Disclaimer: I... uhh... I don't wan't to be, y'know, sued. Not that it would mean anything, nobody can really sue me for much. I don't have much money. So I guess it really doesn't matter, except that going to court would give me an excuse to take off work. But anyway, I don't really, y'know, own much. So, like, this is, uhh... fictional, or something.

Well Met! I, as you are aware, am known as Disclexik. And I'm drinking tea! This is my first attempt at writting a fanfic. I know my spelling may not be perfect, and my gammer could use some work but... nobody's perfect. Anyway, my first story is on a game that I might have spent too much time playing. You all know it as Baldaurs Gate, but I prefer to think of it as home, and a place I'd much rather be then here, on earth. As you can see, my grip on reality is weak. First I'll give you a little info about the protagonist, and I'd like to stress that I am making nothing up about my Character here, and also that a did not cheat in any way to get him to this level.... I just played the game a few hundred or so times. Also... I tend to not be very inventive with names... My Character's name is Kincaid.

Name: Jered Kincaid

Race: Human/Bhaalspawn

Class: Kensai level 9/Mage level 30

Alignment : Neutral/Good

Hit points: 486

Natural AC:0

Strength: 21

Dexterity: 18

Constitution:16

Intelligence:18

Wisdom:19

Charisma:19

Skills:

Longsword***

Dagger*

Quaterstaff*****

Single weapon style**

Two-handed weapon style**

Resistances:

Magic: 30%

Fire:60%

Cold:60%

Lightning:60%

Immune to all weapons +1 and lower.

Bio:

Following the unexpected death of his Gorion, his foster father, as Kincaid learned what he was, and what that implied, his mind opened. All at once sick with guilt, blaming himself for not being able to save the man who had raised him as his own son, and awestruck at the revelation of his heritage, Kincaid suddenly became intensely aware of the fact that there was far too much left unknown to him, and entire world of strange energies and magical powers that he had paid no attention to untill now. A world that could be used against him, and he would be powerless. Vowing to himself that there would not be another Victim of his ignorence, another Gorion, Kincaid immersed himself into the study of magical energies. Before long, Kincaid found that his Knowlage of combat from his days as a Kensai could be used to perfectly compliment his new role, and a quaterstaff in his hands is a lethal weapon indeed.

For as you see, Kincaid spent much of his youth studying tomes on hand-to- hand combat, believing that in such a dangerouse world, self-defense and the ability to properly wield weapons take priority. Though Gorion made an effort to teach him other skills as well, including magic, Kincaid was very focused and would often be found in the courtyards of Candlekeep, sparring with traveling warriors who would stay for the night on thier way. Caravan guards, mostly, but there was always the occaisional weaponsmaster. Though Kincaid could wield a longsword better then most men by the time he was 16, he shunned the cumbersome armor and bracers that would complete the classic "Fighter's Image". Rather, Kincaid turned his studies towareds the mysterious and graceful fighters called Kensai, or Sword Saints.



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(On with the story)

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Chapter One

The end of the beginning

Another fireball blast shook the dias that held the Throne of Bhaal. It's roaring explosion was matched only by the painful scream of the Glabrezu that felt it's full force. The Abyssal creature fell back in astonishment, now remeasuring it's half-elven opponent and the glowing club she held. Jaheira left no room for quarter, however and pressed on with full force, striking repeatedly until another fireball blast shook the dias. At one point, the Glabrezu managed to sweep the Druid's legs from under her with one of it's giant lobster-like claws, but as it reared itself for a killing blow an arrow that looked as though it was charged with lightning slammed into it's chest, followed by another, then a third.

And thus the great beast was silent.

"The bow of Geasen? Why is your sister still using that, hmm?" Said a voice that was nearly as dark and silky as the beautiful elf who it belonged to. "Whatever happened to that Bow we had Cespenar make for her?"

Beside her Kincaid raised a flagon of some steamy liquid to his lips, pausing just before he drank."It's not all that unusual, Viconia. People have been known to grow attachments to some things over time. You know... weapons... armor... figurines... Dark-elven companions... the like. It's hard to give them up even if something supposedly "better" comes along."

The dark elf snorted, but then smiled, despite herself. Turning to her companion, her eyes widened as Kincaid downed the entire contents of the flagon he held. "Just how could you be drinking at a time like this?"

Kincaid only smiled and turned to regard two charging Shadow Slayers, thier wicked claws streatched out to rend the pair to ribbons. Viconia cursed and reached for the Flail of Ages hooked on her belt, but her human companion only smiled again and bent forward at the waist, as if to bow to the two dark creatures. Kincaid's hands made two quick and simple gestures before a firey blast that would give credit to an ancient red dragon burst from his lips, blasting the two Shadow Slayers clean off the dias.

Beside him, Viconia gaped."I.... I've never seen that one before. Another version of Dragon's Breath?"

"No," Kincaid murmured as he shook his head. "Something I picked up from Volo during our stay in Saradush. Though I think he called it Dragon's Belch."

