Chaper 1
The Road Ahead
~*~ Terrence lay on his side, curled. The still, pre-dawn light came over the circles of stones, and a light breeze wafted the scent of scorched flesh and mail. The harsh scree of an eagle woke him, and he jerked to lay on his back breathing heavily, looking about.
This wasn't Candlekeep.
No it wasn't, it was a patch of woods half a day's walk from Candlekeep, and four days walk of the Friendly Arm Inn. It was reminiscent of a great battle of titans, it was-
Scree...
A battlefield.
Terrence's tanned face crumpled, and he pushed away some of the red, Medusa-locks hanging in his face, a lump in his throat. He needn't worried of having been seen by any one. He blended perfectly with the forest around him, with his clothes varied shades of green, the forest that was oblivious to all that had happened, and had to continued to sleep, as it always had.
Though, he did see a patch of beige lying amongst the stones, a patch of neutral tan that looked like-
Gorion.
Gorion's robes.
As Terrence felt a scream rip through his throat; it never made it. The pain in his shoulder preoccupied him too much. Blood and scorched flesh met his nose as he examined his shoulder, and he gagged. He decided not to look at his shoulder. It would be much better that way, thank you very much. He stood, tall body outlined in a golden hue. The robes were more visible, but were so very far away, and that was all that was left of him, a blood- stained corpse, that was all that was left of Gorion, master, father, and a tan robe-
"Heya, it's me, Imoen."
Laughter in the voice, unhampered, undisguised.
Terrence turned, tears streaming down his face, silent, just as the forest around him.
"Terrence?"
Imoen's narrow face lost it's laughter, and looked as if in fear. 'And why shouldn't she?' he thought, Terrence was practically her elder brother, always comforting her, and now he was in tears.
"Terrence?"
The name was repeated, as if she hoped it would convey some kind of wind blown magic to set things right.
His voice was hoarse and cracked, but it's youngness was not disguised. "Good morning Imoen. Did you sleep well?" The last words welled up in sorrow and loss, and Terrence's face twisted, as if in realization of what he had said to bring back what he knew would never again be. And he sprinted off over the grass, dodging the low sweeping branches of the furs, making his way towards the battle zone.
~*~
It began to rain. That was the final straw. First she had to see Terrence, one of her only friends, say the last goodbye to his own father, then they got attacked by a horde of filthy gibberlings, of which Terrence, who probably had an entire world of rage, hate, and grief pent up inside him, went berserk on the gibberly-bits or whatever they were and slaughtered them all, then they had to deal with two bizzare travelers who made less than savory remarks, so they left them be, lost their way twice, and just as they reached they Friendly Arm it began to rain.
Imoen looked up, her eyes squinting as she looked at the sky to avoid being blinded by raindrops. Correction. It began to pour. She looked over, feeling her anger build inside of her at the day's bizarre events, at Terrence, who's thick, curly, red hair was plastered against his forehead and neck. Over the torrent of rain she howled, feeling like a wet cat, "Terrence! What're we gonna do? It's raining, and you're hurt!"
Terrence looked over at the small, sopping wet form of Imoen, briefly illuminated by a jag of lightning. It may have been fall, but it had been hot enough to anger the clouds into a war with each other. "I don't know, Imoen. But Gorion told me to go to the Inn. So that's what I'm going to do." He had to shout to be heard. Imoen scrunched up her narrow face, but nodded.
The stone steps loomed ahead of them, looking more like a fortress than an inn. And a thin form of a man slipped down the step towards them.
"Hello, friend. Would you're name happen to be Terrence?"
Terrence looked at him from one eye, head cocked, one of the mannerisms he had adopted from Gorion. He still obviously remembered the man in Candlekeep in the house."Yes, what is it to you?"
The man, whom Terrence could see from the lights of the inn had a pale face with a beard, smile. "Good. I won't have to go looking for you." And with that, the man began to form an arcane symbol with his hands.
Terrence drew his sword, Imoen her short sword, and Terrence flung himself at the man.
