We continue to take a break from FFFFs because I want to line up a big progression of them XD
"Elminster this, Elminster that, do you ever shut up? Give me two thousand years and a pointy hat and I'd kick his arse!"
"He's only one thousand one hundred and fifty six!" Imoen protested with a giggle. "Maybe I should take that bet..."
Edwin gaped at her. "How... How do you...? Can you even hear yourself, child, prattling on and on with these details like some lovesick puppy?"
"What? He was born in two hundred and twelve; it's now thirteen hundred and and sixty eight, it's just basic math! Besides, you know I can memorize anything. Hey, did you know that El-"
"Shut up! Shut up! You have not shut up for the past five minutes! Listening to this could drive a man to madness!"
"Well at least I'm not complaining, and whining about how awesome I am and how horrible someone else is, like some insecure little rich boy's son with no money for spells in my pockets!"
"You- you- you are so... irritating!" he snarled. "I have gold! I do not need your charity waif, and I think you should get over this amusing but stupid little obsession with... with... where has the aggravating little monkey gone to now?" Edwin looked around himself, surprised to find that Imoen was nowhere in sight.
"She must have finally gotten bored of your voice," Xan muttered. "Took her long enough. Seldarine knows we all did a long time ago."
"You are all ungrateful sheep," the Thayvian muttered. "(And one day I shall toss whale oil over your wool and light up a match. Poof.)"
The rest of the group was discussing exactly who ought to go where and do what. Dynaheir reminded Aegis that they had Basillius's symbol to bring to the Song of the Morning Temple, a task which she had nearly forgotten about.
Xzar had managed to relax with a bit of dedicated coaxing, though he was still holding an armful of plucked daisies. He wanted to introduce Aegis to Kagain, but then afterward he too suggested that some people needed to help tidy Xan's hair.
Garrick and Xan wanted to join Branwen and Ajantis to tell the war cleric about the possibility that Tranzig might be under cover at the Red Sheaf. Aegis wasn't sure she wanted everyone all spread out if they were about to confront a bandit contact.
Edwin, after carefully scrutinizing his surroundings, was quite sure Imoen had disappeared. He wondered how long it would take his mentally handicapped band of chimpanzees to realize it. Xan certainly didn't seem to think she'd gone anywhere further than a few feet away, and his attention was focused elsewhere.
He tried to decide if he was concerned, or irritated that she'd left him there mid-sentence. After a moment, he realized his familiar would alert him if there was a serious problem; so he settled for being bitter.
Imoen managed to catch sight of the her mark leaving an alleyway as he strolled at a loping pace down the street. There seemed to be something on his mind that was distracting him, and she could see that he was at least temporarily alone. Perhaps there was some errand he had forgotten to run prior to leaving the city. She ghosted after him with the maximum application of her ability, patting the bat on her shoulder as she moved.
Perhaps intrigued by her intentions, the fiendish little monster behaved himself.
She stole through the crowd, keeping her head low as she ducked and wove. He was quick, she realized with a surprised furrow of her brow. And somehow she kept losing track of him, despite the color of his clothing. She wondered if the man might have some enchantment about himself that turned aside wandering gazes. Surely that must have made it easier for him to travel through any part of the world that pleased him without being swamped by curious children or tracked by unsavory eyes.
The hat! It was easier to keep track of the hat than anything else, and that was all for the better; because it was the hat she was after.
His movement patterns didn't shift, but she felt the change almost instinctively. Perhaps it was the way the commoners suddenly seemed to stop walking directly in her path, or the food cart which pulled out in front of her, and which she was forced to quickly duck around lest she lose sight of her quarry. She was getting better at following now; at seeing through whatever vague illusion or suggestion he was emitting. Such subtle magic...
When he turned down an alleyway she bolted after him, muttering words in draconic under her breath. The bat squeaked in surprise. Rounding the corner, Imoen found the alleyway to be an empty dead end, but this hardly stopped her. Assuming the man was not so silly as to waste his highest level abilities on her, and that a dimension door would have left a visible portal behind even if just for a moment, the easiest spell for him was invisibility.
