Dragonhunters chapter 2, a baldur's gate fanfic

Redleaf's Tale

With a quirky grin that reached all the way to his bright green eyes, Redleaf began to tell the Blades the short version of his life story. "My mother was the owner of a small tavern just outside of a druid grove not far from Unicorn Run," he said. "She was… well, to put it bluntly, a big slut. I had four brothers and five sisters, no more than two by the same father, and ranging in race from half-elf to half-orc, with one tiefling to spice up the mix. I had a weird, weird childhood."

He paused to take a huge gulp of wine straight from the bottle on the table at his side. "When I was ten-ish, mother got sick all of a sudden, and me being the oldest, I sorta got left in charge of things. So I decided to go to the druids for help. I think I wandered around in those damn woods for three days, no food no water, until I finally found the damn druid grove. I was a mess, all soggy –it had rained- smelly and snot-nosed, but the druids dried me off and asked what the problem was. I told 'em, and so we headed back to the tavern. We got there in time to find out my mother was dead, which really sent me through a loop I'll tell ya, and that she'd been that way since not more'n an hour or so after I left."

"What a horrible thing to have happen! Your poor brothers and sisters!" Aerie sympathized. "What did you do?"

"I'm getting to that part, sweet-cheeks," Redleaf told her. "Don't start feeling to bad for us orphans, 'cause there was some good news to go with the rotten. My dad, as it turns out, was one of the druids from the grove. He wasn't too happy to find out that he had a bastard half-breed son, but he was real civil about it, and not only agreed to keep me, but to keep the rest of the litter as well, even my half-orc sister (I can't explain her except to say mom musta been really drunk that night)." He took another swig of wine and continued. "So dad took me and the rest back to the grove and set about raising us up proper and druid like. Olia, the half-orc one, took to trees like a squirrel. Come to think of it, I think she can change into a squirrel now. Anyway, most of the rest of us got along with dad and nature pretty good. Except Denby, who wanted to be wizard, but every family tree has its screwy branches, huh? Me," and here Redleaf shrugged, "I couldn't've given a hoot about trees at first, except that dad liked 'em, so that meant they must be pretty good. So I started hanging on dad like a leech, trying to learn all there was to learn about druiding n'stuff. Eventually he got tired of that and pawned me off on some rangers, but for a while he and I were real close, whether he like it or not.

            "It was 'round then I got my name. See, I was named Melvin at birth, but even mom regretted that after she sobered up, so she always used to call me 'son' or 'kiddo.' I didn't even know I had a name until a tavern patron told me so one night when I was six or something. Basically, 'son' and 'kiddo' stuck around until dad had to introduce me to some guests.

            "'And this is my son… er… Red… uh… Red… leaf. Redleaf,' he said.

            "That was pretty much that, as far as my name was concerned. I have red hair, so that part worked, and 'leaf' sounded pretty druidy, so I liked it."

            "How did you end up with Bryseus and Hsanin?" Brynn asked.

            "Oh ho!" Redleaf laughed. "You'd never believe it."

            "I am having trouble believing that the grove even let you continue your druidic studies," Jaheira remarked acidly. The expression on her face was one of distaste as she added, "They must be an odd order indeed."

            Redleaf shrugged Jaheira's thinly veiled insults aside. "Eh, yeah, odd about covers it, but that's only 'cause me and the rest of the brats were there. They tried real hard to keep the lot of us in line, and they did it, for the most part. I was the single exception to that, unless you count Denby, which nobody does in this case. The guys in charge really irked me with their rules n'stuff. So I got out of the grove for a while on the pretext that I wanted to collect botany samples. I met up with Bry and Hsanin and Ash somewhere near Uluvin and said to myself, 'hey, these three look like a ton of laughs' so I hooked up with them, and the rest is, as they say, history." With that Redleaf downed half of the remaining wine in one big gulp, set the bottle down and let out a contented sigh. "Any questions?"

Hsanin's Tale

            There were no questions, and so Redleaf said, "So I guess I'll turn things over to Hsanin and let him tell his part of the story."

            Hsanin, frowned slightly and shifted in his chair. His dark hair fell over his grey eyes as he bowed his head and began to speak, his voice deep, pleasant, and calming. "Have you heard the tales of the heroes of Icewind Dale? Those who fought off the Legion of the Chimera and their predecessors?" He waited until he got confirmation that the Blades had indeed heard of the adventurers he was talking about before he continued. "The heroes of 1281 counted my grandparents among them, and those of 1312, my parents." He smiled softly. "You might say that adventuring is in my blood." Then his smile faded, and his eyes grew sad and serious. "So is tragedy. My grandparents and their companions disappeared while exploring an ancient castle, and my parents were assassinated as they slept.

