Disclaimer: I. Did. Not. Have. Sexual. Relations. With that woman
Monica Louinski...
Hello there avid reader. I was just Mixing together some orange pekoe and earl grey to see what it would taste like. Of course, orange pekoe is really the standard for tea, so it seams you can mix it with anything. Anyway, just got off work, which is good, because every time I go in I feel like it's five minutes till I can leave.... and the time goes by so painfully slow. So, as I was slaving away like any disposable white boy, I continued to refine the story that at least two of you actually enjoy reading. The other twenty do it as a hobby. Oh... and I think somewhere along the line I may have to change the rating of this story to R or NC- 17.... don't know. public opinion will tell, methinks.
-------------------
Chapter 3
The start of a new life
An hour or three had passed since the sun had died on the western horizon. Life went on as usual, and the city of Athkatla fell into slumber. Few were awake at this hour. Shadow Thieves, for the most part, as well as the Amnish night watch. The occasional merchant or drunkard would walk the streets, but for the most part Athkatla was dead. Life as usual. In the slums, the stench of rotten fruit mingled with that of animal feces. The buildings appeared to be leaning upon each other, and in the night they looked like crooked teeth against the starry sky. A shadow thief happened to be scaling the rooftop of one such building when he stopped to spare a glance at the gigantic orb that resided not too far off. A magical thing, and thus, none of his concern. The Planer Sphere was everything that a Shadow Thief should be afraid of, the epitome of a wizard's stronghold. He fervently wished the damnable thing had never arrived.
**********
Kincaid strolled across the steel catwalks that encircled the Sphere's dead Core. Pausing here and there, he stooped to examine it's fleshy parts. He straighten and scratched his chin at one point as he came across a blacked orifice wish ashes still clung to it.
"Lavok, you insane gibberling... how did you do it? How did you not kill yourself in the process?" He wondered aloud, bending to examine a part where the organic and metallic materials merged. He shook his head and exited the room, walking through the adjacent Fire Room that he had redesigned to be a forge. He was glad he had shed his clothes in the room beyond, as the intense head bombarded his skin. Not too uncomfortable, though.
"Finished?" Asked a feminine voice not too far away as he left the Fire room.
"Hmm? Oh... yes. I know how to fix it." He responded quietly, not breaking his stride or looking for the speaker.
"And?"
"Let's just say that a little wish can go a long way." Kincaid smiled. A long way indeed. Far from Athkatla.
"Indeed? Well, it can wait at least." The voice whispered teasingly into his ear. It's owner wrapped her dark arms around his waist, preventing him from going any further. Those blue-black hands crawled up his chest in small, vague circles. Kincaid straightened as he felt her press her body against his, realizing that she wore no more then he did. Namely, nothing at all. Her nails lightly scrapped against his skin, making him shudder.
"We... really should get this thing moving..." He started to say, but his words ended in a low growl as Viconia bit into his neck. Kincaid's head lolled back and the rest of his breath left his grinning mouth with a sigh. "That's... really not fair, look you.... hey! I didn't say stop."
"I've been wanting to get you alone, my m'rann d'sinn's. No one can bother us now." The drow whispered before renewing her biting with vigor. The helpless human fell to his knees. Looking up, Kincaid reached up and took hold of his lover by the hair on the back of her head, pulling her down for a kiss. Their lips met with fiery passion. Her tongue invaded his mouth and he welcomed it, responding with his own tongue. The two held the kiss for several minutes before finally coming up for air.
"When you're right, you're right." Kincaid breathed after catching his breath. "The wish can wait."
Kincaid turned and looked at her. His eyes scoured her perfectly shaped body, and he stared for several moments in awe, as he always did. He reached up and to a lock of her silken white hair in his hand. Beautiful.
Viconia's eyes darkened with desire. Now they were alone. No noisily snoring companions but yards away, or sleeping in the next room. Certainly no need to keep this quiet. The thought brought a grin to the dark elf's face and she bore down on the awe-struck human with a fervent passion that promised that an end would be long in coming.
