Notes:

Does Casavir have a last name? I don't recall one, but some of you people are amazing at the canon-aspect of NWN2, and I was just wondering. I'd rather not have to make one up.

You might have noticed this (maybe not) but I've decided to deliberately ignore the ramifications of not having a toilet or some other place to go to the bathroom. I'm squeamish and really don't want to write about icky things :)

As far as updates go, my life is completely swamped during the week and so… updates and writing on weekends! Yay!

III.

"Go fish?"

"For the last damnable time, elf, there are dozens of other games we could be playing!"

It was the second night. The others had already fallen back asleep and, once again, the duo of Sand and Ammon Jerro were forced to stay awake.

The barrier had been weakening as time passed, leaving the group with a definite sense of worriment over the course of the "day" (not that anyone knew what time it was outside, although Elanee was fairly certain they were on schedule with day and night). Zhjaeve had healed Grace's head long enough for another large chunk of rock to fall through the barrier and onto her head, inflicting another head wound and knocking her unconscious. Zhjaeve re-healed the wound. In a gesture of gallantry, Khelgar offered up his helmet and they put it on the unconscious knight captain's head.

Her floppy feathered hat was burned for warmth.

Other than that, the second day of their imprisonment had consisted of soft banter between the lot of them. Had they gotten trapped in a larger area, they would have clearly been able to split into two groups – the boys and Neeshka, and Casavir, Grobnar and the girls. Grace seemed to be the only one they all liked, and she was the one unconscious.

Qara hated them all with a firey, burning passion that she would make real if she could only cast spells. And so she sat, patiently biding her time and insulting them all in her mind. Oh, if only they knew how she'd burned all of them!

In time, Qara, in time… all you have to do is eat this gag and you can insult them all freely! And it will be glorious!

At this time, however, she was watching the only two people awake – Sand and Jerro – play cards. Well…

She tried to say something, but it came out muffled. Sand turned and gave her the most disparaging look she'd received since the last look Sand gave her before he reached up and hit her on the back of the head. She winced with the pain before rolling her eyes.

"Do you have any fives?" Sand asked the warlock pleasantly.

"Grrrr… no. I don't."

"Then what do you saaaaay?"

"… (sigh) Go Fish."

Sand took a card.

"Do you have any eights?"

Does your mom have any eights? Qara thought. Oh, burn! Wait… Fucking ranger!

"What are you two talking about?" Elanee asked. The poor druidess was the first to begin to show signs of suffering from the claustrophobia. She had slept fine the first night, but all day she had been fidgety and couldn't seem to fall asleep again.

"Oh, we're playing Go Fish," Sand replied jovially, "Would you like to play?"

"No you're not," Elanee replied sweetly.

"What are you talking about?" the warlock demanded gruffly.

"You're not playing cards."

"What do you mean?" Sand looked concerned.

"You're not holding any cards. Why would you have brought a deck of cards to fight the King of Shadows?"

"That does seem very uncharacteristic of you," Sand pointed out to Ammon.

"You brought the cards, not me."

Sand looked concerned again. "No I didn't, you did. Remember, you carried them in your magnificent top-hat."

"Oh, right, right," Ammon Jerro said in agreement.

"You… uh… you're not wearing a hat, Ammon," Elanee pointed out.

"Oh, no! The druid has gone blind!" Sand said, concern in his voice.

"Okay, look. The two of you must be sleep-deprived, that's all," Elanee said soothingly. "You must be hallucinating the deck of cards… and, um… the hat."

"But I have three fives! And my hat is absolutely glorious!" Ammon protested, holding up his 'cards' so Elanee could see them.

"You bastard, you're not supposed to lie at Go Fish!" Sand interrupted.

"You're holding up air."

"No no no! Clearly you are hallucinating!" Sand snapped at her, losing patience, "He is clearly holding up three fives, the likes of which he said he didn't have!"

"I lied, wizard. Get over it."

"Grace!" Sand stretched his legs and kicked the sleeping paladin. "Wake up, you have to settle this dispute!" He turned to look at the warlock. "And she's a paladin, so she'll side with me."

"Are you telling on me?"

"No," the wizard said in a tone that clearly said, "Yes."