"Viiz do krein nos!" she hissed, and brilliant golden dust rippled about her in a burst. The bat shrieked in warning almost concurrently with the instant Imoen felt the danger coming up behind her. She leaped to the side as a red orb crashed into the ground behind her, but another one followed immediately after! She swayed to her left, to the other right, but more came! She jumped, rebounded off the alleyway with a foot and then-
"Oh, poopy face!" the thief shouted as the upteenth red globe encased her, trapping her against the ground. A staff scraped against stone and then the butt settled down against the cobbles only a foot from her face. Imoen lifted her head up to see the Chosen of Mystra standing there, irritably looking at his shoulder as he brushed glitterdust off of himself. He glanced at her and gave a flick of his hand. The red orb hoisted her weightlessly off the ground, and her hair floated slightly up about her face.
"You are not a mage," Elminster noted curiously.
"Nope!" the thief giggled, waggling her arms in the air for balance. This was sort of neat, actually.
"Yet you used no wand or scroll," he concluded, his brows furrowing.
"Nadda!" she agreed, spinning her arms in circles and slowly rotating in midair until she was upside down and facing him.
"Well come now, do not leave me to this mystery," he told her. "Who has been tutoring you in magic?"
"No one!" she laughed, enjoying her new vantage point.
"Ask any monk at Candlkeep about Imoen the Pink, and they shall inform you she has no head for the art of magic, as she possesses neither the patience nor the interest. Are there signs of her being half kender? Most certainly. But of magical aptitude? No, none."
"Well, let me ask you a question," Imoen drawled. "Do you think I had less patience for magic, or less patience for smelly old monks who tried to tell me when I had to study and when I could go out and play?"
Elminster propped up his hat with his staff, looking her over with curiosity and perhaps a bit of mischievous sympathy. "Glitterdust is no mere cantrip," he told her, amused. "It is not even a common spell this far to the northeast."
"I'm self taught! That's why I can read draconic easy but can't cast for beans. But, hey, I got the spell out! And in leather, too, that's lucky dontcha think?" she winked. "Actually I'm surprised it worked! I've never cast it before; but since I figured you would try to give me the slip... Had to try it!"
The archmagi lifted a brow. "You managed to catch me through use of a spell you have only ever transcribed and never cast?" he asked, as such a thing should not have been readily possible. "I'm afraid I find that terribly unlikely, given that you must have prepared it just this very morning, and as you did not yet know about me you had no reason to believe you would even need such a conjuration."
"Ha! Shows what you know! I never transcribed it at all! I don't even have a spellbook!" she told him smugly.
"You prepared it from another wizard's spellbook and cast it without ever practicing?" he asked dryly, amused by the tale she was weaving.
"Well technically I learned it from another wizard's spellbook, but I just 'prepared' it from memory while you were walking away, so nyah!"
"I see," he grinned. "Well if you are not inclined to give me a straight answer, what is to stop me from casting a sleep spell on you and turning your hair a ghastly shade of green for spinning me such a yarn?"
Imoen frowned. "You don't believe me?" she pouted. "You know, I had this exact conversation with Edwin, and he didn't believe me either. He had me memorize a cantrip and cast it off the cuff to prove it, and then he got really polite, which is unusual for Edwin. He said it's hard to keep... to keep a spell unwound in your head. Is that true? I've always remembered everything I've understood..."
The archmagi's brows moved together, and his smile dimmed to a curious expression. "Where and when did you learn this Glitterdust spell, Imoen?"
"Edwin let me look at his spellbook a few days ago. I'd glimpsed the spell before, but I didn't remember it because I'd been looking for something else entirely. Then all the sigils started making sense and standing out in my mind, and I could see how they twisted to form the spell. Like any spell, like my little light spell. And then I just... remembered it?"
He blinked in surprise. "The Thayvian voluntarily loaned you his spellbook?" This story seemed suspect.
Imoen shrugged and smiled innocently. "It's kinda a long story. Technically speaking, I am pretty sure I am the closest thing Edwin has to a friend. In the world. I get the impression Thayvian nobles and other Red Wizards are just as unfriendly as he is, or worse; although I suppose you would know better than I do because you've traveled, and I lived in a library. He's not so bad, though; I like him right well enough!"
