Disclaimer: I'm starting this chapter at about 4 in the morning. I just paused a moment to scratch myself. I have a five o'clock shadow and my hands feel a little cold. I'm wearing clean socks. I have showered recently.
Dislexic: Greetings, to my two faithful readers. I am, as always, Dislexic. How are you? How old are you? Are you sure you should be reading this? What is your favorite color?
Irenicus: He's been without tea.
Dislexic: That's not true!
Irenicus: He's also been among the lemons, you see, so he's not completely right in the head at this moment.
Dislexic: Don't listen to him. Anyway, as you all know, if you have any questions, please submit them in your review and I shall hasten to answer them in the following chapter.
Irenicus: Also, a special thanks goes out to the TWO people who reviewed the last chapter.
Dislexic: Yes, I truly thank you, and look forward to the day when my stories will be read by three or perhaps four people.
Irenicus: As an aside, how long have you let certain questions go unanswered?
Dislexic: Far too long, my alter-ego! To whomever it may concern regarding the Black Razor: The sword really does kick ass, but as far as my story is concerned, my party received as per a freak accident involving the machine of Lum the Mad. Kincaid did not kill any Djinni to get it, ok? Hence, he keeps his alignment.
-*-*-*-
To Princess Gelindra Hammersun
does her most humble servant, Ikabar send his greetings,
My lady, it is a day of clouds, a day of sorrow. The sun daren't show his head on this eve of mourning. It is with no pleasure, my princess, that I pen these words to you. For I, myself did bear witness regarding the things I must write, and I know them to be true. With my own eyes did I see your betrothed, Lord Gravnis Akaidia fall to the blade. And I, for all my will and want could not take his place in the grave. Know that he died well, and quickly. He would not suffer to beg for life. Indeed, Lord Gravnis was noble to his very end. I shall be returning to your side within a tenday, my lady, and I pray that you forgive me for bearing such distressing news. I knew how much you loved each other.
Ikabar
1370 DR
*-*-*-*
Chapter 11
… Goes unpunished.
Keryn Vale. Evening. Outside the Fort-Castle.
Those who pass through simple villages at this time of year do well to keep themselves warm. Still with winter's frost holding on during cloudy days and night's ever-present chill the prospect of sleeping on a pile of hay for the night is not often a warming one. Few ever find themselves stripping to the skin, relieving themselves of the tiring yet necessary burden of travel-wear before taking the long dive into the pile.
Yet mostly anyone who passes, for the night, through such a village will find themselves accomidated by nothing more. Keryn Vale did boast a tavern, true, yet no inn. And why should it? The country was littered with thousands of such tiny hamlets.
What warrants attention to this scene, is far more then the issue of keeping warm. For two people, who by all rights should net be there, where there. Valygar held in a grunt he wished to expel as he scaled the outer wall of the Fort-Castle. Imoen was, he knew, floating somewhere above.
"Either they are overly confident, overly stupid, really tired, or expecting us." Whispered a voice by Valygar's ear.
"What makes you think that, Imoen?"
"No sentries, no guards on patrol. Mayhap they're all asleep, or lying in ambush." Came her reply.
That didn't surprise Valygar too much. It was quite possible that the Zhents had become aware of their presence and were indeed preparing an ambush. It was also possible that they all nodded off.
The tall Ranger grabbed hold of a section of the wall and pulled himself up a bit farther. "Going to get a closer look?" He grunted.
A slight pause. "In a minute…"
Four and a half feet later Valygar slipped. He quickly tried to grab on to the wall but his hands found no hold secure enough. He would have fallen if not for a pair of invisible hands catching him.
"Mm… you're a little heavier then you think." Said Imoen as she helped the dark man up. "That could have been the doom of the mighty Corthalla ranger."
Valygar stiffened his hands as he found another hold - though he tested this one quite thoroughly - and was blissfully aware of Imoen's cinnamon scent. A pleasant, if unwanted distraction.
"Imoen. I…" Valygar soon found that words failed him.
"Yes, my partner in criminal justice?"
"….. Thank you."
The Ranger felt a soft kiss being planted on his cheek. The mage's 'You're welcome'.
He poked his head up over the wall-line cautiously, then pulled himself over the edge. Valygar soon understood what Imoen had meant. Now standing on the battlements of the small Fort-Castle, the ranger could make out no sign of inhabitants. No guards, no sentries, no nothing.
"Hm… spooky." The ranger whispered into the air.
"Well," The air answered back. "Shall we have a look?"
