Notes: Just keeping you all informed that I'll be trying to maintain the following pages of story at about this length or longer from now on. Now comes the good stuff!

The Journey Awaits

"Heya! It's me, Imoen!"

I stepped through the front entrance of the central library, entering the bright of day when I was spotted by none other than Imoen herself. Her sudden greeting gave me a start, nearly causing me to lose my grip on the newly acquired bag of coin Gorion had given me. She looked the same as she always had, her hair parted to both sides of her face and dyed the odd color pink, the same as nearly all of of her clothing. I couldn't help but think of her choice in color somewhat childish, though I supposed it only fit her personality all too perfectly.

"What'cha up to Ale?" She asked with a smirk at my sudden surprise, studying me curiously with those vibrant blue eyes of hers.

"Why must you always insist on calling me that Imoen? You know I don't even like most drink." I asked in slight annoyance, though I could tell she knew I did not mean any of it.

"Aw come on, just because you don't guzzle down booze like that smelly ol' drunk Hull doesn't mean you have to hate the stuff." She reminded with a grin. Imoen knew well enough I didn't care for most alcohol but felt clear need to use the old childhood nickname despite this. She smiled again before giving me a quick jab to my ribs until I awarded her with a gruff laugh.

"Yeah well, you know the stuffs not good for you. You've seen how it effects people and..." I trailed off, my mindset once again returning to the task Gorion had insisted I make great haste with only moments ago. I gave a sigh and scratched the back of my head, wanting to end this conversation quickly.

"I'm sorry Imoen, I really must be going now." I looked toward the general direction of the Candlekeep Inn, returning to see an even more curious Imoen who raised an eyebrow in response. No doubt she had picked up on my odd manner. She always had a way with knowing when something was amiss.

"Going? Now where could you be off to I wonder? That stuffy ol' Gorion isn't known for letting you shirk your studies so easily." She said with another grin, folding her arms expectantly as she waited for an answer. I sighed heavily once more.

"Well if you must know." I began to explain, knowing any protests would get me nowhere with her. "Gorion and I are to go on a journey of some sort, to where or why I know nothing of. It's very important." I said with very distinct inflection on those last three words.

I had expected her to be a little upset considering she was never allowed to do any traveling the same as me. Instead however, she seemed uncharacteristically saddened by this news. Her normally cheery mood suddenly turned dour, her young pale face now accommodating a rarely seen frown.

"Oh... I suppose that explains those letters I read on Gorion's desk then..." She muttered quietly, barely a whisper as she looked down at her feet with what seemed like guilt, as if she committing some hidden crime.

"Letters?" I asked curiously, unsure of what else to say at her sudden change of mood.

Many years have I known Imoen and always was it apparent her curiosity got the best of her. She was often prone to sneaking into other peoples belongings, despite the many warnings Gorion and the monks would give her. She would always come to show me her finds after an exploration up in the guests rooms inside the tavern, cracking jokes at their expense. Her trouble making nature no doubt causing her caretaker Winthrop to go gray before his years. But perhaps her skills as a thief may come to good use for once. I was still concerned for Gorion after all, only wishing to understand what bothered him so greatly and what this journey might entail. She quickly dissuaded any notion of explanation however.

"Actually you're right, you should get going. Big adventure ahead of you!" She immediately perked up, dodging my question entirely. "Wish I could go, yep! Course ol' puffguts Winthrop wont let me out of his sight none. Probably looking for me right now to finish off his chores." She then jokingly looked around as if he would be nearby, thundering over any moment now. She always had a way with holding onto the lighter side of things.

"Well you never know, I could always ask for you to come along." I said with a smirk. Though Gorion cared for her deeply as much as I, we both knew he would rather have her stay out of trouble and continue her studies instead.

"Oh you know better than that!" She giggled and slapped me lightly on the shoulder. "You go and get back to whatever you were doing now, you and Mr. G just be safe on your journey okay?" I gave her a quick nod of understanding at that followed by a quick hug of her own before we finally parted ways.

