Summary: What does Aribeth's best friend have to say about her descent? Could she prevent it altogether?
Disclaimer: Neverwinter Nights and the characters and storylines therein are property of BioWare. The character of Febrien was created by and belongs to me.
Febrien dozed in the saddle, nearly tumbling to the ground as Kiera followed a bend in the wooded path. Snapping awake and righting herself, the elf reluctantly guided the mare to a shaded glen just within a copse of ancient elms. She had hoped to press on to the little town on the other side of the forest, but it would do her no good to fall off and get trampled. She very much doubted Kiera would actually step on her, but she decided not to take the chance.
Slipping from the leather saddle and tying the dark horse to a sturdy sapling, she untied her bedroll and pulled free the small pouch containing her flint and tinder. After a short sojourn through the forest, she returned with enough wood for a small fire. Once she had it burning merrily, she returned to the mare, unsaddling her and rifling around in the bags for some jerky and biscuits.
Traveling fare again, she thought, gnawing at the tough meat in resignation. I hope they'll have better food at the Academy. Maybe I'll spring for one of those fancy meals when I get there. She took a sip from the water flask and spread her bedroll, retrieving her cloak for a pillow. At last she summoned her animal companion, Fenris, to guard her while she slept, shielding her eyes from the brilliant shower of light and tossing the dire wolf the remainder of her jerky before lying down to rest.
Fenris shared in all her journeys and had been with her since long before her adventurer's career began. The massive silver wolf stood as tall as her waist and fought with great cunning, stealth, and speed. He was as invaluable to her as her own arms and made for a wonderful listener and traveling companion. The wolf now gazed at her with piercing amber eyes, tilting his head and giving an amiable bark before trotting off through the thick brush.
The ranger had been dozing less than an hour when a quiet growl dragged her back into consciousness. She was instantly alert, throwing her senses wide as she reached out and laid a hand on the hilt of her sword, restlessly searching the shadows for her companion. Fenris crouched at the very edge of the firelight, gazing at the path she had abandoned earlier. Febrien could just make out the sound of hoof beats approaching rapidly from the direction of Netara, her village. Grasping the scabbard of her weapon, she motioned for Fenris to hold position and quietly crept toward the row of old trees guarding the roadside.
Peering around the trunk of the stoutest tree, she caught a hint of rapid movement at the limit of her vision. Several yards away, a horseman was riding full-out, apparently fleeing from the large band of men rushing headlong after him. The elf squinted, focusing her acute vision on the man's face, taking in his sandy hair, wide green eyes, and hand-me-down cloak sporting several patches of various colors and patterns. Suddenly her eyes grew wide in recognition.
"Connor," she yelled to him, leaping up from her hiding place and dashing out into the middle of the track. The man's old gelding flinched as she appeared in front of him, throwing his head back and sitting on his haunches in an effort to stop. The horse gave a half rear as he finally skidded to a halt, his nose nearly touching her own. She grabbed the animal's reins and dragged him into the thick wood separating her from the camp, taking stock of his dazed rider as she whistled for Fenris.
Febrien saw Connor's lips moving as he rhythmically chanted the arcane words designed to partially conceal the party from sight. The ranger felt a strange tingling in the pit of her stomach as he continued, the sensation quickly spreading outward through her chest and extremities with each word he spoke. He completed the intricate incantation just as they cleared the circle of firelight. Febrien quickly secured the gelding's reins to a low hanging branch and kicked dirt over what was left of her fire.
Febrien and Connor huddled next to the horses, he struggling to untie his staff from the exhausted gelding, she with weapon drawn and senses on full alert. There was a rustling in the bushes behind them as Fenris crept up to lay his nose against her shoulder, but she could hear no sound from the horsemen. Puzzled, she leaned forward to get a better look at the road. As she did so, a figure slinking toward them caught her attention.
She recognized the lead horseman pursuing Connor by the leather eye patch he wore and the strange tattoo covering his left bicep. Another mottle-skinned rider materialized from the mist with two more close behind him, completing the group. Except for the leader, they all carried stout short swords with hilt decorations crafted into the shape of a reptilian eye just below the blade. Their commander, however, hefted a large broadsword, the silver blade gleaming wickedly in the scanty moonlight.
Febrien slammed her back against a tree, whispering a customary prayer to Tyr and rapidly taking stock of her surroundings. She knew she and her companions were supposedly invisible to the thugs, but she wanted to be prepared, just in case. She inhaled as the men closed slowly in around them, holding her sword ready and giving Fenris the signal to sneak around to the other side of the clearing and cover her flank. She glanced at Connor, noting that his spellstaff was held at the ready as well.
I wonder if he ever added that Ice Storm spell he was experimenting with? My wizardry's not nearly as good as his, and I wouldn't mind having a good offensive spell right now, she thought, catching his eye and pointing in the direction of their attackers. She raised her hand, ready to give the signal to attack. The signal never came. As she glanced around the tree once more she saw the men halt just feet away from their hiding place.
"We'll never find them in here," she heard the smallest man growl.
"He's right, Galmir" chimed in another, taller man as the leader glared at the now-cowering first speaker. "We couldna' make it through 'ere if every ring we own glowed white. If we lost the road, we wouldna' ever make it out." The other rider nodded his agreement, glancing nervously at the dark trees surrounding them.
Galmir glowered, but eventually conceded to the second man. "Fine, Silban, we'll leave. But you'll do the talkin' when we explain why we lost the little girl an' her wizard," he ground out in a voice resembling rocks breaking. He muttered something else, a touch of fear in his voice, but Febrien lost the words in the din of the men mounting their horses and galloping off.
She let out a sigh and glanced over at Fenris, a thoughtful gaze crossing her striking features. Why had these shady characters sought out a small time adventurer and her mid-level wizard companion? What creature could instill fear into the heart of such a big brute? Could it be that perhaps this journey was not all it seemed? It appeared she would have much to ponder this night.