Meanwhile, near the front the the Throne Amillisan the Dark-hearted was hard-pressed to hold her own against Minsc and Valygar, both wielding a blade in each hand and working with perfectly coordiniated and timed attacks. Time and time again the would-be Goddess fell back under the visciouse onslaught the two rangers presented, paying for each mistake with another deep wound. Occasionally one or both would suddenly go into a whirlwind-like attack, often scoring many more cuts and slices along her hide.

"Damn! Damn you. You shall suffer! You all shall Suffer."Amillisan spat as she worked furiously to evade the rangers' attacks, screaming as Blackrazor pierced her thigh and absorbed her blood, draining her strength as it "drank" while healing it's wielder, Minsc.

"No, evil bird-woman! No longer shall any cute and furry animal suffer from your wicked doings. Forever shall your butt be exposed to the rightous kickings of hamsters and rangers everywhere. Yes! Boots shall be sold in great numbers after this day!"

*******

Another fireball shook the dias that held the Throne of Bhaal. Jaheira and Imoen rushed to the two Rangers' sides. Behind them lay the charred remains of yet another abyssal fiend, this one a Balor. Amillisan gritted her teeth in frustration, hurredly parrying and evading attacks where she could as she formed the incantations of a short, but powerful spell. Four fireballs simultaneously shot forth from her outsreatched hands, each one striking a target. Though Imoen, Minsc, Jaheira, and Valyagar were all wearing items that protected them from such and attack, and at least three wearing magic trinkets with regenerative properties, the attack had succeeded in winding and they all struggled for air, unable to rise.

Not too far away, Kincaid sighed at the effects of Amillisan's Meteor Strike (not to be confused with Meteor Swarm, Meteor Shower, or Meteor- ite.). "They'll feel that in the morning."

Viconia nodded in agreement and began gesturing the motions of a spell. Amillisan glared at the pair, her eyes glowing with hatred, casting a spell of her own. Kincaid gritted his teeth and held up his Staff of the Ram and began to advance quickly towards the fell diety, hoping he could strike her before her spell fired. His feet moved as a blur, hastened by the enchanted boots he wore he soon had the melodious voice of Viconia's chanting far behind him. Kincaid raised his staff as he closed the space between himself and Amillisan, but could not strike before her spell fired.

Time did not pause, or slow, but many things happened at once to Kincaid's perception. Dimly aware of the Time Stop spell the Goddess had casted a fraction of a second before his powerful staff would have connected, he was even less aware of the giant fist that had suddenly enclosed around him, rendering him immoble and squeezing the life from out of him. Kincaid's lungs burned and he struggled to inhale air that would not come. Looking up he could only see the culmination of Amillisan's second spell, a Comet, heading straight for him. He could only guess what the third would be.

********

Valygar could remember very few times indeed when he had experienced as much pain as he was now. The Meteor Strike had taken him by surprise (Aye! Blasted the wind right out of him, and nearly his lungs as well!!), but as soon as he found the strength to rise he collapsed again. Disbelief came over him as he stared at his hands, watching them seem to melt before him. In the back of his mind, though the agony that wracked his body he recalled at time when he had asked Imoen to teach him a little about magic, if only to understand it somewhat and know what to expect from a wizard.

"And this spell here," She had said, pointing to a diagram she had drawn for him, "Is called the Wilting spell."

"The what?" Valygar had replied.

"Well, it's actually Abi-Dalzim's Horrid Wilting, But that's a long name for such a simple spell. It evaporates moisture from off of and out of it's targets."

"Sounds terrible." Valygar murmured, though what could you expect from such foul magic?

"Well, not really, save for the smell of course. It's one of those few wide-range attack spells that can be directed towards specific targets. So Kincaid and I could cast this without hurting you, see?"

Valygar took that as little reassurance. "But what if I DO get hit with it? Is there any defense?

Imoen shrugged, smiled, and held up her cup of water as if to toast him. "Keep yourself hydrated. A healing potion is made of liquid, so down one and you'll be killing two birds with one stone, hm?"

Valygar could no longer see his hands, or anything else for that matter. More then forty percent of his body's water had vaporized into a nauseous cloud along with those of his nearby friends.

Hydrated.

Keep hydrated... The Potion!

Valygar's muscles felt like dried leather as he reached for one of the potions of Superior Healing that he always kept tied to his belt. Cramps sprung up everywhere from his shoulder to his wrist within moments. Every inch of motion brought more and more pain. Just a little closer. Valygar couldn't tell how close his hand was to his belt, having lost all feeling, he had to guess. Gasping for air that did not satisfy his lungs, reeking with the stench of his own bodily fluids turned to gas.

There! Pain! Valygar could not scream from the pain. He could not draw the breath to do so. Pain! Feeling! The healing potion splashed over Valygar's ruined hand, restoring his sense of touch and the pain that went with it. Gunting with effort, the ranger grabbed the bottle and pulled it to his dried mouth.

********

Imoen woke up choking on something. Something... liquid. Opening her eyes she saw Valygar kneeling over her, a potion of superior healing in his hand and a relieved expression on his face.

"You're still alive! Thank Mystra!"