"See-ya Ale!" She said with a final wave of goodbye before turning away to leave. I almost wanted to stop her so we could have talked awhile longer but she was right, I had more pressing matters to attend to. Even though this might be the last time we would see eachother, something in my mind told me otherwise. I could only hope.

I soon departed the inner grounds of the library-keep and made my way towards the Candlekeep Inn. Dreppin and Phlydia stood nearby outside, discussing some matters of her missing book and his sick cow, but I paid them little attention. I soon stood before the inn's entrance when I realized I had packed nearly all that I needed beforehand, all enough to survive in the wild properly at least. I suppose I must assume Gorion would have me purchase weapons and armor with this gold instead, he did mention the road would be dangerous after all.

Upon entering the inn I was, as expected, asked if I knew of the five thousand gold piece entrance fee. Winthrop may be getting old, but his jests were definitely becoming older. Still, he was a good man and I forced a small chuckle for him before we got down to business.

"A journey eh boy? I suppose you're lookin' for some proper gear to defend oneself then?" He asked with thick meaty a hand held just below his chin, giving me an inquisitive look.

"Besides some extra food for the journey, I believe I have everything else short of a weapon, sir." I answered with a curt nod, taking special care to address the man properly, even if it wasn't necessary.

Truth be told I still kept the dagger Fuller had given me for my twentieth birthday recently, but I thought better then to rely on that alone. He had given me the small blade and said it belonged to his father, explaining it was used to kill some great beast many years ago. It was an unexpected and welcome gift, though I knew I would need something more intimidating than that for this occasion. Along with the dagger I possessed I had little else on me, and that wasn't about to change much. I assumed given the nature of Gorion's hurry we would need to be light on our feet, so I ended up opting to only wear some old hardened leathers I kept along with my cloak for more harsher climates.

"Hmm, a weapon ye say? I think I know just the thing, be back in a tick." Winthrop said before quickly disappearing into the nearby storeroom. He came back moments later, an armful of dried beefs and other well preserved foods cradled in his large arms. As he set the foodstuff down for my inspection he reached under the counter and produced a longsword, holding it out with open palms for me to see.

"Your trainers seem to talk highly of your skill with such a blade. Go on, give it a look see." He spoke with a slight grin as he gently set the blade down into my own hands.

I moved my left hand free from the blade and clutched my fingers around the hilt of the sword, testing its weight as I held it up high in the air. It looked no different than others I've seen emerge from the scabbards of the watchers, our diligent guards who protect Candlekeep. Though this one was now to be mine, and in fine condition no doubt!

"Well, we usually practiced with wooden swords, but this does look to be a fine blade indeed." I spoke with an eager smile that I'm sure was plastered wide across my face. As I continued to study the weapon Winthrop gave a chuckle, pointing at the sword in question as he spoke.

"Aye it is! Came from a trader coming from Nashkel it did. He talked much on most metalwork being hard to come by as of late, given the iron shortage they have down there right now. I suppose I was lucky to have acquired it while I did." He crossed his arms at that, thinking upon it further.

"Iron shortage?" I asked with sudden curiosity, once again hearing of such claims of trouble, despite never having learned anything further myself.

"That's what every ones been sayin' lad. That, and much talk of the recent bandit troubles of course." He said with slight concern, giving an earnest look of worry towards me with that latest spoken thought.

"Ah, but never mind all that, ye needn't think too much on it lad. You'd be well impressed to know Gorion himself handled far worse than a few measly bandits back in the day." He explained with a wry grin, attempting to reassure my confidence in the man. "Now, will ye be needin' anything else?" He finally said before giving his hands a quick slap and rub together in anticipation.

"I suppose not." I said with a shrug. I procured the small amount of gold Gorion had given me and handed the sack over to Winthrop. "Will this be enough?" I asked as he took a quick look inside, uttering a sharp laugh of surprise after a moment.