Many have said that my parents should have taken more care to guard themselves, my father being a highly respected member of Lathander's clergy, and my mother a warrior of great fame. In my childhood I heard many whispers, quiet and not meant for my ears, that they should have known that the forces of evil wanted them dead, and if they had taken the proper precautions they would never have died as they did. I was only a baby when it happened, so I have no memory of that night. I only know what the priests who raised me told me. They say they came to visit my parents one morning only to find them murdered in their bed, and me wailing and hungry in my crib nearby. Because I had no other relatives, the church of Lathander in Waterdeep took me in and raised me. The priests who had known my parents filled my ears with tales of what they had done, and those who had known my grandparents did the same, but that was as close as I would ever come to knowing them myself.

My parent's companions visited sometimes, to look in on me and to reminisce with my guardians about times past. I enjoyed their company most times, and they always remarked how like my father I looked, and how like him I was in my manners and practices. I took after him in vocation too, and became a priest of Lathander. It was my calling, and unavoidable, I suppose, considering my situation and family history. The comparison with my father always remained though, and it was a difficult burden to bear the expectations of those who had known him.

Thus I grew up, the only child within the church, until one day when I ran, quite literally, into Bryseus here while I was on an errand in the city."

Bryseus' Tale

            "Mind if I take over here?" Bryseus asked, taking Hsanin's hand in her own and looking at him with brilliant blue-green eyes full of love and affection.

            "Go ahead, it is more your tale than mine from here on out anyway," Hsanin agreed.

            Bryseus smiled. "I'm not sure about that," she said, "but I'll let it go." She turned her smile on the blades and used her free hand to brush her blonde hair behind her ears before she began. "I don't know anything about my life before I was ten years old," she said. "I found myself wandering the streets of Waterdeep one summer morning knowing only my name and my age." She shivered slightly. "I don't know if any of you have ever experienced that sort of thing before, but I'll tell you anyway. It's like you're cut off from the whole world. Nothing means anything; it's all foreign and frightening and… well empty.

            "Hopelessly lost, I ran through the streets of Waterdeep, and when I was too tired to run anymore I walked, wandering aimlessly. Somehow I found myself in one of the bad parts of the city. Even Waterdeep has slums, though they are less obvious than those of say, Calimport or Luskan. I didn't understand what sort of place I had come to, though, and so I walked up to a man and asked him where I was, and crying, told him that I knew nothing of who I was or where I had come from. I chose the wrong man, and he grabbed for me, so I took off running again, now more terrified than ever. I burst from the dark alleys onto a main street, and tumbled into Hsanin. My pursuer must have vanished back into whatever hole he had crawled out of, because I didn't see any sign of him after that.

            "Hsanin questioned me, and then carried me back to the church; I was too tired to walk. The priests accepted me, choosing to raise me as they had Hsanin. It became clear though, that I wasn't the sort that was going to follow a cleric's path, and so I began training with a sword master, and developed my skill. It was strange… I seemed to already have a… a latent knowledge about fighting, but instead of clearing up my questions about my past, that only made them foggier.

            "Despite the fact that they had chosen to raise me, the priests of Lathander worked to find out who my family was, thinking only to keep me if they could not find my parents. When I was thirteen a couple came to the church in hopes that I was their missing daughter. Everything sounded right: half-elven, blonde hair, blue eyes, three-and-ten-years old, built small. Everyone had high hopes. I was afraid though. I couldn't help thinking that, if I was this couple's daughter, I might not be how they remembered me, that I wasn't who I was.

            "So I hesitated, not wanting to enter the room where they sat waiting for me. Hsanin found me there, and asked, 'Aren't you excited to meet your parents, Bryseus?'

            I answered, 'yes, but I'm afraid.'

            'Just be yourself,' he told me, putting both hands on my shoulders and smiling at me.

            'I don't know who I am!' I cried. 'How can I be myself when I don't know how to?'

            Hsanin pulled me into a hug and said, 'don't be silly, you know who you are! You're Bryseus, the best thing that ever happened to this temple, a girl with great potential as a warrior, and my best friend. You don't have to be who they remember, just be who you are now. If they don't love you because of it, that's their loss.'"

            Bryseus broke into a big smile. "I think I fell madly in love with him right then and there." Hsanin blushed and Bryseus continued her tale. "Despite all of our hopes, the couple that had come were not my parents. I don't think I'll ever forget the way they looked at me, so disappointed. The woman broke out in tears, and her husband comforted her, and crying too, I hugged them both and told them I was sorry I couldn't be their daughter for them. Eventually the three of us put ourselves back together, and that was the end of that. I told the head priest that I didn't want them to look for my family anymore, because the priests and Hsanin were my family as far as I was concerned. They accepted that, and life went on much as it had before, except that I never felt lost anymore.

