A/N 1: This alternate universe fic is placed in the Forgotten Realms setting of the AD&D system (yes, I use second edition only. Third edition makes me twitch. 'course, been playing 2nd since the late '80s... it's a bit hard to change when you've gone for over 15 years on a set of rules. :P) and utilizes the combat system (yep, I roll out all the battles) and the monsters with their spiffy stats. I do this because I'm too damned lazy to run this story in my own fantasy world. No knowledge of AD&D is necessary to enjoy the fic – it's just a fantasy piece.
A/N 2: I'll be doing my damnedest to keep everyone's relative personalities intact and the plotline CLAMPesque, but do be aware that some people will be a bit… different. After all, I'm getting a bit further along with some of the characters than CLAMP ever did. They never explained the motives of my favorite character. (sniffs, patting poor neglected Yuuto's head) Also, for some jobs/kits/professions (like a necromancer vs. an onmyouji, or a ranger vs. an inugami priestess, and so on and so forth) there've been slight revisions to the character. Unavoidable. Didn't want everyone to be a priest, as that makes for a very unbalanced campaign. Also going mostly by first names as this is based off of typically European fantasy settings with its castles and dragons (yes, Seiichiro, Seishiro. Gah. Hate the similarities) with the exception of Subaru – as he's not from the Faerun (the main continent), he's allowed to have a different language structure (which'll reflect more traditional Japanese. Yep, he'll be calling him Aoki-san). So bah. Deal with Seiichiro, no matter how unnatural it is to read (and type!).
Disclaimer: I in no way own X or the AD&D system. Don't sue; I'm simply an E5 in the USN, therefore I have no money. Ha.
-BEGIN FIC-
They moved silently through the woods.
Not a single snap of a branch nor rustle of a disturbed leaf marked the passage of the dark company as they made their way along time-erased paths, slinking slowly and with dire purpose towards the small alcove in the mountains before them. The faint moonlight above barely caught glimpses of the traveling party, skittering for a moment upon pale flesh here, blackened armor there, steal and iron held in leather-gloved fist. Dappled light, barely able to caress the dark forest floor with its touch, was thoroughly avoided by the small gathering of persons as they slunk soundlessly towards their destination.
In that alcove was a sizable cave, its true dimensions obscured by the carefully arranged rock formations situated before it and covered with lichens, mosses and small plants. The ivy that coursed over that cave's opening aided those rocks in their task of hiding the depression in the mountain side, dragging its tendrils thickly over the yawning portal to the ancient mount's interior.
As the forest thinned, its trees becoming sparse as the ground near that alcove became too rock-filled to sustain sizable vegetation, the company came to a halt. Dark eyes, narrowed and observant, stared at the cramped interior of the space the gathering had entered without detection. Mostly those eyes focused their gaze at the heavily obscured cave entrance, barely discernable from the cliff's face owing to the thick ivy covering that protected it from immediate view.
"Our goal lies there, my friends," one voice softly whispered. "Prepare yourselves."
One of the six persons huddled in the sparse vegetation before that looming darkness-flooded cavern turned unconcerned hazel eyes at her companion. "You are certain this is the one?"
"Yes," the thick man quietly affirmed. "The balance's shift rests within that cavern. I saw this very image within my reflecting pool two fortnights preceding this night." His hand tightened upon the gnarled haft of his scimitar. "That one who would see to humanity's continued destruction of the natural world of Toril rests within."
The woman slowly nodded, turning her bland stare back to the cavern. "I am surprised you have no issues with this, druid."
"I know it bothers you not, Priestess of Gond, as the mechanisms of your God have no concern about the lives of those we must destroy. I do not have an issue with this slaughter as it is necessary. The fate of the natural world rests within the balance. Humanity's interference must be slowed, if not entirely stopped, before they destroy themselves by demolishing the very lands that harbor and nourish them."
A light, almost jovial voice whispered from behind the two, "Of course the druid would have no issues. Let us move, then. We've work to do, my friends."
The person next to that flippant voice's owner nodded once. "The longer we delay, the more likely the probability of detection. These creatures are highly aware of their surroundings. I can not mask us forever from their abilities with my psionics."
The final person of the company slithered out of the shadows, almost appearing to be one himself as he separated from the mass that masked the gathering. Brandishing his serrated dagger in one hand and slowly turning the tri-bladed parrying knife he wielded in hi other, he flashed a debonair smirk at his companions, amber eyes sparkling. "Let's not wear our Kakyou out. We've a beast to slaughter, a Vistani prophetess' vision to destroy, and our dear friend to rescue from his own destiny."
The lighthearted one's laugh lightly caressed the ears of those who surrounded him. "Indeed. Let us get on with our task, neh? After all, it would be most callously rude of us to keep our own prophetess' wishes delayed any longer. The sister of the Vistani princess expects us to finish tonight."
