Cursed Heritage 1 - The Dark Half
Chapter 4 - The boys from Beregost
*-*-*
Well-rested and having mastered some new spells, Aidan joined the others in the hall where they were eating lunch. An unhealthy pallor seemed to linger over the gathering, as Xzar and Montaron sat on a one table, sending overtly hostile stares at Khalid and Jaheira. Aidan made a mental note to discuss the situation with the three more trustworthy members of his small party.
They finished the meal in quiet, and with Jaheira once again taking the lead over the group, they marched outside and began walking towards the famed smithy of the town. Khalid had expressed interest in buying a suit of stronger armor, perhaps splint or even plate mail.
*-*-*
As the party passed the center of the town, a foppish looking young man stopped them. He was wearing a suit of fine leather armor, and carried a sword on his lap. Even Aidan saw that this was no hardened warrior, however.
The handsome youth's whole appearance, from his slender, uncalloused hands to his boyish face told of a softer existence. Yet he, grinning confidently, stepped in front of Jaheira and began to speak in a clear voice.
"Hail, adventurers." The youth grinned at Jaheira, bowing low to her and Imoen in an almost laughably dramatic manner.
"I have a proposal for you. I have heard that you're an excellent group of warriors. How would you like a well-paying job as bodyguards for my mistress?" he continued, and waited anxiously for their answer.
Jaheira glanced at the companions, and even Imoen raised her eyebrows at this. "Excellent warriors?" Was the man trying to impress them, or was he setting up some kind of scam?
"We're always on the lookout for money, tell us more." Montaron replied before Jaheira had the chance to politely decline.
The youth's face lit up, and he started to speak in his excited style. "I'm Garrick and I work for Silke Rosena." Again he glanced at the companions, as if they should have recognized the name. It meant nothing to Aidan.
"She's the most skilled musician and actor along the Sword Coast; in fact, she's to play at the Duchal palace before the month's done." He pressed on.
"But... she's been having some problems of late. Some thugs have been hired by Feldepost to hurt her bad, because she didn't perform at his inn when she was supposed to." Garrick made a dramatic pause, probably for effect.
Feldepost's thug's? Aidan found that hard to believe. The old man who owned the inn had seemed a mild manner gentleman.
"You can't blame her for not showing up, what with a villain like Feldepost running the place. She needs mercenaries to protect her until she's ready to go to Baldur's Gate. She's willing to pay about 300 gold. What do you say?" he finished, spreading his hands in a grandiose gesture.
As Montaron had already indicated interest, and the money would be welcome, Jaheira nodded at Aidan in agreement.
"That sounds fair, why don't you show us to this mistress of yours." He replied their young recruiter.
This was all the encouragement Garrick needed, and he enthusiastically began to lead them towards the Red Sheaf Inn.
Outside, a slender woman in her thirties, dressed in black was lounging. Not exactly looking like an actress, she nonetheless introduced herself as a "thespian extraordinaire".
"So Garrick, these are the only mercenaries you could find. I guess they'll have to do." she sniffed to the youth after introductions.
"You look to be worth about 300 gold, that's what my little Garrick offered you isn't it?" she asked Jaheira, who merely nodded.
"Well then, I assume that Garrick has explained what your duties are." She eyed the group quizzically.
"You must simply dispose of the ruffians when they come to threaten me. They shouldn't be too hard to deal with, but I would advise you to strike fast. Whatever you do don't speak with them. One of them is a mage whose mystic words can sway even the most wise of men." This certainly didn't sound like how an actress would approach the situation!
Aidan sensed that something wasn't quite right with the whole set up, and a quick glance at his companions told him that they agreed with him. Resolving to be ready for anything, Aidan mentally prepared himself for spell casting, just in case.
Some time later, they saw three men in bright clothes approach. They certainly didn't look like thugs.
"Here they are now: Feldepost's thugs. Strike when I tell you to." Silke whispered to the companions.
Aidan shot a quick glance at his fellows. Montaron was grinning like a bloodthirsty wolf, and Xzar was obviously preparing to open up with his life draining spells at any moment. Khalid, Jaheira and Imoen, however, seemed to share his worry of the developing situation.
"Greeting Silke. We're here as you've asked, and we have the." the lead man began.
Silke cut him off in mid sentence.
"Don't try to threaten me! I won't be easy prey for you to beat on, I've brought friends!" she shouted, causing people to stop and turn to watch.
"What are you talking about? We're here with the gems that..." the man replied in puzzlement and growing terror, as he saw the heavily armed companions.
Aidan stepped forward, determined not to be manipulated into killing these seemingly innocent men.
"Shut up! There'll be no weaseling out of this one. STRIKE NOW! Kill them all!" Silke hissed venomously.
"Stop this madness, we won't murder those who are obviously innocent men." Jaheira shouted and jumped to stand between Silke and the three men as Garrick stared, mouth agape, at the rapidly deteriorating situation.
"Our deal is off! In any case, you're probably too cowardly to be any good in a fight. I'll deal with them myself, after I deal with you!" Silke screamed at her, her face contorted in fury.
Aidan was surprised as she began spell casting. A mage! Khalid surged forward, but Jaheira proved to be faster. She struck the evil wizardess across her face with her staff, sending her reeling and ruining her spell. Shooting a venomous glance at Jaheira, Silke grabbed her own staff and swung it in a wide arc, forcing Khalid and Montaron to momentarily keep their distance.
Grinning nastily, she prepared to begin her casting anew. Aidan prepared for the worst, when Silke screamed in agony. The evil mage fell to ground, Imoen's dagger buried in her back.
*-*-*
Exonerated by the crowd and the three men they had saved, the companions were let go easily after short questioning. Silke had possessed over 400 in gold and her fine quarter staff, which Aidan determined to be magical. Her young hireling Garrick had offered to join up with them, but Jaheira had forbade it. Aidan felt sorry for the young man, but saw no particular reason to argue against the formidable warrior druid who seemed to be in a foul mood. The grateful merchants also gifted the companions with some potions.
Taerom Fuiruim concurred with Aidan's assessment of Silke's fine quarter staff after being paid 100 gold, telling the party that their newest prize was imbued with a minor enchantment, causing it to hit harder and more accurately than a regular weapon. Jaheira took it as her new personal melee weapon, preferring it over her old plain staff. Aidan had no objections, as he abhorred the bloody nature of the melee anyway.