Grace's dark blue eyes opened. She got adjusted to the fact that she was wearing a helmet before she smiled at Sand broadly. "Wait! My numerous head-wounds did something to me!"

"What?" Sand didn't look like he cared. Neither did Ammon. Elanee did.

"I am going to ask you a question," the aasimar paladin said brightly.

"And I hope to be able to provide the answer."

"How are you doing?"

Silence fell between the four.

"That… that had nothing to do with Luskan," Sand breathed, "the trial, or my shop!"

"I'm cured!" she exclaimed, quietly enough to convey her happiness but not loud enough to wake the others. "Two giant chunks of rock later and I have finally escaped the conversation loops!" The other three applauded her. "I can't wait until Khelgar wakes up so that I can ask him something other than who he is! Anyhow," she calmed herself, "what seems to be the problem?"

"We're playing Go Fish," Sand began. Jerro rolled his eyes. "And the warlock here indicated he had no fives, when he did, in fact, have three of them!"

"Um, well… Ammon, you're not supposed to lie at Go Fish. Give him the fives."

"Oh, all right," the warlock grumbled, handing the wizard the fives.

"Thank you kindly," the wizard crooned, putting down his four Fives in a grandiose gesture.

"Now, do you two realize you aren't holding any cards?"

The two looked at each other. "She's hallucinating too," Ammon said.

"They're rather obstinately refusing to realize that they are hallucinating from lack of sleep," Elanee informed her. "But at least they're not threatening to eat Grobnar, like Khelgar was."

"But last I was awake we still had rations…"

"Oh, we did. It's just that Khelgar was refusing to eat them for some reason. Says he has a craving for 'roasted gnome, over a roaring fire'. He may be hallucinating too."

"Lack of oxygen, closed-in space… Wait, Elanee, when you said the word 'did'…"

"We are officially out of rations as of dinnertime," she reported.

"But I was unconscious all the time so I didn't get to eat anything!"

"So you'll starve first," Sand pointed out with a shrug. "Most likely the rest of us will eat you. You'll nobly sacrifice yourself for the greater good, just like all paladins should."

"Always a charmer, Sand."

"I try."

"Well, boys, why don't you put the cards away," Grace said soothingly, deciding to force herself to ignore her impending doom, "and we can try to keep your minds occupied with something less… insane."

"But I'm winning," Sand whined.

"Sand…"

"Oh, all right. I would have probably already won if Cheaty McCheaterstein here wasn't cheating."

"What did you call me? And I was winning."

"Your mom was… damn it, Bishop!" Sand roared.

"And it's catching on," Bishop mumbled in his sleep, a slight curve on his lips.

"Neither of you were winning, because there were no cards," Elanee reminded them.

"You should do something about those hallucinations, druid," Ammon commented.

"… … yes, I'll get right on that," Elanee said patronizingly.

"Can't sleep, Khelgar will eat me," Grobnar mumbled aloud, dreaming.

"… that would've been funny if it weren't true," Elanee said sadly, listening to Grobnar's dream ramblings.

"Will one of you wake him up?" Grace asked sweetly, "His nightmare's breaking my heart."

"But I don't want to," Sand whined.

"He's really annoying," Ammon agreed. "He can never just say a sentence, everything has to be a tangent."

"Reminds me of someone I know," Sand said, pointedly looking at Ammon.

"Yourself?"

"Your mom!"

"You know, Sand," Grace began, "encouraging Bishop will give him the leverage to out you as the most arrogant one of our group."

Sand looked a little concerned, "But I value that title! Granted, it's well-deserved because I am the best one of our group, but you're right, we can't encourage the ranger."

"Actually, we can," Ammon pointed out, "because the moment we get out of here I'm setting his betraying ass on fire."

"No, no, no," Grace said brightly, "I have a much better idea. And besides, you use fire and you're giving Qara too much satisfaction. And I know how much both of you loathe Qara."

"She's very loathable," Sand said, his voice carrying anger as he looked at the sorceress in question. She glared right back.

Elanee reached over Zhjaeve and Ammon to tap Grobnar. "Grobnar, dear, you're having a nightmare, you need to wake up."

