Foreword: This fic is based largely upon the Advanced Dungeons and Dragons
Second Edition game, Baldur's Gate 2: Shadows of Amn, and even a little
Final Fantasy 2, maybe. We'll see as things progress. Either way, I own
none of it, and these are character I have produced from my meandering
imagination, or taken from elsewhere if noted. Obviously, said character
will be modified in personality. The plot is also loosely based on the
Baldur's Gate series, though perhaps it has more roots in Norse mythology.
Cast:
Andrew PanzerHerz: A wandering warrior girt in dark armour, with an even darker soul. He stands six feet and six inches, and is broadly muscled. His blond hair is shoulder length. He wields a bastard of exceptional weight.
Gauntlet: An ancient priest of Helm, the God of Guardians. He was tasked with guarding a sacred goblet, and failed. Now he must set things right. He wields a massive hammer, and is garbed head to toe in steel. Curiously, his helm has no air nor eye slit, decorated only with the Eye symbol of Helm.
Lenneth: Cool, and implacable as a glacier, Lenneth is a female paladin of Helm. She stands five feet and ten inches in height, and wields a two handed sword. She wears chain mail in battle, and about her neck is a symbol of Helm. Her platinum hair and fierce demeanour of one of a Tempuran battle maid, rather than a Godseye.
Brynhild: Proud and bold as any man, Brynhild wields a great spear, and is clad in black plate mail. Of a height and size with Lenneth, she has golden blonde hair. Her desire to prove herself the equal of any male may prove her undoing. Though twin sister of Lenneth, she lacks the discipline and focus to be a paladin, though she pays homage to the Vigilant One.
Lily: A young elf woman, she wields sword and bow with equal skill. A lust for adventure sent this diminutive girl out of elven lands to seek adventure. Clad in green leather armor, she is swift, silent, and innocent.
Chapter 1: Meeting.
Andrew walked, head low, into the small town. His throat was parched from the sweat of the road, and he bore a light sweat on his brow from the heat of the day. His black plate armor was heavy, yet sure proof against the weapons of bandits. The shade afforded by the buildings was most appreciated by Andrew, though he would be too proud to admit it.
He strode into the tavern, his footsteps heavy, almost weary. The building was chilled, though Andrew did not note this until he had secured a room and something cool to be brought to his room, as well as water to wash. He trod up the stairs, and entered the spartan room. A bed, a chair, and a window. The black armored man snorted. He began the process of removing his second steel skin, laying each piece upon the bed after careful examination. He stared quietly out the window.
The water came, and the servant was paid, and the large man entered the water, relaxing muscles stiff and taxed. His eye lids felt heavy, and he was slowly lulled to sleep. At first, he was peaceful, and then, he was fretful, for he dreamt:
Andrew stood amidst a field of the slain, men, women, children of all races. Giant died beside elf, gnome slew human and was in turn slain by orc. It was utter chaos, pointless bloodshed. Carnage, for the sake of carnage. He wielded his own sword, killing, ever killing, shedding blood, and laughing as he did so. Yet, it was not his sword, no…for he did not wield mere steel in his hand, it was something darker, greater. He turned his gaze towards the skies, and as he did, he saw something terrible, though familiar. He had a nagging feeling he should know what it was, when….
He was roused from his sleep by a disturbance at the door. Moonlight softly illuminated the room by way of the uncovered window. The door opened, and soft footfalls drifted towards Andrew, who feigned sleep. The footfalls fell towards the bed, where Andrew had left all of his possessions. With a light curse for his carelessness, he rose quickly from the water, causing much of it to spill of the wooden floor, and he put his arms around the cloaked thief, pinning it's arms with one of his, and clamping a hand over the thief's mouth.
"One wrong noise, and I snap your neck." Andrew whispered into the thief's ear. "Do you understand me?" The thief nodded. "Who are you, and why are you in my room?" Andrew asked.
"My…my name is….Lily…please…don't kill me…" A tiny, shaking voice replied as soon as Andrew removed his hand from her mouth. Andrew released the grip that pinned her arms, and spun her around. As he did, the hood about her head fell, revealing soft elven features, and a tear streaked face. Lily sobbed every now and again.
Andrew rubbed his temple in impatience. "The second question." He said tersely. Lily swallowed, and licked her lips nervously.
"I…the…innkeeper told me this room was free…" She replied in a meek voice, still shaken. She looked at Andrew, and her eyes trailed down, widening, and her cheeks turned crimson, as she turned her back on Andrew again. The man realised he was naked, and pushed aside, and dressed.
