Chapter 48: Sticks and Stones
Imoen stretched her legs and yawned. She was sitting with Edwin and Kivan on a low bench at the edge of the halflings' practice field. Kivan was making adjustments to his bow, while Edwin alternated between grumbling and leafing through his spellbook in search of spells he wanted to knock into Imoen's simian brain, as he'd put it. It was a mild, sunny day, and the trees were changing into very pretty colours.
Imoen glanced towards the center of the field, where Ember was sparring with Jaheira for the third day running. Right now, the two druids were trying to knock each other to the ground with their staves. From the distance, it looked a bit like a silly dance with a lot of jumping and leaping around, but it looked like they were jumping and leaping quite a bit faster today than when they'd first started. "Ember's getting better, isn't she?" Imoen said.
Kivan looked up. "Aye, but she is still holding back," he said. "She is not comfortable with the weapon yet."
"I can't really blame her for taking her time. Not with what's going on," Imoen said.
"What is going on?" Edwin asked with sudden interest.
"Um, you know. Stuff!" Imoen said lightly. She was not about to tell Edwin that Ember had seen a flaw in herself when she meditated; Ember had told Imoen and Kivan about that in private, and besides, Edwin would probably not understand at all. He'd probably be intrigued instead of worried, and he'd probably just try to push Ember into investigating the flaw some more. As far as Imoen was concerned, that was the last thing her friend needed right now.
"Stuff," Edwin repeated, fixing Imoen with a stony gaze.
"Yep, stuff. With not wanting the bloodlust to return, and all that."
"Ah, yes. That stuff," Edwin said. "(Keeping secrets, I am sure. How am I supposed to work under these conditions!)" he muttered, and buried his nose in his spellbook again.
"Hey, Eddie, what are you looking at?" Imoen asked in an attempt to change the subject.
"Stuff."
With a deep and somewhat exaggerated sigh, Imoen returned her attention to the practice field. Ember and Jaheira were no longer sparring, and a dozen or so young halflings had joined them. Alora was there too, talking animatedly with Jaheira. Imoen wondered what they were talking about.
"It appears they have convinced Ember to try to learn how to use slings," Kivan remarked. Some of the halflings were straightening the targets at the end of the field. One of the halflings handed Ember what looked like a long, thin strap, and another gave her a handful of pebbles. Jaheira pulled a similar strap from her belt.
This should be interesting! "I want to see this! Come on, Eddie!" Imoen exclaimed, pulling Edwin's sleeve. The wizard reluctantly followed her, and Kivan trailed behind them.
"A sling is a simple weapon," the elf said as they drew closer to the practice range, "but it can be devastating in skilled hands. I hope Ember takes to it."
"Me too," Imoen said. Ember would probably be better off, in more than one way, if she knew how to defend herself without having to get into close range combat.
Alora ran towards them from across the field. "Hey there hi there!" she exclaimed. "Bubbling badgers, isn't this fun?"
Edwin snorted derisively.
"Why do you have to be such a grumpypuss? Cheer up!" Alora said to Edwin. "Ooh, I know! Why don't you to learn how to use slings, too? It'll be great, I promise!"
"Do I look like I wish to wield such inferior projectiles?" Edwin asked. "(Why can't she just go away?)"
"I don't see the harm in having something else you can use besides the spells," Imoen said.
"You forget that I had something else until you insisted I give your friend my staff!" Edwin all but yelled.
Before Imoen could gather her wits enough to remind Edwin that the staff was Ember's in the first place and that she needed it more now and that he was being a selfish oaf who was no better than any so-called barbarian they'd met on the road, Kivan spoke up. "You should try the sling," he said in a low voice.
Edwin glared furiously at Kivan and Imoen, but didn't say anything. He turned huffily and stomped off towards the practice field.
"Poor Eddie! He doesn't know how to loosen up," Alora said. For a moment, she almost looked a bit troubled, but then she grinned broadly. "Help him, we will!" she exclaimed, and skipped after the wizard.
With a groan, Imoen rested her forehead against the trunk of a nearby oak. "He's such a mopey beetlebrain!" she told the tree. Edwin'd never been what she'd call cheerful, but his mood had been worse than ever since they left Baldur's Gate. He hated the forests, despised the halflings - insipid miniature simians, as he called them - and spent hours looking at the same pages of his spellbook over and over again. His grumpiness was starting to get on her nerves, but in a way, she could understand him; there wasn't really anything for a mage to do here.
