Disclaimer--I do not own the forgotten realms setting, but I do own the characters used within the story. In other words, DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT TOUCHING THEM! I SWEAR I'LL SIT ON YOU!
A.N.--This is my first FanFiction, so if you don't like it, stuff a sock in it. If you do though, please R&R!
AIDEN'S FLAME
Prologue
Aiden, with his shoulder-length, uncombed blond hair, his blue eyes and gray tunic several sizes too large for him, was not very impressive to set eyes upon. Looks can be deceiving, he thought to himself with a smile.
He was young for the streets of Waterdeep and Skullport which he now roamed. Aiden was merely 140 years of age. He had been an orphan most of those years, having had his mother die in his birthing, and his father in the defense of Evermeet.
Aiden had taken refuge in the arms of a lesser noble house until he was old enough to live on his on, or so he thought, when he ran from his home, setting sail with an old friend of his father's for the human continent. The journey across the seas was rough, but nothing compared to what had awaited him on the other side.
After that, he had bounced around Faerun. Traveling to every town he came near, searching desperately for a purpose that did not exist, and fighting many, many battles. Finally, he had decided to stay for awhile in Waterdeep. Not that he admired the city, though. He stayed for Skullport.
He liked the roughness of the city under Waterdeep, but was not ill-witted enough to take residence in the city he would be hunting in. In his travels, he had found a purpose only when a sword was drawn against him. For a human, such might be common. But for an elf, especially a moon elf, it was unheard of.
This was his first trip to Skullport, and he was unarmed. Looking around at the populace of thieves, drow, deep gnomes and other such creatures, Aiden understood why it was suggested by the guard that he stay in the protection of the light, which Aiden had fully failed to do; instead, he'd broken the man's nose and walked on. It wasn't the advice that had caused the attack--the man had tried to block Aiden's path. That behavior simply could not be tolerated.
A woman's scream came from somewhere, interrupting his musings.
Aiden looked in the direction of the scream and guessed it had come from the alley directly ahead and to the right of him. He smiled -- this was why he was down here, after all. He ran to the mouth of the alley.
Stopping, he looked at the scene. Four drow, all heavily armed, one on top of a barely-conscious woman.
He smiled. The drow were the natural enemies of the light elves. Killing them was an honor, as well as a pleasure.
"Hail ye, dark brothers!" he called out, hoping to get the drow off the lady before he could harm her further. He could not see her face; it was so dark down here, even with his elven vision, he was lucky to see his hands.
All four drow turned at once, startled. They started to walk around him, the dark elf on the lady delivering a punch to knock her out. If they surrounded him, they could strike from all sides at once, giving him opportunity to block only one strike.
"Four of you, against one unarmed elvish child? You flatter me by thinking me so powerful!" he exclaimed with a warm smile. "Or, is it that you think yourselves thus weak? You!" He gestured to the largest, dumbest-looking one. "Duel me! I am unarmed; how much of a threat might an unarmed child be to such a fine, aged drow like yourself?"
The dark elf was at least twice Aiden's size, strange for elves. In general, they were a small, well-toned people. Aiden was quite large for elven standards, especially once age was factored in.
This had better work, he thought. It was a long shot, certainly -- drow had no honor, but maybe they did have enough pride to make this work. He hoped it did work, for if this failed, he could well die here. He was a skilled warrior, but four drow was pushing it, even for himself. Perhaps he could take one or two, maybe even three, if lucky. Four…
Was a problem for another day. The dark elf appeared to have accepted the challenge. He said something to the others in dark elvish, and they all backed away. The drow who had been on top of the lady had a crossbow out. Just in case, Aiden hoped.
But they had obeyed him, which meant Aiden had judged right, and picked the captain. He had hoped to take out the strongest first, and so he would.
Their captain drew his sword and started forward. Aiden thought about drawing the dagger he had kept in his boot for the past three years, never having had reason to use it. No, he preferred to fight with his hands, and if he died he might as well die doing what he loved so.
The drow took his first swing, and Aiden dodged back easily. Good, the dark elf wielded a two-handed sword, strong but slow swings. Openings. Very good.
Two more swings were mostly dodged, one scoring a slight cut on Aiden's chest, before Aiden made any attack. On the third swing, he moved his torso back without stepping, jumped forward and punched the man in the stomach.
Aiden danced back immediately, before the dark elf got his chance for revenge. His opponent's swing did not come near touching him.
Doing the same as before, Aiden managed to land a ridge-hand to the drow's face, breaking his nose.
The vengeful swing missed again, and the drow was getting angry. Carelessness came with anger. Let the idiotic drow get upset; soon he would not matter to anyone.