"Haw! I would hope not lad! Else my here 'entrance fee' wouldn't be the only thing customers be grumblin' about." He explained cheerily before fumbling through the small sack of gold while humming an off sounding tune. Eventually he drew out a couple dozen or so coins for his keeping before handing the remainder of my gold back to me.

"Here ye are lad. Just do me a favor and remind Gorion on teaching ye about proper trading. Handing a man a sack full of coin without asking the price of their fee will get you out of a pretty penny it will!" He finalized with another laugh, which I returned with another forced chuckle for his benefit.

"Thank you for the advice and the new sword Winthrop. Hopefully we'll be coming back soon, maybe then I'll even have a story to tell for a change." I joked as I packed away the food into my rucksack and fastened my new weapon to my belt.

"Haw! Maybe lad, maybe. Ye just remember to tell that blasted Imoen to get back here soon and turn the beds when ye see her. I swear that girl will be the death of me." He grumbled on, obviously not liking the idea of having to do all of the cleaning for his inn himself.

"I'll keep an eye out for her." I said in response with a smirk, which he returned in kind.

I was ready to leave and had begun making my way to the inn's entrance once more when I noticed a familiar face within the inns common room. He was sitting in a large rounded chair near the fireplace, reading a rather old looking book with interest. There was no more of a rush in my tasks at the moment, all of my needed equipment having been gathered or purchased already, so I thought best to say hello before leaving. I made my way over towards the old man, who was still busily reading The History of the Fateful Coin I noticed as I moved closer. Even as I stopped a foot away from him he took no notice, forcing me to clear my threat to garner his attention.

"Firebead Elvenhair, I did not know you were passing through Candlekeep once again." I said with a friendly smile. He finally looked up from his tome and studied me for a moment, soon recognizing me and showing a toothy smile of his own. He set his book down on a nearby table and got up to shake my hand with both of his.

"Ah yes, you are Gorion's ward are you not? My, you have come into your own. If you would permit an old man jealous of youth to say so." He said the last with another knowing grin spread across his withered face. Though I did not know exactly , Firebead must be of quite a considerable age for an elf to look as old as he does now. Gray hair may be common amongst humans at around fifty years, but in an elf it could take centuries for his race to see any real signs of aging.

"I've only come for a brief visit from Beregost I must admit. Banditry and the local iron crisis make for a dangerous road to travel these days." He continued, stopping a moment as he noticed the equipment I carried on my person. "But I see I am not the only one to be traveling as of late, where might you be off to child?" He questioned with curious interest.

"My foster father and I are going on a journey actually, though he did not speak much of our destination." I said a little glumly. The old elf nodded his head, studying me for a moment before speaking.

"They say when starting a new journey, one should be as prepared as one can beforehand. Though," He chuckled. "I see you are well enough equipped already. Still, I might be of some aid to you yet child. Should evil magic befall you come the start of your travels, Seldarine forbid, mayhap this spell of mine would protect you. If you would permit myself to do so of course." He explained in length following a warming smile as he patiently waited for an answer with his hands clasped behind his back. Though I knew little of how most magics worked, I saw many a demonstration by Gorion or his colleagues own hands growing up, easily earning my respect for its raw power. Seeing no harm in his simple protection spell I gladly obliged, giving a simple nod in agreement.

"It will take only a moment." He said before readying himself for his spell. He brought his hands back to his front and held them several inches from my body. Bluish green light suddenly erupted near the ends of his finger tips. The light began swirling around my body and soon enveloped me completely, only to quickly dissipate moments later as he brought his hands back to his sides.

"There, that should be all. Send Gorion my best regards won't you?" He said with another warm smile as he patted my shoulder before slowly moving back down to his chair.

"Thank you Firebead. Until another time then I suppose." I said at last as a way of goodbye.

"Safe journeys to you child." He spoke before picking up his book again, continuing his reading in silence once more.