*-*-*-*-*
Valygar moved as silently and as smoothly as oil. His formidable weapons held close to himself, under his cloak to keep the light from reflecting upon it. Yet still, never had he been so confused, or worried. Well, perhaps once or twice in his past he had been in a more confusing situation, but this still was one of the more notable ones.
Not a single soldier made his presence known to the ranger. Though Valygar was a skilled tracker, every new turn yielded another empty hallway or room, and a new disappointment.
The Fort-Castle itself was not quite remarkable. The occasional tapestry hung here and the occasional battlement there. Furniture was what could be expected of a low-budget manor. The walls where constructed of the customary stone and wood combination. A cheap design. Overall, there was nothing special about it.
Save for that there was no one it.
Valygar entered the great hall, not that it was great, or much of a hall. It was, however, the only double-tiered room that consisted of a large, throne-like chair.
Valygar smiled at that. A throne to rule such a tiny hamlet. "Aren't we being presumptuous?"
"Quite, mouse."
The ranger spun, half-expecting Imoen to be behind him. Only it wasn't Imoen's voice, nor was it Imoen's person. A women garbed in sorcerers robes stood on the second level, looking down on him like a noblewoman would very a peasant or some other kind of rodent. Her hair was like a shiny black velvet, her features sharp and altogether wild, quite attractive actually. Her eyes were a deep emerald green. Pretty, but wild, and not quite sane either.
The woman sniffed. "Hm… pepper and rabbit. A tree-hugger. Well, mouse?"
Valygar frowned. "Who are you? What are you doing here? Are you with the Zhentarim?"
Ever wary, the ranger brought his blades up before him defensively. His mental training tuned on his magical resistance. If this odd wizard was planning on sending spells his way, Valygar would be ready.
Her expression did not change as she stepped closer to the edge of the second level. For some reason, there were no handrails build there. Cheap castle. "Zhent?" The woman hissed. "Predictable tree-hugger… do you know you, how you smell? It's a mouthful of forest logs and leaves. Some spice, but otherwise disgusting." Her voice was breathy, like that of a seductress despite the venom in her words. Her breathing in itself made small moans and sighs as if she breathed through her voice box. Nothing about her seemed normal. her posture proved to be just as wild as the look in her eyes with her head craning this way and that, her shoulders rolling and flexing and her hands clenched. "Zhents smelled better. Sweat and blood." She smiled at this. "Not dark enough to be among ME however… mouse."
The sorceress emphasized this with a clap of her hands. Dark shapes moved through the doorways in unnerving unison. Like wolves they circled their prey, and the Ranger knew with a deepening sense of dread that these were no Zhentish soldiers.
They were drow.
The sorceress smiled madly and took a step cleanly off the edge, and did not fall. "Sweat…" She whispered in anticipation, licking her lips. "And blood…"
Valygar took a quick count; there were seven. Seven drow swordsmen plus a sorceress seemed like bad odds, but the Ranger was determined.
"Oh? Fight?" The sorceress, floating many feet above him laughed. "No, dear mouse. You will be as your friend… wandering rabbit that smells like pepper." Imoen's unconscious form floated into view at the woman's bidding, no longer invisible. The sorceress raised an eyebrow at the Ranger's expression. "No, mouse. No fighting. There will be things for you, mouse, and your rabbit too. Where you're going, you'll have no trees to hug" A cackle. "Kiss them goodnight, there is no way out. Not for any of us…"
Valygar's will surged a tidal wave to match his anger and frustration. Lightning flashed as the Celestial Fury cut the air towards the first drow while Malakar moved with fluid grace as it deflected the first incoming blows. The Ranger was no mean opponent, his muscles surged with unnatural hardiness, his will focused to force away any spells the mad sorceress might see fit to hurl at him, but he was out matched.
The first three drow formed a semi-circle around him, each duel-wielding curved blades. Scimitars, the Ranger judged. The drow on either side moved in reflection of each other in an arc, crossing their wrists as they struck downward as the center drow double-stepped forward with a thrust.
Valygar was forced to retreat a moment, then Malakar flashed in a wide sweep with angled precision from right to left. The Ranger then followed through by stepping forward to meet the center attacker, Celestial fury leading. As the swords clashed, Valygar twisted his over that of the drow's and forced it down.
He did not expect to be able to push any kind of attack. Rather, he knew that his dark-skinned opponents would redouble their efforts and force him to give up more ground.
The two drow on either side went in low, cutting from outside so as not to tangle themselves up. Valygar was ready. As the center drow moved again for a quick kill, the ranger hopped back half a step, then pivoted forward and thrust his blades out diagonally, crossing his arms in front of him. The two drow smirked as they reflexively moved to parry the simple attack, but they were not the Ranger's intended targets. The center drow had barely a moment to raise his swords in a feeble defense which did not meet the mark. Valygar's katanas crossed like scissors and flew out wide. The cut was so clean that the center drow blinked for a second and opened his mouth as if to speak before the light in his eyes went out.