As the drow's dozenth swing came, Aiden dove under it. His heel caught the unsuspecting drow solidly in the groin.
Aiden rolled to a stand behind the drow, and, before the drow could turn, jumped and kicked out, first to the dark elf's back, then to his head. But the jump didn't stop. He landed on the drow's shoulders with a great deal of pain at the jolt to his manhood.
But Aiden did not mind pain, so he recovered long before the dark elf. He liked fluidity, and this was not what he had had in mind. Sighing with disgust, he broke the drow's neck without any of his accustomed finesse.
He fell, Aiden still perched on his shoulders. Aiden let his legs go stiff, and stepped off and away from the man, trying to move as fast as possible so the remaining drow did not get any undue openings.
Aiden turned to two raised daggers and a dart he had to jump away from to avoid being hit. "Would any of you have an interest in a duel?" Aiden asked, side-stepping a dagger lunge and another dart. "Suppose not then."
Two of the remaining drow had daggers in hand, the other the crossbow. No need for a weapon, if I can get these two goons before I get hit by the drow's darts, he thought. The one with the crossbow, he must be a mage. Why isn't he casting? Did the lady duel him in a wizarding battle, or is he simply saving his strength?
Aiden did not dare glance at the woman as he dodged another lunge: they would kill him if he left any opening, however small.
Aiden stepped to the outside of a coming attack, blocked the arm, then spun around, pressing his body against the drow's. Aiden delivered a firm elbow to the back of his neck, then stepped away as a crossbow dart meant for him found purchase in the drow.
The dark elf went down, but started up again. The drow's companions were not as shocked as Aiden at this. Dark elven crossbow darts contained a sleeping poison potent enough to knock out its victims in less then a breath. Very few resisted it, and even those could not throw off its effects with a shrug.
Aiden filed it to be thought of later, then jumped and spun, kicking out and using his boot like a hammer to drive the dart into the dark elf's heart. The drow let out a cry of pain, and crumpled to the ground.
The other dark elf was already coming at him when he turned. Stepping into the lunge, he hooked the drow's arm with his right and elbowed the drow hard in the throat. It would kill him, given time. But…you never leave a wounded warrior capable of wielding a blade.
Aiden stepped away from the drow, and struck with all his strength at the arm he had hooked.
Grabbing the knife as it fell, Aiden turned to the wizard. The dark elf was nowhere near as buff as Aiden, and he was confident he could take the drow if no magic was unleashed. But the drow was reaching into his piwafi, likely for a wand.
"I am sorry, I do not feel up to battling a mage. Give the lady my sorrows when she wakes," Aiden requested as he turned to leave. At the very mouth of the alley, he heard the man utter a trigger phrase. Jumping to one side, he rolled and threw the knife at the drow. Perfect throw, right in the neck where his piwafi did not protect. Instant death to the caster.
He turned to the woman. She was still unconscious, and had a few small cuts on her. She was nude. Removing his tunic, he looked around. No clothes; had they stripped her then taken her here? If so, from where?
Aiden shrugged and sighed. He could think about this later. Right now he had a nude and wounded lady to tend to. He placed his tunic over the lady, still wearing his elven mail and a layer of clothing under it. If he had learned one thing in his travels, it was never to worry about having too much armor against an attack.
He turned and scavenged the drow bodies. He was not a thief, but the dead had few needs, and he considered the battles he fought as duels for the other's items and life.
He found three swords, five daggers, the wizard's spell book, ashes of the wand that had been used up, a crossbow with a fair stash of darts, and various spell components as well as all their armor and clothing.
Placing the weapons about his person and the garments in his pack, Aiden wrapped one piwafi around the woman like a robe and hefted her into his arms.
The effort almost killed him: She weighed more than her slender form portrayed. He managed to lift her securely into his arms on the second try, and got to his feet.
Aiden walked with her in his arms back to the surface, and the light. There was never light in Skullport, or the rest of the Underdark. It was now first light, and he had left at dusk. Had he truly been gone that long? No human could have been, but of course, Aiden wasn't a human. Elves were capable of running a full day without the need to rest.
Aiden stepped into the blinding light of the rising sun, ignoring the pain in his eyes. He emerged in an area not far from the inn where he was staying. He looked around him for foes, but he was surrounded by only the quiet streets of Waterdeep and its old buildings. The streets would be swarming with people soon. People who would ask questions about an elvish child carrying a human woman wrapped in a drow piwafi, questions he did not want to answer just yet.
A.N.--Hope you like it! R&R!