"Let us go," the first to speak, the massive druid in his dark clothing with his scimitar firmly held in his enormous hand, muttered with a nod.
The company burst from the vegetation that had hid them from detection.
Roars echoed through the night.
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Toru hurried down the sun-bathed grassy slope, carefully picking her footing upon the steep incline. Her natural agility made her progress swift and clean, ensuring she didn't stumble and fall, but care was needed to not stumble upon the random rocks that jutted out of the deceptively kind landscape.
How her companion could move so swiftly and easily before her was boggling her mind. He was no trained rogue, after all, and wasn't one to whom agility and grace would be quickly attributed.
The priest of the goddess Akadi was an experienced wanderer of the road though. Indeed, he'd seen many a year of adventure and journey unlike his young rogue companion who'd barely set out upon her very first campaign a quick three fortnights past.
They were quite the odd pairing to be seen together.
Toru was a strikingly beautiful young woman, bearing upon her lithe frame and dark-haired head an aura of confidence bordering upon arrogance in the depth of her nubile abilities. Dressed in tightly fitted pants crafted of supple dark brown leather and a blouse of soft yellow silk that tucked into those pants and ballooned about her well-defined figure, she was a striking image to behold with her mocha hair tied into a long, lush ponytail at the nape of her neck and her soft wavy bangs hanging in equally soft, luminous brown eyes. Around her slender waist was wrapped a hard black leather belt held in place by a strong silver-colored simply designed loop buckle, sturdy enough to support the weight of the scabbard she possessed and the finely crafted dagger said browned scabbard held along with the thick canvas bag in which she held her wealth. That bag, containing her silver and copper amongst the few golden pieces she and her companion had earned for their hard work and the gems she'd relieved a merchant of, accompanied the weighty backpack that sat squarely between her lithe shoulder blades to encompass her worldly possessions. Soft slip-on riding boots, died black with hard soles, adorned her feet to protect them from the rocks and mud of the landscape. Armor sat loosely about her shoulders, being nothing more than a supple leathery tunic covered with a plethora of skillfully sewn-on rings of hard iron, covering her vitals to afford her protection yet allowing her all the mobility the simple shirt she wore under that soft piece of thick animal skin would grant her for her work. Her only weapon, the dagger in the scabbard upon her belt, was an instrument of beauty in of itself – stolen from an artisan's stand, it sported a glistening golden hilt crafted skillfully into the shape of a dragon; the creature's wings formed the splayed protectors, the tail made the hilt and the blade of the weapon erupted from the dragon's opened mouth. That blade was waved and etched to imitate the fire that supposedly blasted from the hilt-dragon's maw, finishing the masterpiece that was now rightfully hers.
Her companion, the priest of the Queen of Air, was a tall, stately man decked in the soft robes of white, light gray and light blue that represented his goddess' many differing faces. Those robes, crafted of heavy cotton and dyed such that the differing colors swirled and flowed about the priest that wore them, were accompanied by a large pendent crafted of sapphire and etched with Akadi's symbol hanging upon a slender silver chain that was his holy symbol, the icon through which he channeled his deity's powers and crafted his magic. About his well-shaped waist to gather his robes into a manageable garment to allow for easy travel was a silken sash, silver in color and tied decoratively into a loop which supported the weight of his ever-present iron-headed mace, its weight balanced by a handily hung quiver of flight arrows that dangled upon his opposite hip from that same sash. Under those robes, known only to him and his companion upon the road, rested enchanted chain mail laid over comfortably quilted padding specifically designed for his sturdy and finely toned frame, granted to him by the elves themselves as thanks for some grand service he'd done them on one of his past adventures. His boots, browned with the road's dirt, were once a soft gray to match his garments. Chocolate eyes peered with wonder and almost childish glee upon the road through finely crafted spectacles, their corrective glass held by delicate golden rims upon his lightly sloped nose. Soft brown hair swung into his face every now and again, sweeping into soft waves of bangs that caressed his forehead while the rest of its lengths were cut closely to his head. Upon his back, much like his female companion, rested a backpack containing his life's possessions and that bit of wealth he necessitated for survival or had not yet tithed, and upon the top of that backpack was strapped his bow.