His head hit the floor soon thereafter. His body followed.
The other drow paid no heed to their companion's fall and pressed their attacks in synchronous with dark elven precision, forcing the Ranger to retreat further. During all this, the other four drow warriors did nothing but form a semi-circle around the sorceress, arms crossed and weapons yet unsheathed. The sorceress, for her part, yawned.
"No struggle, mouse." The woman red-robed sorceress whispered. "Fall and rest. Sleep, dear tree-hugger." With that she moaned and rubbed her hands together. Her half-lidded eyes glowed briefly as her hands parted once, then came together in a clap.
Valygar, for all his powers in resisting magic, fell to the ground in slumber.
The mad woman let out a deep, feminine, almost longing sigh that would have sounded erotic to any who did not know her. The Ranger had put up the effort she had expected him to, and would likely have continued for some time had she allowed him. Still she was disappointed, this one was too narrow-minded, and while he kept good care of himself, he still smelled like tree-bark to her, and that simply would not do.
The sorceress frowned, now reaching for a vial of thick red liquid from within the folds of her silken robes, so dark that it stained the glass that contained it. She reluctantly downed the contents, ignoring the protests of her stomach. Perhaps later she would find a more tasty replacement, she wondered, If what she heard about her quarry was correct, at any rate.
The drow soldiers gathered their new burden. The sorceress cremated the fallen drow. Within moments, there was no sign of any life within the Fort-Castle.
As for the citizens of Keryn Vale, they still believed for some time that they were under Zhentish occupation, not knowing that the trap had already been sprung.
And removed.
*-*-*-*-*
Overlooking Waterdeep. Meanwhile.
"Ah! It is so good to finally be here! Boo and I can hardly wait to tell every one we meet about the great deeds of goodness we have done!" Said a loud voice thick with a Rasheman accent. "We shall tell all until this city is out of water to wet our parched throats! Yes! Waterdeep shall be shallow!"
Beside Minsc, Korgan stood with his arms folded, as silent as a statue. The dwarf's gray eyes were two deep voids, empty of emotion.
"I wish I could say I'd be sorry to part ways with ye, Minsc." Korgan grumbled.
The tall berserker smiled down at his diminutive friend. "Wishes can come true, Boo told me." Boo squeaked in agreement.
The dwarf grunted and walked ahead of the Ranger several paces. He paused to view the city they had reached with his arms crossed. The time had come. Dawn was still far off, which meant that his hidden 'friends' were most likely there already.
"Boo and I are glad to have been in your company." Minsc said. The hampster squeaked. Korgan remained motionless. "Ah! The fields of Rasheman call us, so we must be on our wa-"
Minsc did not get a chance to finish his sentence. Nor did he feel the poisoned dart that had put him to sleep. Needless to say, he never saw the lithe, dark forms that surrounded him soon thereafter.
Korgan slowly looked to face the newcomers, scowling in irritation and unhidden hate for the dark elves.
"For a surfacer, you have done…. sufficiently." Said Zennisan with obvious reluctance. "This lout will please the Mistress, though I care not as to why. Most likely he'll serve as a trophy, his head hung over some cesspool." The other drow chuckled at that. Korgan did not. "Oh come, dwarf, treachery is not coming to you today, no, the Mistress has use of you and-"
The dwarf's eyes flashed. "That spider of a woman can bite my boot, after I clean your carcass from it first, drow!" Several drow snarled and reached for their weapons, but Zenissan lifted a warning hand. He was used to the dwarf's candor. Korgan's outburst did not surprise him.
"Then you are turning down your reward?" The drow captain asked coolly.
"Hmph! I'm tellin' ye to shut yer mouth before I fill it with yer black guts! Of course I'm no turning back on the deal, ye black bastard. Give me what ye promised and hold yer tongue, or I'll give that to your precious 'Mistress' too."
Despite the venom in his words, Zenissan actually liked the dwarf. Or rather, he understood him. Full of greed, and more then enough of other kinds of evil. So long as the rewards were appealing enough, Korgan could be controlled. Zenissan tossed a good-sized leather bag at the dwarf's feet. Korgan picked it up slowly, as if expecting treachery. He gave the bag a little bounce and heard it 'chink'. Then he opened it just enough to look inside quickly, before closing it with a smile.
"Done. Now let's be gone!" Korgan barked.
