BG1/2: Chaos In Amn
By Dragonsey
Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 and it's characters are the property of Rumiko
Takahashi, Viz Communications, and Shogakukan. Baldur's Gate and it's
characters are the property of Bioware, Black Isle Studios, Interplay,
and Wizards of the Coast. No copyright infringement is intended.
Prologue
"...Chaos shall be sown in their footsteps..."
so sayeth the wise Alaundo
--------------------------------------------------------------------
They came in the night, dozens of elite assassins intent upon securing
their prize. As her father hurried her down the halls of the family
keep, she heard the sounds of combat in the distance. Surprised or
not, the guards were putting up a stiff resistance. However, she was
well aware that it would not be enough.
"Just a little further." As she looked at her father, she once again
bitterly regretted her actions. At first it had seemed so harmless, a
bit of youthful rebellion against her father's authority. Never had
she imagined that it would escalate to this!
Now, this night, she was seeing her father with new eyes. She had
been awoken by an assassin entering her very room, only to watch in
awe as her father appeared, blade in hand, and dispatched the
intruder. Quickly, he had gathered her up and bade her to follow.
There had been no time to get dressed, no time to gather any
belongings. The sight of her oh-so-proper father walking through the
keep in his night clothes might have been humorous once, but not this
night. If nothing else, the blood-stained blade in his hand dispelled
any thought of mirth.
As the sound of combat drew closer, she wondered if they would die
this night. Weeks ago, when she had discovered what was truly going
on, she had told her father everything, confessing every foolish deed.
She had expected her father to cast her out, eliminating both the blot
on his honor those actions had caused, and also eliminating the danger
her continued presence brought to the keep. Instead, much to her
surprise, he had forgiven her without reservation, and instead of
casting her out, had reinforced the guard at the keep, putting them on
a state of high alert. Those precautions were the only reason they
were still alive, but they were being sorely tested this night.
"Here we are."
She was pulled from her thoughts as they arrived at her father's
study. A small frown creased her face. Even she knew that this was
not the most defensible place in the keep. Why had they come here?
"Father, why-?" Her question was cut off as three figures seemed to
detach themselves from the shadows. Her father immediately pushed her
behind him and assumed a defensive stance.
"It's no use, old man," one of the assassins said, "Let us have the girl
and we'll let you live."
Her father gave no reply. None was needed. All in the room knew the
truth; even if she was turned over to them immediately, they would
still kill all in the keep to preserve their secret.
As one of the figures moved closer, her father was suddenly a blur of
motion. Almost faster than the eye could follow, the razor-sharp
blade in his hands flashed out, slashing through the throat of the
nearest assassin, nearly beheading him. Cursing, the two remaining
assassins closed with the skill of long practice. They had not
expected him to be so skilled and one of their number had paid for
their overconfidence, but they were professionals and wouldn't make
that mistake again.
As she watched the flashing blades, she was struck by how quiet the
fight was. The bards had always sang of the clash of arms and the
roar of battle. This fight was so silent it would probably go
unnoticed by someone in the next room.
"Aaah!" Another of the assassins was down, but in taking him out, her
father had received a shallow cut in the side from the remaining one.
Now, as he turned his full attention to the one who had wounded him,
she saw that something was wrong. Given the skill he had shown
fighting two at once, he should have had no problem dealing with the
last one, despite his wound, but instead he seemed to be having
trouble holding his own.
"Give it up old man, you're already dead." taunted the last assassin.
Poison! Her eyes flashed back to her father's wound, but his clothes
were in the way. Still, it was obvious, his movements were far more
sluggish than that one minor wound could account for. With a surge of
grief and hopelessness she threw herself at the assassin.
Her action shocked the assassin who automatically moved to strike her
with his blade. At the last moment he hesitated, as his conscious
mind overrode his instincts. He was under orders to bring her back
alive. That hesitation was all her father needed. With a final
mighty thrust, he slid his blade into the assassin's heart.
He then collapsed to the floor beside the body of his foe.
