I don't own Obsidian or Neverwinter nights. If I did, Bishop, Casavir, and Sand all would have had full romances. And finally I'm able to post the story after waiting two days.
It had been a long, long month. She sighed, and brushed her dark tresses out of her eyes impatiently, before stepping onto the dock. The hollow sound of the wood beneath her feet as her reconsolation for the horrid trip by boat. She had always liked being near large amounts of water, but there was a distinct difference between being near it, and being on it. In a ship; that did indeed rock rather like a baby's cradle. A baby's cradle being shoved back and forth roughly by two young children. Her legs wobbled slightly under her as she got used to walking on normal land once again.
"-me stomach feels funny." She suddenly overheard Neeshka, and grinned as she realized her friend was mocking their companions. "This boat rocks like a baby's cradle." She let out a rather strangled sound at that comment. "Sounds just like Stumpy, doesn't it Seirye?" The tiefling woman grinned at her; looking rather like a child who just thought up some plan for mischief. "This water is soo unnatural and deep!" Neeshka continued, pitching her voice higher to match that of Elanee. "Not at all like the swamp of dead people I grew up in!" Oddly enough, both Khelgar and Elanee were completely silent. Neeshka made an annoyed face at them. "I haven't got fond memories of the place, but it's home. So were are we to, Sei?" Seirye gnawed on her lower lip thoughtfully as she attempted to regain her balance yet again.
"How about my uncle's tavern?" She said softly, as she was met with nods of agreement. "We could use a place to stay, and certainly the rest to get used to being on solid ground again." With that said, she valiantly led the way towards the Sunken Flagon; though anyone watching them probably would have considered them a group of drunkards for their wobbling legs.
A peculiar group of people entered the Sunken Flagon that eve. Their leader seemed to be a petite elven woman. She had dark curly tresses bound up out of the way, and a demeanor that drew the eye much to her dismay. A red haired tiefling woman leaned over, whispering something into their leader's ear. The elven woman laughed uneasily as she eyed the occupants of the tavern over warily. There were a handful of patrons in the tavern, a couple men nursing their ales at the bar and one lone man sitting at a table by the hearth. A half elven man stood near the end of the bar, and he looked vaguely familar somehow. Her wariness was disrupted though as her two companions bounded up to the bar. The dwarf proclaimed loudly that he wanted ale, a lot of ale. The tiefling woman poked fun at him before disappearing into the shadows. Another elven woman walked up to the bar, their last companion; she seemed mildly amused by everything. Their leader approached the barkeep, a bleary eyed man who smelled faintly of ale and other unpleasant odors. She began almost hesitantly, though her softly lilting voice was anything but.
"I'm looking for Duncan." The man gave her a curious glance, looking over her warily. From her striking violet eyes to her regally delicate facial features, to the scimitars sheathed in her belt that lay haphazardly across her hips. "I'm his niece." She continued, her voice taking on a slight tone of irritation. The barkeep's eyes widened slightly.
"Well now, that's a new one. Duncan hasn't a copper to 'is name if that's what you're looking for." He said jovially, his dark eyes however shone with wariness.
"Daeghun sent me. Seldarine, do you give him this much trouble when he visits?" Duncan's eyes widened with recognition.
"Ah lass. You've grown since I've seen you. Last time I saw you, you were but a babe." He grinned warmly down at her. "You look just like your mother you know. Except the eyes. Esmerelle had blue eyes."
"I was older than that, Duncan." Seirye rolled her eyes in annoyance.
"So why're you here, lass? My brother send you off with trouble racing on your heels?"
"Quite literally." Seirye quipped dryly. She had no idea why Duncan was so amused at her misfortune. "He sent me here to find information about these shards." Duncan's eyes narrowed at her slightly in puzzlement.
"Is that really why you came all this way? To hear about your mother?" She shot him a questioning glance. Duncan rubbed his forehead wearily with his hand and sighed. "You'd have been better off raised by wolves if he hasn't told you about Esmerelle."
