Disclaimer: For the last three days I have been re-assessing the value of
a pair of house-hold slippers.
Irenicus: A thought, Dislexic; What would it be like with 12 or so familiars hanging around all at once.
Dislexic: Oh, something like this:
Kincaid scoops several portions of a dog-food like substances into a dozen bowls on a table and calls out, "Dinner's ready! Line up!"
A flock of familairs come in from all directions (7 psudo dragons, 3 fairy dragons and one cranky dust mephit) and line up to take attendence, Kincaid checks off thier names as he calls out.
"Spock! Spork! Sprik! Spunk! Spaik! Splok! Speek! Spoik! Spank! Spirk! Splek! Spic! .... Spic?..... We're missing someone.... Hey! Spic?"
Irenicus: I'd imagine, though you can't name your familiar Spic.
Dislexic: What do you mean?
Irenicus: It's not what you Author's call... PC.
Dislexic: You know what they used to be named?
Irenicus: Somehow I don't think I want to know....
Kincaid takes attendance, checking off names as he goes.
"Okay, line up! Cracker! Coon! Dyke! Ghost! Patty! Fag! Bitch! Chinky! Gimp! Wetback! Canadian! Nigga!.... Nigga? Hey, we're missing someone. Hey Nigga?"
Dislexic: It's fun to be politically incorrect, so long as you do it equally to everyone.
Irenicus: Riiiiiiiiiight.
Dislexic: Besides, starting at level 5, Authors can be un-PC once per day per 5 levels... we're allowed that.
Dislexic: Oh, and a little note to my newest reviewer, PannyChanny16;*Goes into dramatised mode* I don't really know who or what Vhalior is. He/she/both/niether/nueter/it/? just showed up one day and dared to question the plausability behind Kincaid's 486 current natural hitpoints. Isn't that incredible? That someone would have the audacity to even begin to ponder an error on my part!
Irenicus: To add insult to injury, Vhalior also questioned how a nuetral/good character could possess Blackrazor.
Dislexic: Aye! He....*gasp*... questioned!! Have you ever in your entire life...?
Irenicus: Never....
Dislexic: It's simply... unheard of.... it's not done!! All this because of my open-mindedness. Because I see doors were others see walls. Because I see pathways where others see wastelands. Why, what critism would I get if I also put in the Big Metal Unit?
Irenicus: Oh, you'd be flamed for sure!
Dislexic: Indeed! I can see it now! Notes like "You Perv! That item doesn't exist, you made it up!" Why? Why must I be cursed with this intelligence? Why me?!
Irenicus: I feel you, man. I feel you.
------------------------
20th Day of Nightal 1369 DR
Greetings, and Hail to the Queen Ziranda Rhindaun of Tethyr,
to whom Jered Kincaid of Candlekeep does so humbly address.
Your Highness, I had wished to write this letter at an earlier time, but could not bring myself to. Understand that I am filled with remorse and regret over the pain that I have caused, not only to you personally, but to the countless others of whom I may or may not have inadvertently killed. Yes, I do accept that I may be at fault. No simple apology to any being could erase the damage done, but an effort must be made.
Doubtless news of General Jamis Tombelthen's death has already reached your ears. I wish I could say that it was avoidable. It was not my intention to engage him or his men, but I'm afraid he would offer me no chance for defence. He, and the noble soldiers who fought bravely under his command are all buried in the area of the oasis where we met. You should find it located about half a day's march east north-east of the adobe city Amkathran. My condolences for thier loss, and my apologies. Please send my sincerest regards towards their families as well.
Despite the actions that have been taken, and the terrible tragedies that have occurred, you must understand, oh Highness, that I am not the harbinger of death and destruction that many believe me to be. You yourself, I suspect, are among those people. I am not an ambitious usurper of kingdoms, nor am I a wicked necromancer, plotting to fill the world with the undead. I am not un leuge with the drow, Zhentarim or the wizards or Thay. Dispite this, I have been given more negative attention then those who are as dangerouse as these, if not more. Your Highness, if you likened what has happened during this past year to a whirlpool of chaose, know that I was caught within that whirlpool just as many others were. I did not start it, nor did I knowingly have a hand in any of the destruction it wrought.
In my journeys I have often been placed in the role of the judge, having been forced to make decisions that would, in one way or another, decide that fate of a person's life. How I wish I had always known the facts at those critical times, known the whole story. Perhaps I am right in thinking that you, too, share my point of view. Know that you need not fear me, for I am no threat to your kingdom. Know also that the the armies or Yaga-Shura, Sendai, Balthazar and Abazigal are no more and you need not fear them either. I understand they were a source of grave concern to you, and rightly so. I pray that relieving your kingdom of the pressures of these evil forces can help to repay the debt I fear I owe. Unfortunately, it will have to as I will no longer be available, or in any way accessable. For this, I discourage any attempts to bring me or my companions to trail to answer for the deeds of my brethren bhaalspawn. Let us lay this matter to rest. Let peace prosper in your kingdom and among your people. May we one day meet as friends.
Yours humbly,
Jered Kincaid.
------------------------
Chapter 9
The game's afoot.
Bryn Shandar. Mertallo's Tower.
The sun had long-sinse risen in Bryn Shandar. The common people were well into starting thier day, but for three magic practitioners, the day was already long in going. Soon it they would have to give in to the natural urges of fatigue. The tower that they dwelt in was, of course, much larger and more spaciose on the inside then it was on the outside. Many runes lined it's exterrior in an elaborate and intricate neverending design. Ever now and then, a passerby would stop and gaze at the tower in bewilderment as well as more then a little fear. None heard the earth- shattering screams of anguish and torment that echoed within, for among the runes were ones of a silence barrier.
"Ready to speak, spirit?" Viconia asked calmly.
The tormented soul of the assassin, whose named turned out to be Ashwin, bared his teeth feebly, as though he could threaten his tormentor.
"More incentive, then?" The drow asked, completing her sentence with a gesture that wracked the spirit in pain, causing him to scream louder.