Aidan had learned some very useful new spells from the captured spell book, namely the "Magic Missile" and "Larloch's Minor Drain". He now knew that the latter was also known to Xzar, as the tattooed madman had used it to successfully weaken the belt-fetishist ogre. Not needing the ranged attack spells yet, having his wand, Aidan had chosen to memorize the familiar "Sleep" and "Armor" instead. Besides, he was hoping they would reach Nashkel without being forced to fight again.
"Hear ye! Hear ye!"
Aidan turned to watch as a young man in fine dark clothes, obviously the town crier, addressed the passing crowds.
The young man drew a deep breath, and started his announcing once again.
"Hear ye! Hear ye! By order of his Most Radiant of Lathander Kelddath Ormlyr, governor of Beregost, and in the best interest of its peoples, forthwith there be a bounty placed upon the head of the mad cleric Bassilus, for the crimes against nature that he has committed! Anyone bringing proof of his demise to the Song of the Morning temple shall receive no less than five thousand gold! Hear ye! Hear ye!"
Five thousand gold! A king's ransom! Aidan's mind spun at the possibilities. But then again, a mad cleric with that large a bounty on his head? The task would be extremely dangerous, that was for sure.
*-*-*
The rest of their time the group spent apart from each other. Aidan spent some time in the company of an older man named Raleo in the Burning Wizard, waiting for the rest of his companions to arrive.
Jaheira and Khalid had visited the governor of Beregost, Kelddath Ormlyr. The man was a powerful priest and head of the local temple of Lathander, and the couple had inquired about the enchanted belts they had won from the ogre. The other had truly been a cursed item, one that changed the sex of it's wearer, but the other was a very useful protective device. When worn, it protected against piercing wounds such as made by arrows or spear thrusts. Jaheira gifted it to Aidan, citing the reason as saving her life in the nocturnal gibberling battle.
In her mind, she vowed that she wouldn't fail Gorion, she would protect Aidan with her own life if necessary.
Xzar and Montaron seemed even more reticent and sullen when they returned, and their presence drew an immediate gloom over the small gathering. Imoen took her time, and when she finally arrived, Aidan noticed her cheeks were glowing and her smile was even brighter than usual.
The young wizard knew immediately that his friend had managed to "procure" something interesting. Aidan would have to wait until they were safe from Jaheira's gaze, as he (quite correctly) guessed that the half-elf wouldn't approve of her antics.
*-*-*
The birds were singing and the air was pleasantly warm. Aidan even began to whistle, which was stopped short by a murderous glare from Montaron and an unbecoming scowl on Jaheira's face. He didn't mind, possessing no illusions about the quality of his singing or whistling.
There seemed to be some kind of a commotion ahead, Aidan saw distractedly. His eyes flew wide open. Some commotion indeed! Two huge brutish forms were advancing on them. Not quite ogre sized, but still formidable they lumbered forward flexing their horn covered fists. The brutes had apparently attacked someone, as Aidan saw a prone form lying some distance behind them.
Khalid had already drawn his long sword, and was warily advancing while Montaron and Imoen struggled to ready their weapons. Jaheira made a few test swings with her new weapon and grinned confidently, seemingly pleased with it's balance.
Ogrillons! Aidan finally recognized the humanoids, as they charged Khalid and Jaheira. A kind of orc/ogre crossbreed, they were often used by powerful orcish warlords as shock troops. Not particularly intelligent, but strong and resilient. Preferring to wait and see if his spells were to be needed, Aidan saw Imoen score first blood as her arrow hit one of the brutes.
It slowed down, clutching it's stomach. The other surprisingly dodged Khalid's swing and pounded him with it's horned fists. The half-elven fighter blocked the beastly orc-spawn with his shield however, and Jaheira lent the creature an avenging blow on it's tough skull. Staggering from the punishing magically enhanced blow, the ogrillon literally lost it's head to Khalid's return swing.
Imoen hit the already wounded brute with another arrow, but the creature charged Montaron nonetheless and pummeled him badly. The halfling fell to ground motionless, and the ogrillon prepared to crush the small thug. Screaming in rage, Xzar rushed the humanoid his dagger held in both hands. The half ogre/orc was ready, and sent Xzar flying with a thunderous slap. The situation becoming truly dangerous, Aidan blasted the brute with a missile from his wand.
The purple blast of magical energy flew straight inside the open, screaming mouth of the remaining ogrillon. The beast's skull was momentarily lit by the eerie magenta light, then it's legs wobbled and it fell down next to the unconscious halfling.
"Next time," Jaheira glared at him, "don't hesitate to join the battle sooner!"
*-*-*
Imoen was bored.
The young girl had returned to Beregost, on an errand from the self- appointed leader of their little group.
"Silly old bird!" she mouthed off in frustration, after warily glancing that Jaheira was nowhere nearby. She was waiting for the acolyte to return with the potions. After their last battle, they had "wasted" ("Jaheira's own words!", she thought) few potions to get Xzar and Montaron to walking condition again, and of course it was SHE who had to run back to buy those two silly bubbleheads replacements!
The acolyte returned, and smiled at her hopefully. Graciously, she rewarded him with one of her very best smiles, looking at him straight into the eye from under her long lashes. The boy turned red and quickly bowed and retreated.
She stifled a giggle, and returned outside, remembering that she still had the pouch of the second ogrillon. Having been sent on this fool's errand, Imoen considered this a fitting payment. She opened the pouch, and gagged from the stench.
Imoen was many things, light headed and naive among them, but not a faint hearted maiden by any means. In fact, she had always beaten the much more prim and proper Aidan in their youthful "dare" contests. Despite the dubious cleanliness of the bag, she plunged her hand inside without a second thought. Inside was a silver necklace and a tattered scroll.
The necklace wasn't exactly valuable and she stuffed it into her pocket without a second glance. The scroll was a message for someone called "Mirianne". Apparently, she lived in Beregost, and the messenger had been the unlucky halfling beaten to death by the ogrillons.
Imoen, being a kindly soul didn't need any more incitement, doing a good deed was enough for her. She resolved to track this Mirianne down, and deliver the message from her husband.
It turned out to be a rather profitable act of charity for the young adventurer.