"I was raised among them if that counts." She commented wryly, and Duncan sent her a withering look.
"Look, I don't know anything about your mother. All I remember is her mentioning something about a festival after she-" Duncan cut off abruptly once he realized what he was about to say. He coughed before continuing. "No. My brother will have my head if you know. Not to mention it would cause you to make assumptions-"
"Was it one of Hanali's festivals?" She interjected, giving him a rather amused look.
"Enough." Duncan sent her a withering gaze, before changing the topic entirely. "If you want to get information on the shards, we can have Sand look at them again." She gave him a curious glance, which he shrugged off. "Sand is a hedge wizard here in the docks. He's got a dry wit, and he'll always rub you the wrong way. So his name's well chosen." A soft rustle and the closing of the door alerted them to a new person in the tavern.
"Ah, and here I am. Just in time to dodge the barrage of insults from the local barkeep." Drawled the dark haired elven man. He was a bit taller than Seirye. But despite the fact that he was an elf; he had a great deal of human mannerisms. She mentally filed him under as a fellow elf who has lived among N'Tel'Quess for far too long.
"Sand." Duncan growled low in his throat with annoyance.
"Why, I'm surprised you're sober enough to recognize me." Sand said dismissively. He reminded her rather of a cat who had gotten the cream; all of the cream. Self-satisfied and haughty, and still just as aloof as before he received it. Granted maybe he'd indulge you into believing he was grateful, but it was all simply a ploy for more cream in the future. "Past the-" Sand sniffed the air delicately, a look of disdain upon his face. "Stale beer, faint sweat, failed aspirations, vinegar-" Sand took another delicate sniff as Seirye pondered briefly what failed aspirations smelled like before deciding that she was better off not knowing; lest she smell it as well. Sand took a long pause before grimancing in disgust. Definitely a cat. "Unwashed tunic." He simply had to remind her of the bad scents. Seirye scrunched her nose up in distaste. Suddenly Sand turned to her, looking her over appraisingly. She felt rather like a magical object up for auction in a few moments. "Why I knew you were keeping company too good for you." Sand drawled lazily, baiting Duncan mercilessly. Duncan's eyes narrowed at the elven man. "Your guest here has the smell of a harborman about her. Faint, but there." Seirye blinked owlishly, and wondered briefly how pleasant it could be to smell like the Mere.
"This here's kin-" Duncan started, almost protectively. Sand looked momentarily startled; rather like a cat who had been sneaking up on a canary only to be splashed with a great deal of water. He covered his surprise quickly however, and narrowed his eyes in thought.
"I'm not really seeing the family resemblance." He interjected dryly.
"Oh Seldarine." Seirye glanced towards the cieling in annoyance. "My foster father is Duncan's half brother. Technically we are not kin, but I was adopted into the family. Now, could we speak civilly and get the investigation under way?"
Several hours, an ultimatum, a mystery, several empty mugs once filled with Evermead, and one peculiar explosion later, she was lost beyond all hope and reason. They had to go see a sage to learn more about the shards, and possibly figure out why the shards seemed to glow with magical power near her. However, the sage, Aldanon she believed, lived in Blacklake district. And of course, Blacklake district was closed due to the mysterious murders of a couple nobles. The only way to get into Blacklake district were becoming a high ranked officer in the city watch, or finding some other way in. Cormick was in the watch. She shivered slightly before pushing away the memories. He, of course, would love to have her in the watch for more than one reason. None of which she was at all ready to face. So crime, look out. There's a new thief in the district.
Elven Dictionary 101:
N'Tel'Quess: Non-People. Used as a word to describe people of other races. Elven people are referred to as Tel'Quess, or "The People", as they are bound together by the Elven spirit.
Seldarine: Gods. Refers to the Elven Pantheon.
Hanali Celanil is the Elven deity of love, romance, and art.