***********
The shadow thief jumped from one rooftop to the next. He carefully landed so as to make as little noise as possible, adjusting the sack of stolen goods over his shoulder. Pausing to rest for a moment, he cast a glance offer his shoulder. The horizon was just barely starting to lite, dawn would come within the hour.
More quickly now, the thief padded silently from one rooftop to another. As much as he hated to rob from the poorer folk who lived in the slums, the rich side of town was particularly well-guarded tonight. The thief remembered well what Aran Linvail had once consoled him on, regarding thievery. 'All the gold in the world won't buy back your life if you get killed. Remember that well and be reasonable."
Still, all-in-all this had been a slow night, and Garret had only a few copper and silver trinkets to show for it. A few useful items aside, it was barely worth the effort. The thief yawned and shook his head to clear his blurring eyes. Had he been more observant, he might have noticed a soft glow begin to envelop the Planer Sphere, which he had avoided. The glow spread to envelop the entire structure, raising in brightness until it reached it's peak. For but a heartbeat, the Sphere shined like a star. The next instant, the light was gone, and the Sphere with it. Where it once stood, there was only a sphere-shaped outline in the buildings it had originally phased into.
Garret yawned again and shifted the sack to his other shoulder before continuing his trek towards the Docks District.
***********
Imoen stretched and more or less fell out of bed. She landed on a very soundly sleeping dark-skinned ranger and effectively woke him up, though just barely. He protested impressively well for one as disoriented as he was. The young mage scrambled to her feet and fought hard to stay there, light-headed as she was, as well as suffering from a hangover. Valygar simply rolled onto a more comfortable spot on the floor and didn't move.
"Tcheh... alright.... gotta wake up Imoen... time to save the world from itself or some bother..." The young woman told herself as she stumbled about the tiny room, finally leaning over the small desk for support while she collected her wits. "Hmm... I'll make a note.... first wake up, then get up... not other way around..."
Again Imoen stretched, then shook her head in an effort to rid herself of that annoying headache. She looked around and her eyes fell upon Valygar, who had resumed his snoring. She sighed and knelt down beside him, swatting him playfully, "Wakey wakey. That means you too, you lug!"
Valygar feebly warded off her well-meaning attacks and hauled himself up to sit with his back to the wall. The rubbed his face sleepily for some time before slowly opening his eyes. Those eyes widened as he saw that he was wearing but a few articles of what looked like women's clothing. When he looked up, seeking answers, he gaped at seeing Imoen, naked as she usually slept (luxury permitting) kneeling over him.
Concern flashed in the woman's eyes and she reached out to hold his head in her hands. "Are you alright Val? You seem... ill or something."
He snatched her wrists and gently warded them off. "I'm... fine... Uh... I... I think." The ranger stammered.
Imoen cocked her head to one side and looked him over. "Alright, if you say so. But you still have to get up." She smiled and gave the man another swat before standing and scanning the room for her clothes. Valygar caught himself staring and hastily looked away. Reddish-pink, he thought, hmm... natural color...
"So... Imoen... Could you help me out here? What... what exactly happened last night?"
Imoen favored him with one of her more cheerful expressions, "Hm? Oh... you passed out."
If it were possible, Valygar would have paled.
"What's wrong?" Imoen asked while she pulled on her leggings.
"That... sounds worse." Valygar managed to get to his feet. He made to steps for the door before he had to stop to cover himself. "Uh... I don't suppose you have anything I could wear?"
"Hm?" Imoen looked up lazily as she slipped her tunic on, taking a few moments to adjust it before heading out the door. "I think Jaheira still has your clothes, wait here, I'll go get them."
Valygar choked. "Ja... Jaheira?! What happened last night?!"
************
Meanwhile a very surly, very hung over dwarf walked, or rather stumbled from one pile of rubbish to the next. Every now and then the hapless Korgan would stumble and fall, breaking something open with his head, which actually seemed to ease the pain from his headache momentarily, though it would only renew it's relentless assault with more power then before.
