Disclaimer: Final Fantasy is an RPG; it's the RPG for me. It's the only one I need. Final Fantasy is all that I play. All other games are lame; it puts them all to shame. I only play games that are popular; I only buy games that the magazines tell me to buy. That way I know I'll get good games, for sure. You may think I have a shallow mind; well you can kiss my behind.
In response to Vhalior's post;
Dislexic: Okay. Vhalior, I don't see you correcting too many Harvard English papers here. Do I look like Harvard materiel? Vhalior, When you came here and opened up my story, did you see a diploma on my wall that said "Harvard English Student?"
Vhalior: Uhh…
Dislexic: Did you see a diploma on my wall that said, "Harvard English Student?"
Vhalior: No, I didn't.
Dislexic: Do you know why you didn't see a diploma on my wall that said "Harvard English Student"?
Vhalior: no, why?
Dislexic: Because it's not there, because studying English at Harvard isn't exactly what I do! I sit down and I start typing, and I don't do grammar or spelling like a Harvard English student and that's okay!
In response to Rikku's post;
WellI'vealwaysbeenattractedtogirlswithpointedears,whitehairandjet-blackskin. I'vealsohadasoftspotforgirlsthatweararmorandcarryswords.thosegirlsarethebest.ButIhavn'tseenanyaroundhere,sobigtitsandlurvpassionsoundgreattome!
In response to Kaltia's post;
What are you talking about? Ruto's hot! Oh, and thanks for the input. It's nice to get some positive feedback once in a while. The same goes to all those others who reviewd my work. See, I have no idea weather or not (check if out Vhailor! I used to wrong version of "weather" in a sentence.) my work is any good unless those who read it leave a message… or perhaps a long paragraph. Occasionally, I get a short story for a review, and I just want to let you know that I do enjoy reading every one.
Anyway, I'm continuing one with Chapter 13, here, and I may just end up posting the story on multiple places….. or online libraries. The bulk of my stories are still based here, in Fanfiction.net. not to say that I have a bulk of stories, or that any of this matters.
Irenicus: Just a moment. Now keeping in mind those of our readers who don't have the D&D rules memorized, you may want to explain a few things about the last chapter.
Dislexic: Okay *sigh* Fine! So what if I used the wrong "weather" in my sentence, really? Who gives a damn?
Irenicus: Uh.... I was talking about the events.
Dislexic: That much I cannot reveal, not just yet. I'm sure some readers are wondering as to the reason behind Kincaid's disappearance, or how it was done. That much will be explained in this coming chapter, along with more of those never-ending author's notes. I'd write more, faster, but you see I'm kind of busy.
Irenicus: And by busy you mean downloading all that manga from ezmanga.com, fearing the day when the site will go down for good?
Dislexic: Uh…. *innocent look* nope. I just happed to have a job that eats up all of my time. Hmm… doesn't this sound familiar?
Irenicus: Actually it does. Every other author uses that excuse.
"It's actually a rather interesting tale, that. I'd tell it, but chose not to on the grounds that what I say may incriminate me."
Jan Janson
The hearing of Jered Kincaid
Business above grounds was not going as usual. Fewer people ventured out of their homes then normal. No one really knew why. But many people suspected, and that was enough by far. It was the same feeling you get when you are alone in your house and you don't feel alone.
A presence. Elusive, with no concrete evidence of it being there, yet you know. Of course, there were those who, for one reason or another – be it stupidity or alcohol – remained blissfully unaware to this strangely unwelcoming feeling.
Below the city, below the Harlimberg estate, Jered Kincaid felt more unwelcome then the lot of them. Or perhaps worse, very welcome.
The first thing Jered noticed was that his headache was gone. The second was the web-like ropes that held his body in place. The third was the eyes of the drow who looked upon him. She was a lithe figure, and quite beautiful at that. Her black skin was covered by a rather exquisite white dress that looked as though it could have been a wedding gown. Her silky white hair reminded him of Viconia, as did her eyes.
"Awake?" The drow whispered.
"….."
"I'll take that as a yes."
"What are you planning?" Jered muttered.
She looked a little disappointed as she approached. The lithe drow took a seat on empty air, leisurely crossing her long, shapely legs. Mage, Kincaid through to himself, or cleric.
"And here I was hoping we could have an intelligent conversation…"
Kincaid looked up. "What?
