, the old man would never allow it, seeing as they were in danger as it was. Remembering his earlier brush with death, Aidan's good mood was gone and he continued onward to the inner grounds where Gorion was most likely anxiously waiting. At least the rain was easing, he thought.
His foster father was waiting for him at the steps of the library. Gorion was a handsome man even in his old age, and none could deny the power that radiated from his old frame. But while he was a powerful wizard and a wise sage, Gorion's kind eyes and pleasant smile displayed his kind nature. He had been a good parent to both Aidan and Imoen. He had raised them with love and what child vould ask for a better storyteller than a sage of Gorion's stature. The stories he had told them were a legion and Aidan had grown up yearning to be an adventuring wizard some day, just as Gorion had once been. One story he had never told, however, was that of Aidan's true parents. He had some information about his mother, who had known Gorion while she was still alive. She had hailed from Silverymoon and died of childbirth. Aidan had planned to visit the city someday to learn of his heritage.
As he drew nearer, Aidan could see the worry lines on his foster father's face. He greeted Gorion and asked about the reason of their departure.
"This is very unnerving, I know, but you must trust me." Came the reply.
"It is very important that you pack your possessions so that we may leave Candlekeep immediately. Hurry, for there is no time to tarry! The keep is well protected, but not invulnerable."
Aidan was puzzled, as Gorion didn't mention the attempt on his life. Hadn't Karan told him about it?
"Please father, tell me where we will be going." He asked.
Gorion's brow furrowed in thought. "Alas, I cannot, for I have not truly decided yet. All that is certain is that we will be far safer on the move. Perhaps the woods might offer some secluded security, or perhaps the city of Baldur's Gate would offer cover amidst its teaming throngs of people. I do not know where we shall end up, but I have a few friends here and there. Hmm...I will think on this."
Having already readied himself, Aidan was more than willing to depart the keep.
"I'm ready to go right now." He told his foster father with a brave smile.
Gorion already had their equipment stocked in his backpack and they were ready to go. The raining had ceased and birds were singing. As they left the inner grounds, Aidan had the funny feeling that he'd never see the place again. He turned for a quick glance at the library, but the view to the inner grounds had already disappeared as they passed the archway into the gates. The young wizard sighed in resignation and followed his foster parent out of his childhood home.
They had walked for hours and the darkness was already starting to fall. Gorion was chatting to Aidan while they pressed onwards toward the Friendly Arms Inn where Gorion had told him friends would be waiting. "Let's hurry child! The night can only get worse so we must find shelter soon. Don't worry, I will explain everything as soon as there is time." The rain was starting again, and Aidan was feeling none too great. His feet, unused to the exercise, were sore and his mood was wearing down. He missed his bed, his cozy room, the warmth of a good fireplace and the mug of mulled wine that Winthrop knew how to do so well.
Suddenly, he felt Gorion's hand on his chest and saw his foster father stop dead on his tracks. Too late, he heard the inhumanly heavy footfalls and jingle of heavy armor in front. Several dark figures, a few of them over three meters tall loomed in front of them!
"Wait! There is something wrong. We are in an ambush. Prepare yourself!" He had never heard this note in Gorion's voice. It sounded resigned, yet cold and lethal.
Aidan felt his knees quiver as he saw the leading figure walk slowly forward. It was a very tall, heavy set man in a black full plate armor that was hideously adorned with the symbols of death. His helmet had been built into the likeness of a skull, and Aidan could swear he saw two yellowish glowing eyes watch him from it's depths. Two monstrous ogres and a smaller figure in black full plate were also present, he realized as he saw the rest of the figures more clearly. The dark fiend leading the group walked forward and addressed Gorion in a deep and menacing voice.
"You're perceptive for an old man. 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."
Aidan felt sick to his stomach. It couldn't be! These nightmarish figures were after him! He tried to remember the words to the "Sleep" spell, but his mind was working overtime trying not to faint in terror.
Gorion, however, was showing no fear despite the grim ultimatum. "You're a fool if you believe I would trust your benevolence." he replied to the dark figure.
Aidan felt bewildered. Did Gorion know the dark fiend?
"Step aside and you and your lackeys will be unhurt." Gorion continued, his voice cold and lethal.
"I'm sorry that you feel that way old man." The dark figure remarked in his terrible voice and raised a massive two-handed sword.