            "The only thing on my mind was trying not to be too impatient to be twenty, when I would officially be an adult. There were two benefits of that, the first being I could pick up my sword and go check out the world, and the second being that I would be old enough to marry Hsanin."

            "I honestly had no idea that she felt that way until she proposed to me just after her twentieth birthday party," Hsanin commented. "I'd been growing more and more fond of her over the years, but I was ashamed to admit it. She is, after all, ten yeas my junior, and I'd know her since she was a child. I felt something like a dirty old man."

            "Cradle robber," Bryseus teased him affectionately. Hsanin blushed again. "Anyway, needless to say, all of those concerns did absolutely nothing to keep him from accepting, and we got married the next month. It was sort of funny to see the look on the head priest's face when we told him; it was like 'well, finally!'

            "We honeymooned in Neverwinter for a month, then prepared to go see the world. Hsanin stopped by one of the churches of Lathander there in order to notify the guys back in Waterdeep, and there we met Ashram, who was also heading out to see what good he could accomplish. He joined up with us, and we went on from there as a trio."

Ashram's Tale

            Bryseus turned her eyes on the unlikely paladin and Ashram returned her gaze with slight displeasure. "I assume you want me to tell of my history now?" he asked.

            "Not if you don't want to," Brynn spoke up, "but I am curious to know how a tiefling became a paladin."

            "As am I," Haer'Dalis agreed, his blue-gray eyes sparkling with good humor and curiosity.

"I understand," said Ashram, the expression on his pale face friendly but guarded. "I suspect that I ought to begin at the beginning of my life: my parents. My father was the one who carried fiendish blood in his veins, his grandmother was a succubus. My mother loved him despite his ever-changing nature, for she shared the same world-view as he: that life is meant for enjoyment, not for worries. Father was a retired adventurer, a sneak-thief and picker of pockets of some skill, who had turned his gift for making maps into a cartography shop and magic wares emporium. He was relatively successful, and he had a good name with many of the adventuring companies in the area due to the quality of his goods and the accuracy of his maps. He was able to copy a map down after having seen it but once, and he mapped most every tomb, crypt forgotten castle and dungeon that he had encountered in his career from memory. I remember watching him with a feeling of wonder as he worked, and he always would pause when I had a question. Despite his nature, he was a loving father. Mother was the same way, a kind, generous woman, who just so happened to also have a habit of putting her fingers in the pockets of others and then taking the gold she found there and giving it to whichever temple caught he fancy that day. She was not greedy, just mischievous and carefree. She told me many times, after I came home despondent after enduring the jeering and catcalls of my peers, 'Ashy, you're not a terrible boy, just a different one, and besides, red eyes are pretty on you. Those kids are just jealous because you're going to be a handsome man when you grow up and they're going to look like their ugly fat fathers and ugly fat mothers.' Thus I lived in relative comfort, despite the hatred of those around me."

Ashram's face grew dark, and his eye burned like embers beneath his ebony brows. "But, my peace and contentment was shattered violently on day when I was eight. My father had gained some enemies during his adventuring career, and one of them had become a high-ranked member of a mercenary company that had hired itself out as guards to a wealthy merchant in the city. When he heard that my father lived within Neverwinter, he devised a plan to ruin him, and to make him suffer. I do not know the exact details of what he did, but he raised a mob against my father and attacked him at the store. The mob pulled him into the street and beat him near to death, then dragged him up the stairs from the store to our home. My mother tired to block the door, but they burst through and seized her. While some held my father, others stripped and raped my mother. I cowered in a corner, fearful and sick, unable to move or do anything to stop what was happening. The mercenary then slit my parents' throats and grabbed me by the shirt and dragged me to their bodies. He pulled out his sword and prepared to slay me too, but at last my instincts returned to me, and I blinded him with magic, a gift of my heritage. I evaded the mob and leapt from the widow, landing almost uninjured in the alley beside my home. I fled then, and ran through the streets until I came to the temple of Lathander, which my mother had frequented often to give her stolen gifts, even though Lathander was not her patron god. She said she though He was 'too goody-goody' for her sour heart, but she like flowers and springtime and children, and the priests there were always kind to her. The priests recognized me, for my mother had taken me with her on occasion, and I say without pride that my face is not one that is easy to forget. Seeing the fear on my face, they asked me what the matter was, and I told them the entire, terrible story, or at least what I knew. The priests, enraged, then summoned the guard, but by the time they arrived my home had been set ablaze and the mob had vanished into the city. There was nothing to be done, save arrest the mercenary that had started the whole thing and punish him for his crimes and leave the men who had followed him in blind, prejudicial rage return the their homes, and their families to live out their lives in anonymity. I was angry about that for a time, but now I only pray that they at least feel guilt for what they did. My hatred of them has gone me, leaving only sorrow that this world can create such people.