The dwarf made a sound that was like a whimper and a growl put together. Normally, as per normal for a dwarf, he experienced no after-affects from over abuse of alcohol, but this wasn't one of those times. Every step sent another knife of pain into his head. He walked with his eyes closed, not wanting to bear the painful brightness the the early morning sun. His rough hands gripped his forehead, yet brought no comfort. Finally, he stumbled and fell on something that his hard head did not break. Opening his eyes he saw... stairs. Curious, the dwarf squinted up into the basted bright sunlight.
A gnome, cup in hand, was standing at the top. The distinct smell of turnips filled the air.
"You know, you're the spitting image of uncle Gearheart after the second annual turnip festival. A few too many fermented turnip pies with albacarro or ginseng root and he was wandering around in circles sputtering what sounded like pig-elvish. Mind you we were all very grateful that no elves were present at that time, though a surprising number of dwarves showed up. Good thing, too. After uncle Scratchy finished the rest of the..."
"Will you ever shut yer dung-blasted hole?" The surly dwarf growled into the stairs.
Jan Jansan raised his eyebrows in surprise and took a moment to sip his tea. "Well... I must say, uncle Scratchy made a few comments about my personal hygiene, though I don't think it has deteriorated to that level. Fortunately I have just perfected a rather potent turnip-flavored mouthwash. Though if what you say is true, then maybe it could use a little work. Perhaps if you would be so kind as to..."
"Stop.... SPEAKING....." The dwarf sat on his haunches, holding his aching head while he waited for the firestorm within to settle down.
"Ohh.... I see. You know, I have just the thing for you. Ma always brewed up some of this after one of uncle Gearheart's drinking binges, though hers always tasted sour after a good meal of apple and turnip soup. Maybe it would have to do with the angle-root that she adds, though I always thought that if you..."
Korgan barely managed a low growl to silence the diminutive talking machine.
************
The Copper Coronet.
Minsc busily sorted through the equipment he and his friends had compiled together. Their most prized magical possessions no longer worked, unfortunately. Defeating Amylessan (Who's name defies spelling) within the Abyss sent something of a magical backlash throughout the area. Being so charged up with magical energy, her death could cause no less. All but a few of their magical items had died at that moment. Kincaid, however, did have to foresight to store their excess equipment in a safe place.
Minsc let out a cry of triumph as he fished out a large, two-handed sword from the pile.
"Ah-hah! You were right, boo. This one still works, good thing. Evil shall be running with it's pants pulled down around it's ankles thanks to Minsc's new belt-cutting blade of justice."
"Ohh.... great. Now I have to be paired with this moron again. Hey! Why don't you do me a favor and polish me?" The sword, Lilarcor, grumbled in return.
Minsc looked taken aback. "Boo wants to know, why are you so edgy this morning?"
Jaheira entered then, resplendid with a new change of clothes. Imoen followed shortly thereafter, and then Valygar, who glanced nervously around. The half-elven druid wasted no time in helping herself to a fresh salad, with some small amounts of meat, as well as a tall glass of water. Imoen took a nearby table and bade Valygar to join her, but the ranger shook his head as if to say 'In a moment'.
He caught site of Hendak and made his way to him quickly. Pulling him aside, he asked. "I.... seem to have a problem remembering last night.."
The Northman grinned, "Oh! Zat's becauze you blacked out like a snuffed candle. Fell like yon heavy log. You did a bit too much celebrating last night, eh?"
Valygar cast a nervous glance back towards Imoen, who was ordering her breakfast. "Oh..."
"Ze girl dragged you upstairz, remember. I swear, next time I won't serve ze strong drinks. Here, I'll make some Calimshite coffee for you two."
Valygar nodded his thanks and took his awaiting seat. Imoen, busily sharpening the Pixie Prick dagger, smiled up at him. "Feeling better?"
The Ranger favored her with a withering look, but said nothing. One barmaid, her eyes still sleepy, handed them both their drinks. Valygar graciously appraised the dark, strong liquid by tossing the whole thing back, ignoring the hot, scalding pain as he swallowed.
Imoen raised and eyebrow as she quietly took a sip. "Now, feeling better?"