On the far side of the study, Mertallo and Kincaid poured over tomes and open scrolls, seeking answers amidst the screams.
"I don't suppose she could simply 'compel' the spirit to answer her, hm? Why the interrogation?" Mertallo asked after a rather uncomfortably loud scream.
"This way's more entertaining for her." Kincaid mumbled as he traced the runes on one scroll. "So odd... it can't be a fragment of dead-magic, because I was still held. Paralyzed, aye...." Kincaid looked up to see Mertallo giving him a quizical look.
"Entertaining?"
The mage took a moment to regard the spectral image of Ashwin, who was now screaming as he desperately tried to smother the flames that only he could see and feel. "Must we constantly listen to this, love?"
The drow gave him an evil smile and proceded to surround the spectre in a sphere of silence, then to leave him to his torment, ignoring him.
Kincaid turning his attention back to his old friend. "It's only that she can be very vengeful to those who would do us harm."
The old mage let out a low whistle. "I'll be sure never to do you harm."
"Right, now back to this," said Kincaid. "I had sequenced a few spells to go off in the event that I am rendered helpless. First, a simulacrum of myself, then I would become invisible, with a couple of added protection spells.
"But in this case, nothing happened."
Kincaid nodded. "That would lead me to think the holding spell was designed just for me, to cancel my magic."
Mertallo pursed his lips thoughtfuly. "What about your near- invulnerability? The way blades have trouble cutting your skin."
"I don't know... Viconia intervened before that could be tested." Kincaid sent a smile her way. "Not that I'm complaining."
The drow gave him a demure look, but said nothing.
"Then we should safely assume that the spell was designed for you. To halt your magic and hold you, likely for your death." Mertallo suggested. Then he held up the ritual stone blade. "This, it seems has a litle enchantment in it. Not for combat, mind you. In fact, it's quite fragile, as is any stone weapon. It's enchantment is similar to a vampire's touch or a succubus's kiss. It drains the victim of everything. The power does not go to the wielder."
"I didn't think it would." Kincaid noted. "The power must be channeled somewhere else."
"Which would imply," Mertallo said with a sigh. "that these guys are just the grunts."
Then, Viconia nodded from accross the room and added. "It makes sense. These assassin's gather the power for thier masters, who supply them with these weapons. They're capable of handling the task at hand, namely killing people, but not good at confrontations."
"Save for the event in which they draw my attention." Kincaid pointed out.
"Which means that they, or rather their leaders, where prepared for you." Said the old mage.
Kincaid understood the concern that struck his lover's face at those words.
That night, after some rest and further study into what they had discovered, they trio made plans to seek out more answers in Waterdeep. The spirit of Aswin provided them - After an excessive amount of unnessecary coaxing on Viconia's part - with the name of his contact in what he called the Cult of Murder. The spirit could tell them little more, having been intentionally kept in the dark himself.
The sun had already burned it's final line on the horizon and the darkness of the night found the young wizard and his dark-skinned lover gazing into it's starry depths. By unspoken agreement the two had sought the solace of the solar room. It was, curiously enough, only an open-air room from the inside. The room was actually devoid of all furnishings, consisting only of a circular dias that served as a floor. By now, Kincaid and Viconia both were well-used to the magical tower and it's excessive interior spacing.
"Waterdeep... I've only heard of it." Viconia said at length.
"I've never been there either." Kincaid said responded. "They call it the jewel of the north."
The elf nodded absently. To her it was another hive of drow-hating rivvel. Granted, they hated drow with good reason.
"The information you extracted from Ashwin was correct?" Kincaid asked, simply to continue the conversation, he already knew the answer.
"The spirit could not very well have lied." She mused.
"Still... he wasn't told much." He sighed.
"Likely kept in the dark for our benefit."
"Indeed..."
........
..........
"Kincaid?"
"Yes?"
"When this is over and done with, we WILL have our peace, won't we?" Viconia asked as much as she demanded.
The mage smiled sympatheticly. "Oh, I imagine we'll still have our conflicts, just like any married couple."
The drow looked whistful for a moment. "Hm.... Marriage." Kincaid's version of marriage was far different from what she was used to, down right reversed (Save for that drow females oft kill their husbands once they become bored, or angry, with them. Human males, as Kincaid said, don't do that nearly as much.). Despite this, Viconia did not believe she would have any difficulty assuming the role.
"But yes, I'll see to it." The mage continued. "I, too, grow weary of these endless battles and shadow-chasing."
"And the endless battles." The drow continued, then added with a wicked smile. "Although I am pleased to see you haven't lost your skill along with your divinity."
"Divinity..." Kincaid echoed. The singular word made the elf regard him oddly.
"What is it?"
Kincaid looked down to examine his hands. "I have wondered...."
"Of...?" Viconia pressed.
"I still don't quite feel human." Kincaid whispered. "No avatar am I, nor am Ia fledging godling, yet still... I cannot shake the notion that while Bhaal's essence was removed from me, my blood is yet... inhuman."
The elf nodded, grasping his words and their meaning quicker then most would. "You mean you think you are yet a godchild, but one of no divine alignment."
"No alignment, and no purpose, I think." Said Kincaid. "When Bhaal's essence was in me, I could use it, shape it to my will. Now... I feel as if I still have the potentail for great power... but nothing beyond that. No means of using it. Nothing tangible or any way of touching the weave in the manner I did before."
Viconia offered a sympathetic smile. "Frustrating?"
The mage sighed. "Not so much as... intruiging... and frightening."
"I know how you feel..." Viconia whispered.
The wind picked up subtly, only for a moment and tossed their hair. It's biting chill kept it devoid of any kind of insect, but did not bother the two magic-weavers. Kincaid turned to regard his lover with mixed admiration and wonder. His thoughts filled with memories of how this drow priestess once was. Cold, cruel and a little sadistic. On the outside, at least. What sat next to him now was indeed a far cry from that drow, or for that matter ANY drow he had ever known (Barring Drizzt Do'Urrden). She had shown strength, the strength to change herself and become a better person. She had displayed wisdom and will both by learning and adapting to a world completely alien to her, and then to thrive in it. She had shown endurence and loyalty, but above all, love. Love... what she thought she could never truely feel, what she had consigned as a loss to her, she now felt. The changes amazed the young wizard, and although he knew that it was because of him, his love and his guidence that had brought her to this point, he envied her as though he were a lesser person.