I soon left the inn and looked toward the sky. Judging by the light's direction, I realized there was still a couple hours of light left before Gorion would be expecting me. Normally I would be studying right now or doing chores, but with those dismissed for the day I had ample time for once to do whatever I wished. After a short while thinking upon it, I decided to simply wander the grounds for awhile. Perhaps I would bump into Imoen again? I could only hope.

As I casually walked along the dirt path that circled the aged fortress, I almost thought it a good idea to visit Jondalar one last time. Unfortunately that idea was quickly shattered. That infuriating dwarf Reevor suddenly burst into view from a nearby storehouse, complaining angrily of a rat infestation. He was often known for setting mundane tasks like this for me and Imoen to take care of. Not wanting to be a part of another vermin hunt, I thought best to head back the other direction, not wishing to spend my last moments in Candlekeep killing rats for a reward he called "experience".

As much as I liked the idea of no responsibilities for once, it was terribly boring as well. I was just considering heading back to the central library early when I noticed the monks living quarters, with its front door ajar. Perhaps I would find Tethtoril there? He and Gorion knew each other well and was one of the more tolerable teachers I had come to know throughout my life. I entered the building only to find it strangely empty. Usually Parda or Karan at the very least would be here, studying some parchment or other. Moreso, something else bothered me. For some odd reason the whole situation seemed strangely...off. I was just considering to make for a hasty leave when I noticed a small smear of liquid in front of one of the empty bunks on the wooden floor. The room was rather dark inside, short of the smoldering embers in the fireplace and the occasional candle lit on a reading desk, so I decided to inspect it closer.

I cautiously stepped toward the small amount of liquid, squinting as I tried to decipher just exactly what it was I looked at. I discovered there was a trail of this dark liquid, leading towards the other side of the bed. Perhaps from a broken bottle of some sort? It was strange. I followed the trail around the other side of the bed, where on my discovery sent me sprawling backwards into a nearby desk in surprise. It was Parda! Only...he was dead. The trail of what I now realized could only be his own blood was coming from a gaping cut across his throat, the look of shock across his face something that I knew would haunt me for months. It was as if his throat was slit, and his body dragged away to be hidden in between the bunks that lined the structures walls.

I was so surprised by the sight of his still form I nearly jumped a foot when the front door suddenly opened loudly. A man with a rather peculiar look on his face stared directly at me with glee, with another following close behind him. He looked to be a rather pale person judging by the lighting, thin and gangly in build. Though more importantly he continued to wear that uncomfortable looking grin across his face, making me feel sick to my stomach. The man that followed him in only cast me an angered glare before promptly slamming the door behind him shut. I slowly got back up to my feet, trying to keep my attention on them and not on the still form of the murdered Parda.

"Oh goodie!" The thin man spoke first, casting that same sinister grin my way. "We've gone and found ye first! You're Gorion's ward no doubt?" He smiled anew as I stared blankly at them both, not knowing what to say in response. I was sure these men had something to do with what happened to Parda.

"Aye, he matches the description alright." The other man said, eying me up and down. "Ye don't look so tough ta me." He said before drawing a longsword from his side, holding it low towards me. I quickly looked around the room for another exit but could see none. I backed once again into the desk behind me, soon realizing I had no other options left. I drew my own blade, ready to defend myself if I had to.

"Who, who are you people?" I asked nervously, my eyes not daring to look away from either of their cruel faces now. "Why are you here, why did you kill Parda!" I pointed my blade at them both, knowing well enough I was in no real position to be shouting demands.

"Who we are is not whats important here, whelp!" The larger man said in a sneer, causing me to flinch at his harsh tongue. "What is important is the head on your shoulders, which we intend to take!" He took a step forward but his smaller companion halted him with a hand, casting me another evil looking grin.

"I must apologize for not fully explaining the motives of me and my dear friend here." The sinister man explained nonchalantly. "But we are on a rather tight schedule and exposition is simply not our forte, the monk who found us was simply...a liability." He explained with another devious grin.