"And you just... remembered it," Elminster repeated, eyes now glowing with curiosity.
"Remembering stuff is easy once you understand it! Tethtoril taught me that about stories once: that you don't memorize the flourishes, you memorize the point, and the flourishes come naturally. Say! Do you think you could put me down?"
Elminster considered her for a very long moment. Then he waved, and the red orb set her down and dissipated. Imoen unsteadily regained her feet and petted the bat to calm it down. "Tell me, young one... why did you follow me?" the archmagi asked her after a moment, wearing a slowly expanding, laughing smirk.
"I am on a quest!" Imoen announced, looking up at him and putting her hands cutely behind her back.
"Oh, is that so?" he asked, placing a hand on his hip and favoring her with a bemused smile. "Tell me: Of what nature is this quest?"
"I am going to steal your hat before the day is out," she foresaw.
He looked doubtfulfully up at the brim and then back at her. "Ah? I hate to discourage one of such youthful exuberance, but greater than thee have tried and failed."
"Ahhh, but you seee," she drawled, hopping up to him. "The day is far from over, and you have not yet eluded me! Mark my words, Chosen, this day I shall make off with that hat! But not the pipe, I'm reasonable. You'll see!"
"And if I teleport away now?" the magi asked her grin in his eyes.
She lifted a hand and tapped his nose. Tapped his nose! What a devil child. "I don't think you will," the thief told him slyly.
He tilted his head to the side. "What evidence have you to support this claim?"
"I am not yet a small rodent, and you are still looking at me like I'm the most delightful little monster you've seen all decade," she told him mischievously.
The old man regarded her for a long moment before chuckling to himself and gesturing with his staff. "Walk with me, Candlekeep girl. I am curious to learn how an entire monastery of men devoted to the arts of magic managed to miss the budding Loremaster growing right under their noses."
"Loremaster?" she asked incredulously, skipping after him. "Pfft It came in jester form. They have no sense of humor. Oghma punished them for this by having it steal their wands, spellbooks, pocket money, and everyone's left shoe..."
"That may explain Ulraunt throwing a celebratory dinner commemorating your absence," the archmagi winked.
"That old stinker, he's horrible! Did he really? Liar! Say, I have a bet going with Aegis. Do you pick what age you appear? Because honestly if I were going to randomly end up living forever, I would expect to look like twenty or thirty. Maybe that's a naive assumption, but why would you randomly stop aging at the rear end of the curve instead of the middle?"
The wizard lifted a brow, and then took on a shape that might have been a bit more familiar to the little bookworm, with a much shorter beard streaked in brown, and a much less wizened face. Her face lit up and she grinned. Then, because that expression was adorable, he rapidly took on several different shapes, from young and elfin, to an old, female, hobgoblin crone.
Imoen bounced and clapped delightedly, and then grabbed his arm and attached herself to it. "I knew it! I knew it! That's so cool, I wish I could do that! And you wonder why I didn't recognize you, pah! Come on, let's go get an orange juice or a water or something, it's hot out here! I will trade you question for question!"
The wizard heaved a heavy sigh, but let himself be tugged along. Truth be told, he was suppressing a grin.
When the fireball came out of the room, they realized Tranzig had anticipated them. Branwen had just enough time time to shove Xan back out of range, and then the whole party was crying out in surprise as waves of fire cascaded over them. Except Edwin. Unfazed by the flames, he was simply glad the party was too distracted to notice how he absolutely and utterly botched his first dispel attempt.
Weave for me, please Mystra, I beg you... he found himself praying, which was something he never did and which made him angry, as he summoned up his second- and last remaining!- dispel an instant later. He could hear the chanting from within as Tranzig began the incantation for Hold Person.
If he had been feeling himself, Edwin would have tried to hold off his spell to loose it at the same time as the Hold Person, ensuring it would dispel not only the fool's magical protections but also any party paralysis. Alas, he did not have that kind of control at the moment. He was already nearly giddy that his magic had started forming correctly.
Branwen shoved forward through the flames to enter the room, a spire of white light bursting around her as she called ferocious onto her god for aid.
And that was the way they ended up 'accidentally' killing the spellcaster.
