(A/N: I took a hiatus for the holidays. I...had not anticipated that there would be such a boom in the fanfic population while I was absent. Well, I guess it's all one can expect with "Neverwinter Nights: Platinum" fresh in stores. Thank-you, to everyone who's stayed with me this long, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. Nars loves you too.
Disclaimer: Neverwinter Nights doesn't belong to me, truly.)
Chapter Two
The well room door burst into flame, quickly dwindling to a pile of burnt cinders. A drow woman in red-and-black armor stepped in the ashes, intimidating despite her short stature. Several male drow crowded behind her, as well as a couple of duergar, the gray-skinned dwarves native to the Underdark, all wearing the same armor. She sneered confidently at the inn's inhabitants, waving her hands and preparing another spell.
"Foul drow!" Durnan growled, drawing a sword from his belt and charging toward her, many of the heroes following suit. "You dare to attack my inn?!"
"Your inn, your city, your race!" the drowess cackled, unleashing the spell. "The rivven will fall before the Valsharess, fool!" Bolts of dazzling bright magic flew out of her palms; each bolt sought out and struck a non-drow occupant of the room, including Deekin, who futilely attempted to hide behind his notebook. Upon being struck, each was rendered immobile.
"I...I can't move!" grunted a man with red dreadlocks, straining against his unseen bonds.
"What foul magic is this?" cried an elven woman.
"Gods help us, they've come through the well!" Durnan groaned.
"Wow, and here I was thinking they came through the chamberpot," Nars said sarcastically. Durnan glared at Nars and started to say something, but at that moment the drowess cast another spell. A bolt of lightning sheared through the ceiling, forking into three prongs and striking three heroes dead on the spot--though none were heroes of Neverwinter. The drowess cast another spell, opening a pit of blackness in the floor. Fortunately, her paralysis spell wore off quickly, and the room's occupants were able to run before the dark vorpal pool sucked them in. The black pit collapsed on itself and vanished, but the drow spellcaster had a few more tricks up her sleeve. She cast two more spells, the first causing shards of ice to fly through the air and open severe wounds in her opponents. The second made fire pour in great spouts from above, charring many badly. Luckily, one of the Yawning Portal's occupants was a priestess, who healed the injuries as quickly as they were created.
"Now ye're gonna get it!" Tomi hollered, stabbing a drow in the leg. The drow stumbled at the pain, lowering himself enough that the halfling was able to reach up and slash his throat. Durnan sliced another drow in half with his sword, and the other heroes dealt their fair share of injuries. Deekin put his notebook away and mumbled a spell of his own, clubbing a duergar in the face with an impossibly large hailstone. The gray dwarf moaned and staggered backward, leaving himself unprepared for Nars's enusing attack.
"Easy as pie," Nars smirked, pulling his greatsword out of the duergar's skull. The drow arcanist lifted her hand and mumbled strange words, causing green froth to spin into being directly above Nars's unsuspecting head. A bitter stench alerted Deekin that the impending substance was acid. Deekin cast a spell of his own; a ray of frost cut directly over Nars's head, freezing the acid into a chunk of green ice. The acidic ice gave way to gravity and smacked into Nars's noggin, splintering into shards on contact. The shards dropped to the floor harmlessly, but Nars looked up in indignant confusion at the hit from above. Cursing the drow, Nars swung his sword and ran one through, boasting of his own might as he did so. Deekin sighed and cast a "buffer" spell to empower the fighters, then another to heal an elven woman's wounded eye. The battle was grueling, but the Yawning Portal's guests won out in the end, and the remaining drow and duergar fled back to the well room.
"Follow me," Durnan beckoned, racing to the well room door and yanking it open. "We must secure the well!"
"To the well room, quick," a red-headed woman urged, bolting after him. Those who hadn't been too badly injured followed after, Nars among them, whilst the more wounded stayed where they were. A fair-haired priestess in a blue dress tended to their wounds, and revived those who had previously appeared dead. Deekin did his best to help, but most were less than fond of being cured by a kobold. Still, Deekin did his best, and once everyone was in fairly stable condition he headed back down to the well room to lend his aid where it was needed there.