Moving quickly to her father's side, she reached for his bloodstained
night shirt, carefully folding it back to expose the wound. What she
saw made her breath catch with fear. Already the wound had an
unhealthy gray-black tinge, and angry lines of red were rapidly
spreading from its center.
"No, Daughter," he said, grimacing in pain, "that can wait."
When she opened her mouth to argue, her silenced her with his gaze.
"It can wait. The wound itself is not serious, and neither of us can
do anything about the poison. Our first priority is to get you out of
here." Again stopping her incipient protest with his gaze, he
continued. "Look in the bottom drawer of my desk and you will find a
small wooden box. Bring that box to me."
"I'm not leaving you, Father!" she cried.
"Daughter, for once do as I say!" -cough-
Chastised, remembering what her disobedience had caused, she hurried
over to his desk. Returning with the box, she saw her father had
retrieved his sword. The effort must have been immense, for he lay
there, gasping for breath. Kneeling beside him, she gathered his head
into her lap and tried to comfort him.
"Here is the box, Father."
"Good." He closed his eyes and gathered his remaining strength. The
poison was working fast, already he could feel the numbness in his
limbs, sense the coldness of approaching death. Looking up at his
only child, he was struck again by her resemblance to her long dead
mother. Perhaps that was why he had had such problems raising her.
Too afraid of spoiling her, he had erred on the other extreme. Her
rebellion against his rules was probably to be expected, Gods knew
other children had done similar things. And, despite what she
thought, the disaster currently befalling them wasn't her fault. In
her youthful rebellion she had done nothing that had not been done many
times before. Nothing that should have come to this. It wasn't her
fault that others had taken advantage of her naivete and her actions
and drew her unwittingly into a plot far deadlier that she had ever
dreamed.
"Open the box. Inside is a small bag of gems and an amulet. I had
feared that we might be forced to flee, even if I hadn't expected it
to happen so soon." -cough- "I commissioned the amulet from
Alioreth."
She gave a small gasp. Alioreth was the most powerful wizard in the
area, and his prices reflected that.
"It is already set. In the box is also a scroll with the command
words for it. The first word will take us to a destination far, far
away from here. You just need to put the amulet on, hold my hand, and
say the word. Quickly now, we must get out of here before more find
us!"
Without hesitation, she did what he commanded. As soon as the word
left her mouth they were engulfed in darkness. For an endless moment
everything seemed to vanish, save each other. Together they seemed to
be falling through a cold gray mist.
And then it was over. Surrounding them was a forest glade, with no
sign of anyone in sight.
"It worked." He relaxed on seeing his new surroundings. Now his
daughter had a chance at life.
"Daughter, listen carefully." Waiting until he was sure he had her
full attention, he continued.
"The second command word will send you, and anyone in physical contact
with you, back to the keep. Think carefully before returning! The
amulet will only work for one round trip, and you know that those
pursuing you will have the keep kept under observation until they
locate you!" Seeing her nod he went on.
"According to the wizard, we should be just west of a large city, so
head into the rising sun and you should have no problem finding
shelter." -cough- -cough-
Unable to deny the reason for his growing pallor, she felt tears
flowing down her cheeks. Doing her best to make him as comfortable as
possible, she knelt and put his head in her lap, resting it next to
the slight bulge of her stomach.
"Oh Daddy, I'm so sorry! It's all my fault!"
As the darkness settled in, he gazed for one last time at his
daughter.
"Daughter, it is NOT your fault!" With a far-away smile he continued
"...and its been so long since you've called me 'Daddy'. But now you
must be strong. Take good care of yourself... ...and take good care
of my grandchild. I love you, Nodoka."
"I love you too, Daddy!"
The morning sun was just starting to warm the air as she stepped out
of the forest and regarded the city with wondering eyes. Never had
she seen one so large! For a moment she was intimidated, but she
threw off her fears and walked boldly on.
She had buried her father the best she could. Now she had to find a
safe haven for herself and her future child. Stroking the bundle that
held her father's sword, she reached another decision. If those
pursuing ever found them, fighting skills would be essential. Her
child would need to learn how to fight. She would do all she could to
help her child avoid the destiny _they_ had planned. Whatever
sacrifice was needed, she would make it.