Zenissan made a gesture to the other drow, who collected the unconscious body of Minsc. One drow, Zenissan's chief lieutenant who was called Driezen, paused to share a look of great annoyance with his superior. Turning so that the dwarf could not see, his hands moved in the silent hand language of the drow.
Will we suffer that weal for long?
Zenissan only shrugged.
Driezen glared and signed, The other's will not be as patient as you. No drow will answer to his orders. If that iblith starts giving some…
Zenissan froze his liutenant with a glare and harshly gestured, They will be acknowlaged. Know that now is no time for disobedience.
Driezen recoiled. It is not that. It is the moral of the men that concernes me. Others are not as prudent as you or I. They would allow thier pride to rule them.
See to it that they do not. Zenissan replied.
*********
With the world full of it's intruiges and wonders, if any one man where to know of all the activities to happen upon it in a single minute would take years to summerise in writting. Pursueing such knowlage has been the course of many a scholor. Often they spend thier lives devoted to the aquisition of useless knowlage.
Then there are those who focus only on unraveling certain mysteries.
"It doesn't make sense." Grumbled Kincaid. The blue-haired mage was sitting on empty air, his head in his hands and the sword taken from thier most recent quarry floating in the air above him. They were only a day away from Waterdeep and while they would have gladly continued on through the night, prudence demanded that they regain thier lost spells.
"Canon fodder! Do these people know this when they're sent off to thier deaths?" He continued.
Mertallo shook his head slowly. "I don't think so. Alright, I can buy that blood-hungry thugs are given knives and told to kill. Sure. Plausable. But the weapons kill them too, after a time."
"Cannon fodder..." Kincaid repeated
"Oh stop it." Said Viconia. The beautiful drow was tending to several long strips of meat hovering a foot over the campfire. Her dark eyes seemed shrewd in it's light. "It's not far removed from a drow tactic. Give weapons to those eager to kill along with promises of glory and power. It seems logical enough. The real power behind all of this is yet unseen."
The old wizard spread his hands. "You mean the drow tactic where they use goblins as thier frontline skirmishers?"
Viconia nodded. "Use the fodder first, and grow strong. Save the real strength for what's left."
Kincaid mumbled with his head in his hands. "Cannon fodder."
The drow smirked and resumed tending the meat. "Granted, yes. However I... "
Kincaid looked up, curiouse. "What is it?"
Viconia waved a dismissive hand. "The steak is done. I hope you like yours rare."
Mertallo winced, which only made Kincaid smile more broadly. They ate in relative silence. It would be a rare thing indeed if they were beset by danger this close to the jewel of the north, so Mertallo took the opportunity of turning in early that night. The old wizard's snores were quieted with a globe of silence spell Viconia wasted no time in casting.
"Thank you." The blue-haired mage murmered. Earlier, he had sent the remains of his dinner far off into the night to feed some animal.
The drow favored him with an agreeable smile, sitting in front of him. "So, how're you coming along with what I've been teaching you?"
Kincaid raised his head and blinked.
The elf raised an eyebrow gestured expectantly. "The strong survive."
Kincaid quickly replied. "Lil gareth dro'xun."
The drow nodded and continued. "However, the smart thrive."
Kincaid paused briefly. "Relu'oh lil ne'kalsa te-smur"
Viconia smiled. "Very good. Now... We live for one reason."
The mage replied almost without thinking. "Usstan ssinssrin ulu v'ren dossta khel."
Viconia's started at that unexpected responce, but a catlike smile took form as her eyes narrowed. "There will be plenty of time for that later, I assure you. I'm glad to see you've learned quickly, though. One thing, however. The language varies slightly from city to city, sometimes house to house. Many words in Common have obscure translations."
Kincaid returned her smile and made a half-nod as his head returned to his hands. A small groan escaped his lips, disturbing the otherwise peaceful night. Lately he had been quiet, his eyes somewhat red. The elf felt a pang of concern for the man whom she had grown so close to.
Viconia kneeled before her lover and took his head between her hands. She frowned with concern. "How's your headache?"
"It's still there. But it's subsided a little."
The drow frowned. "Two days... what do you think it could be? Something unnatural?"
Kincaid rubbed his eyes. "Hard to tell. At first I though it was getting worse the closer we got to Waterdeep... but now." The mage sighed. "It's better now, you know. Just don't shout, ok?"
Viconia smiled. "Deal."
Kincaid covered one of her slender hands over with his. He closed his eyes and let her fingers slide across his face. Her touch was so soothing to him. At times he wondered how he ever relaxed without it. When his eyes opened again. They were seriouse.
"What were you trying to say before?"