"I've slept. I'll don my armor and grab my things, and you are welcome to the room." Andrew said, doing so as he spoke. Soft, gentle hands helped him put his armor on.
"You must have travelled far…to have so many scars…" Lily said. Her cheeks retained a slight blush, and she looked up at Andrew with wide eyed awe. "I…want to be a warrior myself… I can use a bow and short sword pretty well…" Andrew stared at her impassively, and her speech dried up. "I'm sorry…" She said.
"Whatever." Andrew replied. He affixed his scabbard to his belt, and pinned his cloak into place.
"Where are you going…? I…I'd like to come with you…I've been following you for a couple of days…" Lily said. Andrew looked over his shoulder, with a gaze so cold, that Lily felt chilled, and left no doubt as to what the response was. Andrew left the room, and Lily sobbed again at the pain of even this rejection, hearing each heavy footfall. She thought perhaps leaving to adventure was not such a good idea.
Andrew made his way out from the inn, and took the main road to the gate, the archer on the palisade walls eyeing him distrustfully. He was soon swallowed by the shadows of the night, his path lit only by patches of moonlight, and his breath made a fine mist before him. He was wary. All manner of beasts stalked the land in this age, and one should be thankfully if it be merely wolves.
The crude arrowhead splintered on Andrew breast plate, as the battle cries of ogres broke the calm of the night. No help could be expected from the town garrison, as Andrew had gone too far. He drew his sword, silently and efficiently, and side stepped the rush of the lead ogre. Andrew's cut was sure, slashing from crotch to sternum, leaving the ogre to desperately try to cram his viscera back into his chest cavity. The second ogre fared little better, as Andrew lopped it's head off, cutting through the thick muscle of the ogre's bull neck. More crude flint arrows hammered Andrew's plate mails, chipping. This did little to hamper Andrew, though he bled below the eye where one arrow had come near it's mark.
"EeeeeeeeeeaAAAIII!" The cry slowly gained momentum, and Andrew turned, in time to stumble backwards, as an ogre mage slashed downward with it's katana, scoring a line across Andrew's breastplate. The ogre mage did not relent, and it took all of Andrew's skill to attempt to parry. Yet, it was not enough, as the ogre mage unleashed a vicious palm strike the dented the steel protecting Andrew's sternum, knocking him onto his back, ten feet away, and onto his back, gasping for breathe.
Andrew sat up, only to see four bright missiles launched from the ogre mage's index finger. Magic. They missiles struck, and Andrew grit his teeth against pain, though the spell left no mark upon him. He heard more chanting as he struggled to remain conscious, Then it mysteriously silenced. Through vision that swam and was filled with black motes, Andrews saw the ogre mage's grasp go limp, it's katana fall from it's hand even as the other gripped it's throat, as the head of an arrow protruded from it, bright with blood and moonlight. The ogre mage fell, dead, and Andrew saw Lily, standing, eyes wide, holding in one hand her bow, the other covering her mouth. She looked in stark disbelief, and Andrew sunk into darkness.
Andrew awoke to the scent of herbs, and smoke. He was in a small shack, and he grunted audibly as he attempted to rise. He felt along his ribs, felt the bandage, sensing that several of his ribs were broken. Other than the bandage, he nude. He looked about for his breeches, and his eye came to Lily, who was biting her lower lip nervously. "I brought you to the old ranger. He tended to your wounds. I helped." A slight blush came to her pale cheeks, and she looked down demurely. "I saw that you have few scars…is it because of your heavy armour, or your skill?" She asked innocently.
Andrew growled, his voice threatening. "My breeches." Lily demurely rose from her seat, and fulfilled Andrew's request, handing him his clothes, eyes on the floor. Andrew clothed, wincing occasionally. Lily wrung her hands, eyes still on the ground. "How old are you?" Andrew asked, gruffly.
"I am 85 years old." She said defiantly, looking into Andrews' eyes through her lashes.
"Compared to a human, what is that?" Andrew asked, impatiently, donning his armour, growling when he found his breast plate missing.
"It would be 16 or so." Lily replied.
"You will follow me until I allow you to travel with me?" Andrew asked, examining his swords' edge.
Lily suddenly burst open, as if she had been keeping a lid on herself the entire time. "I proved to you I could be useful!! I killed the ogre mage! You would be dead without me!!!" She said, her tone full of energy and passion. Andrew held up his hand for silence. Lily paused, and looked at him in annoyance. "Yes." She replied. Andrew grunted.
"Where is my breast plate?" He sounded more annoyed than anything.
"The old ranger took it to be repaired. It was cut clean through." Lily replied. Andrew sat back down on the bed. Lily would have joined him, except for Andrews' glare. She returned to the chair she had pulled up beside the bed. "What kinds of place have you been to? What kind of things have you done?" She asked eagerly.