Ashram paused and sighed before he continued again. "My mother's family wanted nothing to do with me, for they had disowned her for marrying my father and bearing, as they called me 'a demon spawn' child, and as for my father's parents, the priests were loathe to give me up to them, for though my father had not been evil, his parents surely were. So I became a ward of the church, and spent the rest of my youth there. Perhaps the priests saw in me a potential, or perhaps they only wanted to begin a grand experiment, but they took care to raise me well, and nurture the growing love for goodness and justice that was within my soul. I felt the call to become a paladin when I was but a boy yet, not even eighteen years of age, and the priests were quick to support me in my choice. They were ever my champions when society sought to label me as a demon, and for that I am grateful. When Bryseus and Hsanin arrived at the temple the priests urged me to travel with them, but I was hesitant, knowing that though the priests who raised me accepted me, Hsanin, a strange priest who had never met me, might not. I was pleasantly surprised to find that Hsanin and Bryseus both welcomed me with open arms and open hearts. They did look twice at me, at first, but I knew that it was merely surprise, and not revulsion, and I have to admit that I would react as they did, were I place in their shoes. Redleaf too, quickly became my advocate and staunch friend, and I will ever feel grateful for that friendship, for it helped me overcome many trials while I was adjusting to the world outside of my relatively sheltered temple. Particularly when we encountered the citizens of Uluvin, but that is Alysandyr's story, and thus I leave it to him to tell."

Alysandyr's Tale

            All eyes fell on the incredibly handsome bard who sat near Imoen, a contemplative look on his face. "Though I am a bard, a storyteller and entertainer by trade, I always find it hard to tell tale more moving than yours, my friend," Alysandyr said to Ashram, "but I will try my best, and hope my own tale of woe will work half as much magic upon these kind people as yours."

            He closed his eyes and bent his head, causing his white-blonde hair to fall over his face and obscure his pained expression. After a moment he raised his head again and looked up, his clear blue-green eyes filled with nostalgia and grief. "My story and Ashram's, though different, are also much the same, as is our heritage," he said softly. "I was born in Luskan to a tiefling mother who reviled her heritage, and so was thankful that I exhibited not outward signs of my fiendish blood. My father was thankful too, for he had been ostracized for his association with my mother, and the shame of a son whose tiefling lineage was visible for all to see would have been too much for him. That is not to say that he was kind to me, nor that he was kind to my mother. He vacillated between loving us and hating us. When he hated me he beat me to punish me for my tainted blood, when he loved me he apologized for the beatings.

"When I was thirteen my father and mother both stopped loving me forever. I showed signs of innate magical talents; signs of becoming a sorcerer, and so they put me on the street and disowned me. I wandered the streets of Luskan alone for months, until a troupe of players, led by a bard, caught sight of me singing for coins on the street. They saw that I had talent, though it was untrained, and took me into the fold. They trained me as a singer and an actor, and helped develop both my sorcery and bardic talents, and I traveled with them for five years, using my new skills on stage before crowds of people. Then I made a near-fatal error. Feeling at home, loved and accepted, I told one of my fellow actors of my heritage, and though the group attempted to keep it quiet, word leaked to the public, and suddenly people stopped coming to see my performances. The leader of the troupe came to me one night and told me that I had to leave, and so I packed up my belongings, and left with a heavy heart.

            "I traveled then to Uluvin, hoping to find a quiet home where I could settle down and forget my past. For some time I lived in the tavern in Uluvin, and worked there at night, entertaining for a pittance, glad only that I had a place to live where my talents were appreciated and I was not hated. I had learned my lesson with the troupe of actors; I kept my bloodline secret, and told no one, not even myself when I was alone for fear the wind would hear me and whisper the truth to all my new friends. After a time, with the help of the local sheriff, who had become my fast friend, I gathered enough coins to build myself a modest home. I became fond of the sheriff's daughter, Mirabella, and she of me. She often visited me, and came almost every night to hear me sing at the inn. We were to be wed in the spring of this year, my twenty-third.

"The night before our wedding I had an attack of conscience, and felt the need to tell her the truth of who I was. The look of disgust in her eyes when I told her sent dagger of pain through my very soul. She fled from me, and told her father what I had said, and he, the man who had been glad to call me son-in-law but moments before, rounded up the village guard and ousted me from my home. They told me I was no longer welcome in their village, and so for the third time in my life I packed what I could carry, and set off on the road, my heart broken far worse than ever before. It was on the road from Uluvin that I encountered four travelers, three of half-elven blood, and one tiefling like myself, with glowing eyes of red.