Valygar nodded and the two began to make light conversation. Then the Ranger noticed that Jaheira had finished her food, but was staring off into space, obviously troubled with something. Nodding his head in her direction, he asked, "What's wrong with her?"
Imoen politely thanked the barmaid as she handed her her plate. Spare ribs with Hendak's special mild-spicy Northman sauce, and soup on the side. She hesitated before answering, troubled as well. "Jaheira was informed by way of a Harper's Sending (Magical means of communication).... someone was killed last night. It's... not the murder so much as...." Imoen paused, picking at her food but not bothering to eat. When Valygar pressed her to continue, she sighed. "The killer made a circle of bloody tears around the body."
Valygar sat back in his chair, almost blown over by the sheer exasperation he felt. When he thought it was finally over.
"The Symbol of Bhaal...."
--------------------------
Well... I know it's not a great progression, here. But you have to understand, writer's block is a terrible illness. So please, give to the dislexic with tea foundation and hope that one day, we will find a cure for writer's block. Just call the toll-free number on the bottom of your screen and we will send you the name, photo, and personal history of someone who is affected by this horrible disease.
Say! I bet I could make a lot of money if I made a bet that someone would write a fanfic for Final Fantasy X that involves Tidus coming back! Hmm.... no... either it's already been done or no one would take that bet. But Damn..... I haven't gotten emotional over a video game since Xenogears.... must be something in the tea.
I'm sure glad I have that spell-fixer-thingey program, because my hands are shaking more then a girl's vib---- On to the next topic!
Snake, you remember that oil tanker sinking two years ago? Oh, wait, nevermind. Up late, you see, but at least I don't have work tomorrow. Should go down to the store to pick up more tea. But then, I can't ring the bell, obviously, because the next door neighbor has too many pancakes. This makes it hard to eat ice cream while skiing with seventeen journals. I need scissors! 61! Raiden! You must c-continue your m-mission.
Fun Fact: The chair you are sitting on has been farted upon by no less then twelve people. Will continue to write with chapter 4. Please read and review, then re-read. There will be a test on this, Tommy! I know you're not sick; you ARE going to school today. AH! No buts!
Hello there avid reader. I was just Mixing together some orange pekoe and earl grey to see what it would taste like. Of course, orange pekoe is really the standard for tea, so it seams you can mix it with anything. Anyway, just got off work, which is good, because every time I go in I feel like it's five minutes till I can leave.... and the time goes by so painfully slow. So, as I was slaving away like any disposable white boy, I continued to refine the story that at least two of you actually enjoy reading. The other twenty do it as a hobby. Oh... and I think somewhere along the line I may have to change the rating of this story to R or NC- 17.... don't know. public opinion will tell, methinks.
-------------------
Chapter 3
The start of a new life
An hour or three had passed since the sun had died on the western horizon. Life went on as usual, and the city of Athkatla fell into slumber. Few were awake at this hour. Shadow Thieves, for the most part, as well as the Amnish night watch. The occasional merchant or drunkard would walk the streets, but for the most part Athkatla was dead. Life as usual. In the slums, the stench of rotten fruit mingled with that of animal feces. The buildings appeared to be leaning upon each other, and in the night they looked like crooked teeth against the starry sky. A shadow thief happened to be scaling the rooftop of one such building when he stopped to spare a glance at the gigantic orb that resided not too far off. A magical thing, and thus, none of his concern. The Planer Sphere was everything that a Shadow Thief should be afraid of, the epitome of a wizard's stronghold. He fervently wished the damnable thing had never arrived.
**********
Kincaid strolled across the steel catwalks that encircled the Sphere's dead Core. Pausing here and there, he stooped to examine it's fleshy parts. He straighten and scratched his chin at one point as he came across a blacked orifice wish ashes still clung to it.
"Lavok, you insane gibberling... how did you do it? How did you not kill yourself in the process?" He wondered aloud, bending to examine a part where the organic and metallic materials merged. He shook his head and exited the room, walking through the adjacent Fire Room that he had redesigned to be a forge. He was glad he had shed his clothes in the room beyond, as the intense head bombarded his skin. Not too uncomfortable, though.