"I kill." Andrew replied. When it became clear he would say no more, Lily began to speak, her words a quick waterfall that rushed by him. He was not paying attention, instead, his gaze was fixed upon the door. The old ranger entered, and the two shared a glance. "Lily, go outside." The old ranger said. "I need to talk with this…man." Lily looked indignant.
"But…but we are travelling companions." She huffed, and looked to Andrew for support. "Anything he has to say, he can say in front of me, right?" She said. Andrew shook his head.
"Out." He said, rising. Lily made to protest, but Andrew fixed her with a gaze that was cold as ice. She sniffed, and bowed her head, and quickly stormed out. "Speak, old man."
"Show some more respect for the man who saved your life…such as it is." The old ranger said. He pulled Andrew's breast plate from his pack, setting it down heavily on the desk. Andrew went to retrieve it, and then began fastening it in place.
"Drop the scimitar." Andrew said. "If you know so much, you know how much it will avail you to use it." The old ranger nodded.
"True. But my duty is to protect the balance." The old ranger said, his scimitar, now exposed, shone with a small light. "I saved you for her sake…"
"If you know so much, you know you didn't save me." Andrew replied. The ranger grew agitated.
"Are you always so arrogant?!?" The ranger demanded. His old form shook with indignation.
"Only in front of impotent, blustering old fools." Andrew replied. "Tell her she should stay with you. Learn woodcraft." Andrew suggested.
"I tried. She is set on going with you." The ranger replied bitterly. "If you let anything happen to my niece…"
"Save your threats…you know I can't do anything about it." Andrew said. "I'm going." The human stared down into the eyes of the ancient ranger, who glared with impotent anger, and grudgingly stepped aside.
"We'll hunt you, and kill you, if any misfortune should fall on her." The ranger said, as Andrew placed his hand on the door knob.
"You think it would make a difference?" Andrew asked, stepping out. "Lily?" He called. The elf girl promptly appeared, seemingly from no where, before him. Her smile was back in place. "Your uncle wanted to impress upon me the value of your safety to my personal health. Let's go." He said.
"What?! Did Uncle Ilvirh threaten you?" Lily asked, in shocked disbelief. "But he's so gentle."
"I assume he carries the scimitar for decoration." Andrew replied dryly. Lily bowed her head.
"I apologise for him." She said. Andrew shook his head, and Lily fell silent. "Where are we headed." Andrew looked at her, and snorted.
"The last temple of Bane."
Cast:
Andrew PanzerHerz: A wandering warrior girt in dark armour, with an even darker soul. He stands six feet and six inches, and is broadly muscled. His blond hair is shoulder length. He wields a bastard of exceptional weight.
Gauntlet: An ancient priest of Helm, the God of Guardians. He was tasked with guarding a sacred goblet, and failed. Now he must set things right. He wields a massive hammer, and is garbed head to toe in steel. Curiously, his helm has no air nor eye slit, decorated only with the Eye symbol of Helm.
Lenneth: Cool, and implacable as a glacier, Lenneth is a female paladin of Helm. She stands five feet and ten inches in height, and wields a two handed sword. She wears chain mail in battle, and about her neck is a symbol of Helm. Her platinum hair and fierce demeanour of one of a Tempuran battle maid, rather than a Godseye.
Brynhild: Proud and bold as any man, Brynhild wields a great spear, and is clad in black plate mail. Of a height and size with Lenneth, she has golden blonde hair. Her desire to prove herself the equal of any male may prove her undoing. Though twin sister of Lenneth, she lacks the discipline and focus to be a paladin, though she pays homage to the Vigilant One.
Lily: A young elf woman, she wields sword and bow with equal skill. A lust for adventure sent this diminutive girl out of elven lands to seek adventure. Clad in green leather armor, she is swift, silent, and innocent.
Chapter 1: Meeting.
Andrew walked, head low, into the small town. His throat was parched from the sweat of the road, and he bore a light sweat on his brow from the heat of the day. His black plate armor was heavy, yet sure proof against the weapons of bandits. The shade afforded by the buildings was most appreciated by Andrew, though he would be too proud to admit it.
He strode into the tavern, his footsteps heavy, almost weary. The building was chilled, though Andrew did not note this until he had secured a room and something cool to be brought to his room, as well as water to wash. He trod up the stairs, and entered the spartan room. A bed, a chair, and a window. The black armored man snorted. He began the process of removing his second steel skin, laying each piece upon the bed after careful examination. He stared quietly out the window.