He did not realize he was staring untill he noticed her gaze upon him, one elegantly snow-white eyebrow raised questioningly. Kincaid did not respond with words, but rather slowly led his gaze down her body. With a smile, the elf arched to afford him a better view. The mage moved in closer, reaching up to stroke her soft cheek and hold her there as he leaned forward to kiss her. Viconia graciously accepted his gentle touch. It was still something she was getting used too. No male had ever cherished her as he did, but the elf found that it was not entirely an unfamilar thing.
The kiss deepened as Kincaid bore down on his lover, forcing her to lay back. Their tongues met in a slow, sensual dance while their arms encircled each other. Their hands explored each other with the familiarity of two lovers who each truely knew the other wholly. The next day they would travel to Waterdeep, but that night they knew only the familiar warmth of each other's touch.
***************
The dark, dank room served it's perpose as a meeting area, and did little else. A single candle on the wall beside the room's singular door served as it's only means of illumination. This lack of light was by no means a discomfort to those who inhabited it, for darkness was what suited them best. Were it not for the one human, a short, rat-like man named Kertwyn, the room would consist of no light whatsoever.
"Your men have prooven... adequate, though little more then such. Several have fallen, know you." Hissed a venomouse feminine voice that belonged to one named Vishiree, a female elf whose skin was darker then shadow with peppery grey hair and pinkish-red eyes that glowed in the dark. Vishiree always sent chills down the human's spine.
"I have learned of Kanghing's death in Amkathran." Kertwyn replied cautiously. "I assure you, it is an acceptible loss."
"I said several, iblith!" Vishiree snapped, causing the little man to recoil. "Some of your agents in Calimshan have turned up dead, as well as those in Athkatla. An old paladin is doing the work, I hear."
"Keldorn..." Kertwyn sighed. "It has to be..." The thief bowed his head humbly. "Should I have them target the paladin?"
"As if they'd succeed" Vishiree spat. Then her visage softened someone. "Still.... the power they have gathered up untill this point is enough. Know that I am pleased, despite the obviouse disapointments."
Kertwyn visibly relaxed.
"Inform them that they will have to work harder, the appointed time approaches." She hissed, sending the small man into a series of bowing gestures as he backed out of the room.
"Mistress?" Spoke a silky, masculine voice no less darker then the one it was addressing.
Vishiree turned slightly to acknowladge her leutenant. "Yes, Zinessan, you may speak."
"Kertwyn's cannon fodder may become suspiciouse. They might get it into thier heads that they won't have the place of power you promised them."
That caused Vishiree to smirk. "I'm sure that when he realizes that, it would teach the fool human to truth of dealing with the drow."
Zinessan accepted that with a subtle bow. "I only find myself concerned that they might do damage to... us."
Another voice, one that had been silent up until now spoke a responce in Vishiree's stead. This one was a smoother, almost sultry feminine voice that contrasted to the other female's voice in many ways. Where Vishiree's was harsh and fear-inspiring, Drieza's was low and almost seductive. "Fear not, male. They are watched well enough. I'm more concerned about the Child of Bhaal. He extracted some information from one of the rivvel."
Vishiree snorted. "It was only a matter of time. Now, it is only a matter of trapping the animal."
"I advise caution, mistress." Spoke Zinessan. "Sendai and Abizigal of the five both fell before him, and they were no mean opponents for a human to face."
"No mean opponents, but no intellectual geniuses either." Said the sultry priestess. "The attempts they made were of brawn, not brain, as the humans say."
"As the humans say..." Vishiree echoed. "So now you're adopting thier words?"
Drieza's lips curved into a smile that betrayed nothing. "In knowing your enemy..."
Vishiree hmphed and turned to her male leutenant, though he wisely remained impassive.
The elf raised an eeybrow at the male questioningly. "What? Nothing to say?"
Zinessan made a small, helpless gesture that was rather undrow-like before offering a change of subject. "How soon untill the others arrive.?"
"A matter of days at this rate.... if you're reffering to those two dull- witted smelly beasts." Drieza said.
"And the... mad one?"
"The sorceress is already among us." Said Vishiree. "She will be most usefull, worry not."
*********************
The northern High Road. Two days from Waterdeep.
The air had become steadily crispier, though the two travelers did not notice the gradual, steady change. They had been setting a fast pace. Perhaps it was out of force of habit; a sense of urgency had always before guided their feet. The wind no longer blew dust in their eyes, for the terrain had gradually shifted to that of a more fertile region. Farms littered the countryside. The occasional roadguard made their patrols, on the lookout for the raiding orc parties that still threatened the defenseless farmlands. Off in the distance there burned the dim lights of several, tiny villages like campfires against the persistant darkness of the night sky.
"Hm... Not much further, I say. Waterdeep be but a stone's throw by the looks of it." Said Korgan.
Minsc frowned. "I do not understand why anyone would throw rocks at such large cities, unless those cities hide the darkness of evil in great amounts."
Korgan was about to shoot back a reply, but stopped himself, as if reminded of something. Suddenly he seemed apprehensive.
"Minsc, boy, I've been thinkin. Perhaps ye should go on yer own way to yer homeland. Go on with ye, ye need follow me no longer."
The large man shook his head. "No, Boo once said that friends should stick together, and so we shall! Boo is smart, trust me. Though some people need convincing of this, I don't. Boo has already prooven it to me." Minsc smiled, as if proud of himself, then continued. "Besides, it is a simple stop along the way for me."
Korgan furrowed his brow at the ranger. "Minsc... they ARE in opposite directions...."
Minsc opened his mouth to reply, but thought better of it and consulted his hamster first. Soon enough, he proudly turned to his companion with a ready answer. "Boo says that everything lies on the path forward, nothing is opposite.