At the same time the smaller figure started chanting with a soft, female voice. The ogres bellowed loud battle cries and lumbered forward raising their massive morning stars to strike. Gorion wasn't even fazed at this, and unleashed his magic to kill for the first time in Aidan's sight. A crackling bolt of lightning flew from his out stretched hands and tore a blackened hole straight through the chest of the first ogre. It fell down on it's face without a sound, already dead.
The other slowed down slightly, unsure of itself. Aidan felt pain coursing through his hand, and saw that the dark fiend's female companion had cast her spell at him. He didn't know what the effect was supposed to have been but since he was alive Aidan was certain it had failed somehow. Perhaps Firebead's protection spell had been useful, after all. The dark armored figure was advancing towards Gorion and the other ogre hesitated no longer.
"Run child, get out of here!" Gorion yelled at him, and Aidan, hurt and lightheaded from his fear and wound ran off into the uncaring night.
Gorion was sure of it now: This would be his death. He unleashed five magical missiles to the remaining ogre, killing it where it stood and ending the beast's clumsy chase of Aidan right there.
Aidan.
The child who had grown in to a man.
His child and yet not.
Gorion saw his nemesis in front of him. "My executioner." he thought grimly. With a defiant yell he unleashed yet another barrage of missiles against his dark foe. Gorion's assailant grunted in anger as the deadly magic pierced his formidable armor without effort. With practiced ease he brought down his massive blade, intending to split the old sage from head to toe.
But Gorion was no stranger to melee combat. He was an old adventurer and dodged this assault. Too close and having no applicable spells, he struck with his dagger, aiming for the face of his opponent. This move, a brazen close assault inside the striking range of his massive weapon caught the dark figure by surprise.
But it didn't make any difference nor did it hurt him. He swiveled his upper torso and caught Gorion's dagger with his shoulder armor. Striking the metal armor with a clang, the dagger was twisted from Gorion's hand. Still too close to use his huge blade, the figure instead struck with his massive armored fist.
Gorion nearly lost his consciousness as he spun around. Spitting teeth and bloody spittle to the ground, he struggled to rise. Blood flowed into his eyes as he unleashed another lightning bolt against his attacker. The magical strike hit a tree, making it burst into bright flames.
His enemy wasn't where he had been. Too late, Gorion tried to turn around. He felt terrible, burning pain as the massive blade of his enemy entered his back. No longer feeling his feet, the old sage prayed Mystra's blessing over his foster child. He heard words, the words of his enemy, but saw the face of his goddess. Gorion's long journey on Faerun had come to an end while another's was just beginning.
He smiled in spite of his pain.
Oblivion.
If I ever get round to it, I plan to write this one to the end, straight through Bg1 to Bg2 and finishing at TOB. I don't have TOTSC so Aidan and co. won't be visiting Durlag's Tower etc. Basically, this is a labor of love I use to relax myself in between my studies.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, 'cept Aidan. He's totally my creation. The rest of them, and much of their dialogue was written by the folks at Bioware/Blackisle.
Cursed Heritage 1 - The Dark Half
Chapter 1 - Childhood's End
It was going to be a busy day.
An early summer morning was dawning on the library fortress of Candlekeep, the weather was lovely and young Aidan couldn't have felt any better even if he had tried. The young apprentice wizard had lived his whole life of 20 years in the library fortress, and he yearned to travel the Realms. Aidan smelled the delicious aromas of breakfast wafting from Winthrop's Inn, where he was headed. He felt his mouth water at the thought, but heroically managed to conquer his love of pastries, remembering his foster father's stern demand that only essentials for a long trip were to be bought. Aidan wondered for a moment, what could have upset his foster father Gorion so. Aidan had spoken to him very briefly after being woken up early by the old man, and he had never seen Gorion so harried before. His foster father was a powerful wizard and Aidan couldn't even begin to guess what was wrong. Nevertheless, he pushed the door open and stepped inside the Candlekeep Inn.
Winthrop greeted him warmly and tried to pull one of his awful jests on Aidan. The young wizard grinned, remembering that Winthrop's jokes hadn't fooled him since he was six. Aidan bought some essentials from the old innkeeper, since he needed no weaponry other than his staff. The young wizard had mastered the "Armor" spell just a few days back and was feeling dangerously arrogant. Defense was hardly important, he would be travelling with his father. No brigand would be a match for Gorion! Aidan almost wished that they would encounter some bandits or hobgoblins. Just to see Gorion use his magical arts, something which the elderly sage rarely did these days.