*-*-*
Aidan was sitting on a large rock, waiting for Imoen's return. He felt a little guilty for not accompanying her, they had been attacked multiple times after leaving Candlekeep after all. Montaron and Xzar were arguing about something again.
The young wizard gritted his teeth. Those two were increasingly taxing his nerves. Aidan closed his eyes and tried to picture Candlekeep in his eyes. He thought of his old room, of the great library and Winthrop's small inn.
He was so focused on his nostalgia that he jumped in alarm when Jaheira sat down next to him. She grinned at his reddening face and mumbled apology.
Not wishing to disturb the young man, she merely tapped him sympathetically on his shoulder and gazed off in the distance.
"Montyyy!!! Tell me aboouuutt the raaabittss!"
Now it was Jaheira's turn to grit her teeth.
"Insane Zhentish filth!" she silently cursed. She and Khalid had reached the same conclusion, having had some experience with the black network before, that these two were Zhentarim agents. They certainly had used the lesser Zhentarim codes when speaking to each other, thinking that the other's wouldn't understand.
Jaheira merely smiled grimly. She and Khalid had dealt with Zhent's before.
Hearing the young wizard rise up she glanced at him. Imoen was coming back, and Aidan was anxiously walking to meet her.
"So innocent." she mused, watching him go. Had she ever been that way? She wasn't old, not yet, but seeing the two friends excitedly chatting and examining something, made her feel ancient.
But her initial, harsh view of Aidan had also been swiftly corrected. He had handled himself adequately in battle, and calming down that impending bar fight had convinced her that the boy was quick thinking and smart.
Rising to her feet, she cursed and insulted the two ruffians into preparing their gear for departure. Nashkel was still some distance away, and with all the bandits and monsters they seemed to attract, the journey would be best made quickly.
*-*-*
Aidan hugged his cloak tighter around his body and shivered in the chill air. For the first time in his life, he saw mountains as the Cloudspeaks range loomed in the horizon. The village of Nashkel was just ahead, the northernmost part of the mercantile empire of Amn.
The party crested the last hill before the village and saw the bridge leading to the settlement right in front of them. A small contingent of Amnish soldiers were gloomily watching them approach, their bows in their hands but not currently pointed at Aidan's band.
As they crossed the bridge an officer stepped forth to parley with Jaheira.
"Identify yourselves!" he called out in stern manner, holding his hand on the hilt of his currently sheathed weapon.
"I am Jaheira and this is my band of fellow adventurers. I hear that this is a troubled region as of late. Allow me to put ourselves at your disposal during our stay here." Jaheira replied in careful manner.
The soldier's gaze drifted along the members of the party, lingering on Xzar the longest. Aidan winced, thinking that the tattooed maniac would hinder their entry. He didn't want to sleep outside tonight, in this chilly weather.
"If you're seeking to resolve troubles, welcome. If you're seeking to cause them, kindly take it elsewhere..." he replied after a moment.
"Things are not good here, Jaheira." The officer amended, looking even more haggard.
Aidan noticed the dark circles under his eyes. Had there been a battle here, or something else that had fatigued the soldiers this badly?
"What things aren't good?" Jaheira spoke againg.
"All w. w. we have heard are rumors and vague suspicions." Khalid added, his stuttering drawing a derisive snort from Montaron.
The officer's shoulders slumped even further, if possible. He shook his head wearily before answering the half-elves.
"Aye, what IS good around here, anymore?" The bitterness in his voice was like the chill wind Aidan felt currently blowing through the thin fabric of his robes.
"Our iron is rotten and there is talk of demons in the mines. The lower levels have been all but abandoned until this crisis passes." He seemed to hesitate before continuing.
"And then there is the question of Commander Brage... Ack, they have stripped him of that title but I use it yet... He killed his wife and children in a rage one night and all who saw him. Then he tore himself away and headed for the hills. He is out there still and still we mourn, as much for him as for those he's taken..." The soldier stepped aside to let them pass and lowered his head.
"Fie on you, now! You have brought tears to the eyes of a soldier!" he muttered as they passed him.
*-*-*
The Nashkel Inn was uncharacteristically full people that night. Not only the local's enjoying a mug of ale after a hard day of working at the field, but a rather noisy group of strangers as well.
"That's him!?" somebody hoarsely whispered to the petite woman sitting in the shadowy corner table. She turned and flashed a quick smile at the huge, bearded man pulling a chair to sit beside her.
"Yes. Gorion's ward." She remarked, watching the young brown haired man arguing with another, tattooed man in the large table at the center of the room.
"So." He looked at her quizzically.
"You would kill him." she answered. Not a question.
"Of course." The man flexed his gigantic muscles. "Even with this. this. while looking like this," he gestured at his own general direction disgustedly, "I could easily crush the life out of him and his pathetic companions."
"I know you could." She smiled at him reassuringly.
"Now is not the time, however. This fool is doomed anyway, and we do not need to dirty out hands." She stretched herself as she rose up from her chair, preparing to leave the inn.
The bearded giant also rose up and hastily shot a final glance at the other table.
"What if he survives through all of this?" he asked his pretty brunette companion.
She merely smiled at him.
*-*-*
Candlekeep.
It loomed in front of him, his home.
He saw his old window, a candle flickering and then dying.
He couldn't go back, no matter how much he wished. The gates were closed and the world was filled with darkness.
Suddenly, he saw his foster father in front of him!
Aidan was just about to call out to him, when he realized that it would be folly.
Gorion was a spirit, dead in this apparent dream as in life.
He turned and saw a wide and welcoming path in front of him. It seemed meant for him, and he felt something deep inside respond to this sight. He took a step towards it when he saw another path.
This new path led to the forest, and looked dangerous and hard to travel. Nevertheless, somehow Aidan realized that taking the easy choice didn't appeal to him. Gorion's spirit smiled at him and he felt his doubts ease.
Ignoring the pull in his very being, Aidan started towards the small, rocky road.
"This is a dream and I will wake up!" he said aloud.
Aidan opened his eyes, it was morning and he was lying in his bed at the Nashkel Inn.
Somehow a voice, unknown yet somehow familiar still lingered in his mind.
"You will learn."
Aidan shivered at the words.
*-*-*
"So now we're free of those two thugs." Jaheira stated, grim smile on her face.
After last nights argument, Montaron and Xzar had stormed off, vowing to meet Berrun Ghastkill alone.