They weren't too far away from Beregost, she mused; a trip there might help cheer him up. They could pick up more magical items from Thalantyr or from the smaller shop in the town itself, and maybe they could find some interesting stuff at the blacksmith. It'd be fun! Imoen chuckled softly and admitted to herself that she, too, would like to get a break from the quiet forest village.
-.-.-
Ember fumbled a bit with her sling, trying to wrap the weapon's long cords around her hand as casually as the halflings did. One end had a loop that went around her wrist, securing the sling to her hand, and the other had a simple knot that she was to hold on to until she released the bullet. The bullet itself lay in a small, flat pocket between the cords. The grumbling beside her told her that Edwin was struggling with the weapon as well.
A halfling grabbed her hand and turned it around. "No no no," he said, adjusting the cord. "Like this! See? Unwind smoothly it will!" He demonstrated by making her rotate her hand slightly, and showed how the cord would not snag on any of her fingers or on itself.
"Oh, like this?" Ember said, and twirled the sling experimentally without letting the bullet fly.
"Yes! Yes!" the halfling exclaimed, clapping his hands with delight. "Now, try to throw!" He gestured towards the targets.
"Shouldn't we go closer?" Ember asked.
"No, no, that's not necessary," the halfling insisted. "Watch!" With a single, smooth movement, he made an overhand throw that sent the bullet flying straight towards one of the farthermost targets. Ember stared in amazement.
With a broad grin, the halfling helped Ember load her sling. She twirled it experimentally to get more of a feel for the stone's weight, and then tried to copy the overhand throw she'd just seen. Her bullet veered quite a bit to the side, but it did make it halfway across the practice field before hitting the short grass.
"Ooh, look at that!" Alora exclaimed from behind Ember. "Holy hopping horsies, a good first throw that was! Do it again!"
Ember grinned at her small companion and reloaded her sling. Her next shot was shorter, but it was less off target. She aimed her third shot at a closer target, and managed to get within a few feet of it. Hey, this isn't so bad! She shot a fourth bullet.
"There must be better ways to spend one's time, even here," Edwin growled beside her.
"Actually, it's kind of fun once you get the feel of it," Ember said.
"Fun? You must be delusional. (As if anyone in this barbaric excuse for a village knows how to have fun.)" Scowling furiously, the wizard slowly loaded his sling and held it unsteadily. Two halflings tried to correct him, but it seemed they only made him angrier. Eventually, he managed to throw the stone, which wobbled through the air and landed barely a dozen feet away.
"Enough!" Edwin shouted. "I refuse to waste more time on this nonsense! (Damn these diminutive simians and their diminutive string weapons!)" He flung his sling to the ground and stormed out of the practice field.
Ember stared at the rapidly departing wizard. "Oh dear," she sighed, sharing a look with Imoen and Kivan.
-.-.-
Edwin hated the world.
He especially hated this village. And halflings. And useless strings that were no match for a properly applied fireball.
The door slid open. The disgustingly cheerful girl who'd helped orchestrate his public humiliation stepped quietly into the room. He hated her too.
"Heya," she said, grinning at him like some insipid fool. No, he didn't hate her, except when she was like this.
"What is it now?" he snarled. Imoen's smile faltered. For a brief moment, he hated himself.
"Um, I was just wondering if you'd like to come to Beregost with me tomorrow," she said.
He didn't hate Beregost, as far as he could recall.
"Why?" he asked.
"Well, it'd be boring to go alone. Not that I'll be going alone, but Kivan isn't exactly the most interesting company I could have," she said. "Besides, I'll need your help deciding what to get, won't I?"
"(So, I am interesting company)," Edwin muttered quietly. Of course he was. The girl had a modicum of taste, after all, which was why he didn't really hate her. "I thought you had your little divination spell to help you with that," he said.
"What, when I can just pester ol' Thalantyr till he tells me what his stuff is?" Imoen grinned lopsidedly. He hadn't quite been able to decide if he hated that grin or not. "That's not what I need help with. After all, we can't afford to buy everything he has."
He hated Thalantyr, just a little, but he did like the old mage's wares. "Obviously not. I suppose I shall have to lower my brain to the task of choosing the most worthwhile magical supplies," he said.
Imoen beamed at him. "Thanks, Eddie! We'll leave at dawn, if that's all right," she said. "See you in the morning!" she exclaimed without waiting for him to answer, and left as abruptly as she'd arrived.
He hated when she did that.
"(At the very least, I'll get away from these midgets for a while)," he muttered with a sigh.