He had agreed to take her from the boredom that was her life and teach her the ways of the road when he had swept into her hometown of Neverwinter. They'd been journeying, quite excitingly and profitably, for quite some time, getting to know one another's capacities and styles. She enjoyed his company, lavishing in his friendship, and he felt the same. Nothing more than friendship had erupted though – the priest was simply too flighty for her liking, being one with the wind that he served and revered (she understood fully now why the Airwalkers of Akadi were often referred to as 'windbags'). As for him, Toru, while three years older than his gentle seventeen years, was still a child. After all, she had spent her twenty years of life enclosed in the protection of a town, living in the safety of her parents' house and never giving thought to the repercussions of her 'hobby' until the magistrate caught her in his house trying on his mistress' finest gowns for 'fun.' He had been on the road since his thirteenth year, running away from his parents' house in the far-off township of Starmantle Bay to follow the call of the wind and learn the Queen of Air's mysteries.
They finally reached the bottom of the slope they'd been skirting for the last few minutes, intending to cut through the sparse wood before them.
"You're certain the trade route to Waterdeep lies on the other side of this wood?" Toru asked, arching a brow at the priest. She had faith in his ability to journey – however, his navigation skills were as trustworthy as the wind itself.
"I'm positive, Toru! I know precisely where we are. In fact, it was but two years ago that I found this very shortcut. It was an accidental discovery then, but not one I'll likely ever forget."
"Do tell, Seiichiro."
Smiling brightly, the priest adjusted his spectacles slightly. "I'll never forget it, as it swept me right past a dragon lair."
"Seiichiro Aoki, you lunatic! Why are we going anywhere near dragons?" Toru nearly screeched, her eyes springing wide with panic.
"Ah, there's nothing to fear, Toru! They're silver!"
She glared fitfully at the jovial priest. "And?"
"Do you know nothing of dragons? Silver dragons are quite good, being creatures of law and kindness. They often disguise themselves as humans to mingle with us."
"I don't believe you," she huffed.
"Ah, you shall see," Seiichiro happily chirped.
She held her head in dismay as she followed his robed form into the vegetation.
It was two hours before Seiichiro stopped his steady gait, coming to an abrupt halt right before her. She very narrowly avoided slamming full-force into his broad back.
"What did you-"
"My dearest Goddess," he softly interrupted, his voice filled with horror, his attention directed entirely away from her and upon the scene he was witnessing from the tree's protection.
Stopping her rant mid-sentence, Toru instead got up on her tip-toes and stared over her companion's shoulder. Her eyes sprang open.
The alcove before them glistened ruby-red in the afternoon's sun.
Instinctively, Toru dropped back to the flats of her feet, covering her mouth with her hands.
Two large silver dragons lay perfectly still in the open, their jaws open, blood congealed below their massive frames. That in itself wasn't that brought the bile of her stomach to her mouth, though.
The corpses of the glorious beast, whose praises her priestly compatriot had been singing during their entire journey through the thin wood, were ravaged. Indeed, they appeared to be deliberately cut to pieces, parts of them salvaged – teeth, eyes, choice scales, talons, pieces of tongue, chunks of heart and intestine, vital organs, the tips of horns and other such oddities were missing.
"By Akadi, they were butchered for spell components," Seiichiro softly hissed. "Good creatures who protected these woods and the villages near it from the ogres and giants of the nearby hills were butchered for spell components. I can't believe this."
Stepping forward, Toru stared with abject horror in her eyes.
It wasn't just the two giant beasts.
She felt tears spill upon her cheeks as she stared at fragments of eggshell, the yellow yolk that once filled the vessel dried upon the hard rocks of the alcove, the small dragon that once laid curled in that egg butchered like its parents, its tiny frame crumpled and twisted with rigor.
A steadying hand found her shoulder. "They were likely defending their clutch. It takes a being of incredible evil to do such a heinous deed," Seiichiro mumbled.
"Let's search the lair," Toru finally managed to get her throat to release.
"What?"
"Let's search the lair," she whispered again, "and see if anything survived.
Inside the lair was no more beautiful than the lands immediately outside of the ivy-covered cave's entrance. Gold and jewels laid littered everywhere, accompanying finely crafted swords and armor, boxes of unopened treasures, fine statues, delicate vials of perfumes and potions, scrolls and wands, rods of untold powers and the like. Such quantities, undisturbed save for the falls of dragon and butchering foe foot dashing the contents of the lair's horde about, seemed to confirm what Seiichiro had muttered outside – that they dragons had been indeed slaughtered for spell components. Most of the treasure, while normally something that would be scampering into Toru's talented fingers and eager bag, had lost its gleam and lustful quality with the fine layer of fetal dragon blood that was splayed about, dashed over treasure, cave floor and cave wall in grotesque quantities. Smashed eggshell crushed underfoot, the crackling sound much like the breaking of delicate bone.
Stopping her short sojourn through the cavern, Toru let the sickness that overwhelmed her at the smell and sight of the slaughter of such innocent, harmless creatures pass, relinquishing her breakfast upon the cavern floor.