With that the two continued to walk in silence. Korgan stayed to the rear, darkness clouding his already rough features as he regarded his companion's back. Despite himself, he was actually growing fond of the dull ranger's company. Although he was set in his course, he knew that he would greatly regret burying his axe in the ranger's thick skull, should it ever come to that.
In a voice too low for the ranger to hear him, he grumbled. "Can't say I didn't give ye a way out, fool boy."
It would only be a matter of time before they reached Waterdeep.
----------------------------
Yes yes yes... I know it's been a month since my last chapter, but you have to understand.... I have a situation! I'm also taking my big test this week, which I've been studying for, and my mind as rather focused on more relevent informantion.... such as Elizebeth Taylor's previouse marraiges. You have to understand the weight of the stuff I've been studying... it creates a writer's block all in itself. So you see, there are many distractions that can keep me from writting a new chapter... and phew! Talk about distractions! Yesterday, while I was taking the first part of my test, I was sitting next to this SEXY Hungarian babe. Black hair against smooth, pale skin, dark eyes and a nice pair of 36Cs. Did I mention she wasn't wearing a bra? Every time I glanced over I could see right down her dress.....
Okay, so maybe I didn't score so well on that test.
The good news is that I have bought a new pack of tea. Also I've been thinking of new styles of writting... So I'll be learning more from other authors and trying to intigrate them into my own style. I'm still developing my own style, you see. Readers or Ed Greenwood and R.A. Salvatore can easily see their influence in my fanfic. Hell, every author's influenced by the books they read. If they havn't read book,s they're generally sucky authors. Take, for example, the fanfic entittled "Data" in the Star Trek section. No, I'm not going to flame it, it wouldn't be my style to diminish another author's efforts in writting. However, I am merely going to use it as an example of how NOT to write a fanfic.
(Damn! That Hungarian chick was HOT)
Which brings up something I've been thinking about for a while. Can't we just... you know.... purge all the crappy fanfics from fanfiction? I mean, why not? Only leave the good stuff. Like mine (Hey, that's not me ego talking, that's you guys saying I'm good.). Oh well.
Polyester, silk and nylon-based clothes are far more comfortable then simple cotten. I swear, these shorts make me feel like I'm not even wearing them. You know you've got a good wardrobe when you occasionally have to check to make sure you're still wearing it. This can take some getting used to if you frequent the mall, or a fancy resturant, but it is a sharp contrast to... say... military gear.
For that matter... why can't we all just walk around naked?
(Like that Hungarian chick... love to see her naked....)
My next chapter shouldn't take so long this time. Also, you may find spelling mistakes in this one (don't tell me about it, I already know) because I'm not going to spell-check it. I'm just going to post it.
Specail note in responce to Wraith's post:
Ah yes! You CAN change Viconia's alignment. You CAN make her a better person. But how? Many people have wondered this, and as per your request, I shall provide a detailed list of instructions that will no doubt melt her cold, black drow heart.
Step 1: Be polite.
Yes, be polite when she bludgeon's your backside with her newly-aquired flail because there apparently was an insect on it, or so she says. Do not take offence to this. Remember, you don't want to hinder her spiritual growth, but you should instead turn around and allow her to squash the insects along your chest, stomache, and groin area as well.
Step 2: Be patient.
Patience is a virtue. When you are bleeding to death and literally begging Viconia to heal you, be patient. After all, if she said she would cast a healing spell after she has done her hair, her nails, applied her facail cream and slept at least 12 hours (her beauty sleep, of course) then she will. Don't insult her by asking more then once, this might make her think that you doubt she heard you the first time, and hence, hinder her spiritual growth.
Step 3: Trust her.
Trust is one of the most fundumental aspects of any relationship. Trust her to know what spells to cast in a difficult battle. Should she turn you into a small rabbit, trust that it was out of her superior wisdom that she did so. Keep in mind that she is drow, after all. Thus, she is a higher form of life and understands things that you cannot begin to grasp. Should she sling a stone directly into the back of your skull as you duel toe-to- toe with the world's greatest of villians, trust that she had a reason for doing so and kindly oblige her by promptly loosing consciousness.
Step 4: Indulge her.
As your relationship grows, you will be grealty blessed by the few-and- far between opportunities to indulge Viconia. Do not waste this chance. If she summons spiders to watch them play with you, kindly allow them to sample your flesh. Don't resist, as this might maker he indignant and hinder her spiritual growth. If she starts a conversation, immediately agree with whatever view she expresses and support her when she proposes that all human males should be castrated at the first sign of disobedience. Remember, she is drow. Thus she is a higher form of life.
Step 5: Support her.
Though for most women this would be in a figurative way, for Viconia you must jump at the chance to litterally support her! Do not dare subject her to the rigors of walking, but rather you must carry her across the wastes, the jungles, the dungeons and through the cities. Be sure to construct a suitable, mobile throne for her, or course, as you may not be allowed to touch her directly.
Step 6: Give great head!
Eventually, your relationship will reach the point where Viconia will graciously allow you to go down on her. Remember, if she hasn't kept herself clean it may be because she is testing your endurance. Do not dispair. The effect should be no more lethal then your standard Cloudkill spell. Nevertheless, you will likely be down there for some time, so be sure you wear a ring of regeneration to ensure your survival. Also while some women, thinking themselves rather kinky, would use a whip to encourage you, Viconia would most likely stick to the flail. She is drow, after all. You may want to wear two rings of regeneration
Steps 7-65: Repeat step 6.
Step 66: Be perfect.
Viconia will not allow there to be any flaws in her man of choice. Waste no time in becooming perfect. Remember, you must encourage her spiritual growth by setting an exemple in this fashion. Make no mistakes of any kind. No the correct path to every situation and leave no margin for error. This step is a must.
Step 67: Repeat step 6.
Step 68: Play Throne of Bhaal.
This is essentail. The change in alingment will only occur late in the Viconia romance while playing Throne of Bhaal.