"I... ... I didn't mean ta..." Branwen stammered. "He was still protected magically and I thoug-"
"Edwin managed the dispel just as you came down on him," Dynaheir sighed. "It wasn't your fault. Or his actually."
"Truthfully it was an accident," Ajantis agreed. "Perhaps we need not rely so heavily on magic next time. Clearly it is unreliable for these sorts of tasks."
"Excuse me, where did we get this shiny-assed baboon?" Edwin asked Aegis moodily. His ecstasy over throwing out the dispel successfully had been sullied by Branwen putting her malus through the man's rib cage moments later. The ranger gave him a sympathetic look, suggesting she appreciated his quick action regardless of the unintended outcome.
"You were busy wenching," she admitted, and then looked intrigued back down at the body. "Life is so fragile sometimes... Death, so easy..."
"Are you a poet now? I'm surrounded by fools," he muttered.
"Well, got tae admit, this were unsatisfying,'" Branwen sighed down at where Viconia and Xzar were rapidly trying to resuscitate the man. Branwen had been a little too surprised to help on the onset, but now she noticed Xzar had been rather thoroughly crisped. Seeing as she wasn't sure how the two hoped to get Tranzig revived without resurrection magic, she leaned over to apply some of her healing to the necromancer.
Xzar didn't immediately thank her, mutering a 'now' to Viconia, who swiftly applied as much healing energy as she could muster. The necromancer cast something simultaneously and thrusted down with both palms on the bandit's chest.
In that moment, Aegis felt an almost butterfly-like sensation in her chest, as if she could physically sense the life they were hauling back of the precipice. It was strange to watch death go in reverse.
Then Tranzig jerked violently, his mouth opening as he struggled for breath and spit out blood.
"What the- How the devil did ye do that?" Branwen wondered, fascinated. "Hold up, I've got your backs!" She knelt and quickly to offer her help in healing the bandit to full health.
"Praise be Helm for a miracle; the mission isn't lost then!"
Xzar and Viconia gave one another tolerant looks, as both individuals considered how little Helm or miracles had anything to do with their hard work.
Tranzig writhed, clawing feebly at the ground, but Branwen and Viconia dug his ribs out of his lung and managed to stabilize him.
"Grab his hands, fools!" Edwin hissed, stepping forward. "Keep from gesturing! There's precious little of significance a mage can cast without his fingers!"
Dynaheir darted forward to pin down one arm, and Xzar pinned down the other. Xan began chanting the words to a charm spell.
The party gathered around, some of them still splattered in blood and most of them singed, as Xzar and Dynaheir pulled the injured bandit mage up to his feet and then helped him onto a chair. He clutched his rib cage painfully, wincing up at all of them.
"Well, I'm impressed," Aegis told her mages and clerics. "I'll buy that Xzar knows something or another about freshly dead persons. But Viconia, how the hell did you know how to revive him?"
"I have kept too many slaves on the brink of death not to understand where it lies," Viconia answered. Ajantis paused for a moment and then looked at her curiously, uncertain if he'd heard correctly or if that was supposed to be some kind of joke. "In truth, I have never executed a rescue of quite this magnitude. It seems you are not useless in every respect, madman. Perhaps we should compare... notes on the subject."
"Everyone," Xan ordered. "Be quiet for now, and do not threaten him."
Tranzig winced. "Are you going to kill me when I've told you what I know?"
Xan turned to him. "That depends how helpful you are."
"I'm charmed," he answered, which surprised Xan, as usually it was quite impossible for his targets to come to this conclusion. "I will be very helpful. But are you going to kill me?"
Xan frowned. "I am going to apply a stronger enchantment. But while I do so..." He glanced to Aegis.
"Well," The ranger hesitated, watching the bandit with wide and curious eyes, "we did just go through a hell of a lot of work to un-kill him. Is there any way we can think of to keep him alive?"
"We can hand him over to the Fist," Dynaheir offered. "But we don't have the time or resources to keep him as a personal prisoner. His magic makes him a dangerous adversary, and we can't afford him getting loose."