"Your question was so painfully typical, my dear male. You are now our prisoner, so you ask what any prisoner would ask of his captor. Could you not be a little more creative? I've heard this all before, believe me."
Kincaid actually smiled at that. Even in this dim light, he could see the sharp features of her face. She had a shrewd look. Intelligent, Kincaid noted.
"I've been waiting a long time to meet you, and here you are."
Kincaid straightened as much as the ropes would allow, bringing him to a kneeling position. "How did you bring me here?"
"How do you think?"
"Your not one to just give me the answers, are you?"
The drow smiled sweetly, but said nothing.
"It was the sword, wasn't it? That part of the enchantment that I could not figure out, it was to dull my wits."
She nodded. "Vishiree was more inclined to take you by force. That was my idea."
"Rather well executed, at that."
"Thank you."
Kincaid subtly began testing the bonds that held him. The ropes were like webs, sticking to his skin as the wrapped around him. They were as strong as silk, and Kincaid knew that even his unnatural strength would not tear them.
"And here I thought I was walking into a nest of illithids."
She leaned toward him. Her eyes glinted with mischief. "You're smarter then you know."
"Don't tell me. You enchanted to sword with the help of such a creature?"
"Indeed."
"I had concluded that those weapons were mass-produced for the cannon-fodder."
The drow nodded quickly. "We made several of them, but not as many as you think."
"And the fact that they are of Amcathran make?" Kincaid pressed. "What of that?"
The stunning drow female yawned mildly. "Surely the great child of Bhaal has more on his mind then that. Really, Jered, you seem to be too occupied with trivial matters rather then what you should be doing."
"And that is?"
The drow elf leaned back. She re-crossed her long legs and tossed an errant lock of silky white hair back. To her, the human was as base as he was a mystery. Aside from his appearance and hair color, he would seem no different from the rest of the rivven they had firmly placed under their heel on the surface above. She was not so easily fooled that that, however. Kincaid had toppled foes far greater then she when the odds were very much against them. He was a tactician, this human.
"You're smart, human, I'm sure – Despite Vishiree's belief to the opposite.. What situation are you in?"
Kincaid nodded, taking up her queue. He analyzed. Her, this place, the time, - he reviewed what information he currently had. The drow female had mentioned the name Vishiree in the terms that she was an associate. Further, the fact that he was still alive alluded to the possibility of escape. He would have to be ready. Kincaid's mind calculated wildly the possible methods and contingencies, the scenarios played over in his mind upon the limited knowledge that he had. A part of him wondered if escape was what she meant to tell him secretly.
"Who are you?"
The drow smiled like a cat and dipped her head. "You may call me Drieza."
"A pleasure, Drieza. May I ask why you're not yet torturing me?"
That made her giggle. The drow stood then, and approached. Her hips swayed subtly. Not for the first time did Kincaid wonder as to what she intended to do with him. She ran one silky smooth hand down his bare chest, halting at his waist as her glowing red eyes burned holes at him. "Would you prefer that?"
Her scent wafted into his lungs. It smelled good, he had to admit. For whatever reason that was beyond him, Drieza was actually offering herself to him – Or at least teasing, and she was alluring. Kincaid closed his eyes and brought to mind the promising image of Viconia.
"Yes." He hissed, with some effort.
Her hand stilled, then left his skin. "Ah, yes. Viconia was her name, hm? The female that helped you crush Ust Nautha. So, she has you wrapped around her finger, does she?"
Kincaid bit back a sharp reply, instead saying simply, "What do you think?"
He expected a much harsher reaction then what he received. Drieza actually seemed pleased by his response. She leaned closer to him. "I think you're just being coy… or foolish. That's disappointing. I would have thought the one, only surviving child of Bhaal would be a lot more bold then this"
"Perhaps how bold I am when I speak relates to my situation."
Drieza chuckled. "Oh, so now you think you're smart."
"What do you think?"
Drieza turned and walked away. Kincaid did not see the door that she opened. He could not even see the walls of his cell, and in his mind he only had a limited mental image of what it looked like. From what he could tell, he was secured upright on a raised platform of some sort. Large teeth-like pillars stood on three locations encircling the platform.
The one ambient light source for the entire room glowed from directly above him. The light seemed to be angled just right so that he would be illuminated in the light, but other objects outside of his immediate circle of vision were not.