Step 69: Repeat step 6, then add 9.
Irenicus: A thought, Dislexic; What would it be like with 12 or so familiars hanging around all at once.
Dislexic: Oh, something like this:
Kincaid scoops several portions of a dog-food like substances into a dozen bowls on a table and calls out, "Dinner's ready! Line up!"
A flock of familairs come in from all directions (7 psudo dragons, 3 fairy dragons and one cranky dust mephit) and line up to take attendence, Kincaid checks off thier names as he calls out.
"Spock! Spork! Sprik! Spunk! Spaik! Splok! Speek! Spoik! Spank! Spirk! Splek! Spic! .... Spic?..... We're missing someone.... Hey! Spic?"
Irenicus: I'd imagine, though you can't name your familiar Spic.
Dislexic: What do you mean?
Irenicus: It's not what you Author's call... PC.
Dislexic: You know what they used to be named?
Irenicus: Somehow I don't think I want to know....
Kincaid takes attendance, checking off names as he goes.
"Okay, line up! Cracker! Coon! Dyke! Ghost! Patty! Fag! Bitch! Chinky! Gimp! Wetback! Canadian! Nigga!.... Nigga? Hey, we're missing someone. Hey Nigga?"
Dislexic: It's fun to be politically incorrect, so long as you do it equally to everyone.
Irenicus: Riiiiiiiiiight.
Dislexic: Besides, starting at level 5, Authors can be un-PC once per day per 5 levels... we're allowed that.
Dislexic: Oh, and a little note to my newest reviewer, PannyChanny16;*Goes into dramatised mode* I don't really know who or what Vhalior is. He/she/both/niether/nueter/it/? just showed up one day and dared to question the plausability behind Kincaid's 486 current natural hitpoints. Isn't that incredible? That someone would have the audacity to even begin to ponder an error on my part!
Irenicus: To add insult to injury, Vhalior also questioned how a nuetral/good character could possess Blackrazor.
Dislexic: Aye! He....*gasp*... questioned!! Have you ever in your entire life...?
Irenicus: Never....
Dislexic: It's simply... unheard of.... it's not done!! All this because of my open-mindedness. Because I see doors were others see walls. Because I see pathways where others see wastelands. Why, what critism would I get if I also put in the Big Metal Unit?
Irenicus: Oh, you'd be flamed for sure!
Dislexic: Indeed! I can see it now! Notes like "You Perv! That item doesn't exist, you made it up!" Why? Why must I be cursed with this intelligence? Why me?!
Irenicus: I feel you, man. I feel you.
------------------------
20th Day of Nightal 1369 DR
Greetings, and Hail to the Queen Ziranda Rhindaun of Tethyr,
to whom Jered Kincaid of Candlekeep does so humbly address.
Your Highness, I had wished to write this letter at an earlier time, but could not bring myself to. Understand that I am filled with remorse and regret over the pain that I have caused, not only to you personally, but to the countless others of whom I may or may not have inadvertently killed. Yes, I do accept that I may be at fault. No simple apology to any being could erase the damage done, but an effort must be made.
Doubtless news of General Jamis Tombelthen's death has already reached your ears. I wish I could say that it was avoidable. It was not my intention to engage him or his men, but I'm afraid he would offer me no chance for defence. He, and the noble soldiers who fought bravely under his command are all buried in the area of the oasis where we met. You should find it located about half a day's march east north-east of the adobe city Amkathran. My condolences for thier loss, and my apologies. Please send my sincerest regards towards their families as well.
Despite the actions that have been taken, and the terrible tragedies that have occurred, you must understand, oh Highness, that I am not the harbinger of death and destruction that many believe me to be. You yourself, I suspect, are among those people. I am not an ambitious usurper of kingdoms, nor am I a wicked necromancer, plotting to fill the world with the undead. I am not un leuge with the drow, Zhentarim or the wizards or Thay. Dispite this, I have been given more negative attention then those who are as dangerouse as these, if not more. Your Highness, if you likened what has happened during this past year to a whirlpool of chaose, know that I was caught within that whirlpool just as many others were. I did not start it, nor did I knowingly have a hand in any of the destruction it wrought.
In my journeys I have often been placed in the role of the judge, having been forced to make decisions that would, in one way or another, decide that fate of a person's life. How I wish I had always known the facts at those critical times, known the whole story. Perhaps I am right in thinking that you, too, share my point of view. Know that you need not fear me, for I am no threat to your kingdom. Know also that the the armies or Yaga-Shura, Sendai, Balthazar and Abazigal are no more and you need not fear them either. I understand they were a source of grave concern to you, and rightly so. I pray that relieving your kingdom of the pressures of these evil forces can help to repay the debt I fear I owe. Unfortunately, it will have to as I will no longer be available, or in any way accessable. For this, I discourage any attempts to bring me or my companions to trail to answer for the deeds of my brethren bhaalspawn. Let us lay this matter to rest. Let peace prosper in your kingdom and among your people. May we one day meet as friends.
Yours humbly,
Jered Kincaid.
------------------------
Chapter 9
The game's afoot.
Bryn Shandar. Mertallo's Tower.
The sun had long-sinse risen in Bryn Shandar. The common people were well into starting thier day, but for three magic practitioners, the day was already long in going. Soon it they would have to give in to the natural urges of fatigue. The tower that they dwelt in was, of course, much larger and more spaciose on the inside then it was on the outside. Many runes lined it's exterrior in an elaborate and intricate neverending design. Ever now and then, a passerby would stop and gaze at the tower in bewilderment as well as more then a little fear. None heard the earth- shattering screams of anguish and torment that echoed within, for among the runes were ones of a silence barrier.
"Ready to speak, spirit?" Viconia asked calmly.
The tormented soul of the assassin, whose named turned out to be Ashwin, bared his teeth feebly, as though he could threaten his tormentor.
"More incentive, then?" The drow asked, completing her sentence with a gesture that wracked the spirit in pain, causing him to scream louder.
On the far side of the study, Mertallo and Kincaid poured over tomes and open scrolls, seeking answers amidst the screams.