Whatever was necessary.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
17 years later...
Watching...
Waiting...
He sat in his chair, never stirring, almost one with the shadows.
Another candle flickered and died, increasing the shadows surrounding
him. He never noticed. The room around him was tastefully furnished,
and might have been more welcoming in better light, but the light of
the two remaining candles filled it with an ominous gloom. A gloom
that was only intensified by the third remaining source of light.
The man never wavered in his concentration on the item before him.
Fully two feet in diameter, the ball of crystal-clear glass glowed in
the dim light. Held in place on a table that resembled nothing so
much as a grasping claw, it's glow only added to the malevolent
atmosphere in the room. Deep within the globe, images flickered.
Scenes of lands far and near. Places and people both human and... not.
Events great and small. None held his interest for long.
Hour after hour, day after day, he had gazed into the crystal, seeking
the means to achieve his goal, brooding over this unexpected delay in
his plans. Months of observation and study, planning and preparation,
all for nothing! It was as if the Gods were working against him!
Mirthlessly, he smiled at the thought. Truly, there were gods who
were probably working to thwart him. That was why he had chosen those
two in particular. Because, at least for the immediate future, the
Gods themselves were limited in how much they could do to interfere
with those two. He had been watching as they grew in power, as the
confrontation between them drew to a climax, and his forces had been
ready to claim the victor. And then the two idiots had to go and ruin
everything by killing each other!
Had he been another man, he might have given up. Had he been another,
the loss of both choices might have sent him into despair. Being who
he was, he instead calmly went back to his crystal ball and began to
scry, searching for a replacement with a patience bordering on
inhuman. There were possibilities near at hand, however all except a
handful were far below those he had chosen, and that handful was under
the protection of one he did not -yet- wish to challenge.
Finally, his patience was rewarded. Far away, atop a mountain in a
dimension far removed from his own, a previously undetected spark of
power blossomed to life, attracting his attention. He focused on it,
bending his mind and skills toward measuring and analyzing it. At
first his interest was casual, many times he had investigated such
events, never yet had he found what he desired. However, this time
proved to be different. This time, the more he watched, the more he
learned, the more interested he became. The power was a type with
which he was extremely familiar, and he briefly wondered what it was
doing way over there. As he took its measure, he also wondered how it
had hidden from his searches so long.
When he was done he was, well... not happy, happiness was an emotion
he no longer even remembered feeling, but pleased. Very pleased.
This one was at least as suitable as those he had lost. As the surge
of power started to fade, he placed a mystic tag on it, lest it be
lost once again.
Over the following weeks, he set in motion all that was necessary to
achieve his goal. Hours, eventually stretching into days, were spent
homing in on the source of the power he had sensed. It proved to be
an unexpectedly difficult task. Something was interfering with his
scrying. Even with the tag he found it almost impossible to locate
the source. It was not an intentional defense formed by the one he
sought, he would have recognized that. It was almost as if the power
itself was interfering, and that was most unusual.
Others might have become frustrated or angry. He merely became more
and more pleased. Sometimes the best requires the most effort... and
he was one who never settled for second best.
Finally all was in place. At last, his goal was in reach.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Watching...
Waiting...
She stood alone on an endless plain, surrounded by formless chaos.
For years she had kept watch, staring off into the horizon at things
only she could see. With a patience no mortal could duplicate, she
maintained her vigil.
Finally, with what might have been a sigh, she relaxed her watch. Had
anyone been around, they might have heard her deeply resonant voice
say "And so it begins."
Drawing herself up, she teleported to... someplace else.
Respectfully, she reported "My Lord, the time is at hand."
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Author's Notes: Well, if you haven't guessed, there will be quite a
few spoilers for Baldur's Gate 2 in this fic. Be advised.
The beginning of this fic turned out to be rather dark, because that's
the only way I could set up this crossover. I hope to lighten the
tone as the story progresses, but its going to stay fairly close to
the BG2 storyline, so don't expect screwball comedy. Do not, however,
expect an exact retelling of BG2. The basic events will be familiar,
but I intend for Ranma's presence to significantly alter the course
of certain events.