Aidan too was glad to be rid of them. Traveling with such insane and dangerous companions was something he didn't wish to repeat in the future.
They were now sitting in the Belching Dragon tavern, waiting for Khalid who was shopping for a new armor. Aidan grinned at the thought, and fondled a ring on his finger. He had received it from Imoen, "a present" she called it. While the ring was quite pleasing to the eye, it was also enchanted. Imbued with protective magics, it was yet another addition to his defenses which already included the magical belt and his "Armor" spell.
As Aidan scanned the crowd for the umpteenth time, his gaze happened on a dapper looking man wearing a beret, enjoying a foaming mug of ale. Smiling gregariously, he motioned Aidan to join him.
"Greetings fellow traveler, for I see by your garb that you do not call this place home. Sit with me awhile, and enjoy the atmosphere of this fine fair while we recant tales of lands far and far-seeming." The man introduced himself to be none other than the infamous bar-room critic and sage, Volothamp Geddarm.
Aidan had heard of Volo before, Winthrop had accused him of spreading lies about his inn and Gorion had mentioned his name with some scorn, yet acknowledging his keen ear for knowledge and gossip.
"I have wandered the width and breadth of Faerun, but yet have I to find such hospitality, as that of a simple country festival." Volo continued.
"It's a shame that the festivities are marred by the events as of recent, though they certainly put up a brave face, do they not? You look confused, so perhaps you know not of the local trouble that continues to vex the most gracious people of Nashkel." He asked Aidan, rising his eyebrows in a theatrical manner.
"If you have just arrived I could, for the price of an ale and an ear, relate what I know. Shall I tell you of their mining difficulties, or relate the tale of their unfortunate commander of the guard?" he grinned as he drunk the last of his ale.
"My companions and I have an interest in the mines. Tell me what you know." Aidan answered him, motioning for the barmaid to bring up two more mugs of ale.
Volo waited until she brought him the mug. He drew a deep swig of the foaming brew, and begun to speak in a dramatic manner.
"The word is, that all across the expansive Sword Coast, from the Cloudpeaks to Baldur's Gate, an ore shortage is severely crippling local trade. Bandits -purportedly both human AND demihuman- raid caravans, whilst ore reaching its destination becomes brittle and useless following smelting, strangely afflicted by an odd, iron-weakening plague." Aidan had never heard of an plague that affected iron. Surely something unnatural was at work here.
"As though this were not cause for alarm in itself, production at the mine outside of Nashkel has fallen, with the substantially lower yields being blamed on nervous workers. Mysterious disappearances of several miners have set the whole area on edge, where something must shift the balance to one side, or the other." Volo finished, smiling at his ale.
Aidan saw that Khalid had returned, so he bid the roguish wizard goodbye and returned to his companions.
*-*-*
"Hello there! I recognize Jaheira in your group, so you must be the adventurers I was expecting." The old half-elf greeted the companions.
"I am Berrun Ghastkill, mayor of Nashkel, and I am happy to welcome you. I am sorry we had to meet under these circumstances." He shook each of their hands in turn.
Aidan was favorably impressed by the gray-maned old adventurer, who was also the mayor of Nashkel. Curiously enough, he didn't mention either Xzar or Montaron. Had the dynamic duo developed cold feet?
"W. w.whuwhat exactly is the trouble here?" Khalid asked the mayor with some difficulty.
"I can't believe you haven't guessed. Have you heard of the iron shortage?" the old warhorse asked him back, incredulously.
"Well, Nashkel is in the thick of it. Our mine is all but shut down because the workers continually go missing, and what ore we do get is tainted somehow. I would send in the town guards, but we need them to protect our citizens from the bandits that raid our caravans. We need you to find out what is wrong in the mines southeast of town." Berrun looked tired and worried as he finished.
"We will do what we can." Jaheira reassured him, bringing some life back into the old man's eyes.
"Thank you. You will be the toast of the town if you can help." He replied them, and smiled.
*-*-*
A window creaked open, and a small lithe form climbed rapidly out. The moon illuminated the manor house's yard, and the figure quickly took to the shadows, closing the window carefully first.
Imoen was exultant.
She had managed to grab all sorts of nice little valuable's from the place, both gold and jewelry. The others wouldn't approve, but she didn't expect them to.
Imoen giggled at the thought of Aidan trying to act disapproving and "adult" towards her. He had often tried to assume the older brother role, but her mischievous lack of respect for authority had doomed his efforts.
Now what was that?
She spied a small house, away from the main settlement, it's window invitingly open, yet dark. The thrill of sneaking in stole over her, and she decided that the night wasn't over yet.
Imoen stealthily crawled inside from the small window, dropping soundlessly to the floor with her catlike grace.
"Ohh! What am I DOING here!?" she silently berated herself. She had broken into some poor commoners house, and while certainly a thief, she was a kindly hearted young woman who didn't steal from as much greed than curiosity.
She was just about to turn back and climb out again, when she heard the soft weeping from the other room. The door was closed, but she could see that a candle was lit inside.
Imoen peered inside from the keyhole, and saw that there were two people in the other room. One was an old woman, soundly asleep in her bed, and the weeping was coming from a younger woman, in her late twenties and probably the relative of the sleeping woman.
Without much thinking, the soft hearted rogue opened the door, and gently coughed.
The woman turned, startled. "What are you doing in my house!" She demanded, looking frightened and angry.
"I, uh, heard crying and came to see if everything was okay." Imoen offered, applying her most disarming smile.
Surprisingly, the woman seemed to buy the explanation.
"I, uh, please be quiet. My mother is sick." She rose up and quickly brushed her eyes.
"It's just that my hus. Joseph, my husband, hasn't returned from the mines or sent any word. And with all those disappearances." she seemed ready to start crying again.
"Maybe I could help you." Imoen offered earnestly, for she had taken pity for the poor woman's plight.
"We're thinking of exploring the mines. Describe your husband for us, maybe we'll see him."
Hope lit up in the poor farmwife's eyes again.
"He's got black hair, blue eyes..." she began excitedly, then paused to think.
"Ohh damn, you'll never find him from that description. His name is Joseph, and he wears his wedding ring on his left hand. It's a greenstone ring."
Helping others in need was as exciting as any good heist for Imoen. She listened to the woman's descriptions and wished her good night.
Imoen could hardly contain her excitement, as she slipped in her bed.