"I don't suppose she could simply 'compel' the spirit to answer her, hm? Why the interrogation?" Mertallo asked after a rather uncomfortably loud scream.
"This way's more entertaining for her." Kincaid mumbled as he traced the runes on one scroll. "So odd... it can't be a fragment of dead-magic, because I was still held. Paralyzed, aye...." Kincaid looked up to see Mertallo giving him a quizical look.
"Entertaining?"
The mage took a moment to regard the spectral image of Ashwin, who was now screaming as he desperately tried to smother the flames that only he could see and feel. "Must we constantly listen to this, love?"
The drow gave him an evil smile and proceded to surround the spectre in a sphere of silence, then to leave him to his torment, ignoring him.
Kincaid turning his attention back to his old friend. "It's only that she can be very vengeful to those who would do us harm."
The old mage let out a low whistle. "I'll be sure never to do you harm."
"Right, now back to this," said Kincaid. "I had sequenced a few spells to go off in the event that I am rendered helpless. First, a simulacrum of myself, then I would become invisible, with a couple of added protection spells.
"But in this case, nothing happened."
Kincaid nodded. "That would lead me to think the holding spell was designed just for me, to cancel my magic."
Mertallo pursed his lips thoughtfuly. "What about your near- invulnerability? The way blades have trouble cutting your skin."
"I don't know... Viconia intervened before that could be tested." Kincaid sent a smile her way. "Not that I'm complaining."
The drow gave him a demure look, but said nothing.
"Then we should safely assume that the spell was designed for you. To halt your magic and hold you, likely for your death." Mertallo suggested. Then he held up the ritual stone blade. "This, it seems has a litle enchantment in it. Not for combat, mind you. In fact, it's quite fragile, as is any stone weapon. It's enchantment is similar to a vampire's touch or a succubus's kiss. It drains the victim of everything. The power does not go to the wielder."
"I didn't think it would." Kincaid noted. "The power must be channeled somewhere else."
"Which would imply," Mertallo said with a sigh. "that these guys are just the grunts."
Then, Viconia nodded from accross the room and added. "It makes sense. These assassin's gather the power for thier masters, who supply them with these weapons. They're capable of handling the task at hand, namely killing people, but not good at confrontations."
"Save for the event in which they draw my attention." Kincaid pointed out.
"Which means that they, or rather their leaders, where prepared for you." Said the old mage.
Kincaid understood the concern that struck his lover's face at those words.
That night, after some rest and further study into what they had discovered, they trio made plans to seek out more answers in Waterdeep. The spirit of Aswin provided them - After an excessive amount of unnessecary coaxing on Viconia's part - with the name of his contact in what he called the Cult of Murder. The spirit could tell them little more, having been intentionally kept in the dark himself.
The sun had already burned it's final line on the horizon and the darkness of the night found the young wizard and his dark-skinned lover gazing into it's starry depths. By unspoken agreement the two had sought the solace of the solar room. It was, curiously enough, only an open-air room from the inside. The room was actually devoid of all furnishings, consisting only of a circular dias that served as a floor. By now, Kincaid and Viconia both were well-used to the magical tower and it's excessive interior spacing.
"Waterdeep... I've only heard of it." Viconia said at length.
"I've never been there either." Kincaid said responded. "They call it the jewel of the north."
The elf nodded absently. To her it was another hive of drow-hating rivvel. Granted, they hated drow with good reason.
"The information you extracted from Ashwin was correct?" Kincaid asked, simply to continue the conversation, he already knew the answer.
"The spirit could not very well have lied." She mused.
"Still... he wasn't told much." He sighed.
"Likely kept in the dark for our benefit."
"Indeed..."
........
..........
"Kincaid?"
"Yes?"
"When this is over and done with, we WILL have our peace, won't we?" Viconia asked as much as she demanded.
The mage smiled sympatheticly. "Oh, I imagine we'll still have our conflicts, just like any married couple."
The drow looked whistful for a moment. "Hm.... Marriage." Kincaid's version of marriage was far different from what she was used to, down right reversed (Save for that drow females oft kill their husbands once they become bored, or angry, with them. Human males, as Kincaid said, don't do that nearly as much.). Despite this, Viconia did not believe she would have any difficulty assuming the role.
"But yes, I'll see to it." The mage continued. "I, too, grow weary of these endless battles and shadow-chasing."
"And the endless battles." The drow continued, then added with a wicked smile. "Although I am pleased to see you haven't lost your skill along with your divinity."
"Divinity..." Kincaid echoed. The singular word made the elf regard him oddly.
"What is it?"
Kincaid looked down to examine his hands. "I have wondered...."
"Of...?" Viconia pressed.
"I still don't quite feel human." Kincaid whispered. "No avatar am I, nor am Ia fledging godling, yet still... I cannot shake the notion that while Bhaal's essence was removed from me, my blood is yet... inhuman."
The elf nodded, grasping his words and their meaning quicker then most would. "You mean you think you are yet a godchild, but one of no divine alignment."
"No alignment, and no purpose, I think." Said Kincaid. "When Bhaal's essence was in me, I could use it, shape it to my will. Now... I feel as if I still have the potentail for great power... but nothing beyond that. No means of using it. Nothing tangible or any way of touching the weave in the manner I did before."
Viconia offered a sympathetic smile. "Frustrating?"
The mage sighed. "Not so much as... intruiging... and frightening."
"I know how you feel..." Viconia whispered.
The wind picked up subtly, only for a moment and tossed their hair. It's biting chill kept it devoid of any kind of insect, but did not bother the two magic-weavers. Kincaid turned to regard his lover with mixed admiration and wonder. His thoughts filled with memories of how this drow priestess once was. Cold, cruel and a little sadistic. On the outside, at least. What sat next to him now was indeed a far cry from that drow, or for that matter ANY drow he had ever known (Barring Drizzt Do'Urrden). She had shown strength, the strength to change herself and become a better person. She had displayed wisdom and will both by learning and adapting to a world completely alien to her, and then to thrive in it. She had shown endurence and loyalty, but above all, love. Love... what she thought she could never truely feel, what she had consigned as a loss to her, she now felt. The changes amazed the young wizard, and although he knew that it was because of him, his love and his guidence that had brought her to this point, he envied her as though he were a lesser person.