"Bryseus approached me first and asked, 'You look down, what's the matter?'

''Tis a long, sad tale, my lady,' I replied, 'and not one I have the heart to tell. The pain is too fresh in my soul.'

'Then come sit by our campfire,' said Hsanin. 'Eat with us, and rest. We can wait to hear you story until it wants to be told.'

'I would probably not be welcome,' I said. 'I have been unwelcome everywhere I have arrived ere today.'

'Don't be such a dumb clod!' Redleaf told me. 'I have a bottle of wine here with your name on it. Uh… what is your name?'

'Alysandyr Miron,' I told him, 'but it is inconsequential. I have troubled you enough, I will be on my way.'

'Sit down,' said Ashram in a commanding voice as he rose from his seat on a rock. 'Have you not heard the entireties of my companions? You are not troubling us friend, though we will not keep you if our presence is troubling you. At least put some warm food and good wine in you, like my friend Redleaf is offering, before you go. The night is chill, and it will do you no good to wander alone on an empty stomach.'

"At last their words won me over, and I sat and ate with them, thinking to be off as soon as I was finished, but I found them pleasant, and in my sorrow I longed for friendly voices to drown out the shouts of anger and hatred from the villagers that echoed in my head. I stayed and fell asleep between Redleaf and Ashram, the wine and food warm in my belly, and feeling peaceful despite the circumstances of my flight from Uluvin.

Morning came upon us and so did ten men on horseback from Uluvin who had come down the road to see if I had really left. They were angry to find me so close to the town and woke us all with angry shouts.

'What are you still doing here!' one of them demanded.

I sat up, stunned, and suddenly I found my new friends leaping to my defense. Redleaf, who had woken with me complained, 'Hey now! Can't a man get a good night's rest! I've half a mind to wrap your butts in vines and set you on fire. You're just lucky I wouldn't want to hurt the vines or horses like that!'

'Who are you?' another man asked roughly.

'Redleaf, a druid,' he replied grumpily. 'Who are you?'

'Aaron of Uluvin,' replied the man. 'And you'll thank me for waking you when I tell you that the man next to you is a tiefling!'

'Well, big whoop-die-do!' said Redleaf, still very grumpy. 'So is the man on the other side of him. Hey, Ash, wake up you lazy bum!'

Redleaf's angry words had woken the others by then, and they were sleepily getting to their feet.

'What's all the noise about huh?' Bryseus asked. 'I need my beauty sleep!'

            The men were now talking amongst themselves, shocked to find that Ashram was indeed a tiefling like me. 'Another one of them?' they asked each other. 'The evil bastards are everywhere.'

            'Hey!' Bryseus said indignantly, 'pay attention to me! Who are you guys, and what evil bastards are you talking about?'

            'The two men in your midst that are of fiendish ancestry,' said the leader of the Uluvin men. 'Alysandyr Miron is the name of one, and we don't know the name of the other yet.'

            'You mean Ashram?' Hsanin spoke now, incredulous, 'he's the farthest thing from evil!'

            'He's a paladin!' Bryseus added, looking like she was going to laugh at the men for their folly. 'Listen, why don't you just ride home like good idiots, and we'll forget this happened.'

            The leader bristled at that. 'We told Alysandyr to leave Uluvin last night, and we're going to make sure he does! And your other friend isn't welcome either!'

            'A paladin of Lathander isn't welcome?' Hsanin asked. 'As one of Lathander's clergy myself I happen to know that my church is welcome everywhere in lands where men have good hearts.'

            'You're welcome, and any paladin of your church is, but tieflings aren't!'

            'Well then you've just contradicted yourself, friend, for Ashram Abyssguard, yon tall, dark-haired man, is both a tiefling and a paladin devoted to The Morninglord.'

            'Silvanus' green bread! Next thing their going to say is half-elves aren't welcome!' exclaimed Redleaf. 'I'd have to set my weasel on them for that! Why don't you bumpkins go back to where you came from? This isn't Uluvin anyway, and I'd say Ally here wouldn't want to go back to your crappy little village if it were the last place on all of Toril with good booze!' he stuck his tongue out at them. 'Get out of here before I make your horses spook!'

            The men from Uluvin did not know what to do. At last their leader said, 'Just so long as you stay away from our town we'll be happy!' and with that they rode off.

            Redleaf made a rude gesture at them as the left. 'You don't have to worry about that, you filth-wallowing goblin-kin!' he shouted after them.