By Dragonsey
Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 and it's characters are the property of Rumiko
Takahashi, Viz Communications, and Shogakukan. Baldur's Gate and it's
characters are the property of Bioware, Black Isle Studios, Interplay,
and Wizards of the Coast. No copyright infringement is intended.
Prologue
"...Chaos shall be sown in their footsteps..."
so sayeth the wise Alaundo
--------------------------------------------------------------------
They came in the night, dozens of elite assassins intent upon securing
their prize. As her father hurried her down the halls of the family
keep, she heard the sounds of combat in the distance. Surprised or
not, the guards were putting up a stiff resistance. However, she was
well aware that it would not be enough.
"Just a little further." As she looked at her father, she once again
bitterly regretted her actions. At first it had seemed so harmless, a
bit of youthful rebellion against her father's authority. Never had
she imagined that it would escalate to this!
Now, this night, she was seeing her father with new eyes. She had
been awoken by an assassin entering her very room, only to watch in
awe as her father appeared, blade in hand, and dispatched the
intruder. Quickly, he had gathered her up and bade her to follow.
There had been no time to get dressed, no time to gather any
belongings. The sight of her oh-so-proper father walking through the
keep in his night clothes might have been humorous once, but not this
night. If nothing else, the blood-stained blade in his hand dispelled
any thought of mirth.
As the sound of combat drew closer, she wondered if they would die
this night. Weeks ago, when she had discovered what was truly going
on, she had told her father everything, confessing every foolish deed.
She had expected her father to cast her out, eliminating both the blot
on his honor those actions had caused, and also eliminating the danger
her continued presence brought to the keep. Instead, much to her
surprise, he had forgiven her without reservation, and instead of
casting her out, had reinforced the guard at the keep, putting them on
a state of high alert. Those precautions were the only reason they
were still alive, but they were being sorely tested this night.
"Here we are."
She was pulled from her thoughts as they arrived at her father's
study. A small frown creased her face. Even she knew that this was
not the most defensible place in the keep. Why had they come here?
"Father, why-?" Her question was cut off as three figures seemed to
detach themselves from the shadows. Her father immediately pushed her
behind him and assumed a defensive stance.
"It's no use, old man," one of the assassins said, "Let us have the girl
and we'll let you live."
Her father gave no reply. None was needed. All in the room knew the
truth; even if she was turned over to them immediately, they would
still kill all in the keep to preserve their secret.
As one of the figures moved closer, her father was suddenly a blur of
motion. Almost faster than the eye could follow, the razor-sharp
blade in his hands flashed out, slashing through the throat of the
nearest assassin, nearly beheading him. Cursing, the two remaining
assassins closed with the skill of long practice. They had not
expected him to be so skilled and one of their number had paid for
their overconfidence, but they were professionals and wouldn't make
that mistake again.
As she watched the flashing blades, she was struck by how quiet the
fight was. The bards had always sang of the clash of arms and the
roar of battle. This fight was so silent it would probably go
unnoticed by someone in the next room.
"Aaah!" Another of the assassins was down, but in taking him out, her
father had received a shallow cut in the side from the remaining one.
Now, as he turned his full attention to the one who had wounded him,
she saw that something was wrong. Given the skill he had shown
fighting two at once, he should have had no problem dealing with the
last one, despite his wound, but instead he seemed to be having
trouble holding his own.
"Give it up old man, you're already dead." taunted the last assassin.
Poison! Her eyes flashed back to her father's wound, but his clothes
were in the way. Still, it was obvious, his movements were far more
sluggish than that one minor wound could account for. With a surge of
grief and hopelessness she threw herself at the assassin.
Her action shocked the assassin who automatically moved to strike her
with his blade. At the last moment he hesitated, as his conscious
mind overrode his instincts. He was under orders to bring her back
alive. That hesitation was all her father needed. With a final
mighty thrust, he slid his blade into the assassin's heart.
He then collapsed to the floor beside the body of his foe.
Moving quickly to her father's side, she reached for his bloodstained
night shirt, carefully folding it back to expose the wound. What she
saw made her breath catch with fear. Already the wound had an
unhealthy gray-black tinge, and angry lines of red were rapidly
spreading from its center.