He did not realize he was staring untill he noticed her gaze upon him, one elegantly snow-white eyebrow raised questioningly. Kincaid did not respond with words, but rather slowly led his gaze down her body. With a smile, the elf arched to afford him a better view. The mage moved in closer, reaching up to stroke her soft cheek and hold her there as he leaned forward to kiss her. Viconia graciously accepted his gentle touch. It was still something she was getting used too. No male had ever cherished her as he did, but the elf found that it was not entirely an unfamilar thing.
The kiss deepened as Kincaid bore down on his lover, forcing her to lay back. Their tongues met in a slow, sensual dance while their arms encircled each other. Their hands explored each other with the familiarity of two lovers who each truely knew the other wholly. The next day they would travel to Waterdeep, but that night they knew only the familiar warmth of each other's touch.
***************
The dark, dank room served it's perpose as a meeting area, and did little else. A single candle on the wall beside the room's singular door served as it's only means of illumination. This lack of light was by no means a discomfort to those who inhabited it, for darkness was what suited them best. Were it not for the one human, a short, rat-like man named Kertwyn, the room would consist of no light whatsoever.
"Your men have prooven... adequate, though little more then such. Several have fallen, know you." Hissed a venomouse feminine voice that belonged to one named Vishiree, a female elf whose skin was darker then shadow with peppery grey hair and pinkish-red eyes that glowed in the dark. Vishiree always sent chills down the human's spine.
"I have learned of Kanghing's death in Amkathran." Kertwyn replied cautiously. "I assure you, it is an acceptible loss."
"I said several, iblith!" Vishiree snapped, causing the little man to recoil. "Some of your agents in Calimshan have turned up dead, as well as those in Athkatla. An old paladin is doing the work, I hear."
"Keldorn..." Kertwyn sighed. "It has to be..." The thief bowed his head humbly. "Should I have them target the paladin?"
"As if they'd succeed" Vishiree spat. Then her visage softened someone. "Still.... the power they have gathered up untill this point is enough. Know that I am pleased, despite the obviouse disapointments."
Kertwyn visibly relaxed.
"Inform them that they will have to work harder, the appointed time approaches." She hissed, sending the small man into a series of bowing gestures as he backed out of the room.
"Mistress?" Spoke a silky, masculine voice no less darker then the one it was addressing.
Vishiree turned slightly to acknowladge her leutenant. "Yes, Zinessan, you may speak."
"Kertwyn's cannon fodder may become suspiciouse. They might get it into thier heads that they won't have the place of power you promised them."
That caused Vishiree to smirk. "I'm sure that when he realizes that, it would teach the fool human to truth of dealing with the drow."
Zinessan accepted that with a subtle bow. "I only find myself concerned that they might do damage to... us."
Another voice, one that had been silent up until now spoke a responce in Vishiree's stead. This one was a smoother, almost sultry feminine voice that contrasted to the other female's voice in many ways. Where Vishiree's was harsh and fear-inspiring, Drieza's was low and almost seductive. "Fear not, male. They are watched well enough. I'm more concerned about the Child of Bhaal. He extracted some information from one of the rivvel."
Vishiree snorted. "It was only a matter of time. Now, it is only a matter of trapping the animal."
"I advise caution, mistress." Spoke Zinessan. "Sendai and Abizigal of the five both fell before him, and they were no mean opponents for a human to face."
"No mean opponents, but no intellectual geniuses either." Said the sultry priestess. "The attempts they made were of brawn, not brain, as the humans say."
"As the humans say..." Vishiree echoed. "So now you're adopting thier words?"
Drieza's lips curved into a smile that betrayed nothing. "In knowing your enemy..."
Vishiree hmphed and turned to her male leutenant, though he wisely remained impassive.
The elf raised an eeybrow at the male questioningly. "What? Nothing to say?"
Zinessan made a small, helpless gesture that was rather undrow-like before offering a change of subject. "How soon untill the others arrive.?"
"A matter of days at this rate.... if you're reffering to those two dull- witted smelly beasts." Drieza said.
"And the... mad one?"
"The sorceress is already among us." Said Vishiree. "She will be most usefull, worry not."
*********************
The northern High Road. Two days from Waterdeep.
The air had become steadily crispier, though the two travelers did not notice the gradual, steady change. They had been setting a fast pace. Perhaps it was out of force of habit; a sense of urgency had always before guided their feet. The wind no longer blew dust in their eyes, for the terrain had gradually shifted to that of a more fertile region. Farms littered the countryside. The occasional roadguard made their patrols, on the lookout for the raiding orc parties that still threatened the defenseless farmlands. Off in the distance there burned the dim lights of several, tiny villages like campfires against the persistant darkness of the night sky.
"Hm... Not much further, I say. Waterdeep be but a stone's throw by the looks of it." Said Korgan.
Minsc frowned. "I do not understand why anyone would throw rocks at such large cities, unless those cities hide the darkness of evil in great amounts."
Korgan was about to shoot back a reply, but stopped himself, as if reminded of something. Suddenly he seemed apprehensive.
"Minsc, boy, I've been thinkin. Perhaps ye should go on yer own way to yer homeland. Go on with ye, ye need follow me no longer."
The large man shook his head. "No, Boo once said that friends should stick together, and so we shall! Boo is smart, trust me. Though some people need convincing of this, I don't. Boo has already prooven it to me." Minsc smiled, as if proud of himself, then continued. "Besides, it is a simple stop along the way for me."
Korgan furrowed his brow at the ranger. "Minsc... they ARE in opposite directions...."
Minsc opened his mouth to reply, but thought better of it and consulted his hamster first. Soon enough, he proudly turned to his companion with a ready answer. "Boo says that everything lies on the path forward, nothing is opposite.