            When the men were gone, Ashram said to his companions, 'Thank you. I knew not what to say to those men to vindicate myself, and though perhaps you might have been less abrasive, Redleaf, your enthusiasm is appreciated.'

            'And I thank you too,' I said, able to speak at last. 'Never has anyone not looked at me with hatred when they learned my heritage, and for your kindness I am in your debt.'

            'Stuff and nonsense,' said Bryseus. 'You're a good guy, I can tell. Come on, let's get breakfast and get out of this rotten place. Like Red said, we wouldn't want to go to Uluvin anymore anyway.'

            'Not for all the sake in Kara-Tur,' Redleaf agreed.

            'I believe you mean, "tea,"' I said.

            Hsanin smiled and patted me on the back. 'He mean sake, trust me.'

            "So the five of us sat down to breakfast, the sun lighting up the landscape in lovely reds and gold before we set off to the west." Alysandyr sighed, stretched and grabbed Redleaf's wine bottle. He poured himself a glass as he said, "Now I believe only one of our number remains with her tale untold, sweet Anna, would you care to enlighten our friends, or shall one of us do it for you?"

Anna's Tale

            Brynn looked to the last stranger, a petite human woman with long ebony hair and dark grey eyes. She stood near the wall, leaning on her massive sword, which was fully one foot longer than she was tall, looking at Alysandyr with anything but a sweet expression.

            "I'd better tell it," said Anna Stormblade, "you guys would try to make it all dramatic like your own stories. I'll tell everyone right now that my life history ain't dramatic at all. I'm a pretty simple woman. I like swords, armor and gold in that order, and everything else is pretty much secondary. If I liked stones and gems as much I'd say I should've been born a dwarf. Anyway, I think all that's 'cause I was raised by mercenaries, but maybe not. You might also be wondering why I'm hauling around a fullblade; well it's not because my first kill was an ogre and I had to have his sword as a souvenir, or any dumb thing like that. I'm not sentimental like that. It's because they don't make toddler-sized longswords. Well they do, but they're called daggers, and when I was five I was damned if I'd use a pussy-weapon dagger to train with except to throw. I've got a real strong sense of propriety. Every other one of the Stormblade Mercenary Company used a longsword, so by Tempus, I wanted to too. Problem was I got used to the weight and the balance of a sword that was bigger than I was, and I didn't feel much like changing as I grew. I just made sure my sword grew with me. So now I've got a fullblade, and it don't take an ogre to wield one, or a hulking brute of a half-orc, just strong arms. Plus it makes people respect you more. People respect twenty-three pounds of steel even if a shrimp like me is wielding it. I really don't fit in well with this touchy-feely bunch of people, but really, aside from all the touchy-feely-ness me and Bryseus sort of think alike. Red and I both like ale. Ashram and I both like to kill evil things. Lathander's a good god, so far as I'm concerned, though He ain't mine, but Hsanin don't try to convert me or any stupid thing like that, so we get along just great. And Alysandyr, well sun and moon, look at him! He's a damn fine piece of man, he's got a great voice, a good personality, even if he is a little mopey about that dumb fiancée of his yet, any red blooded woman would want to have little demon children with him any day of the week, and I'm no exception. I'm just worried that that Uluvin bitch turned him into one of those men that likes men. It's usually the real good-looking, thoughtful ones that are like that, and bards are notorious for walking both sides of the street, if you know what I mean. There was a mage with the Stormblades, the merc company who raised me –hence the name…"

            "Wait," Imoen cut it, "You mean you were raised by the Stormblade Mercenary Company? The one that…"

            "…Got wiped out by a hoard of barbarians coming off The Ride six months back?" Anna finished for her. "Yeah, that's the one."

            "I heard that every last member was killed. How did you make it out alive?"

            "It's a real embarrassing story, but I trust you people not to tell the world. You're the sort that respects twenty-three pounds of steel, and even if I couldn't take you while you're awake, you got to sleep sometime." She gave them a very mercenary smile. "Like I said, the story of my life ain't dramatic. I was knocked out cold halfway through the battle and was left for dead by the barbarians. I woke up in the middle of my dead comrades, the only living thing for miles except the vultures. I looked around a little, cried my tears, picked up my sword and headed off. That's all there is to it." She stood away from the wall and balanced her sword over her shoulder with lazy grace. "Now if you don't mind all this chatter is giving me a headache, so I'm going to get something less girly to drink and then I'm going to bed. Alysandyr, you're welcome to join me. My headache ain't that bad. And as the guys always used to tell me, 'a good tumble makes everything feel better.'" With that, she walked out the door and down the stairs, leaving the Blades to ponder and Alysandyr to blush.

            "Is she always that… ah… b-b-blunt?" Khalid asked.