After gathering the food and the new bedroll he had purchased, Aidan saw a familiar old figure wave at him from the corner. It was Firebead Elvenhair, an old wizard who had infrequently visited the keep since Aidan could remember. He walked to where the old man was finishing his breakfast.
"Ah yes, I'm back within the hallowed halls of Candlekeep. With this iron crisis upon us, the trip from Beregost was more hazardous than I care to relate..." The old mage remarked.
"You're Gorion's ward, aren't you?"
Aidan nodded at him.
"My, you have come into your own, if you would permit an old man jealous of youth to say so... Hmm, I left an Identify 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."
Running errands had been Aidan's chief income up until now. "Why not make some money before leaving?" Aidan thought and agreed to look into the old mage's task. He then departed the inn, inhaling at the fragrant breeze. A quick glance towards the horizon worried him somewhat, though. A storm was coming, ruining the up until now beautiful day.
"Aidan! Aidan!"
Somebody was hollering his name. Aidan glanced over his shoulder and saw yet another old wizard, Phlydia. With a gallant effort, he managed to suppress his grin which he knew would upset and confuse the older woman.
"Oh, hello! Hey, have you seen my copy of "The History of Halruaa" anywhere?"
"Of course she had managed to lose something!" Aidan thought.
"You know how I can't stand the constant shuffling of arthritic feet up in the library..." He could already guess where this was heading.
"So I thought I'd get a bit of fresh air just east of here and... Oh, I hate being so absent-minded! Please, if you find it, I really do need it back."
Aidan agreed to try and find her book. He liked Phlydia, in a surrogate aunt kind of way. He hadn't known his real mother, or father. Gorion hadn't married so there hadn't been any real maternal figures in Aidan's life. He shook his head ruefully, suddenly a little less pleased about the coming "adventure". He would miss that dear old lady!
Trying to gather a little spring in his step after these darker thoughts, he spied his old friend Dreppin in the distance. Dreppin worked at the stables, taking care of both the cows and the horses ridden by the visitors to the keep. His friend was a few years Aidan's senior, but while Dreppin had grown strong and hardy from all the work, there was no question about who was the brains in their team. Aidan had been a natural student of the arcane under Gorion. He had learned everything easily and without a hitch, even though their disciplines were different.
Gorion was a Mage, a generalist wizard while Aidan had chosen to be a Conjurer. Summoning creatures and objects to aid him had always fascinated him, and despite Gorion's warnings of the danger of such endeavors, he had managed to learn the necessary skills. Even while gathering lavish praise from Tethtoril and Phlydia, Aidan remembered Gorion having always seemed a little. sad? Aidan couldn't fathom the reason. But he had learned the Art and great powers would be his to command in the future.
"Phlydia left one of her books in here again." Dreppin's cheerful voice jolted him away from his lofty dreams of power.
"It's in the hay, there, beside the cow. If you could run it over to her and then come back, I've got some plans for you."
Dreppin had plans for him? Aidan looked at the lazy, round face of his friend and instantly knew Dreppin's plan. One final errand for his lazy friend, Aidan thought and fished out Phlydia's book from the haystack. How on Faerun had she managed to lose it in there, Aidan couldn't fathom. He brushed the errant straws from the book and started back towards Phlydia.
"My book!" Predictably, she was overjoyed.
"Oh, you remind me of Gorion when you grin like that." She chided Aidan.
"Raising you has been hard on him, I know, but he says it's a toil of love, a toil of destiny, even. You must be a very special child, indeed, to draw such praise from a man of his silent nature... Here, take this little gem of mine. Maybe Winthrop will give you a little something for it."
She handed Aidan a small gray gemstone and left for the inner grounds of the keep. Aidan had studied some gemology under Gorion's tutelage and he recognized Phlydia's stone as a Lynx Eye. Not particularly valuable, but a nice little prize nonetheless. He stuffed it into one the pouches hanging from his gray and tan robes. He started off towards the stalls again. Too bad Dreppin couldn't come with them he mused as he heard a distant crack of thunder. Perhaps the day wouldn't be as beautiful as he had thought at first after all.
"Nice day, ain't it?"
Aidan gazed worriedly towards the darkening sky to which Dreppin seemed oblivious.
"Too bad Nessa, here," Dreppin pointed to one of the cows "ain't enjoyin' it, though, her bein' sick 'n' all. I need to get her one of them potions of antidote off Hull. He stayed up drinkin' last night and got hauled outa bed to man the gates early this morning so I bet he's got a few of them lyin' around somewheres."