The water came, and the servant was paid, and the large man entered the water, relaxing muscles stiff and taxed. His eye lids felt heavy, and he was slowly lulled to sleep. At first, he was peaceful, and then, he was fretful, for he dreamt:
Andrew stood amidst a field of the slain, men, women, children of all races. Giant died beside elf, gnome slew human and was in turn slain by orc. It was utter chaos, pointless bloodshed. Carnage, for the sake of carnage. He wielded his own sword, killing, ever killing, shedding blood, and laughing as he did so. Yet, it was not his sword, no…for he did not wield mere steel in his hand, it was something darker, greater. He turned his gaze towards the skies, and as he did, he saw something terrible, though familiar. He had a nagging feeling he should know what it was, when….
He was roused from his sleep by a disturbance at the door. Moonlight softly illuminated the room by way of the uncovered window. The door opened, and soft footfalls drifted towards Andrew, who feigned sleep. The footfalls fell towards the bed, where Andrew had left all of his possessions. With a light curse for his carelessness, he rose quickly from the water, causing much of it to spill of the wooden floor, and he put his arms around the cloaked thief, pinning it's arms with one of his, and clamping a hand over the thief's mouth.
"One wrong noise, and I snap your neck." Andrew whispered into the thief's ear. "Do you understand me?" The thief nodded. "Who are you, and why are you in my room?" Andrew asked.
"My…my name is….Lily…please…don't kill me…" A tiny, shaking voice replied as soon as Andrew removed his hand from her mouth. Andrew released the grip that pinned her arms, and spun her around. As he did, the hood about her head fell, revealing soft elven features, and a tear streaked face. Lily sobbed every now and again.
Andrew rubbed his temple in impatience. "The second question." He said tersely. Lily swallowed, and licked her lips nervously.
"I…the…innkeeper told me this room was free…" She replied in a meek voice, still shaken. She looked at Andrew, and her eyes trailed down, widening, and her cheeks turned crimson, as she turned her back on Andrew again. The man realised he was naked, and pushed aside, and dressed.
"I've slept. I'll don my armor and grab my things, and you are welcome to the room." Andrew said, doing so as he spoke. Soft, gentle hands helped him put his armor on.
"You must have travelled far…to have so many scars…" Lily said. Her cheeks retained a slight blush, and she looked up at Andrew with wide eyed awe. "I…want to be a warrior myself… I can use a bow and short sword pretty well…" Andrew stared at her impassively, and her speech dried up. "I'm sorry…" She said.
"Whatever." Andrew replied. He affixed his scabbard to his belt, and pinned his cloak into place.
"Where are you going…? I…I'd like to come with you…I've been following you for a couple of days…" Lily said. Andrew looked over his shoulder, with a gaze so cold, that Lily felt chilled, and left no doubt as to what the response was. Andrew left the room, and Lily sobbed again at the pain of even this rejection, hearing each heavy footfall. She thought perhaps leaving to adventure was not such a good idea.
Andrew made his way out from the inn, and took the main road to the gate, the archer on the palisade walls eyeing him distrustfully. He was soon swallowed by the shadows of the night, his path lit only by patches of moonlight, and his breath made a fine mist before him. He was wary. All manner of beasts stalked the land in this age, and one should be thankfully if it be merely wolves.
The crude arrowhead splintered on Andrew breast plate, as the battle cries of ogres broke the calm of the night. No help could be expected from the town garrison, as Andrew had gone too far. He drew his sword, silently and efficiently, and side stepped the rush of the lead ogre. Andrew's cut was sure, slashing from crotch to sternum, leaving the ogre to desperately try to cram his viscera back into his chest cavity. The second ogre fared little better, as Andrew lopped it's head off, cutting through the thick muscle of the ogre's bull neck. More crude flint arrows hammered Andrew's plate mails, chipping. This did little to hamper Andrew, though he bled below the eye where one arrow had come near it's mark.
"EeeeeeeeeeaAAAIII!" The cry slowly gained momentum, and Andrew turned, in time to stumble backwards, as an ogre mage slashed downward with it's katana, scoring a line across Andrew's breastplate. The ogre mage did not relent, and it took all of Andrew's skill to attempt to parry. Yet, it was not enough, as the ogre mage unleashed a vicious palm strike the dented the steel protecting Andrew's sternum, knocking him onto his back, ten feet away, and onto his back, gasping for breathe.