Ten minutes later a bleeding and tired Terrence, with an anxious Imoen hanging on to him, dragged himself into the inn. A few people glanced up, then down. They probably saw the mage, probably even knew him, but dismissed him, and now knew the consequences.
At the back of the fire-lit inn, two armoured people stood at the bar, talking softly. There were plenty of other people of the same make and material, but Terrence, through his blurred vision, somehow knew it was these two. Jaheira and Khalid.
The looked up as they heard the heavy oaken door swung open, bringing with it the scent of rain and blood. They drew themselves into an attentive posture, a mark of seasoned warriors. He made his way to them, heavy boots thudding on the floor.
The woman, who now Terrence saw was half-elven, stepped forward first. She had a narrow face, with high cheek bones and plush lips, and skeptical eyes. The man stepped forward also, but stayed behind the woman, green eyes shining with the depth of forests. The woman's own ashen-blonde hair was contained beneath a helm.
"You are Terrence? Yes, you are. Gorion has told us much about you." A smile touched her lips, a perfect figure of the appraising parent as she suveyed him. "Good. A strong boy. A good warrior, no less?"
Terrence smiled a little through a bloody lip."Ranger."
"Ahhh, but Gorion has not told me how smart you are."
Terrence looked at her. Vixen. "Gorion said I was one of his best students, not to mention the best tracker he'd ever seen, Jaheira."
She smiled. That was it, to tell him she thought nothing less of him, and to accept him.
The man, most obviously Khalid, stepped out of the half shadow he was in. "J-Jaheira, m-mind your manners!" From a tall slender man, a stutter had erupted. Imoen, the first time, she peeked out from the shield she had made of Terrence and looked at him. Her curiosity was undisguised. He was wholesome looking in a human crossed with an elf sort of way. "Hey!"
Khalid blinked and looked to Terrence. "Wh-Who's this?"
Terrence gave Gorion's grin, then directed Imoen a scowl. "Imoen. She used to live at Candlekeep, too. She wasn't supposed to come, but..." He waved his hand in a vaguely explanitory gesture, here-she-is...
Jaheira shrugged. "One more good warrior to add to our menagerie." Imoen squeaked. "Me? No way! I mean, I can use a sword, but... Hm. Okay, one more it is!" Jaheira smiled.
Khalid cleared his throat,"I suggest you get some r-rest. You look as if you had a b-busy day."
Terrence nodded, then his expression stormed. "You really are Jaheira and Khalid, right?"
Jaheira looked at him, head tilted back, eyes narrowed. "If we weren't we could have killed you by now. And besides, who else here would have know you are the son of Gorion."
Terrence didn't argue any further. He couldn't, since he was feeling rather light headed, and the floor looked truly cool and comforting, and-
~*~
Khalid's face came into view. The helm was off, and his short, reddish locks were mussed from his helmet, elven features attentive and grave. Terrence felt something cool, wet and soft applied to his lip and the bump on his forehead.He tried a half smile, and Khalid relaxed visibly. "I-It just wouldn't do to have Gorion's boy d-die on us." Khalid smiled also, sponging away more blood from Terrence's lip. Beyond Khalid's turned back, he could hear the thudding boots of an anxious pacer. Probably Imoen, but she never really wore heavy boots. Maybe Jaheira? Terrence lifted his head fractionally. The room was lit by the dim glow of the fire, and Imoen's small, slender form was curled up on top of one of the beds. By the way her sides were expanding in a normal, slow rate, he surmised she was sleeping. Heavily. Beside him on the bed, Khalid shifted from his sitting posture, and turned to accept some grass-like herbs from Jaheira, folding them inside the cloth, and once again applied it to his forehead.
It was going to be a long night.