"So! Let us get this over and done with, shall we?" He said at last before pulling free a sharp dagger from his belt. All of a sudden he quickly charged for me, attempting to close the distance as he tried to repeatedly slice me with his blade. I just barely managed to continue evading his attacks, doing my best to stay away from the ruthlessly fast attacking fiend. Soon the shock began to wear off of me and my brain started working properly again, remembering that I could fight back just as well. I dodged another lunge and retaliated with my elbow to his jaw, knocking him to the wooden floor with a grunt. I was expecting him to get back up but instead he remained there on the floor, apparently knocked unconscious from my attack. That was easy.

Just as I remembered the fight wasn't yet over his friend lunged at me with his blade. He gave a shout, his weapon striking against mine with a scream as steel met steel. Suddenly all of those years of training with Jondalar kicked in and I easily matched the man before me with strike after strike. It soon became obvious he was inexperienced with the weapon, eventually exposing himself for a perfect opening. Before I even knew what I was doing I forced my blade straight through his chest with a loud shout. His shocked face was mere inches away from mine as I stared at him with a sudden feeling of pure hatred burning in my eyes. I then wretched my blade free from his skewered torso, his body falling limp to the ground without another movement or sound.

I was breathing heavily then, though completely unscathed from the entire struggle. I looked down at his silent unmoving form with a deep satisfaction, feeling the blood in my veins on fire with delight like I've never felt before. I then looked toward the other man on the ground, he was breathing, but likely still incapacitated from the blow earlier. I took a few steps closer and raised my blade high above his body, excited in the chance of being able to kill again. I turned his body over with my boot and was ready to plunge my blade straight into his chest.

I suddenly stopped myself at the last second, mere inches from ending his life. I took a step back in horror as I suddenly realized what I was about to do. I let my sword drop from my hand, letting it clatter noisily as it hit the wooden planks beneath me. I slowly turned my hands over as they shook with fear. I could clearly see the blood covering my palms, and it belonged to the man I had just slain. I quickly fell down to my knees, still staring at my bloodied palms as they continued to shake violently.

I tried to grasp what had just happened, but could not believe it. I had just killed a man...and I enjoyed every second of it! It was all too easy, just one stab through the chest, I had even tried to murder a man who could not defend himself! It was at that point I realized what I truly was just now. A murderer. I killed a man in cold blood, watched as the life drained away from his eyes and I enjoyed every last gruesome moment of his suffering. I had to ask myself, was this what it was like? To be a murderer, to want want to kill again and again? I would have covered my face in shame and cried, hadn't my palms been slick with the blood of my assailant. I disgusted myself, trying to deny it all but could not. Before I could damn myself again the door burst open, spilling light into the darkened sleeping quarters that was now only a scene of murder. I heard a man cry out in surprise, rushing to my side though I tried to ignore him, instead staring at the downed men that laid before me.

"Child! Child, what has happened here?" He asked hurriedly. I finally looked up when I realized it was Tethtoril who spoke to me. He and Karan had entered, looking between me and the three bodies surrounding me.

"They...they killed Parda." I finally managed, barely a whisper at first. "And I...I'm a murderer, I killed him Tethtoril!" I shouted, pointing my blood stained hand at the dead man lying before me. Tethtoril quickly grabbed me by shoulders and forced me up from my knees. He wiped the blood away from my hands and my blade on his robes, quickly returning my sword to its scabbard.

"We had feared something like this would happen." He looked toward Karan for a moment and then back to me. "Quickly child, you must find your foster father and you need to leave this place immediately!" He explained in a rush as he directed me towards the front door while I remained silent. "Karan and I will take care of this. You must hurry child, go!"

I soon exited the building without much thought, barely moving at all as I was still numb with shock. However it was not long before I found myself running. Running my way back toward the central library where Gorion would be, waiting. Tethtoril was right, the sooner we left this place the better.

So I ran, with only one thought plaguing my mind: Why did they want to kill me?

~TBC

Secondary Note: Oh snap, looks like someones got some demons inside them. /pun