So that was Hull's secret! His fortitude in the face of morning hangovers was legendary in the keep. Hull often quaffed large amounts of liquor in the evenings and yet managed to show up to work by the next morning. Aidan wasn't a huge fan of hard drink himself, but made a mental note to remember the trick just in case. He nodded affirmatively to Dreppin and began walking towards the gates where Hull would surely be found.
Near the warehouse where he usually helped the dwarf Reevor in his tasks Aidan saw Jondalar beckoning towards him. Jondalar was a younger watcher, and was enjoying a rare day off. He wasn't wearing the customary heavy armor of watchers but did carry the quarter staff, similar to Aidan's own.
Aidan greeted the young watcher as he drew closer.
"Hey there Aidan! I see you're up early this day. Well your father, Gorion, has asked me a strange favor. Seems like he wants you to learn some fighting and asked me to be the teacher. So I hope you brought your staff with you."
Aidan had received some very rudimentary self defense lessons on how to use his staff, but this was certainly new. Was this trip going to be dangerous? This was certainly going to be a short, mock combat and Aidan welcomed the opportunity.
They both took up fighting stances, Jondalar practiced and confident, Aidan clumsily and nervous. Jondalar let Aidan take the first swing. He aimed, swung with greater force than was truly safe and missed by a mile. Jondalar chuckled and lightly tapped Aidan on his shoulder with his staff. At the same time, Aidan felt a slightly more painful strike in his back. He made a quick glance over his shoulder and saw Erik, a friend of Jondalar's wielding a child's toy bow and padded toy arrows against him.
Feeling his cheeks redden with embarrassment at being the center of such a display he felt another hit from Jondalar as the other man took advantage at his sudden predicament. This went on for a few minutes until Aidan managed to land a clean hit to Jondalar's ribs. Surprisingly, he got congratulated by both of the watchers.
"You did good kid, especially after Erik started firing those arrows at ya." Jondalar praised him.
"I'm sure your father would be proud. You should go talk to the Gatewarden if you want some experience in fighting with a group of people. You can find him just south of here. Out there it can be pretty important to know how to fight with allies at your side."
True words, Aidan thought, and decided to heed them closely.
Unfortunately he didn't get very far, for Aidan was pounced on by a small, smelly dwarf. Reevor was in charge of taking care of the warehouses in the keep, and took his role very seriously. He had often bullied Aidan and Dreppin into doing his dirty work on the pretense that he was their "superior officer"! Aidan winced when he saw Reevor scowling at him and bellowing at his heavily accented common.
"I thought I asked you to clean the rats out of this building yesterday, already. Hop to it! Get in there!"
Asked? Reevor didn't know the meaning of that word, Aidan thought, but resignedly entered the small warehouse regardless. What followed was an epic hacking match which ended in Aidan's victory. The rats were completely routed, leaving four of their number behind as casualties.
Aidan flicked a glance warily at the door, and hastily rummaged through the crates. He guessed that Reevor wouldn't reward him and thus snurched a small silver ring in to the same pouch as the gem he had gotten from Phlydia. He then returned outside and presented Reevor his four "kills".
"Ah yes, kill them like the rats that they are! A glorious battle unlike any this world has ever seen... Here's 5 gp, don't spend it all in one place."
Aidan was flabbergasted, Reevor actually giving money away! Who would have guessed. Smiling to himself, Aidan continued on towards the gates.
The young mage spotted Hull standing at his post near the gate. He waved at the guard in a friendly manner.
"Hey kid, 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 on the right side of the barracks. Quick now, before the Gatewarden catches me without it."
Aidan asked him about the antidote.
"You'll also find that there, hurry now!"
Perhaps his drinking had affected Hull's memory after all, Aidan mused as he continued on towards the southern end of the fortress and the barracks. He stopped by the healer's house and got a potion of healing from the Oghman priest there. That would certainly come in handy if the future held any danger.
As if summoned by thought, the Gatewarden caught up with Aidan. He was the captain of the watchers, a stern but effective officer.
"Soon be gone, will ye? Aye, Gorion arsked me to teach you a whit about the finer arts o' mass combat 'afore ye leave. Can I pique yer int'rest with it, Aidan?"