These things did not worry Kincaid so much as the deep sense of emptiness inside him. It was a cold, lonely feeling wizards rarely feel, but it was one only a wizard could truly appreciate. For as hard as he tried, Kincaid could not pull a single spell to mind.
Jered Kincaid, the mighty Kensai Mage and child of Bhaal was completely without magic.
"What have ye done now?"
The three friends ran headlong down the cobbled road. The mob of angry peasants was not too far behind them. Though the three of them with all their magical power would prove more then a match for the simple citizens, it was decided that wholesale slaughter of the people of Waterdeep would not be in their best interest. This fact was protested by Viconia, but she was outvoted one to four, since Danilo counted himself twice.
An airborne stone struck the hapless elf on her shoulder, causing her to stumble and then fall. The mob wasted no time in overcoming her as she rolled back up and got to her feet, deft as she was. A burly, bearded peasant man was upon her first with a club in hand. His swing was too slow – Viconia scrambled out of range and then swung her flail, arching forward enough to catch his weapon arm. The man's bones cracked and broke from the impact. His skin then burst at the wound into a bloody mess of pitted and half-eaten flesh as the acid took effect.
Neither to rest of the mob, nor the elf waited around to view the spectacle the man made as his viewed his ruined limb. Viconia was running at full tilt within a heartbeat, and the mob was hot in pursuit.
"That was close," Said the bard. His hands went to work while he ran, trying desperately to shape a spell. The bard stumbled, however, and the magic dissipated into an azure display of bright, quickly fading smoke.
Mertallo was more experienced with casting on the run. The old mage turned and pointed his finger at the approaching mob. Up from the ground rose a writhing mass of black tentacles. Some held on to the hapless peasants, other bludgeoned those that struggled.
"Ah-Ha!" the old mage cheered victoriously. "Now let us be off. We must hide."
"We should see my uncle," The bard suggested, "but we cannot simply bring a drow to the gates of Blackstaff tower with everyone looking.
"I can fix that." Mertallo said.
"So can I." the elf grumbled, darkly enough.
"No!" Both the mages said at once.
Several peasants began to break free of the tentacles, their clothes torn in many places. Most bore fresh bruises, some had a broken bone or two, all were very much irate.
Danilo turned and frowned at them, "This is not going to do my reputation well." With a sigh, the blond bard crafted a spell of darkness and aimed it straight at the lead man. A globe of darkness engulfed the area where his head was, and then immediately expanded to engulf the narrow street. The shouts of anger soon turned to ones of confusion, and then of coughing and vomiting when Mertallo followed up with a spell of his own, flooding the darkened area with a stinking cloud spell.
"That'll take the fight out of them." Mertallo said with a whistle.
Viconia eyes burned with silent anger at the globe of darkness. "They deserve far worse."
Danillo regarded her with concern. "My dark lady, so far I have heard only good things about you. Do you really believe what you say?"
The elf paused, her gaze dropped. "No… I'm just. It all happened so fast. Kincaid disappeared and then they... they make me so angry."
"Disappeared?" Danillo queried.
"Yes," She hissed. "like he teleported, or was summoned – he said he felt dizzy then he dropped and faded right there in my arms."
Mertallo put a firm hand to Viconia's shoulder then. "In a moment, lass. We'll need an explanation from you in a moment. First we must get ourselves to Blackstaff tower. We'll sort this out.
"Quite right, well said," Perked Danilo, "Might I suggest that we do so now, before yon mob vomits over our respective clothes? I can't speak for you, but I did not ward mine against bile."
Beneath the City. Gods know where.
Minsc' mighty Rashamen head, despite or perhaps because of its cracks, throbbed with an aching like the man had never before felt. It was as if the drow had lit a bonfire in his head to which they alternately threw water, and then fuel on to. He felt fine otherwise, safe for the uncomfortable feeling of restraint the web-like ropes gave him. Looking up from his sitting position, he saw another figure sitting against the opposite wall, similarly chained as he was.
Minsc was about to ask a question when the sounds of footfalls reached his ear. Soon the cell door opened – there was something familiar about the shape of that door – and therein entered two people. One was a red-robed sorceress, the other a drow warrior carrying a heavy burden. The burden Minsc soon recognized as Imoen.
"Ghah! Release me so that I might smash and liberally crush the evil that has done this to my friends and I."