"Finished?" Asked a feminine voice not too far away as he left the Fire room.
"Hmm? Oh... yes. I know how to fix it." He responded quietly, not breaking his stride or looking for the speaker.
"And?"
"Let's just say that a little wish can go a long way." Kincaid smiled. A long way indeed. Far from Athkatla.
"Indeed? Well, it can wait at least." The voice whispered teasingly into his ear. It's owner wrapped her dark arms around his waist, preventing him from going any further. Those blue-black hands crawled up his chest in small, vague circles. Kincaid straightened as he felt her press her body against his, realizing that she wore no more then he did. Namely, nothing at all. Her nails lightly scrapped against his skin, making him shudder.
"We... really should get this thing moving..." He started to say, but his words ended in a low growl as Viconia bit into his neck. Kincaid's head lolled back and the rest of his breath left his grinning mouth with a sigh. "That's... really not fair, look you.... hey! I didn't say stop."
"I've been wanting to get you alone, my m'rann d'sinn's. No one can bother us now." The drow whispered before renewing her biting with vigor. The helpless human fell to his knees. Looking up, Kincaid reached up and took hold of his lover by the hair on the back of her head, pulling her down for a kiss. Their lips met with fiery passion. Her tongue invaded his mouth and he welcomed it, responding with his own tongue. The two held the kiss for several minutes before finally coming up for air.
"When you're right, you're right." Kincaid breathed after catching his breath. "The wish can wait."
Kincaid turned and looked at her. His eyes scoured her perfectly shaped body, and he stared for several moments in awe, as he always did. He reached up and to a lock of her silken white hair in his hand. Beautiful.
Viconia's eyes darkened with desire. Now they were alone. No noisily snoring companions but yards away, or sleeping in the next room. Certainly no need to keep this quiet. The thought brought a grin to the dark elf's face and she bore down on the awe-struck human with a fervent passion that promised that an end would be long in coming.
***********
The shadow thief jumped from one rooftop to the next. He carefully landed so as to make as little noise as possible, adjusting the sack of stolen goods over his shoulder. Pausing to rest for a moment, he cast a glance offer his shoulder. The horizon was just barely starting to lite, dawn would come within the hour.
More quickly now, the thief padded silently from one rooftop to another. As much as he hated to rob from the poorer folk who lived in the slums, the rich side of town was particularly well-guarded tonight. The thief remembered well what Aran Linvail had once consoled him on, regarding thievery. 'All the gold in the world won't buy back your life if you get killed. Remember that well and be reasonable."
Still, all-in-all this had been a slow night, and Garret had only a few copper and silver trinkets to show for it. A few useful items aside, it was barely worth the effort. The thief yawned and shook his head to clear his blurring eyes. Had he been more observant, he might have noticed a soft glow begin to envelop the Planer Sphere, which he had avoided. The glow spread to envelop the entire structure, raising in brightness until it reached it's peak. For but a heartbeat, the Sphere shined like a star. The next instant, the light was gone, and the Sphere with it. Where it once stood, there was only a sphere-shaped outline in the buildings it had originally phased into.
Garret yawned again and shifted the sack to his other shoulder before continuing his trek towards the Docks District.
***********
Imoen stretched and more or less fell out of bed. She landed on a very soundly sleeping dark-skinned ranger and effectively woke him up, though just barely. He protested impressively well for one as disoriented as he was. The young mage scrambled to her feet and fought hard to stay there, light-headed as she was, as well as suffering from a hangover. Valygar simply rolled onto a more comfortable spot on the floor and didn't move.
"Tcheh... alright.... gotta wake up Imoen... time to save the world from itself or some bother..." The young woman told herself as she stumbled about the tiny room, finally leaning over the small desk for support while she collected her wits. "Hmm... I'll make a note.... first wake up, then get up... not other way around..."
Again Imoen stretched, then shook her head in an effort to rid herself of that annoying headache. She looked around and her eyes fell upon Valygar, who had resumed his snoring. She sighed and knelt down beside him, swatting him playfully, "Wakey wakey. That means you too, you lug!"