"The Fist? Come now, foolish Wychlaran, don't be naive," Edwin told her. "He is no mere thug. The Fist would interrogate and then execute him, much as we should. Aegis, if you keep this fool alive out of pity, my opinion of the group will drop through the floor."
"We cannot execute a prisoner!" Ajantis protested. "He is helpless, and we are not the law such as to decide such things!"
"I don't want to die," the bandit pleaded.
"No one wants to die," Edwin answered. "If a person wants to die, then they should make quick work of it, to relieve us of their moping."
"I have no god," the mage begged them, looking up at Aegis because she was the leader of the group, and at Ajantis because he was a paladin.
"Best ask one to take pity on you now," the Thayvian laughed. "Who would you like: Tempus, Helm, Oghma, or Shar? I'm sure someone here would be happy to initiate you."
"Aegis, I implore you... You are not going to execute this man, are you?" Ajantis pleaded in a reproachful voice.
"You were a Bhaalite, then," the ranger said quietly, earning her a glance from a few group mates, a surprise look from Ajantis, and a slow, long stare from Xzar. "Your god is death. Don't worry about it. You'll be fine."
Then Xan's second layer of enchantment fell over him.
"The camp is in the Woods of Sharp Teeth," Tranzig was explaining. "But it moves, and frequently. Often it shifts out into Larswold or Peldvale, or father back into the reaches of the forest. I haven't been there for months and my communications are done with magic. If you want to find the exact location, you will have to find someone who has been there more recently and can take you there."
"I am not sure I approve of this... 'compulsion magic,'" Ajantis said slowly, unnerved by how compliant their captive was being. "It has the scent of something... almost evil about it..."
Xan's left eye twitched. Her turned slowly towards the paladin with a sneer on his face. "Yes, Sir. Black-and-White? Is there something you would like to say to me?"
"No. Well... It is just that this seems highly-"
"'Tch leave him be," Branwen told the paladin dismissively. "Enchantment is a noble school of magic, and our dear friend is very careful in applying its use. Besides, the faster we find the camp, the faster we can keep the bandits from waylaying caravans, isn't that right?"
"Well... I will defer to your judgement on the matter, Miss Branwen. You have been with the group longer than I."
Xan lifted a brow at her. Branwen winked at him. The elf almost-smirked and then turned to Tranzig to question him about the camp composition.
Tranzig explained the situation, describing the different antagonistic bandit groups that had been united together under one banner: Black Talon Mercenaries, Chill Hobgoblins, Gnolls; and an impressive list of cut-throats recruited from Luskan to Calimshan.
"Who is leading this front?" Xan asked. "Tazok? Tell us about him."
"Tazok, aye," Tranzig agreed. "An unusually clever half-ogre. Has friends in high places, I think, and a powerful wizard either on call or policing him. He won't be an easy target to down. He can split a man in half from forehead to groin with a single blow of his greatsword, or tear off heads with his flail; and he's agile on his feet to boot. You best hope you don't have to face him. He's often away to supervise other operations."
"What other operations?" Aegis asked.
Tranzig shrugged. "I am a Black Talon. I am in service; I'm not near the top."
"Can you think of anything else that might help us?" Xan prompted. Tranzig considered the prompt. Then he nodded.
"There's this ranger," he said. "An elf out of Shillmista is what I've heard at the bars. He showed up some time ago on the coast and set to killing the Chill like it was a hobby. It was sort of annoying, I'm told, but he clearly had his swath of territory and if the hobgoblins had just left him alone he probably wouldn't have bothered anyone further. The stupid gobbos just kept sending in troops to deal with him, though, and then complained each time he left them pin-cushioned."
The party glanced around at itself, wondering if this was the same ranger they had heard about from the barkeep.
"Anyway, about half a month ago, the Chill was complaining so loud to Tazok that he forced us to collaborate and send some of our boys to set up a trap for this ranger. Supposedly, from the reports I was getting from the mages, they almost had him. I'm not entirely sure went wrong; but I think he had the ambush site trapped. Anyway, he slaughter our entire unit. And he must have kept alive at least one of our men for questioning because someone leaked him a name and he came back with a vengeance. He crossed the road and he's been pushing into our territory like a man possessed. The few fools he's let loose have come back to us poked full of arrows saying he's after Tazok and won't stop till the half-ogre's delivered to him.