The gnome's eyes popped open. "Oh dear, I had this dream that I was trapping in a room full of Khelgars and they were all drooly and bloodthirsty-like…"

"That's one step away from reality," Ammon said, rolling his eyes at the gnome's being awake.

"Grace!" Grobnar exclaimed, "You're awake! And not bleeding!"

"And able to speak!" she said cheerfully.

"But where is your nice knight cloak, the one that was yellow and made you more likeable?"

Grace looked around. Someone had taken off her armor during one of her bouts with unconsciousness and placed it in the center of the group with the others'. Her knight cloak was, as Grobnar had said, mysteriously missing. "Oh. I guess it fell off somewhere. Maybe someone will find it, know we're here and look for us?"

Neverwinter Castle:

"So she's dead?" Lord Nasher asked solemnly, holding the torn knight cloak in his hands.

"It seems so, Sir." Sir Nevalle looked genuinely depressed. "We found the cloak while searching the ruins of the Meredelain. There were no bodies to be found."

"I see."

"Maybe, Sir, we should-"

"No. They're clearly all dead. Pity, I'm sure. Send a message to Crossroad Keep about this, and we'll give it a couple weeks before we start excavating the Mere. In the meantime, we can throw the city a 'Hey, we won!' party."

"Sounds like a good idea, Sir."

"I'll bring the punch."

The Mere of Dead Men:

"I'm sure that's exactly what's going to happen!" Grobnar said enthusiastically.

"I can't sleep," Neeshka whined, deciding not to try anymore, "I mean, I haven't done anything but insult people all day, but that's hardly good exercise. Hi Qara, how are you?"

Qara said something back that was easily translatable into "Bite me." Neeshka stuck her tongue out at her.

Sand hit her on the back of the head. "Neeshka, Neeshka, honestly, if Qara gets uppity, just ask me to hit her. It's much more satisfying than just sticking your tongue out at her – after all, that doesn't cause her physical pain."

"Point." Neeshka stretched out her long legs at an angle that put them between Grobnar and Sand. "So, kids, what's for dinner?"

"You already ate dinner," Elanee reminded her.

"Oh, right. So what's for dessert?"

"Nothing. We're out of rations."

Neeshka's eyes went wide. "Seriously? But… but… what are we going to eat?"

"Delicious gnome, roasted in garlic," Khelgar grumbled in his sleep.

"You're not going to let him eat me, are you?" Grobnar asked, huddling into himself a little bit.

"I love garlic," Ammon muttered.

Grace sighed, holding out her arms. "Come on over here, Grobnar. I won't let anyone eat you."

"Do you really mean that? Because I can't handle the threat of being caved-in, the threat of starvation, the threat of lack of oxygen and the threat of ravenous dwarf!"

Grace nodded. "Yes, I mean it." She always thought the gnome was funny. She might have been the only one.

Grobnar: Gained Influence 4

"Yes!" she exclaimed.

Grobnar crossed the room and planted himself between Casavir and Grace, which would have made the former paladin move closer to Bishop – so, because he was repelled by the idea, Casavir picked Grobnar up and placed him between himself and Bishop.

"Since when have you been awake?" Grace inquired of her knight.

"It's hard to sleep when you have spent the entire day doing nothing. Most of us have not had the liberty of having rocks fall on our heads to help us 'sleep.'"

"Fair enough."

"I'm not entirely sure how safe I feel sitting here," Grobnar began, "After all, it's highly likely that when Casavir decides to kill Bishop I'll get caught in the middle…"

"I could take him," Bishop asserted. It was becoming apparent that everyone was trying sleep but failing.

"You could not," everyone replied in essence. Neeshka had just snorted and Sand went into the logistics of the paladin and the ranger in a duel and how the paladin would wipe the floor with the aforementioned ranger. For the string of insults Bishop had just one answer:

"Your mom would lose in a fight to a paladin."

Sand tried to stand up in anger but ended up hitting his head on his own barrier. Bishop laughed at him. Well, Bishop, being Bishop, just chuckled.

"So, Grace," Neeshka spoke up, deciding to help Sand out with the burning of Bishop, "why did you choose Casavir over Bishop?"

Grace froze.

"Awkward!" Grobnar sang.