Valygar feebly warded off her well-meaning attacks and hauled himself up to sit with his back to the wall. The rubbed his face sleepily for some time before slowly opening his eyes. Those eyes widened as he saw that he was wearing but a few articles of what looked like women's clothing. When he looked up, seeking answers, he gaped at seeing Imoen, naked as she usually slept (luxury permitting) kneeling over him.
Concern flashed in the woman's eyes and she reached out to hold his head in her hands. "Are you alright Val? You seem... ill or something."
He snatched her wrists and gently warded them off. "I'm... fine... Uh... I... I think." The ranger stammered.
Imoen cocked her head to one side and looked him over. "Alright, if you say so. But you still have to get up." She smiled and gave the man another swat before standing and scanning the room for her clothes. Valygar caught himself staring and hastily looked away. Reddish-pink, he thought, hmm... natural color...
"So... Imoen... Could you help me out here? What... what exactly happened last night?"
Imoen favored him with one of her more cheerful expressions, "Hm? Oh... you passed out."
If it were possible, Valygar would have paled.
"What's wrong?" Imoen asked while she pulled on her leggings.
"That... sounds worse." Valygar managed to get to his feet. He made to steps for the door before he had to stop to cover himself. "Uh... I don't suppose you have anything I could wear?"
"Hm?" Imoen looked up lazily as she slipped her tunic on, taking a few moments to adjust it before heading out the door. "I think Jaheira still has your clothes, wait here, I'll go get them."
Valygar choked. "Ja... Jaheira?! What happened last night?!"
************
Meanwhile a very surly, very hung over dwarf walked, or rather stumbled from one pile of rubbish to the next. Every now and then the hapless Korgan would stumble and fall, breaking something open with his head, which actually seemed to ease the pain from his headache momentarily, though it would only renew it's relentless assault with more power then before.
The dwarf made a sound that was like a whimper and a growl put together. Normally, as per normal for a dwarf, he experienced no after-affects from over abuse of alcohol, but this wasn't one of those times. Every step sent another knife of pain into his head. He walked with his eyes closed, not wanting to bear the painful brightness the the early morning sun. His rough hands gripped his forehead, yet brought no comfort. Finally, he stumbled and fell on something that his hard head did not break. Opening his eyes he saw... stairs. Curious, the dwarf squinted up into the basted bright sunlight.
A gnome, cup in hand, was standing at the top. The distinct smell of turnips filled the air.
"You know, you're the spitting image of uncle Gearheart after the second annual turnip festival. A few too many fermented turnip pies with albacarro or ginseng root and he was wandering around in circles sputtering what sounded like pig-elvish. Mind you we were all very grateful that no elves were present at that time, though a surprising number of dwarves showed up. Good thing, too. After uncle Scratchy finished the rest of the..."
"Will you ever shut yer dung-blasted hole?" The surly dwarf growled into the stairs.
Jan Jansan raised his eyebrows in surprise and took a moment to sip his tea. "Well... I must say, uncle Scratchy made a few comments about my personal hygiene, though I don't think it has deteriorated to that level. Fortunately I have just perfected a rather potent turnip-flavored mouthwash. Though if what you say is true, then maybe it could use a little work. Perhaps if you would be so kind as to..."
"Stop.... SPEAKING....." The dwarf sat on his haunches, holding his aching head while he waited for the firestorm within to settle down.
"Ohh.... I see. You know, I have just the thing for you. Ma always brewed up some of this after one of uncle Gearheart's drinking binges, though hers always tasted sour after a good meal of apple and turnip soup. Maybe it would have to do with the angle-root that she adds, though I always thought that if you..."
Korgan barely managed a low growl to silence the diminutive talking machine.
************
The Copper Coronet.
Minsc busily sorted through the equipment he and his friends had compiled together. Their most prized magical possessions no longer worked, unfortunately. Defeating Amylessan (Who's name defies spelling) within the Abyss sent something of a magical backlash throughout the area. Being so charged up with magical energy, her death could cause no less. All but a few of their magical items had died at that moment. Kincaid, however, did have to foresight to store their excess equipment in a safe place.