Mass combat skills? Just what kind of trouble were they going to run into, Aidan thought. This was sounding more ominous by the moment. He simply nodded affirmative, and Gatewarden pointed towards the training hall.
"Good, then, child. 'Tis one thing to maintain control o' yerself in the heat of battle but 'tis quite another to maintain one's authority o'er a group. I've arsked Obe the illusionist to run through a few simulations fer ye down in the storage cellars. Just follow me this way an' I'll unlock the door fer ye..."
Gatewarden led Aidan to the doors of the cellar that served as the combat training hall for the watchers and unlocked it's door. He then left and Aidan decided to finish his other tasks first. The training could wait, he wouldn't be in any danger until they were outside the keep.
Aidan opened the barracks doors and brazenly waltzed in. Military protocol never had been very important for him. He saw Fuller, another watcher and a good friend of Hull's sitting in a stool looking very much hung over. Aidan liked the older veteran, Fuller was primarily responsible for the more "worldly" things that Aidan knew.
"Ugh, what a mead-filled night. 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?"
Aidan told him he was out fetching Hull's sword. Fuller smiled brokenly and pointed out his friends' chest. Aidan opened it and grabbed the long sword and a vial of green poison antidote he found inside. After promising Fuller that he'd fetch a quarrel of crossbow bolts from the Inn Aidan headed back outside. Instead of being grateful, Hull gave Aidan one of his best scowls and scolded him out.
"Took your sweet time, didn't you? Gorion's a fool for trying to bring you up right and you can tell him I said so, too. If I didn't know any better, I'd say this whole iron crisis is the result of twerps like you wandering off with people's swords. Here's 10 gp. Now get out of here, I'm on duty."
Aidan grabbed the coins and merely smiled at the old watchers migraine induced wrath. His smile faltered however, when he heard the clap of thunder near and felt the first drops of rain fall on his arm.
He ran the rest of the way to the cow pens. Trying to avoid the rain was most likely futile, but Aidan decided to try it anyway. Dreppin didn't mind being wet, receiving the antidote was more than enough for Aidan's simple friend.
"Heh, yer a wonder, you are. Stick with me and we'll go far... Well, okay, stick with me and we'd prob'ly never leave the walls of Candlekeep, would we..."
Dreppin had always dreamed of being a mighty warrior and a hero like Drizzt the Drow or Wulfgar the Barbarian.
"Hmm, good thing you ain't wearin' none of that metal armor, though, as I hear that the bandits out there would just as soon kill you as look at you to get it off your back. I just hope this whole iron crisis business is wrapped up soon."
Again with the "iron crisis". Aidan wondered what that business was all about. All he had heard were the scattered rumors spread by the visiting merchants. Iron was supposedly becoming scarce through the Sword Coast. Aidan started to run off towards the inn to seek shelter and buy the bolts when he was intercepted by yet another old friend.
This time it was Tethtoril, one of Gorion's best friends in the keep. Aidan too loved the old priest like a grandfather he had never had. Tethtoril caught up with him, and wheezed for breath.
"Firebead has sent you to me, hasn't he..." The old priest gasped.
The scroll! Aidan had forgotten about Firebead's task completely!
"Very well, return this scroll to him but then you must hurry and speak with Gorion. He is waiting for you on the steps of the central library. I assure you, child, it is a matter of greatest urgency."
The old man took off, his red robes fluttering about him as he ran towards the inner grounds, probably to seek shelter from the rain inside the library. Aidan glanced at the scroll and saw that it was indeed an "Identify" scroll. He began to run towards the inn again, scoffing slightly at the spell. "Identify"! A simple divination. Aidan was a Conjurer, and he had no training or ability to cast divinations. He didn't consider them particularly useful anyway, thinking of them as a lower form of magic. The fact that Gorion thought highly of divinations didn't faze him.
He reached the inn and was greeted by the hearty laughter of Winthrop. The innkeep probably thought he looked ridiculous in his soaked robes, Aidan thought unhappily. He made his purchase of the bolts quickly, and retreated to huddle in the warmth of the fireplace for a moment. Firebead was there too, and the mage seemed pleased to receive his scroll from Aidan.
"Ah, I am glad to see that age has not hardened your heart towards an old man such as myself. I'll take all of your identify scrolls - I have a great use for those types of scrolls. Here, allow me to cast a little spell on you. It will protect you from any evil you might meet tonight."