Imoen propped herself up on one elbow, took the offered potion an heartily drank from it. Blinking up at him when she was finished and found the strength to smile. "Mystra is the Goddess of Magic, you realize, sir ranger?"

The dark-skinned man nodded and smiled somewhat ruefully."Indeed, Thank Mystra that her foul magic spared you. Not all magic is evil, I know, but I do not count that one among the good ones."

The mage smirked. "It saved your life before."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing."

Imoen grabbed the ranger's shoulder in an attempt to steady herself as she stood, slowly becoming aware of her surroundings. Not too far away Jahiera was casting healing spells on the dried, unconsciousc Minsc. Amillisan was engaged in a furiouse battle with a Fallen Deva (Apparently Viconia's work), and Viconia herself was kneeling over a badly charred body that was not moving. Kincaid.

********

Viconia's hands trembled as she went about the lengthy casting of her most potent healing spell. If Kincaid fell, all was lost, she knew. For her, however, in more ways then one. Moisture gathered at her eyes, blurring her vision as she touched him, her hands afire with magical energy. Then the Dark elf's face twisted in concentation as she focused her mind and poured the healing power into the immobile body laying before her.

Kincaid didn't move.

Panic threated to grip her heart as Viconia searched him. Checking for vital signs... checking for wounds... anything. Then, suddenly, he captured one of her roaming hands with.

"Mmm, that tickles." The wizard mumbled, a small smile curving his lips.

The elven cleric breathed a sigh of relief and sat back on her ankles. Her dark eyes regarded him oddly.

"Oh, I'll be alright, you know that well enough." He whispered, as if to answer her unasked question.

"Yes, of course." She said simply, then lowered her gaze. She had indeed noticed ever since thier earliest days together that Kincaid could take a great deal of punishment. Blades had difficulty piercing his skin, and even then oft made shallow cuts. Hammers and other blunt attacks rarely broke a bone, no matter how hard the blow may have been delt. Still, she would become very unsettled everytime she saw him wounded, even knowing that he would pull through fine. Perhaps each time she feared it would be his last. Jered Kincaid... perhaps literaly the only surfacer who had ever seen her for what she truely was, who had seen straight through the color of her skin and the reputation of her heritage. Through her own barriers meant to push him away and keep herself safe from being hurt.

She looked down to see the wizard holding her hand against the side of his face. "Do you remember that day in the forests north of Umar Hills? When you asked me about living a peaceful life away from all this struggling and fighting?"

The drow looked wistful as she nodded

"The... the Planer sphere... It can't stay in the slums of Athkatla forever, you know. I've been thinking about moving it." He paused, looking meaningfully into her eyes, obliviouse to everything else, including the titanic battle raging but yards away. "Someplace quiet and peaceful, will you come with me?"

She chluckled darkly, then dragged him up close for a kiss. "You already know my answer, abil."

Kincaid pulled himself to a kneeling position. Regarding the tattered wisps and ashes that had been his clothes, he sighed. Fortunately his enchanted gear was still intact. A terrible, tormented scream grabbed the pair's attention. Both turned to see Viconia's Fallen Deva fade into a mist of sparkling light. Amillisan, bleed profusely from countless quickly- healing wounds stood where the Deva had just been, hatred burning brightly in her eyes.

Kincaid and Viconia both stood with gim determination. The wizard's hands already moving through the gestures of a spell as Amillisan began her own spell-casting. Then a giant, disembodied hand apeared over the would- be Goddess, flattened and came down hard, crushing the woman underneath. Twice it came back up only to slam back down, causing the entire dias to shake, before disapearing.

Kincaid glanced sideways in mid-spell to see Imoen leaning heavily on a somewhat dried Valygar. A satisfied smile crossed her lips before the effort of casting the spell rendered her unconscious.

A weak groan escaped Amillisan's lips, along with much blood. Her spell- casting disrupted, she could only look up and watch her doom pour out on to her from the mouth of a disembodied Dragon's head. Kincaid's spell had fired.

********

"Enough! The gods have decreed. This contest is over."

"NOOOOO! I am a GOD! It is not over until I say it is!"

"You are no god, Amillisan..."

The rest of the Solar's words faded as Kincaid sank down onto the floor. He was dimly aware of Viconia, moving down beside him and he reached over to hold her hand.

"So it's over for you, then. Isn't it?" The elf whispered.

Kincaid gave her hand a reasurring squeeze. "No. Only 'this' is over...."

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(Downs 14th cup of Earl Grey)

Okay now! I hope you enjoyed my first chapter to a story I have no title for.... yet. I've now been awake for quite some time now... taking many breaks, you see, and thinking up how to perfectly type my next sentance. So as you can imagine I'm a little wired (Oh, crap! have to go to work in 3 hours.... doesn't matter. I work with Darryl today. He won't mind if I take a nap on the clock), and I am now typing at 70 or so words per minute with 234 mistakes! Caffine!

So, anyway, please be polite with your reviews. And please do review. I know I must have misspelled a lot of things, like Amillisan. I don't know. I'd pop the game in and find out but the game CD is on the other side of my room. That's almost 4 feet away. I'm literally to lazy to get it.