Minsc let out a cry of triumph as he fished out a large, two-handed sword from the pile.
"Ah-hah! You were right, boo. This one still works, good thing. Evil shall be running with it's pants pulled down around it's ankles thanks to Minsc's new belt-cutting blade of justice."
"Ohh.... great. Now I have to be paired with this moron again. Hey! Why don't you do me a favor and polish me?" The sword, Lilarcor, grumbled in return.
Minsc looked taken aback. "Boo wants to know, why are you so edgy this morning?"
Jaheira entered then, resplendid with a new change of clothes. Imoen followed shortly thereafter, and then Valygar, who glanced nervously around. The half-elven druid wasted no time in helping herself to a fresh salad, with some small amounts of meat, as well as a tall glass of water. Imoen took a nearby table and bade Valygar to join her, but the ranger shook his head as if to say 'In a moment'.
He caught site of Hendak and made his way to him quickly. Pulling him aside, he asked. "I.... seem to have a problem remembering last night.."
The Northman grinned, "Oh! Zat's becauze you blacked out like a snuffed candle. Fell like yon heavy log. You did a bit too much celebrating last night, eh?"
Valygar cast a nervous glance back towards Imoen, who was ordering her breakfast. "Oh..."
"Ze girl dragged you upstairz, remember. I swear, next time I won't serve ze strong drinks. Here, I'll make some Calimshite coffee for you two."
Valygar nodded his thanks and took his awaiting seat. Imoen, busily sharpening the Pixie Prick dagger, smiled up at him. "Feeling better?"
The Ranger favored her with a withering look, but said nothing. One barmaid, her eyes still sleepy, handed them both their drinks. Valygar graciously appraised the dark, strong liquid by tossing the whole thing back, ignoring the hot, scalding pain as he swallowed.
Imoen raised and eyebrow as she quietly took a sip. "Now, feeling better?"
Valygar nodded and the two began to make light conversation. Then the Ranger noticed that Jaheira had finished her food, but was staring off into space, obviously troubled with something. Nodding his head in her direction, he asked, "What's wrong with her?"
Imoen politely thanked the barmaid as she handed her her plate. Spare ribs with Hendak's special mild-spicy Northman sauce, and soup on the side. She hesitated before answering, troubled as well. "Jaheira was informed by way of a Harper's Sending (Magical means of communication).... someone was killed last night. It's... not the murder so much as...." Imoen paused, picking at her food but not bothering to eat. When Valygar pressed her to continue, she sighed. "The killer made a circle of bloody tears around the body."
Valygar sat back in his chair, almost blown over by the sheer exasperation he felt. When he thought it was finally over.
"The Symbol of Bhaal...."
--------------------------
Well... I know it's not a great progression, here. But you have to understand, writer's block is a terrible illness. So please, give to the dislexic with tea foundation and hope that one day, we will find a cure for writer's block. Just call the toll-free number on the bottom of your screen and we will send you the name, photo, and personal history of someone who is affected by this horrible disease.
Say! I bet I could make a lot of money if I made a bet that someone would write a fanfic for Final Fantasy X that involves Tidus coming back! Hmm.... no... either it's already been done or no one would take that bet. But Damn..... I haven't gotten emotional over a video game since Xenogears.... must be something in the tea.
I'm sure glad I have that spell-fixer-thingey program, because my hands are shaking more then a girl's vib---- On to the next topic!
Snake, you remember that oil tanker sinking two years ago? Oh, wait, nevermind. Up late, you see, but at least I don't have work tomorrow. Should go down to the store to pick up more tea. But then, I can't ring the bell, obviously, because the next door neighbor has too many pancakes. This makes it hard to eat ice cream while skiing with seventeen journals. I need scissors! 61! Raiden! You must c-continue your m-mission.
Fun Fact: The chair you are sitting on has been farted upon by no less then twelve people. Will continue to write with chapter 4. Please read and review, then re-read. There will be a test on this, Tommy! I know you're not sick; you ARE going to school today. AH! No buts!