"No, Daughter," he said, grimacing in pain, "that can wait."
When she opened her mouth to argue, her silenced her with his gaze.
"It can wait. The wound itself is not serious, and neither of us can
do anything about the poison. Our first priority is to get you out of
here." Again stopping her incipient protest with his gaze, he
continued. "Look in the bottom drawer of my desk and you will find a
small wooden box. Bring that box to me."
"I'm not leaving you, Father!" she cried.
"Daughter, for once do as I say!" -cough-
Chastised, remembering what her disobedience had caused, she hurried
over to his desk. Returning with the box, she saw her father had
retrieved his sword. The effort must have been immense, for he lay
there, gasping for breath. Kneeling beside him, she gathered his head
into her lap and tried to comfort him.
"Here is the box, Father."
"Good." He closed his eyes and gathered his remaining strength. The
poison was working fast, already he could feel the numbness in his
limbs, sense the coldness of approaching death. Looking up at his
only child, he was struck again by her resemblance to her long dead
mother. Perhaps that was why he had had such problems raising her.
Too afraid of spoiling her, he had erred on the other extreme. Her
rebellion against his rules was probably to be expected, Gods knew
other children had done similar things. And, despite what she
thought, the disaster currently befalling them wasn't her fault. In
her youthful rebellion she had done nothing that had not been done many
times before. Nothing that should have come to this. It wasn't her
fault that others had taken advantage of her naivete and her actions
and drew her unwittingly into a plot far deadlier that she had ever
dreamed.
"Open the box. Inside is a small bag of gems and an amulet. I had
feared that we might be forced to flee, even if I hadn't expected it
to happen so soon." -cough- "I commissioned the amulet from
Alioreth."
She gave a small gasp. Alioreth was the most powerful wizard in the
area, and his prices reflected that.
"It is already set. In the box is also a scroll with the command
words for it. The first word will take us to a destination far, far
away from here. You just need to put the amulet on, hold my hand, and
say the word. Quickly now, we must get out of here before more find
us!"
Without hesitation, she did what he commanded. As soon as the word
left her mouth they were engulfed in darkness. For an endless moment
everything seemed to vanish, save each other. Together they seemed to
be falling through a cold gray mist.
And then it was over. Surrounding them was a forest glade, with no
sign of anyone in sight.
"It worked." He relaxed on seeing his new surroundings. Now his
daughter had a chance at life.
"Daughter, listen carefully." Waiting until he was sure he had her
full attention, he continued.
"The second command word will send you, and anyone in physical contact
with you, back to the keep. Think carefully before returning! The
amulet will only work for one round trip, and you know that those
pursuing you will have the keep kept under observation until they
locate you!" Seeing her nod he went on.
"According to the wizard, we should be just west of a large city, so
head into the rising sun and you should have no problem finding
shelter." -cough- -cough-
Unable to deny the reason for his growing pallor, she felt tears
flowing down her cheeks. Doing her best to make him as comfortable as
possible, she knelt and put his head in her lap, resting it next to
the slight bulge of her stomach.
"Oh Daddy, I'm so sorry! It's all my fault!"
As the darkness settled in, he gazed for one last time at his
daughter.
"Daughter, it is NOT your fault!" With a far-away smile he continued
"...and its been so long since you've called me 'Daddy'. But now you
must be strong. Take good care of yourself... ...and take good care
of my grandchild. I love you, Nodoka."
"I love you too, Daddy!"
The morning sun was just starting to warm the air as she stepped out
of the forest and regarded the city with wondering eyes. Never had
she seen one so large! For a moment she was intimidated, but she
threw off her fears and walked boldly on.
She had buried her father the best she could. Now she had to find a
safe haven for herself and her future child. Stroking the bundle that
held her father's sword, she reached another decision. If those
pursuing ever found them, fighting skills would be essential. Her
child would need to learn how to fight. She would do all she could to
help her child avoid the destiny _they_ had planned. Whatever
sacrifice was needed, she would make it.