The woman wringed her hands. "I think he used a complete sentence that time. Good. Very good. Maybe we could get him to work. This one doesn't. We'll have to change some parts or something."
The drow warrior wisely kept his mouth shut.
Minsc was not so wise. "Release me, foul woman clothed in the foul stench of evil… and red! Otherwise, Boo will bite you in places most people do not want to be bitten in!"
"Oh? Who Boo? Boo who?"
"Not boohoo – though I am sad to be chained up again. It's Boo! All should fear the righteous wrath of Minsc and Boo! And Sword too! Sword speaks for Minsc sometimes."
That made the insane woman laugh. Not a pleasant laugh, but one she enjoyed, "And does Minsc speak for himself? Or does his rat and sword do all the talking?"
The Rashaman puffed up his chest and pulled hard at the unyielding ropes. His struggles were to no avail. It seemed to be made of spider silk, and although Minsc was not underdark denizen, he knew how strong that would make them. He growled in frustration. "When dealing with evil, nothing else but swords need to do the talking."
"Does it sing too?" The woman in red did not wait for a reply, but turned to her companion. "Tie her down there. Wash her feet."
The male gave an incredulous look, nodded, keeping his comments to himself. Most male drow learn to do that early in life.
"As for you, ugly painted man! You're addled mind and addled hamster and your addled little limp sword with impurities all run through like river water on a hot day that addles the mind because the sun is too hot, it burns deep! Pull on the ropes and strain hard, but you never drag it up, never. It falls down, and yours goes with it. Into the fire, for it would be no better."
This time Minsc said nothing.
For a moment, the woman just stared at the huge berserker, her fit dying down. Then something seemed to flicker in her eyes. Like a brief moment of sanity or understanding quickly flushed away by horrors unknown. Horrors only a woman could understand. Regardless, there it was, brief though.
"You…. You look like me."
Now Minsc was not a man who went out of his way to understand things, even the simplest of which that slip through his grasp. "Eh, I don't understand what you mean, but Boo is suspicious."
The woman snorted. "Hamster speak. It's only your head. My name is Linira. We'll play later."
Linira jerked her head to one side, now looking at the cell's other occupant, besides Imoen. "Here mouse! A hamster for you, you two will get along. You both smell like pepper. Rangers, all!"
She threw her hands up in disgust and walked out, taking her insanity with her. The drow warrior followed suit.
Left alone in the darkness, Minsc wondered at what she meant by her final words. The thought mice crawling all over the cell did not bother him much, unless they were rats. Rats seemed to not get along with Boo too well. Minsc shuddered at the thought.
"Well," The voice of Valygar spoke out from the darkness, "We've been much worse off for wear.
Minsc looked up, but his human eyes could not see in the darkness. "Oh, My friend and comrade, Valygar! They've killed you and made you a floating voice! This is a sad day for all Rangers."
Valygar was about to argue Minsc' hypothesis, but only sighed, knowing the futility. "Then again, perhaps we have not."
Not too much progression with this chapter, just a few scenes. I'm sorry about that, but I felt the need to update my story like hell. I mean, C'mon Me! It's been about 6 months since my last chapter update. I'm pretty bad, huh? Damn this work, and the need to earn a living. Why can't I just have a job that I love to do…. Like write books or something. I could like… get paid to write books, and then people would pay me so that I would keep writing and like…. Buy me food and feed it to me, and bring me my jack & coke and maybe rub my shoulders while I type… or talk to me and give me ideas… or take long walks on the beach with and spend nights by the fire…
Okay, so enough happy thoughts. I don't believe enough people in the world now about my new awesome PC. I just built it myself, with some help from another tech friend of mine. I got a soyo p4x400 motherboard in an antec server chassis, a 2.533 proc, 7hundred something megs of memory and 180 gigs of hard drive space in a raid array along with a ti4600 video card. It's pretty sweet for only having to spend 800 dollars for the piece parts. I installed window 2000 advanced server myself (with some help from a tech friend of mine. Did I mention also the 5.1 speakers and the 19 inch pureflat monitor? No?
Well, my PC just plain rules! It's the one PC to RULE THEM ALL! This is gonna be so cool.
I think I'll make my own site, on my own server, and post up some of my stories there. Like maybe some LEMONS! ……………………………… maybe not. But maybe so…..
One last note. I'll put in those BG2 directions in my next chapter.