Firebead muttered a quick incantation and Aidan felt the magical energies surrounding himself. Some kind of simple protection, no doubt he thought. The old mage also handed him another healing potion, which was a more welcome gift for Aidan. He added the small vial to the small bag on his belt where he stored all manner of fragile spell components and valuables. He glanced outside, where the rainfall had increased in volume. With a regretful sigh, he plunged outside in to the storm, escorted by Winthrop's hearty chuckle.
Fuller's mood had worsened by the waiting, and he grunted and tossed a few coins for Aidan's trouble as the young mage returned the bolts to his friend. Aidan was heading towards the training hall to receive Obe's training when he heard a silent whistle from his side.
He turned his head at the noise and saw that the bunkhouse's door was slightly ajar. Somebody obviously wished to speak to him he thought and stepped inside the small cottage. It was dark inside, but Aidan spotted a figure of a man some step away from him, standing silently. He opened his mouth to question the man, but the other beat him to it.
"'Ere there. You're Gorion's little whelp, aren't ya? Yeah, you match the description. You don't look so dangerous to me."
Whelp! Aidan was annoyed and felt his cheeks redden. What was this stranger being so insulting for?
"And what business is that of yours?" He snapped back angrily, but felt icy dread in his bowels as he saw the glint of a blade in the other man's hand.
"I'll make it my business if'n I please. Just thought I'd have me a look at you for myself, before I puts a blade down your gullet! Someone seems to think you're 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!"
The man lumbered forward and stabbed viciously with his dagger.
In a panicked move, Aidan managed to dodge the man's thrust, but all of his training slipped from him at that moment. He couldn't remember the words to his spells, not a single one! He swung his staff at the man, trying to keep him at distance but the attacker easily dodged the wild blow and this time managed to nick Aidan's hand with his tiny blade.
Focusing somewhat, Aidan saw the man a little more clearly. He seemed unstable, perhaps even drunk. Aidan swung his staff again, and this time hit the man with a glancing blow. His attacker grimaced in pain, and made several quick counter attacks.
Aidan concentrated on dodging the attacks rather than fighting back, but as the man struck him again he realized that yelling for help (which he had been doing the whole time) might not save him in time.
The new hit was a little deeper, a gash in Aidan's side but even though it stung he realized it was not terribly dangerous. And his attacker had lost his balance after his deep thrust. As the other man stumbled and attempted to correct himself, Aidan took a careful aim and swung a mighty blow. He missed his target which had been his assailant's hand.
Instead, his staff connected with the other man's neck which snapped like a dry twig. Aidan fell to his knees in shock, holding his injured side as the lifeless eyes of his enemy watched him accusingly from the floor.
The young wizard stumbled outside and saw a couple watchers and the old monk, Karan, running towards him.
"I heard shouting, Aidan! Are you alright?"
Aidan felt his voice tremble as he gasped an answer to his old teacher. " He's... He's dead, whoever he was. He lunged at me with a knife. Oh Karan, what is happening to this place?"
The old monk's face was full of sorrow as he gazed upon Aidan's bloody robes. "It's not this place, child... It's you they're after. Gorion is waiting on the steps to the central library and wants you to go to him as soon as you have bought what you need at the Inn. Oh, Aidan, I have been your tutor for so many years and only in this moment have I come to doubt that my teachings have not been enough. Go to Gorion, child. It is safe for you here no longer..."
Karan instructed the watchers to discreetly gather the body and not harry Aidan. He then took the young mage to the healer's house where the priest administered his wounds. After saying his farewell's to Karan Aidan decided to seek out Obe.
"Combat training?" he thought. "Bring it on!" The coming journey seemed more dangerous by the moment.
Obe the Illusionist and five other combat trainees besides Aidan had practiced their combat skills in the basement. The young wizard was feeling a little more sure of himself as he walked towards the inner grounds where he knew Gorion was waiting for him. Next time he would be attacked he wouldn't let terror get a grip! He had two potent spells, "Sleep" and "Armor" memorized at the moment and each would be very useful when fighting against most enemies. He might have escaped without injury if he had been able to cast his "Armor" spell in his first battle.
"Hiya!"
Aidan jumped at the sound and quickly turned to face it's origin.
"It's me, Imoen." Said the young woman facing him, bemused expression on her face.
Aidan felt a little shamed when he realized that he was holding his best friend at weapon point. He quickly lowered his staff and greeted her back. As quick of wit as she was, Imoen was also more than a little happy-go- lucky and thus resumed her earlier perky tone like the awkward moment hadn't even occurred.