"I don't know who this elf is, but he's gone from a thorn in our sides to a right nuisance. He might even know where the bandit camp is; and even if he doesn't, he's been skirting around the Woods of Sharp Teeth long enough now to know the paths and streams and such. If you're sure about hitting the camp, then the ranger might be a way to get there."
"That is... very thoughtful of you to suggest to us," Aegis told him slowly. "Is that all?"
Tranzig thought hard, trying to stall for time with any other information. He had none. Then he nodded. "Yeah. That's all." He looked at Branwen. "You got me back good, didn't you Norheimer? I should have killed you properly."
Branwen crossed her arms over her chest. "What ye were doing was wrong. I can support raiding armed men and fighting wars, but you were attacking defenseless people. There's no honor in that."
"Never had a use for honor," the mage answered.
"Well, the moment of truth has arrived," Edwin muttered. "Has our leader decided yet on the bandit's fate? Is she a bleeding-hearted fool or a realistic one?"
"Give him a dagger," Aegis told Xzar.
"You are arming him?" Edwin asked. "Are we going to do this the paladin way and let him pretend he has a chance of fighting his way out, so we can feel good about killing him when he resists?"
Xzar obeyed Aegis unhesitatingly, drawing his dagger and extending it to the other mage. Tranzig hesitated, taking it from Xzar's hand and looking up at her uncertainly.
"You can do anything with that you want. I am going to go downstairs," Aegis explained, "and I am going to tell the Flaming Fist who you are. If you attack the rest of the party or try to flee, they are going to kill you. If you survive until the Flaming Fist arrives, you are going to be arrested. I honestly don't know what will happen to you; you could be executed, interrogated, or simply jailed. Alternatively, you can turn the dagger on yourself. Xan, release the charm."
The enchanter looked at her, perplexed. Then he nodded, murmuring in draconic.
The bandit blinked rapidly, stumbling backwards and then hesitating. He looked at the dagger and then fearfully at Aegis. "I-... I don't-" Suddenly he almost seemed to relax, his eyes glazing a little as he stared at her. So close to the moment of his death, and so close to Death, he could recognize Her. Then he took a quick breath, and before anyone could react, he brought the blade across his own throat. Aegis winced as he dropped to his knees and then his body hit the floor.
"Well," Edwin muttered. "It was unnecessarily complex and ignored that the man might have a wand, ring, or other contingency plan that could have harmed all of us. But I think I am reasonably satisfied. Of course, I would have taken you fools with me in his shoes."
"I would have accepted arrest and tried to live, like any sane person," Xan muttered.
"It was a little cowardly of him to off himself, but at least he faced reality," Branwen muttered. "He could have never beaten us in honorable combat."
"It was noble," Ajantis disagreed. "Admitting defeat and surrendering to the righteous instead of clawing tooth and nail to drag them down with him."
"Stop talking about it," Aegis muttered. "He's dead no matter what it was. Dead's dead. If you're going to do anything, take a moment of silence to respect the loss of life."
"Since he was our prisoner, lets at least do him the courtesy of burning him," Dynaheir hazarded, and Aegis nodded.
"Garrick?" the ranger tapped their bard on the shoulder. "Come with me; we need to tell the innkeep what the resolution of this was, and warn him we'll be carting a body through. Nab his Black Talon symbol so we can prove we didn't just murder some innocent person."
Xzar watched her go quietly.
In canon, there are at least a hundred years between when Viconia's house, the DeVir house, falls (Ironically destroyed by the Do'Urden family as a result of Viconia causing them to lose Lolth's favor) and the starts of the Baldur's Gate game.
Viconia doesn't necessarily tell you about it, but she's been alone for a long time. Long enough to have done a lot of things. Long enough to have gone psychotic in a way wholly individual to her ;) I like to think she spent her time underground trying to get along with the 'lesser' races until a witch hunt pushed her to the surface.
As for Imoen, doesn't one of her epilogues involve her going off to adventure with Elminster and Khelben and so forth? Heheheh! Well, clearly here is the start of that friendship XD.