As Seiichiro lightly rubbed her shoulder, standing behind her in silent support, her sharp ears caught the odd sound of light tapping a few feet to her side. Turning her head, she stared.
The small pile of gold that was beside her was tapping.
A golden coin rolled down the mound and twirled about on the ground.
"Something's in there," Toru softly whispered, pointing shakily at the pile.
Seiichiro already had his mace ready, gripping its haft tightly in his hand. His bow remained upon his back, him realizing how pointless the weapon would be to wield within an enclosed cavern despite it being his weapon of choice.
Toru slipped away from the priest, her dagger being readied quickly in her right hand to defend her. Gulping nervously, she reached towards the bloodstained pile with her trembling free fingers, brushing the vitae-splattered coins away.
She nearly cheered as she revealed a small, brown-spotted white egg. "Seiichiro! One made it!"
A pleased sigh escaped the priest as he quickly stowed his mace, his eyes glistening in unshed tears of satisfaction. "Thank you, Akadi," he whispered in soft reverence and grateful pleasure.
The eggshell suddenly cracked, then stopped moving entirely. Without thinking, Toru reached out, her dagger dropped at her feet and her illness over the thick blood that surrounded her forgotten. Laying her hands upon the shell, she hastily dug her fingernails into the slender crack. "Come on, little guy. I'll help you out of there. You must be so tired, after such a trying time. Not even born yet, and already you've been through so much."
Seiichiro knelt at her side, sliding her dagger away in its scabbard lest she forget it, then assisting her in her task by tackling the crack a bit further along the egg. With their combined strength, they pulled the top of the stubborn shell open.
Toru gushed with delight as she stared into the newly opened shell.
Laying in the bottom of its egg, weariness evident in its tiny frame, the small silver dragon blinked tired amethyst eyes at Toru.
"It's so cute," she cooed even as she reached into the egg, fearlessly caressing the tiny dragon's head.
As it peeped cheerfully, its tiny pink tongue licking eagerly at her offered fingers, the dragon struggled to lift its head to her hands.
Seiichiro sighed quietly, dipping his hands into the shell and handily lifting the three-foot long body free from its prison. "Well now, whatever shall we do with you?"
"We can't just leave it here," Toru said, her eyes focused on the brilliant violet orbs of the baby that was mewing pathetically at her. "It'll die without its parents."
"Maybe we can deliver it to a sage in Waterdeep."
"No! A sage will experiment on it! Or turn it into a servant!"
"Toru-"
"I'm keeping it."
"What will your parents say?" Seiichiro questioned, staring at the small creature in his arms as it yawned, displaying its tiny fangs for the world.
"I… I don't care. I'm not going to leave it to die."
"It's not some human orphan you…"
Toru's eyes sparkled. "What if it was?"
Seiichiro smiled brightly. "But if it was, they'd have no objections to you arriving back at home with it, would they?"
"Precisely. Come! We must get to town and find a mage!"
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It was nearly an entire fortnight later when Toru finally returned to her hometown of Neverwinter. With the fortunes she'd made on her short journey with the wandering priest of Akadi, she purchased her own small house and began to ply the skills she'd been intended to practice to make her living by her parents' wishes – she began to cook the pies her mother had taught her to make and sell them in the marketplace. Her parents agreed to assist her while she got her feet underneath her, readily accepting their newly adopted grandchild into their family.
She lusted for the road, but she had something to keep her rooted.
And as long as that which kept her rooted to her town and her life of mediocrity needed her, she truly didn't mind.
The small chubby infant in its basinet squirmed, its tiny pink limbs reaching for her as she swooped over its to give it the bottle that contained its breakfast.
"Welcome home, my dear son," she cooed, lightly brushing the tiny tuft of black hair that erupted from the child's head.
"Are you certain you'll be alright?" Seiichiro asked even as he pulled the cinches shut on his backpack, prepared to return to the road that evening.
"I'll be fine," Toru said, a smile upon her lips. "Thank you for ensuring that we got settled in alright."
"It's my pleasure," Seiichiro proclaimed with a nod. "Do expect to see me again."
"Oh, you better! He'd better not be lacking for his 'Uncle Seiichiro' in his life."
Laughing brightly, the priest shook his head. "He won't be. I promise to swing by soon enough." Walking to the basinet's side, he lightly stroked the baby's cheek, grinning as innocent amethyst eyes stared lovingly up at him even while eager lips suckled at the bottle's nipple. "He certainly is a cute little baby, isn't he?"
"That mage did a marvelous job with his polymorph spell," Toru agreed.
"Well, then, I should be on my way."
"Goodbye, Seiichiro," the young rogue softly said, enveloping the priest in a gentle hug.
"Goodbye, Toru. I wish you luck with the boy."
She laughed brightly. "Kamui and I will be just fine."
tbc...