"I'm surprised that stuffy ol' Gorion let you away from your studies and chores. That ol' fiddle faddle. I snuck off too. 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?"
As the girl was delivering her rapid fire explanation, Aidan watched her with a fond smile on his face. Only slightly younger than himself, Imoen had always been his best friend. She was also a ward of Gorion, but spent most of her time under Winthrop helping "Old Puffguts" run his Inn. Imoen had quick fingers and endless curiosity, and had often gotten into trouble by snurching valuables from the visitors. This always angered Winthrop at first, but he couldn't stay angry at Imoen. No one could, for the girl had the prettiest smile Aidan had ever seen and could be charming as a snake when she wanted.
"I'm afraid I cannot chat today, little one. My foster father wishes me to prepare for a journey, but will not say to where." He answered her.
Imoen's cheery smiled changed into a mock pout.
"Little one?" she asked feistily. "I'm not much younger than you, though you sure got tall fast. Relatively, anyway. A journey, eh? I never get to travel. Wish I could go with ya. Yep, I really wish I could. Yessir. Really do."
She looked at Aidan with such hope that he couldn't help but to laugh out loud. He was the single person he knew who could resist her wiles.
"There is no way you can come. Gorion would never allow it." he said to his friend shaking his head at her display of mock anger and resigned disappointment.
"Oh I know. Old stick-in-the-mud that he his, all worried about nothing, I'm sure." She continued with her hyper style.
"Better go now, 'cause you've got a long ways to travel... not... not that I would know, especially since I didn't peek at old Mr. G's private letters." Her hand went to her mouth as she realized what she had said.
"No sir. Better go now, bye bye!" Imoen kissed Aidan to his cheek and ran off.
Aidan couldn't but marvel at the girl's limitless energy and enthusiasm. She would be the person he'd miss most. Perhaps he might persuade Gorion to take her with them. But no, the old man would never allow it, seeing as they were in danger as it was. Remembering his earlier brush with death, Aidan's good mood was gone and he continued onward to the inner grounds where Gorion was most likely anxiously waiting. At least the rain was easing, he thought.
His foster father was waiting for him at the steps of the library. Gorion was a handsome man even in his old age, and none could deny the power that radiated from his old frame. But while he was a powerful wizard and a wise sage, Gorion's kind eyes and pleasant smile displayed his kind nature. He had been a good parent to both Aidan and Imoen. He had raised them with love and what child vould ask for a better storyteller than a sage of Gorion's stature. The stories he had told them were a legion and Aidan had grown up yearning to be an adventuring wizard some day, just as Gorion had once been. One story he had never told, however, was that of Aidan's true parents. He had some information about his mother, who had known Gorion while she was still alive. She had hailed from Silverymoon and died of childbirth. Aidan had planned to visit the city someday to learn of his heritage.
As he drew nearer, Aidan could see the worry lines on his foster father's face. He greeted Gorion and asked about the reason of their departure.
"This is very unnerving, I know, but you must trust me." Came the reply.
"It is very important that you pack your possessions so that we may leave Candlekeep immediately. Hurry, for there is no time to tarry! The keep is well protected, but not invulnerable."
Aidan was puzzled, as Gorion didn't mention the attempt on his life. Hadn't Karan told him about it?
"Please father, tell me where we will be going." He asked.
Gorion's brow furrowed in thought. "Alas, I cannot, for I have not truly decided yet. All that is certain is that we will be far safer on the move. Perhaps the woods might offer some secluded security, or perhaps the city of Baldur's Gate would offer cover amidst its teaming throngs of people. I do not know where we shall end up, but I have a few friends here and there. Hmm...I will think on this."
Having already readied himself, Aidan was more than willing to depart the keep.
"I'm ready to go right now." He told his foster father with a brave smile.
Gorion already had their equipment stocked in his backpack and they were ready to go. The raining had ceased and birds were singing. As they left the inner grounds, Aidan had the funny feeling that he'd never see the place again. He turned for a quick glance at the library, but the view to the inner grounds had already disappeared as they passed the archway into the gates. The young wizard sighed in resignation and followed his foster parent out of his childhood home.