With that the two continued to walk in silence. Korgan stayed to the rear, darkness clouding his already rough features as he regarded his companion's back. Despite himself, he was actually growing fond of the dull ranger's company. Although he was set in his course, he knew that he would greatly regret burying his axe in the ranger's thick skull, should it ever come to that.
In a voice too low for the ranger to hear him, he grumbled. "Can't say I didn't give ye a way out, fool boy."
It would only be a matter of time before they reached Waterdeep.
----------------------------
Yes yes yes... I know it's been a month since my last chapter, but you have to understand.... I have a situation! I'm also taking my big test this week, which I've been studying for, and my mind as rather focused on more relevent informantion.... such as Elizebeth Taylor's previouse marraiges. You have to understand the weight of the stuff I've been studying... it creates a writer's block all in itself. So you see, there are many distractions that can keep me from writting a new chapter... and phew! Talk about distractions! Yesterday, while I was taking the first part of my test, I was sitting next to this SEXY Hungarian babe. Black hair against smooth, pale skin, dark eyes and a nice pair of 36Cs. Did I mention she wasn't wearing a bra? Every time I glanced over I could see right down her dress.....
Okay, so maybe I didn't score so well on that test.
The good news is that I have bought a new pack of tea. Also I've been thinking of new styles of writting... So I'll be learning more from other authors and trying to intigrate them into my own style. I'm still developing my own style, you see. Readers or Ed Greenwood and R.A. Salvatore can easily see their influence in my fanfic. Hell, every author's influenced by the books they read. If they havn't read book,s they're generally sucky authors. Take, for example, the fanfic entittled "Data" in the Star Trek section. No, I'm not going to flame it, it wouldn't be my style to diminish another author's efforts in writting. However, I am merely going to use it as an example of how NOT to write a fanfic.
(Damn! That Hungarian chick was HOT)
Which brings up something I've been thinking about for a while. Can't we just... you know.... purge all the crappy fanfics from fanfiction? I mean, why not? Only leave the good stuff. Like mine (Hey, that's not me ego talking, that's you guys saying I'm good.). Oh well.
Polyester, silk and nylon-based clothes are far more comfortable then simple cotten. I swear, these shorts make me feel like I'm not even wearing them. You know you've got a good wardrobe when you occasionally have to check to make sure you're still wearing it. This can take some getting used to if you frequent the mall, or a fancy resturant, but it is a sharp contrast to... say... military gear.
For that matter... why can't we all just walk around naked?
(Like that Hungarian chick... love to see her naked....)
My next chapter shouldn't take so long this time. Also, you may find spelling mistakes in this one (don't tell me about it, I already know) because I'm not going to spell-check it. I'm just going to post it.
Specail note in responce to Wraith's post:
Ah yes! You CAN change Viconia's alignment. You CAN make her a better person. But how? Many people have wondered this, and as per your request, I shall provide a detailed list of instructions that will no doubt melt her cold, black drow heart.
Step 1: Be polite.
Yes, be polite when she bludgeon's your backside with her newly-aquired flail because there apparently was an insect on it, or so she says. Do not take offence to this. Remember, you don't want to hinder her spiritual growth, but you should instead turn around and allow her to squash the insects along your chest, stomache, and groin area as well.
Step 2: Be patient.
Patience is a virtue. When you are bleeding to death and literally begging Viconia to heal you, be patient. After all, if she said she would cast a healing spell after she has done her hair, her nails, applied her facail cream and slept at least 12 hours (her beauty sleep, of course) then she will. Don't insult her by asking more then once, this might make her think that you doubt she heard you the first time, and hence, hinder her spiritual growth.
Step 3: Trust her.
Trust is one of the most fundumental aspects of any relationship. Trust her to know what spells to cast in a difficult battle. Should she turn you into a small rabbit, trust that it was out of her superior wisdom that she did so. Keep in mind that she is drow, after all. Thus, she is a higher form of life and understands things that you cannot begin to grasp. Should she sling a stone directly into the back of your skull as you duel toe-to- toe with the world's greatest of villians, trust that she had a reason for doing so and kindly oblige her by promptly loosing consciousness.
Step 4: Indulge her.
As your relationship grows, you will be grealty blessed by the few-and- far between opportunities to indulge Viconia. Do not waste this chance. If she summons spiders to watch them play with you, kindly allow them to sample your flesh. Don't resist, as this might maker he indignant and hinder her spiritual growth. If she starts a conversation, immediately agree with whatever view she expresses and support her when she proposes that all human males should be castrated at the first sign of disobedience. Remember, she is drow. Thus she is a higher form of life.
Step 5: Support her.
Though for most women this would be in a figurative way, for Viconia you must jump at the chance to litterally support her! Do not dare subject her to the rigors of walking, but rather you must carry her across the wastes, the jungles, the dungeons and through the cities. Be sure to construct a suitable, mobile throne for her, or course, as you may not be allowed to touch her directly.
Step 6: Give great head!
Eventually, your relationship will reach the point where Viconia will graciously allow you to go down on her. Remember, if she hasn't kept herself clean it may be because she is testing your endurance. Do not dispair. The effect should be no more lethal then your standard Cloudkill spell. Nevertheless, you will likely be down there for some time, so be sure you wear a ring of regeneration to ensure your survival. Also while some women, thinking themselves rather kinky, would use a whip to encourage you, Viconia would most likely stick to the flail. She is drow, after all. You may want to wear two rings of regeneration
Steps 7-65: Repeat step 6.
Step 66: Be perfect.
Viconia will not allow there to be any flaws in her man of choice. Waste no time in becooming perfect. Remember, you must encourage her spiritual growth by setting an exemple in this fashion. Make no mistakes of any kind. No the correct path to every situation and leave no margin for error. This step is a must.
Step 67: Repeat step 6.
Step 68: Play Throne of Bhaal.
This is essentail. The change in alingment will only occur late in the Viconia romance while playing Throne of Bhaal.
Step 69: Repeat step 6, then add 9.