            "About the less socially appropriate aspects of life, yes," Hsanin answered. "But don't let her fool you; she's good at hiding her emotions."

            "We found her while she was 'crying her tears' after that battle six months ago," Bryseus said. "We were there helping the people keep the hoard back. We won the battle, but there were heavy casualties on both sides, barbarian, regular army and mercenary. The five of us volunteered to go out and look for survivors, and we found Anna all but incoherent, collapsed in the middle of the hacked up bodies of her friends. Lendel Stormblade, the man who raised her, he was lying across her lap and she was trying to get him to wake up. She either didn't notice, or didn't want to notice that his head had been split open by an axe or something. Poor girl was covered in blood and gore. Hsanin picked her up and I carried that behemoth sword of hers, and we went back to the camp. Between the three of them, Ashram, Redleaf and Alysandyr have been trying to help her through her grief, but she's been very distant about it. Every time she talks about it she gets like she was just now, and then she walks off, complaining of a headache or something."

            "She was raised by mercenaries. It's not exactly acceptable to cry in front of people in that sort of environment," Nalia commented.

            "Which is why we're trying to get her to understand that she can cry and feel grief for her friends," Hsanin said.

            "I would suggest you allow her get through this on her own," Jaheira said curtly.

            "Tried it," Redleaf told her. "First fight we got into with her with us was against some goblins that had the bad taste to ambush us while I was having my happy hour after we'd set up camp. She went into this crazy berserker fit and we had to sit on her until she was right in the head again. I tell you she's loopy from it all. I've pretty much given her up for Ally to deal with. She likes him best anyway."

            "A berserker?" Minsc asked. "Oh! Did you hear that Boo? We have little a student!"

            Aerie and Dynaheir let out a sigh of exasperation at the same time.

            "I guess I can sort of understand it a little," said Bryseus. "The fight against the barbarian hoard was her first real battle, and it would be pretty traumatic to wake up and find everyone you knew dead."

            "It was her first battle?" Brynn asked. "How old is she?"

            "Sixteen," Bryseus answered.

            Yoshimo raised an eyebrow. "She does not look it," he said. "I would have guessed that she was twenty at the least."

            "She's pretty grown up for her age," Bryseus said. "Again, I think it can be blamed on her being raised by mercenaries."

            "You can blame just about anything on mercenaries," Redleaf commented. He put his feet up on the table, knocking off some of the caked on mud. "But enough of this depressing stuff. Bry, go on and tell the nice folks why we're here, huh?"

            Bryseus sighed. "I suppose I ought to get to that part of it now." She took a sip of her ale to wet her throat and said, "Some friends of ours, another company we met after the battle where we picked up Anna, went after the dragon Balagos and never came back."

            "I do not find that at all surprising," Anomen remarked dryly. "Balagos has been the bane of caravans and adventurers in this region for centuries."

            "Right," Hsanin agreed. "We urged them not to go, but their leader, Lesley Surefoot, a halfling warrior, seemed convinced that he had the perfect plan to defeat the dragon and capture his treasure."

            "We've been hoping that Lesley and his men just didn't come back because they found something else to do," Bryseus continued, "but that's looking less and less likely every day that goes by. Before he and his men left, Lesley requested that we at least find out exactly what happened to them if they didn't come back, if not avenge them. We agreed, thinking that they would change their minds before they got to the dragon's lair and do the sensible thing and head home."

            "Actually, Bryseus agreed without consulting the rest of us," Alysandyr corrected. "Though, in her credit, the rest of us would probably have done as she did."

"I honestly thought they would turn around," Bryseus said.

"Apparently, they didn't," Ashram remarked dryly.

            "Apparently," Brynn agreed. "So what do you guys intend to do? You can't go after Balagos just the six of you. It would be suicide."

            "I know. We were thinking of trying to retrace Lesley's footsteps until he got to the dragon lair, and then see what could be done from there, but…" Bryseus shrugged. "Well, I'm not sure if even that's feasible. I'm really beginning to regret agreeing to Lesley's request."

            "So, what brings you to the Copper then? If it was to ask for advice I'd be glad to give it," Brynn told them. She looked Bryseus in the eyes and said firmly, "Don't go after Balagos."

            "No, it wasn't for that," Bryseus said, "I just wanted to see this place, and maybe meet you and the Blades. You guys are heroes after all, I sort of look up to you."

            "I see." It was far from the first time that the Blades had encountered hero-worshippers flocking to their doorstep and begging for help, wisdom, or just to gawk a little, but rarely did such attention come from normal –well, mostly normal- people like Bryseus and her companions. "That's all?"