Tomorrow they would depart for the mines.
Chapter 4 - The boys from Beregost
*-*-*
Well-rested and having mastered some new spells, Aidan joined the others in the hall where they were eating lunch. An unhealthy pallor seemed to linger over the gathering, as Xzar and Montaron sat on a one table, sending overtly hostile stares at Khalid and Jaheira. Aidan made a mental note to discuss the situation with the three more trustworthy members of his small party.
They finished the meal in quiet, and with Jaheira once again taking the lead over the group, they marched outside and began walking towards the famed smithy of the town. Khalid had expressed interest in buying a suit of stronger armor, perhaps splint or even plate mail.
*-*-*
As the party passed the center of the town, a foppish looking young man stopped them. He was wearing a suit of fine leather armor, and carried a sword on his lap. Even Aidan saw that this was no hardened warrior, however.
The handsome youth's whole appearance, from his slender, uncalloused hands to his boyish face told of a softer existence. Yet he, grinning confidently, stepped in front of Jaheira and began to speak in a clear voice.
"Hail, adventurers." The youth grinned at Jaheira, bowing low to her and Imoen in an almost laughably dramatic manner.
"I have a proposal for you. I have heard that you're an excellent group of warriors. How would you like a well-paying job as bodyguards for my mistress?" he continued, and waited anxiously for their answer.
Jaheira glanced at the companions, and even Imoen raised her eyebrows at this. "Excellent warriors?" Was the man trying to impress them, or was he setting up some kind of scam?
"We're always on the lookout for money, tell us more." Montaron replied before Jaheira had the chance to politely decline.
The youth's face lit up, and he started to speak in his excited style. "I'm Garrick and I work for Silke Rosena." Again he glanced at the companions, as if they should have recognized the name. It meant nothing to Aidan.
"She's the most skilled musician and actor along the Sword Coast; in fact, she's to play at the Duchal palace before the month's done." He pressed on.
"But... she's been having some problems of late. Some thugs have been hired by Feldepost to hurt her bad, because she didn't perform at his inn when she was supposed to." Garrick made a dramatic pause, probably for effect.
Feldepost's thug's? Aidan found that hard to believe. The old man who owned the inn had seemed a mild manner gentleman.
"You can't blame her for not showing up, what with a villain like Feldepost running the place. She needs mercenaries to protect her until she's ready to go to Baldur's Gate. She's willing to pay about 300 gold. What do you say?" he finished, spreading his hands in a grandiose gesture.
As Montaron had already indicated interest, and the money would be welcome, Jaheira nodded at Aidan in agreement.
"That sounds fair, why don't you show us to this mistress of yours." He replied their young recruiter.
This was all the encouragement Garrick needed, and he enthusiastically began to lead them towards the Red Sheaf Inn.
Outside, a slender woman in her thirties, dressed in black was lounging. Not exactly looking like an actress, she nonetheless introduced herself as a "thespian extraordinaire".
"So Garrick, these are the only mercenaries you could find. I guess they'll have to do." she sniffed to the youth after introductions.
"You look to be worth about 300 gold, that's what my little Garrick offered you isn't it?" she asked Jaheira, who merely nodded.
"Well then, I assume that Garrick has explained what your duties are." She eyed the group quizzically.
"You must simply dispose of the ruffians when they come to threaten me. They shouldn't be too hard to deal with, but I would advise you to strike fast. Whatever you do don't speak with them. One of them is a mage whose mystic words can sway even the most wise of men." This certainly didn't sound like how an actress would approach the situation!
Aidan sensed that something wasn't quite right with the whole set up, and a quick glance at his companions told him that they agreed with him. Resolving to be ready for anything, Aidan mentally prepared himself for spell casting, just in case.
Some time later, they saw three men in bright clothes approach. They certainly didn't look like thugs.
"Here they are now: Feldepost's thugs. Strike when I tell you to." Silke whispered to the companions.
Aidan shot a quick glance at his fellows. Montaron was grinning like a bloodthirsty wolf, and Xzar was obviously preparing to open up with his life draining spells at any moment. Khalid, Jaheira and Imoen, however, seemed to share his worry of the developing situation.
"Greeting Silke. We're here as you've asked, and we have the." the lead man began.
Silke cut him off in mid sentence.
"Don't try to threaten me! I won't be easy prey for you to beat on, I've brought friends!" she shouted, causing people to stop and turn to watch.
"What are you talking about? We're here with the gems that..." the man replied in puzzlement and growing terror, as he saw the heavily armed companions.
Aidan stepped forward, determined not to be manipulated into killing these seemingly innocent men.
"Shut up! There'll be no weaseling out of this one. STRIKE NOW! Kill them all!" Silke hissed venomously.
"Stop this madness, we won't murder those who are obviously innocent men." Jaheira shouted and jumped to stand between Silke and the three men as Garrick stared, mouth agape, at the rapidly deteriorating situation.
"Our deal is off! In any case, you're probably too cowardly to be any good in a fight. I'll deal with them myself, after I deal with you!" Silke screamed at her, her face contorted in fury.
Aidan was surprised as she began spell casting. A mage! Khalid surged forward, but Jaheira proved to be faster. She struck the evil wizardess across her face with her staff, sending her reeling and ruining her spell. Shooting a venomous glance at Jaheira, Silke grabbed her own staff and swung it in a wide arc, forcing Khalid and Montaron to momentarily keep their distance.
Grinning nastily, she prepared to begin her casting anew. Aidan prepared for the worst, when Silke screamed in agony. The evil mage fell to ground, Imoen's dagger buried in her back.
*-*-*
Exonerated by the crowd and the three men they had saved, the companions were let go easily after short questioning. Silke had possessed over 400 in gold and her fine quarter staff, which Aidan determined to be magical. Her young hireling Garrick had offered to join up with them, but Jaheira had forbade it. Aidan felt sorry for the young man, but saw no particular reason to argue against the formidable warrior druid who seemed to be in a foul mood. The grateful merchants also gifted the companions with some potions.
Taerom Fuiruim concurred with Aidan's assessment of Silke's fine quarter staff after being paid 100 gold, telling the party that their newest prize was imbued with a minor enchantment, causing it to hit harder and more accurately than a regular weapon. Jaheira took it as her new personal melee weapon, preferring it over her old plain staff. Aidan had no objections, as he abhorred the bloody nature of the melee anyway.