Viconia looked down hesitantly. "I hope it's nothing but... I've been trying to think of possible candidates as to who our enemies are. Using goblins as cannon fodder is nothing new to most of the evil races. Using humans... Well, that narrows the field."
The mage nodded. "Go on..."
The elf paused a moment. "The Zhentarim don't use those tactics, as far as I know. Niether do the Githyenki. There's the Illithids..."
"That would explain my headache." Kincaid said ruefully.
"But not the fodder themselves. They did not show the mechanicle movements or blank faces of somewhat who's mind was controlled. Then the drow themselves."
Silence hung between them for several moments. Kincaid had inwardly feared that it would be them. True, they had dealt with the drow before, but on those occasions the blue-haired mage had been sure to work the situation to their favor. They had fought on his terms and had succeeded because they were well-prepared. With the tables reversed, however, the Drow were more then formidable.
"Indeed," He said at length. "Then we'll have to prepare for the worst and hope you're wrong."
His lover favored him with one of her more beautiful smiles. "Ohh... poor human. I thought by now you'd learn that I'm never wrong. It must be my fault, not showing it to you as blatently as I should."
"Yes, quite right. I just don't learn fast enough. Really, Viconia, why do you bother keeping me around?"
A dark chuckle escaped her lips. "Why, to make me look better, of course. And to carry things and do menial labor."
Kincaid gave a weak smile. "Sorry I'm not doing my job, lover, because you don't look any better."
The two shared a quick laugh before the mage winced. He held Viconia's hand against his temple and closed his eyes.
"You really need to get some rest." Viconia slowly carressed her lover's face as she spoke, then leaned forward to kiss him. Kincaid opened up to the kiss, enjoying the familiar contact of the one woman who truely knew him. Her touch was both electric and soothing, cool and refreshing as the crisp night air. Viconia gently brought him to the ground, making sure he was comfortable as she let the power of her spell flow through her lips and into him. The pain of Kincad's headache did not follow him into his dreams, and the mage was greatful for that.
"Rest you shall, my mrann d'ssinss." Viconia said with satisfaction. Kincaid and Mertallo where both quietly alseep. Both safely under her watchful eyes.
**********
Beneath Waterdeep.
Now the occasional rat scampered here and there to aquire some sort of food to eat, while the comparitively larger denizens of Waterdeep's infrastructer remained still for the most part. Not that they ever dared to venture towards the surface, for the Waterdeep itself was named the city of splendors with good reason. Any underground creature lucky enough to make it under the sky would soon find it's luck cut short under the heel of a guard's boot. So the Kobolds, goblins and other ill-fated creatures had to contend themselves with being this close.
Shadows here and there shifted. This in itself was not unusual, for this part of the underground had little, if any light to cast shadows. Faces unseen accompanied the shadows. Dark, seriouse faces with eyes that glowed red in the dark.
The kobolds and goblins did well to give the drow a wide birth. Still, some that did not move quickly enough were made to remain still, never to move again. Those who lived and dared to gatch a glimpse of the dangerouse elves saw them head towards to east corridor. That part of the cavern was not traveled often, for it lead to the surface.
To Waterdeep.
**********
I'd like to say in my defense that I've been dreadfully busy this past month. I've moved, you see. I've changed jobs. Yes, I've moved up a step, going from fast food to the much higher paying job of tech support.
Yeah, I suddenly look much more attractive you you ladies, don't I?
Joking aside, I don't recommend getting into this line of work. It's stressful. Most of the day I deal with complete idiots who think I can just type something into my box and make all thier errors go away. Yah, uh-huh. Sure.
As you can imagine, there's a long and involved ritual used to wind down after such a day at work. The first step is - of course - a double shot of Bacardi Rum, followed by one solid hour of video games. Neverwinter and Morrowind are both good choices. Then a shower would be in order, followed by no less then half and hour of sitting down and starring off into space. This is known as "standby mode". Obviously, the next step would be to put something lightwieght on and proceed to the gym where there would take place a long-overdue venting of anger and frustration on the apartment complexes punchin bag (my favorite part.). Wieghtlifting is next, then food, and if the day had been particularly stressful, more rum. Tea, I've noticed, is not quite as effective when winding down.
However, I still do, of course, drink tea. Every morning at my fist availible break (you have to punch a code in even to take a shit, by the way.) I go get myself a seventy-cent tall cup of tea. They have Eight flavors!!
For more information, watch the movie "Office Space".
One last thing. I'm currently working on a couple of other projects. Look for a new paordy of Metal Gear Solid 2, done by me, and a novel in the Tekken section. Maybe sometime next month, I guess.