~*~
The common room of the inn was hardly occupied as Terrence clumped down the stairs. Jaheira sat in a chair leaning over the dregs of her tea, and Khalid was slumped in his own chair next to Jaheira, one hand up to his face, pinching his nose bridge. It looked like he was expecting the attack of a viscous, mace wielding migraine. Imoen was sprawled across the spindly thing she sat on. No matter how long he knew Imoen, he could never help but wonder how she managed to pull stunts like that. She was dangling a bacon strip in front of her open mouth, waiting for it to slow it's pendulous movement, head thrown back to the ceiling.
Jaheira looked up as she heard the young ranger's steps. A satiric smile crossed her face, and she pushed the chair opposite her out from under the table with her foot. "Ah, so you are awake, sleeping beauty. I suppose the knock on the head helped better than a sleeping draught, though." She gave a light slap with the back of her hand to Khalid's leather jerkin front, turning her attention back to her tea. He jumped, sitting up straight, and gave a wan smile. "Good m-m-morning. S-Sleep well?"
Terrence seated himself in the proffered chair next to Imoen. The fact that Khalid's stutter had grown more prominent hadn't escaped his notice. Something must be going on, or had gone on. Mentally, he winced. Damn him and his irregular sleeping habits. "Yup. You?"
Khalid gave him the same wry smile, not awnsering. At the sputtering sounds at the left of Terrence, he turned. Imoen was holding her slender neck, face red. She gave a violent cough, eyes watering, and a sheepish grin crossed her face. "Bacon's a killer. How'ya feeling?" Terrence tried to supress an amused grin and failed. The smile slowly seeped from his face as he contemplated her question.
"Yeah.... yeah, I'm just... great." He looked away, down at the table, tracing it's grains with one finger.
Jaheira glanced up from her tea, but said nothing. Silence lingered at their table, the bar-room silent.
Jaheira broke it first, "The road and the weather will not wait. Will you accompany Khalid and I to Nashkel?"
Terrence looked up, eyes taking in the two warriors. "Yes. Yes, I will. Are you coming, Im?" Imoen was busy gauging the distance between herself and a fat nobleman's purse. She whipped her head around as she heard Terrence speak. "Hunh? Oh!..... Uh, sure!"
Terrence smiled. The road ahead didn't seem as lonely as before, now.
~*~ Terrence lay on his side, curled. The still, pre-dawn light came over the circles of stones, and a light breeze wafted the scent of scorched flesh and mail. The harsh scree of an eagle woke him, and he jerked to lay on his back breathing heavily, looking about.
This wasn't Candlekeep.
No it wasn't, it was a patch of woods half a day's walk from Candlekeep, and four days walk of the Friendly Arm Inn. It was reminiscent of a great battle of titans, it was-
Scree...
A battlefield.
Terrence's tanned face crumpled, and he pushed away some of the red, Medusa-locks hanging in his face, a lump in his throat. He needn't worried of having been seen by any one. He blended perfectly with the forest around him, with his clothes varied shades of green, the forest that was oblivious to all that had happened, and had to continued to sleep, as it always had.
Though, he did see a patch of beige lying amongst the stones, a patch of neutral tan that looked like-
Gorion.
Gorion's robes.
As Terrence felt a scream rip through his throat; it never made it. The pain in his shoulder preoccupied him too much. Blood and scorched flesh met his nose as he examined his shoulder, and he gagged. He decided not to look at his shoulder. It would be much better that way, thank you very much. He stood, tall body outlined in a golden hue. The robes were more visible, but were so very far away, and that was all that was left of him, a blood- stained corpse, that was all that was left of Gorion, master, father, and a tan robe-
"Heya, it's me, Imoen."
Laughter in the voice, unhampered, undisguised.
Terrence turned, tears streaming down his face, silent, just as the forest around him.
"Terrence?"
Imoen's narrow face lost it's laughter, and looked as if in fear. 'And why shouldn't she?' he thought, Terrence was practically her elder brother, always comforting her, and now he was in tears.
"Terrence?"
The name was repeated, as if she hoped it would convey some kind of wind blown magic to set things right.