Aidan had learned some very useful new spells from the captured spell book, namely the "Magic Missile" and "Larloch's Minor Drain". He now knew that the latter was also known to Xzar, as the tattooed madman had used it to successfully weaken the belt-fetishist ogre. Not needing the ranged attack spells yet, having his wand, Aidan had chosen to memorize the familiar "Sleep" and "Armor" instead. Besides, he was hoping they would reach Nashkel without being forced to fight again.
"Hear ye! Hear ye!"
Aidan turned to watch as a young man in fine dark clothes, obviously the town crier, addressed the passing crowds.
The young man drew a deep breath, and started his announcing once again.
"Hear ye! Hear ye! By order of his Most Radiant of Lathander Kelddath Ormlyr, governor of Beregost, and in the best interest of its peoples, forthwith there be a bounty placed upon the head of the mad cleric Bassilus, for the crimes against nature that he has committed! Anyone bringing proof of his demise to the Song of the Morning temple shall receive no less than five thousand gold! Hear ye! Hear ye!"
Five thousand gold! A king's ransom! Aidan's mind spun at the possibilities. But then again, a mad cleric with that large a bounty on his head? The task would be extremely dangerous, that was for sure.
*-*-*
The rest of their time the group spent apart from each other. Aidan spent some time in the company of an older man named Raleo in the Burning Wizard, waiting for the rest of his companions to arrive.
Jaheira and Khalid had visited the governor of Beregost, Kelddath Ormlyr. The man was a powerful priest and head of the local temple of Lathander, and the couple had inquired about the enchanted belts they had won from the ogre. The other had truly been a cursed item, one that changed the sex of it's wearer, but the other was a very useful protective device. When worn, it protected against piercing wounds such as made by arrows or spear thrusts. Jaheira gifted it to Aidan, citing the reason as saving her life in the nocturnal gibberling battle.
In her mind, she vowed that she wouldn't fail Gorion, she would protect Aidan with her own life if necessary.
Xzar and Montaron seemed even more reticent and sullen when they returned, and their presence drew an immediate gloom over the small gathering. Imoen took her time, and when she finally arrived, Aidan noticed her cheeks were glowing and her smile was even brighter than usual.
The young wizard knew immediately that his friend had managed to "procure" something interesting. Aidan would have to wait until they were safe from Jaheira's gaze, as he (quite correctly) guessed that the half-elf wouldn't approve of her antics.
*-*-*
The birds were singing and the air was pleasantly warm. Aidan even began to whistle, which was stopped short by a murderous glare from Montaron and an unbecoming scowl on Jaheira's face. He didn't mind, possessing no illusions about the quality of his singing or whistling.
There seemed to be some kind of a commotion ahead, Aidan saw distractedly. His eyes flew wide open. Some commotion indeed! Two huge brutish forms were advancing on them. Not quite ogre sized, but still formidable they lumbered forward flexing their horn covered fists. The brutes had apparently attacked someone, as Aidan saw a prone form lying some distance behind them.
Khalid had already drawn his long sword, and was warily advancing while Montaron and Imoen struggled to ready their weapons. Jaheira made a few test swings with her new weapon and grinned confidently, seemingly pleased with it's balance.
Ogrillons! Aidan finally recognized the humanoids, as they charged Khalid and Jaheira. A kind of orc/ogre crossbreed, they were often used by powerful orcish warlords as shock troops. Not particularly intelligent, but strong and resilient. Preferring to wait and see if his spells were to be needed, Aidan saw Imoen score first blood as her arrow hit one of the brutes.
It slowed down, clutching it's stomach. The other surprisingly dodged Khalid's swing and pounded him with it's horned fists. The half-elven fighter blocked the beastly orc-spawn with his shield however, and Jaheira lent the creature an avenging blow on it's tough skull. Staggering from the punishing magically enhanced blow, the ogrillon literally lost it's head to Khalid's return swing.
Imoen hit the already wounded brute with another arrow, but the creature charged Montaron nonetheless and pummeled him badly. The halfling fell to ground motionless, and the ogrillon prepared to crush the small thug. Screaming in rage, Xzar rushed the humanoid his dagger held in both hands. The half ogre/orc was ready, and sent Xzar flying with a thunderous slap. The situation becoming truly dangerous, Aidan blasted the brute with a missile from his wand.
The purple blast of magical energy flew straight inside the open, screaming mouth of the remaining ogrillon. The beast's skull was momentarily lit by the eerie magenta light, then it's legs wobbled and it fell down next to the unconscious halfling.
"Next time," Jaheira glared at him, "don't hesitate to join the battle sooner!"
*-*-*
Imoen was bored.
The young girl had returned to Beregost, on an errand from the self- appointed leader of their little group.
"Silly old bird!" she mouthed off in frustration, after warily glancing that Jaheira was nowhere nearby. She was waiting for the acolyte to return with the potions. After their last battle, they had "wasted" ("Jaheira's own words!", she thought) few potions to get Xzar and Montaron to walking condition again, and of course it was SHE who had to run back to buy those two silly bubbleheads replacements!
The acolyte returned, and smiled at her hopefully. Graciously, she rewarded him with one of her very best smiles, looking at him straight into the eye from under her long lashes. The boy turned red and quickly bowed and retreated.
She stifled a giggle, and returned outside, remembering that she still had the pouch of the second ogrillon. Having been sent on this fool's errand, Imoen considered this a fitting payment. She opened the pouch, and gagged from the stench.
Imoen was many things, light headed and naive among them, but not a faint hearted maiden by any means. In fact, she had always beaten the much more prim and proper Aidan in their youthful "dare" contests. Despite the dubious cleanliness of the bag, she plunged her hand inside without a second thought. Inside was a silver necklace and a tattered scroll.
The necklace wasn't exactly valuable and she stuffed it into her pocket without a second glance. The scroll was a message for someone called "Mirianne". Apparently, she lived in Beregost, and the messenger had been the unlucky halfling beaten to death by the ogrillons.
Imoen, being a kindly soul didn't need any more incitement, doing a good deed was enough for her. She resolved to track this Mirianne down, and deliver the message from her husband.
It turned out to be a rather profitable act of charity for the young adventurer.
*-*-*
Aidan was sitting on a large rock, waiting for Imoen's return. He felt a little guilty for not accompanying her, they had been attacked multiple times after leaving Candlekeep after all. Montaron and Xzar were arguing about something again.