Whatever was necessary.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
17 years later...
Watching...
Waiting...
He sat in his chair, never stirring, almost one with the shadows.
Another candle flickered and died, increasing the shadows surrounding
him. He never noticed. The room around him was tastefully furnished,
and might have been more welcoming in better light, but the light of
the two remaining candles filled it with an ominous gloom. A gloom
that was only intensified by the third remaining source of light.
The man never wavered in his concentration on the item before him.
Fully two feet in diameter, the ball of crystal-clear glass glowed in
the dim light. Held in place on a table that resembled nothing so
much as a grasping claw, it's glow only added to the malevolent
atmosphere in the room. Deep within the globe, images flickered.
Scenes of lands far and near. Places and people both human and... not.
Events great and small. None held his interest for long.
Hour after hour, day after day, he had gazed into the crystal, seeking
the means to achieve his goal, brooding over this unexpected delay in
his plans. Months of observation and study, planning and preparation,
all for nothing! It was as if the Gods were working against him!
Mirthlessly, he smiled at the thought. Truly, there were gods who
were probably working to thwart him. That was why he had chosen those
two in particular. Because, at least for the immediate future, the
Gods themselves were limited in how much they could do to interfere
with those two. He had been watching as they grew in power, as the
confrontation between them drew to a climax, and his forces had been
ready to claim the victor. And then the two idiots had to go and ruin
everything by killing each other!
Had he been another man, he might have given up. Had he been another,
the loss of both choices might have sent him into despair. Being who
he was, he instead calmly went back to his crystal ball and began to
scry, searching for a replacement with a patience bordering on
inhuman. There were possibilities near at hand, however all except a
handful were far below those he had chosen, and that handful was under
the protection of one he did not -yet- wish to challenge.
Finally, his patience was rewarded. Far away, atop a mountain in a
dimension far removed from his own, a previously undetected spark of
power blossomed to life, attracting his attention. He focused on it,
bending his mind and skills toward measuring and analyzing it. At
first his interest was casual, many times he had investigated such
events, never yet had he found what he desired. However, this time
proved to be different. This time, the more he watched, the more he
learned, the more interested he became. The power was a type with
which he was extremely familiar, and he briefly wondered what it was
doing way over there. As he took its measure, he also wondered how it
had hidden from his searches so long.
When he was done he was, well... not happy, happiness was an emotion
he no longer even remembered feeling, but pleased. Very pleased.
This one was at least as suitable as those he had lost. As the surge
of power started to fade, he placed a mystic tag on it, lest it be
lost once again.
Over the following weeks, he set in motion all that was necessary to
achieve his goal. Hours, eventually stretching into days, were spent
homing in on the source of the power he had sensed. It proved to be
an unexpectedly difficult task. Something was interfering with his
scrying. Even with the tag he found it almost impossible to locate
the source. It was not an intentional defense formed by the one he
sought, he would have recognized that. It was almost as if the power
itself was interfering, and that was most unusual.
Others might have become frustrated or angry. He merely became more
and more pleased. Sometimes the best requires the most effort... and
he was one who never settled for second best.
Finally all was in place. At last, his goal was in reach.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Watching...
Waiting...
She stood alone on an endless plain, surrounded by formless chaos.
For years she had kept watch, staring off into the horizon at things
only she could see. With a patience no mortal could duplicate, she
maintained her vigil.
Finally, with what might have been a sigh, she relaxed her watch. Had
anyone been around, they might have heard her deeply resonant voice
say "And so it begins."
Drawing herself up, she teleported to... someplace else.
Respectfully, she reported "My Lord, the time is at hand."
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Author's Notes: Well, if you haven't guessed, there will be quite a
few spoilers for Baldur's Gate 2 in this fic. Be advised.
The beginning of this fic turned out to be rather dark, because that's
the only way I could set up this crossover. I hope to lighten the
tone as the story progresses, but its going to stay fairly close to
the BG2 storyline, so don't expect screwball comedy. Do not, however,
expect an exact retelling of BG2. The basic events will be familiar,
but I intend for Ranma's presence to significantly alter the course
of certain events.