His voice was hoarse and cracked, but it's youngness was not disguised. "Good morning Imoen. Did you sleep well?" The last words welled up in sorrow and loss, and Terrence's face twisted, as if in realization of what he had said to bring back what he knew would never again be. And he sprinted off over the grass, dodging the low sweeping branches of the furs, making his way towards the battle zone.
~*~
It began to rain. That was the final straw. First she had to see Terrence, one of her only friends, say the last goodbye to his own father, then they got attacked by a horde of filthy gibberlings, of which Terrence, who probably had an entire world of rage, hate, and grief pent up inside him, went berserk on the gibberly-bits or whatever they were and slaughtered them all, then they had to deal with two bizzare travelers who made less than savory remarks, so they left them be, lost their way twice, and just as they reached they Friendly Arm it began to rain.
Imoen looked up, her eyes squinting as she looked at the sky to avoid being blinded by raindrops. Correction. It began to pour. She looked over, feeling her anger build inside of her at the day's bizarre events, at Terrence, who's thick, curly, red hair was plastered against his forehead and neck. Over the torrent of rain she howled, feeling like a wet cat, "Terrence! What're we gonna do? It's raining, and you're hurt!"
Terrence looked over at the small, sopping wet form of Imoen, briefly illuminated by a jag of lightning. It may have been fall, but it had been hot enough to anger the clouds into a war with each other. "I don't know, Imoen. But Gorion told me to go to the Inn. So that's what I'm going to do." He had to shout to be heard. Imoen scrunched up her narrow face, but nodded.
The stone steps loomed ahead of them, looking more like a fortress than an inn. And a thin form of a man slipped down the step towards them.
"Hello, friend. Would you're name happen to be Terrence?"
Terrence looked at him from one eye, head cocked, one of the mannerisms he had adopted from Gorion. He still obviously remembered the man in Candlekeep in the house."Yes, what is it to you?"
The man, whom Terrence could see from the lights of the inn had a pale face with a beard, smile. "Good. I won't have to go looking for you." And with that, the man began to form an arcane symbol with his hands.
Terrence drew his sword, Imoen her short sword, and Terrence flung himself at the man.
Ten minutes later a bleeding and tired Terrence, with an anxious Imoen hanging on to him, dragged himself into the inn. A few people glanced up, then down. They probably saw the mage, probably even knew him, but dismissed him, and now knew the consequences.
At the back of the fire-lit inn, two armoured people stood at the bar, talking softly. There were plenty of other people of the same make and material, but Terrence, through his blurred vision, somehow knew it was these two. Jaheira and Khalid.
The looked up as they heard the heavy oaken door swung open, bringing with it the scent of rain and blood. They drew themselves into an attentive posture, a mark of seasoned warriors. He made his way to them, heavy boots thudding on the floor.
The woman, who now Terrence saw was half-elven, stepped forward first. She had a narrow face, with high cheek bones and plush lips, and skeptical eyes. The man stepped forward also, but stayed behind the woman, green eyes shining with the depth of forests. The woman's own ashen-blonde hair was contained beneath a helm.
"You are Terrence? Yes, you are. Gorion has told us much about you." A smile touched her lips, a perfect figure of the appraising parent as she suveyed him. "Good. A strong boy. A good warrior, no less?"
Terrence smiled a little through a bloody lip."Ranger."
"Ahhh, but Gorion has not told me how smart you are."
Terrence looked at her. Vixen. "Gorion said I was one of his best students, not to mention the best tracker he'd ever seen, Jaheira."
She smiled. That was it, to tell him she thought nothing less of him, and to accept him.
The man, most obviously Khalid, stepped out of the half shadow he was in. "J-Jaheira, m-mind your manners!" From a tall slender man, a stutter had erupted. Imoen, the first time, she peeked out from the shield she had made of Terrence and looked at him. Her curiosity was undisguised. He was wholesome looking in a human crossed with an elf sort of way. "Hey!"
Khalid blinked and looked to Terrence. "Wh-Who's this?"
Terrence gave Gorion's grin, then directed Imoen a scowl. "Imoen. She used to live at Candlekeep, too. She wasn't supposed to come, but..." He waved his hand in a vaguely explanitory gesture, here-she-is...