The young wizard gritted his teeth. Those two were increasingly taxing his nerves. Aidan closed his eyes and tried to picture Candlekeep in his eyes. He thought of his old room, of the great library and Winthrop's small inn.
He was so focused on his nostalgia that he jumped in alarm when Jaheira sat down next to him. She grinned at his reddening face and mumbled apology.
Not wishing to disturb the young man, she merely tapped him sympathetically on his shoulder and gazed off in the distance.
"Montyyy!!! Tell me aboouuutt the raaabittss!"
Now it was Jaheira's turn to grit her teeth.
"Insane Zhentish filth!" she silently cursed. She and Khalid had reached the same conclusion, having had some experience with the black network before, that these two were Zhentarim agents. They certainly had used the lesser Zhentarim codes when speaking to each other, thinking that the other's wouldn't understand.
Jaheira merely smiled grimly. She and Khalid had dealt with Zhent's before.
Hearing the young wizard rise up she glanced at him. Imoen was coming back, and Aidan was anxiously walking to meet her.
"So innocent." she mused, watching him go. Had she ever been that way? She wasn't old, not yet, but seeing the two friends excitedly chatting and examining something, made her feel ancient.
But her initial, harsh view of Aidan had also been swiftly corrected. He had handled himself adequately in battle, and calming down that impending bar fight had convinced her that the boy was quick thinking and smart.
Rising to her feet, she cursed and insulted the two ruffians into preparing their gear for departure. Nashkel was still some distance away, and with all the bandits and monsters they seemed to attract, the journey would be best made quickly.
*-*-*
Aidan hugged his cloak tighter around his body and shivered in the chill air. For the first time in his life, he saw mountains as the Cloudspeaks range loomed in the horizon. The village of Nashkel was just ahead, the northernmost part of the mercantile empire of Amn.
The party crested the last hill before the village and saw the bridge leading to the settlement right in front of them. A small contingent of Amnish soldiers were gloomily watching them approach, their bows in their hands but not currently pointed at Aidan's band.
As they crossed the bridge an officer stepped forth to parley with Jaheira.
"Identify yourselves!" he called out in stern manner, holding his hand on the hilt of his currently sheathed weapon.
"I am Jaheira and this is my band of fellow adventurers. I hear that this is a troubled region as of late. Allow me to put ourselves at your disposal during our stay here." Jaheira replied in careful manner.
The soldier's gaze drifted along the members of the party, lingering on Xzar the longest. Aidan winced, thinking that the tattooed maniac would hinder their entry. He didn't want to sleep outside tonight, in this chilly weather.
"If you're seeking to resolve troubles, welcome. If you're seeking to cause them, kindly take it elsewhere..." he replied after a moment.
"Things are not good here, Jaheira." The officer amended, looking even more haggard.
Aidan noticed the dark circles under his eyes. Had there been a battle here, or something else that had fatigued the soldiers this badly?
"What things aren't good?" Jaheira spoke againg.
"All w. w. we have heard are rumors and vague suspicions." Khalid added, his stuttering drawing a derisive snort from Montaron.
The officer's shoulders slumped even further, if possible. He shook his head wearily before answering the half-elves.
"Aye, what IS good around here, anymore?" The bitterness in his voice was like the chill wind Aidan felt currently blowing through the thin fabric of his robes.
"Our iron is rotten and there is talk of demons in the mines. The lower levels have been all but abandoned until this crisis passes." He seemed to hesitate before continuing.
"And then there is the question of Commander Brage... Ack, they have stripped him of that title but I use it yet... He killed his wife and children in a rage one night and all who saw him. Then he tore himself away and headed for the hills. He is out there still and still we mourn, as much for him as for those he's taken..." The soldier stepped aside to let them pass and lowered his head.
"Fie on you, now! You have brought tears to the eyes of a soldier!" he muttered as they passed him.
*-*-*
The Nashkel Inn was uncharacteristically full people that night. Not only the local's enjoying a mug of ale after a hard day of working at the field, but a rather noisy group of strangers as well.
"That's him!?" somebody hoarsely whispered to the petite woman sitting in the shadowy corner table. She turned and flashed a quick smile at the huge, bearded man pulling a chair to sit beside her.
"Yes. Gorion's ward." She remarked, watching the young brown haired man arguing with another, tattooed man in the large table at the center of the room.
"So." He looked at her quizzically.
"You would kill him." she answered. Not a question.
"Of course." The man flexed his gigantic muscles. "Even with this. this. while looking like this," he gestured at his own general direction disgustedly, "I could easily crush the life out of him and his pathetic companions."
"I know you could." She smiled at him reassuringly.
"Now is not the time, however. This fool is doomed anyway, and we do not need to dirty out hands." She stretched herself as she rose up from her chair, preparing to leave the inn.
The bearded giant also rose up and hastily shot a final glance at the other table.
"What if he survives through all of this?" he asked his pretty brunette companion.
She merely smiled at him.
*-*-*
Candlekeep.
It loomed in front of him, his home.
He saw his old window, a candle flickering and then dying.
He couldn't go back, no matter how much he wished. The gates were closed and the world was filled with darkness.
Suddenly, he saw his foster father in front of him!
Aidan was just about to call out to him, when he realized that it would be folly.
Gorion was a spirit, dead in this apparent dream as in life.
He turned and saw a wide and welcoming path in front of him. It seemed meant for him, and he felt something deep inside respond to this sight. He took a step towards it when he saw another path.
This new path led to the forest, and looked dangerous and hard to travel. Nevertheless, somehow Aidan realized that taking the easy choice didn't appeal to him. Gorion's spirit smiled at him and he felt his doubts ease.
Ignoring the pull in his very being, Aidan started towards the small, rocky road.
"This is a dream and I will wake up!" he said aloud.
Aidan opened his eyes, it was morning and he was lying in his bed at the Nashkel Inn.
Somehow a voice, unknown yet somehow familiar still lingered in his mind.
"You will learn."
Aidan shivered at the words.
*-*-*
"So now we're free of those two thugs." Jaheira stated, grim smile on her face.
After last nights argument, Montaron and Xzar had stormed off, vowing to meet Berrun Ghastkill alone.
Aidan too was glad to be rid of them. Traveling with such insane and dangerous companions was something he didn't wish to repeat in the future.