They had walked for hours and the darkness was already starting to fall. Gorion was chatting to Aidan while they pressed onwards toward the Friendly Arms Inn where Gorion had told him friends would be waiting. "Let's hurry child! The night can only get worse so we must find shelter soon. Don't worry, I will explain everything as soon as there is time." The rain was starting again, and Aidan was feeling none too great. His feet, unused to the exercise, were sore and his mood was wearing down. He missed his bed, his cozy room, the warmth of a good fireplace and the mug of mulled wine that Winthrop knew how to do so well.
Suddenly, he felt Gorion's hand on his chest and saw his foster father stop dead on his tracks. Too late, he heard the inhumanly heavy footfalls and jingle of heavy armor in front. Several dark figures, a few of them over three meters tall loomed in front of them!
"Wait! There is something wrong. We are in an ambush. Prepare yourself!" He had never heard this note in Gorion's voice. It sounded resigned, yet cold and lethal.
Aidan felt his knees quiver as he saw the leading figure walk slowly forward. It was a very tall, heavy set man in a black full plate armor that was hideously adorned with the symbols of death. His helmet had been built into the likeness of a skull, and Aidan could swear he saw two yellowish glowing eyes watch him from it's depths. Two monstrous ogres and a smaller figure in black full plate were also present, he realized as he saw the rest of the figures more clearly. The dark fiend leading the group walked forward and addressed Gorion in a deep and menacing voice.
"You're perceptive for an old man. 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."
Aidan felt sick to his stomach. It couldn't be! These nightmarish figures were after him! He tried to remember the words to the "Sleep" spell, but his mind was working overtime trying not to faint in terror.
Gorion, however, was showing no fear despite the grim ultimatum. "You're a fool if you believe I would trust your benevolence." he replied to the dark figure.
Aidan felt bewildered. Did Gorion know the dark fiend?
"Step aside and you and your lackeys will be unhurt." Gorion continued, his voice cold and lethal.
"I'm sorry that you feel that way old man." The dark figure remarked in his terrible voice and raised a massive two-handed sword.
At the same time the smaller figure started chanting with a soft, female voice. The ogres bellowed loud battle cries and lumbered forward raising their massive morning stars to strike. Gorion wasn't even fazed at this, and unleashed his magic to kill for the first time in Aidan's sight. A crackling bolt of lightning flew from his out stretched hands and tore a blackened hole straight through the chest of the first ogre. It fell down on it's face without a sound, already dead.
The other slowed down slightly, unsure of itself. Aidan felt pain coursing through his hand, and saw that the dark fiend's female companion had cast her spell at him. He didn't know what the effect was supposed to have been but since he was alive Aidan was certain it had failed somehow. Perhaps Firebead's protection spell had been useful, after all. The dark armored figure was advancing towards Gorion and the other ogre hesitated no longer.
"Run child, get out of here!" Gorion yelled at him, and Aidan, hurt and lightheaded from his fear and wound ran off into the uncaring night.
Gorion was sure of it now: This would be his death. He unleashed five magical missiles to the remaining ogre, killing it where it stood and ending the beast's clumsy chase of Aidan right there.
Aidan.
The child who had grown in to a man.
His child and yet not.
Gorion saw his nemesis in front of him. "My executioner." he thought grimly. With a defiant yell he unleashed yet another barrage of missiles against his dark foe. Gorion's assailant grunted in anger as the deadly magic pierced his formidable armor without effort. With practiced ease he brought down his massive blade, intending to split the old sage from head to toe.
But Gorion was no stranger to melee combat. He was an old adventurer and dodged this assault. Too close and having no applicable spells, he struck with his dagger, aiming for the face of his opponent. This move, a brazen close assault inside the striking range of his massive weapon caught the dark figure by surprise.
But it didn't make any difference nor did it hurt him. He swiveled his upper torso and caught Gorion's dagger with his shoulder armor. Striking the metal armor with a clang, the dagger was twisted from Gorion's hand. Still too close to use his huge blade, the figure instead struck with his massive armored fist.
Gorion nearly lost his consciousness as he spun around. Spitting teeth and bloody spittle to the ground, he struggled to rise. Blood flowed into his eyes as he unleashed another lightning bolt against his attacker. The magical strike hit a tree, making it burst into bright flames.
His enemy wasn't where he had been. Too late, Gorion tried to turn around. He felt terrible, burning pain as the massive blade of his enemy entered his back. No longer feeling his feet, the old sage prayed Mystra's blessing over his foster child. He heard words, the words of his enemy, but saw the face of his goddess. Gorion's long journey on Faerun had come to an end while another's was just beginning.
He smiled in spite of his pain.
Oblivion.