            Ashram nodded. "Aye, my Lady, 'tis all we came for. It was more Bryseus' choice than mine or any of the others', but she has a mighty will, our lady of the swords, and we were loath to deny her pilgrimage."

            "Boy, you should've heard her on the way here," Redleaf chuckled. "'We've got to see the Blades, we've got to see the Blades!' On and on and on."

            Turning bright crimson, Bryseus said, "Yeah, so, anyway, we're in something of a dilemma. We can't fail to live up to our promise to Lesley and the guys, but then again we'd also like to live to see the next year."

            Brynn nodded. "I understand. Listen, why don't you and your friends get settled in, and we'll see if we can't think of something to do to help you out, okay?"

            "We really don't want to intrude any more than we already have," Hsanin told her. "I'm sure you have better things to be doing than helping us."

            "Don't be so sure," Imoen cautioned him.

            "Well… if you really want to…" Bryseus said uncertainly.

            "Yeah, we'll see what we can come up with. Get back to us in the morning about it."

            Taking that as their cue to get out, Bryseus, Ashram, Hsanin, Redleaf and Alysandyr joined Anna down at the bar to pay for their rooms and then retired for the night.

            The Blades, however, stayed up a little later.

            "Anyone up for dragon slaying?" Brynn asked, grinning.

            "Just a moment, Brynn," Jaheira cut in before anyone could answer, "think this through for a moment. We cannot get wrapped up in every plot and adventure in the region."

            "We're not wrapped up in any plots right now!" Brynn argued.

            "I believe, love, that that is Jaheira's point," Yoshimo said. "We may need to hang up our swords for a time. Only the undead do not rest."

            Minsc stretched his mighty arms and said, "I am never too tired to slay evil dragons."

            "Nevertheless," Jaheira said, "some of us are."

            "Well, not all of us have to go," Brynn pointed out. "I could take a small group and between us and those new guys we'd have little trouble."

            "I would throw my hat in to the ring," Haer'Dalis said. "Ne'er have I been bored for want of danger, and ne'er shall I be if I continue in your company, my raven."

            "Well, we've got a spellcaster of sorts then, and me, any one else want to go along?" Brynn asked.

            "I will go, my lady," Anomen said. "I dare say my magic and skill in battle will be needed on this quest."

            Haer'Dalis muttered under his breath, "What skill in battle?" earning a dark glance from Anomen and a sharp kick in the ankle from Brynn.

            Nalia smiled apologetically to Brynn and said, "I've got things to be doing here, and I need a break, otherwise I'd be all for going with you."

            Brynn gave her an understanding look. "Don't feel bad about it," she told the young mage.

            "I'd like to g-go," Khalid spoke up. That earned strange looks from the rest of the Blades, and feeling the need to explain himself Khalid said, "I don't want to fight so m-much as I'm c-curious about these strangers. Especially the paladin."

            "I am staying," Jaheira said. "No doubt the grove is in need of some sort of assistance. And I will not travel with that foul-mannered idiot that claims he is a druid." She added several unpleasant things about Redleaf under her breath before crossing her arms over her chest and regarding the whole group with angry eyes, as if she were daring any one of them to argue with her.

            "All right," Brynn said simply. "Aerie, I take it you want to stay here and catch up with your uncle and the others?"

            Aerie nodded. "I would. If you don't mind, that is," she replied shyly.

            "Not at all," Brynn assured her.
            Minsc looked absolutely forlorn. "But… but… without my witch I can't go slay the dragon!"

            "Ease thy mind, Minsc, I will be going with Brynn as well. Thou will join me," Dynaheir said. "Aerie can take care of herself while we are away. Is that not correct, young one?"

            "That's right!" Aerie chirped. "Go have fun Minsc."

            Minsc beamed.

            "I'm going too, sis," Imoen put in. "I'm not going to say it's going to be fun all the time, but it'll at least be something to do. Besides, a dragon's hoard is nothing to turn your nose up at. He'll probably have a lot of magical items, not to mention more gold and gems than we can carry."

            "Imoen, since when have you been so greedy?" Brynn asked jokingly.

            "Since I could walk," Imoen replied. "I just also happen to have a soft heart, and that interferes with my accumulation of wealth."

            "Yoshimo?" Brynn inquired, smiling at her beloved bounty hunter.

            "Of course I intend to go," Yoshimo told her. "Someone has to pull your butt out of the fire."

            "Of course," Brynn echoed. "So I guess that's all settled then. I'll tell our new friends the decision tomorrow, and we'll make plans from there."

            Everyone agreed on that, and at last the Blades retired to their respective rooms to get a good night's sleep.

To Be Continued

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Author's Notes:

            Yes, Khalid is going somewhere without Jaheira.

The Blue Sorceress