They were now sitting in the Belching Dragon tavern, waiting for Khalid who was shopping for a new armor. Aidan grinned at the thought, and fondled a ring on his finger. He had received it from Imoen, "a present" she called it. While the ring was quite pleasing to the eye, it was also enchanted. Imbued with protective magics, it was yet another addition to his defenses which already included the magical belt and his "Armor" spell.
As Aidan scanned the crowd for the umpteenth time, his gaze happened on a dapper looking man wearing a beret, enjoying a foaming mug of ale. Smiling gregariously, he motioned Aidan to join him.
"Greetings fellow traveler, for I see by your garb that you do not call this place home. Sit with me awhile, and enjoy the atmosphere of this fine fair while we recant tales of lands far and far-seeming." The man introduced himself to be none other than the infamous bar-room critic and sage, Volothamp Geddarm.
Aidan had heard of Volo before, Winthrop had accused him of spreading lies about his inn and Gorion had mentioned his name with some scorn, yet acknowledging his keen ear for knowledge and gossip.
"I have wandered the width and breadth of Faerun, but yet have I to find such hospitality, as that of a simple country festival." Volo continued.
"It's a shame that the festivities are marred by the events as of recent, though they certainly put up a brave face, do they not? You look confused, so perhaps you know not of the local trouble that continues to vex the most gracious people of Nashkel." He asked Aidan, rising his eyebrows in a theatrical manner.
"If you have just arrived I could, for the price of an ale and an ear, relate what I know. Shall I tell you of their mining difficulties, or relate the tale of their unfortunate commander of the guard?" he grinned as he drunk the last of his ale.
"My companions and I have an interest in the mines. Tell me what you know." Aidan answered him, motioning for the barmaid to bring up two more mugs of ale.
Volo waited until she brought him the mug. He drew a deep swig of the foaming brew, and begun to speak in a dramatic manner.
"The word is, that all across the expansive Sword Coast, from the Cloudpeaks to Baldur's Gate, an ore shortage is severely crippling local trade. Bandits -purportedly both human AND demihuman- raid caravans, whilst ore reaching its destination becomes brittle and useless following smelting, strangely afflicted by an odd, iron-weakening plague." Aidan had never heard of an plague that affected iron. Surely something unnatural was at work here.
"As though this were not cause for alarm in itself, production at the mine outside of Nashkel has fallen, with the substantially lower yields being blamed on nervous workers. Mysterious disappearances of several miners have set the whole area on edge, where something must shift the balance to one side, or the other." Volo finished, smiling at his ale.
Aidan saw that Khalid had returned, so he bid the roguish wizard goodbye and returned to his companions.
*-*-*
"Hello there! I recognize Jaheira in your group, so you must be the adventurers I was expecting." The old half-elf greeted the companions.
"I am Berrun Ghastkill, mayor of Nashkel, and I am happy to welcome you. I am sorry we had to meet under these circumstances." He shook each of their hands in turn.
Aidan was favorably impressed by the gray-maned old adventurer, who was also the mayor of Nashkel. Curiously enough, he didn't mention either Xzar or Montaron. Had the dynamic duo developed cold feet?
"W. w.whuwhat exactly is the trouble here?" Khalid asked the mayor with some difficulty.
"I can't believe you haven't guessed. Have you heard of the iron shortage?" the old warhorse asked him back, incredulously.
"Well, Nashkel is in the thick of it. Our mine is all but shut down because the workers continually go missing, and what ore we do get is tainted somehow. I would send in the town guards, but we need them to protect our citizens from the bandits that raid our caravans. We need you to find out what is wrong in the mines southeast of town." Berrun looked tired and worried as he finished.
"We will do what we can." Jaheira reassured him, bringing some life back into the old man's eyes.
"Thank you. You will be the toast of the town if you can help." He replied them, and smiled.
*-*-*
A window creaked open, and a small lithe form climbed rapidly out. The moon illuminated the manor house's yard, and the figure quickly took to the shadows, closing the window carefully first.
Imoen was exultant.
She had managed to grab all sorts of nice little valuable's from the place, both gold and jewelry. The others wouldn't approve, but she didn't expect them to.
Imoen giggled at the thought of Aidan trying to act disapproving and "adult" towards her. He had often tried to assume the older brother role, but her mischievous lack of respect for authority had doomed his efforts.
Now what was that?
She spied a small house, away from the main settlement, it's window invitingly open, yet dark. The thrill of sneaking in stole over her, and she decided that the night wasn't over yet.
Imoen stealthily crawled inside from the small window, dropping soundlessly to the floor with her catlike grace.
"Ohh! What am I DOING here!?" she silently berated herself. She had broken into some poor commoners house, and while certainly a thief, she was a kindly hearted young woman who didn't steal from as much greed than curiosity.
She was just about to turn back and climb out again, when she heard the soft weeping from the other room. The door was closed, but she could see that a candle was lit inside.
Imoen peered inside from the keyhole, and saw that there were two people in the other room. One was an old woman, soundly asleep in her bed, and the weeping was coming from a younger woman, in her late twenties and probably the relative of the sleeping woman.
Without much thinking, the soft hearted rogue opened the door, and gently coughed.
The woman turned, startled. "What are you doing in my house!" She demanded, looking frightened and angry.
"I, uh, heard crying and came to see if everything was okay." Imoen offered, applying her most disarming smile.
Surprisingly, the woman seemed to buy the explanation.
"I, uh, please be quiet. My mother is sick." She rose up and quickly brushed her eyes.
"It's just that my hus. Joseph, my husband, hasn't returned from the mines or sent any word. And with all those disappearances." she seemed ready to start crying again.
"Maybe I could help you." Imoen offered earnestly, for she had taken pity for the poor woman's plight.
"We're thinking of exploring the mines. Describe your husband for us, maybe we'll see him."
Hope lit up in the poor farmwife's eyes again.
"He's got black hair, blue eyes..." she began excitedly, then paused to think.
"Ohh damn, you'll never find him from that description. His name is Joseph, and he wears his wedding ring on his left hand. It's a greenstone ring."
Helping others in need was as exciting as any good heist for Imoen. She listened to the woman's descriptions and wished her good night.
Imoen could hardly contain her excitement, as she slipped in her bed.
Tomorrow they would depart for the mines.