Jaheira shrugged. "One more good warrior to add to our menagerie." Imoen squeaked. "Me? No way! I mean, I can use a sword, but... Hm. Okay, one more it is!" Jaheira smiled.
Khalid cleared his throat,"I suggest you get some r-rest. You look as if you had a b-busy day."
Terrence nodded, then his expression stormed. "You really are Jaheira and Khalid, right?"
Jaheira looked at him, head tilted back, eyes narrowed. "If we weren't we could have killed you by now. And besides, who else here would have know you are the son of Gorion."
Terrence didn't argue any further. He couldn't, since he was feeling rather light headed, and the floor looked truly cool and comforting, and-
~*~
Khalid's face came into view. The helm was off, and his short, reddish locks were mussed from his helmet, elven features attentive and grave. Terrence felt something cool, wet and soft applied to his lip and the bump on his forehead.He tried a half smile, and Khalid relaxed visibly. "I-It just wouldn't do to have Gorion's boy d-die on us." Khalid smiled also, sponging away more blood from Terrence's lip. Beyond Khalid's turned back, he could hear the thudding boots of an anxious pacer. Probably Imoen, but she never really wore heavy boots. Maybe Jaheira? Terrence lifted his head fractionally. The room was lit by the dim glow of the fire, and Imoen's small, slender form was curled up on top of one of the beds. By the way her sides were expanding in a normal, slow rate, he surmised she was sleeping. Heavily. Beside him on the bed, Khalid shifted from his sitting posture, and turned to accept some grass-like herbs from Jaheira, folding them inside the cloth, and once again applied it to his forehead.
It was going to be a long night.
~*~
The common room of the inn was hardly occupied as Terrence clumped down the stairs. Jaheira sat in a chair leaning over the dregs of her tea, and Khalid was slumped in his own chair next to Jaheira, one hand up to his face, pinching his nose bridge. It looked like he was expecting the attack of a viscous, mace wielding migraine. Imoen was sprawled across the spindly thing she sat on. No matter how long he knew Imoen, he could never help but wonder how she managed to pull stunts like that. She was dangling a bacon strip in front of her open mouth, waiting for it to slow it's pendulous movement, head thrown back to the ceiling.
Jaheira looked up as she heard the young ranger's steps. A satiric smile crossed her face, and she pushed the chair opposite her out from under the table with her foot. "Ah, so you are awake, sleeping beauty. I suppose the knock on the head helped better than a sleeping draught, though." She gave a light slap with the back of her hand to Khalid's leather jerkin front, turning her attention back to her tea. He jumped, sitting up straight, and gave a wan smile. "Good m-m-morning. S-Sleep well?"
Terrence seated himself in the proffered chair next to Imoen. The fact that Khalid's stutter had grown more prominent hadn't escaped his notice. Something must be going on, or had gone on. Mentally, he winced. Damn him and his irregular sleeping habits. "Yup. You?"
Khalid gave him the same wry smile, not awnsering. At the sputtering sounds at the left of Terrence, he turned. Imoen was holding her slender neck, face red. She gave a violent cough, eyes watering, and a sheepish grin crossed her face. "Bacon's a killer. How'ya feeling?" Terrence tried to supress an amused grin and failed. The smile slowly seeped from his face as he contemplated her question.
"Yeah.... yeah, I'm just... great." He looked away, down at the table, tracing it's grains with one finger.
Jaheira glanced up from her tea, but said nothing. Silence lingered at their table, the bar-room silent.
Jaheira broke it first, "The road and the weather will not wait. Will you accompany Khalid and I to Nashkel?"
Terrence looked up, eyes taking in the two warriors. "Yes. Yes, I will. Are you coming, Im?" Imoen was busy gauging the distance between herself and a fat nobleman's purse. She whipped her head around as she heard Terrence speak. "Hunh? Oh!..... Uh, sure!"
Terrence smiled. The road ahead didn't seem as lonely as before, now.