Andrew sat up, only to see four bright missiles launched from the ogre mage's index finger. Magic. They missiles struck, and Andrew grit his teeth against pain, though the spell left no mark upon him. He heard more chanting as he struggled to remain conscious, Then it mysteriously silenced. Through vision that swam and was filled with black motes, Andrews saw the ogre mage's grasp go limp, it's katana fall from it's hand even as the other gripped it's throat, as the head of an arrow protruded from it, bright with blood and moonlight. The ogre mage fell, dead, and Andrew saw Lily, standing, eyes wide, holding in one hand her bow, the other covering her mouth. She looked in stark disbelief, and Andrew sunk into darkness.
Andrew awoke to the scent of herbs, and smoke. He was in a small shack, and he grunted audibly as he attempted to rise. He felt along his ribs, felt the bandage, sensing that several of his ribs were broken. Other than the bandage, he nude. He looked about for his breeches, and his eye came to Lily, who was biting her lower lip nervously. "I brought you to the old ranger. He tended to your wounds. I helped." A slight blush came to her pale cheeks, and she looked down demurely. "I saw that you have few scars…is it because of your heavy armour, or your skill?" She asked innocently.
Andrew growled, his voice threatening. "My breeches." Lily demurely rose from her seat, and fulfilled Andrew's request, handing him his clothes, eyes on the floor. Andrew clothed, wincing occasionally. Lily wrung her hands, eyes still on the ground. "How old are you?" Andrew asked, gruffly.
"I am 85 years old." She said defiantly, looking into Andrews' eyes through her lashes.
"Compared to a human, what is that?" Andrew asked, impatiently, donning his armour, growling when he found his breast plate missing.
"It would be 16 or so." Lily replied.
"You will follow me until I allow you to travel with me?" Andrew asked, examining his swords' edge.
Lily suddenly burst open, as if she had been keeping a lid on herself the entire time. "I proved to you I could be useful!! I killed the ogre mage! You would be dead without me!!!" She said, her tone full of energy and passion. Andrew held up his hand for silence. Lily paused, and looked at him in annoyance. "Yes." She replied. Andrew grunted.
"Where is my breast plate?" He sounded more annoyed than anything.
"The old ranger took it to be repaired. It was cut clean through." Lily replied. Andrew sat back down on the bed. Lily would have joined him, except for Andrews' glare. She returned to the chair she had pulled up beside the bed. "What kinds of place have you been to? What kind of things have you done?" She asked eagerly.
"I kill." Andrew replied. When it became clear he would say no more, Lily began to speak, her words a quick waterfall that rushed by him. He was not paying attention, instead, his gaze was fixed upon the door. The old ranger entered, and the two shared a glance. "Lily, go outside." The old ranger said. "I need to talk with this…man." Lily looked indignant.
"But…but we are travelling companions." She huffed, and looked to Andrew for support. "Anything he has to say, he can say in front of me, right?" She said. Andrew shook his head.
"Out." He said, rising. Lily made to protest, but Andrew fixed her with a gaze that was cold as ice. She sniffed, and bowed her head, and quickly stormed out. "Speak, old man."
"Show some more respect for the man who saved your life…such as it is." The old ranger said. He pulled Andrew's breast plate from his pack, setting it down heavily on the desk. Andrew went to retrieve it, and then began fastening it in place.
"Drop the scimitar." Andrew said. "If you know so much, you know how much it will avail you to use it." The old ranger nodded.
"True. But my duty is to protect the balance." The old ranger said, his scimitar, now exposed, shone with a small light. "I saved you for her sake…"
"If you know so much, you know you didn't save me." Andrew replied. The ranger grew agitated.
"Are you always so arrogant?!?" The ranger demanded. His old form shook with indignation.
"Only in front of impotent, blustering old fools." Andrew replied. "Tell her she should stay with you. Learn woodcraft." Andrew suggested.
"I tried. She is set on going with you." The ranger replied bitterly. "If you let anything happen to my niece…"
"Save your threats…you know I can't do anything about it." Andrew said. "I'm going." The human stared down into the eyes of the ancient ranger, who glared with impotent anger, and grudgingly stepped aside.
"We'll hunt you, and kill you, if any misfortune should fall on her." The ranger said, as Andrew placed his hand on the door knob.
"You think it would make a difference?" Andrew asked, stepping out. "Lily?" He called. The elf girl promptly appeared, seemingly from no where, before him. Her smile was back in place. "Your uncle wanted to impress upon me the value of your safety to my personal health. Let's go." He said.
"What?! Did Uncle Ilvirh threaten you?" Lily asked, in shocked disbelief. "But he's so gentle."
"I assume he carries the scimitar for decoration." Andrew replied dryly. Lily bowed her head.
"I apologise for him." She said. Andrew shook his head, and Lily fell silent. "Where are we headed." Andrew looked at her, and snorted.
"The last temple of Bane."