Past the well room door was a flight of stairs running along the wall, which led down into the well room itself. A wire mesh screen lined the stair's open side; Deekin started down the steps, but paused halfway down. Kneeling down, he pressed his snout against the mesh screen and looked. This gave him a perfect view of the well room, and the battle taking place in it. Three guards lie slain on the ground, spattered with their own blood. The drow and the heroes stood over their corpses as they fought. Deekin curled his fingers in the wire mesh links, entranced by the battle, which was nearly over. It was something like watching a novel play out before him; his side was winning, and his help was likely unneeded. Beyond the feud, Deekin could see the well itself, a plain cobblestone affair, though abnormally large. Beyond the well itself, the stone floor dropped off steeply into a huge crevasse.
"That not look safe," Deekin said to himself, taking out his notebook and scribbling a quick detail.
The last drow fell on his side, uttering a final cry and vomiting up blood before closing his eyes for the last time. Nars spat on the body and smirked, brandishing his sword victoriously. Durnan grimaced at Nars, then turned his attention to a lever jutting out of the floor. With a grunt, he pulled it back; in response, a system of jagged metal triangles rose out of the floor and closed around the well in a half-sphere, sealing it. Putting a hand on his back, Durnan stood up with a groan, wincing at the pain inflicted by injuries old and new, then looked at the heroes who stood before him.
"It was a close thing, but I think we managed to drive them back," Durnan noted. "I need all of you to stay here and guard the well room until the..." Durnan froze, sensing something was amiss. A second later, up from the depths of the crevasse rose a creature of nightmares--Deekin's nightmare, to be precise. The beholder suspended itself by unknown means, swiveling its vestigial stalk-eyes as the central eye radiated a potent energy.
"What the hell--" Nars cried, backing up. A shot of energy emanated from the beholder's main eye, blasting Nars square in the chest. Nars's eyes lolled up in his head, and he collapsed. A second bolt of energy zapped Durnan in the shoulder, causing the old man to fall as well.
"Noooooo!" Tomi moaned fearfully--fearful for his payment, that is. Deekin grabbed a crossbow out of his pack and skidded down the stairs hurriedly, fixing a bolt in the crossbow and raising it to attack the aberration. Before he could fire a shot, the beholder ducked back down into the wide crevice--undoubtedly, to where the well ended up at. Undermountain.
"Follow that abomination, quickly!" the red-headed woman commanded, yanking down the lever to lower the seal and leaping into the well. She didn't fall, which indicated that there was a platform of some sort within. The rest of the heroes jumped in with her, just barely fitting. Someone pulled a crank, and the platform descended into the well's black depths.
"No, you idiots!" Durnan cursed through clenched teeth. He summoned his strength and got to his feet with a grunt, breathing heavily. The beholder's attack had taken a toll on him. Nars regained his bearings soon after, shaking his head of any ill effects and getting up with the greatest of ease. Noticing Durnan's expression--a clear mix of frustration and rage--as well as the absence of everyone else, Nars piped up, "What's up, Gramps?"
"Blast those fools!" Durnan yelled angrily, paying Nars no mind. "What were they thinking? Rushing headlong into the well like a bunch of impatient children! Don't they realize how dangerous Undermountain is?"
"Perhaps you're more out of practice at this than you thought," Nars suggested with a careless shrug. Durnan glared at him with disgust.
He glares at you with disgust. "Why, thank you, Nars. That's exactly what I needed to hear, how I'm responsible for all this."
"No problem, Gramps," Nars grinned, fully aware that it was sarcasm. "What now, then?"
"I don't want you rushing off in a blind rage like those others, Nars," Durnan sighed, sitting down on the cold rock floor, though too tense for comfort. "You have to be smart about this. You'll need to be properly prepared before you go into Undermountain." He looked up to Nars distastefully. "You're the only one we can turn to now, Nars. You're--
"Waterdeep's last hope, last beaming ray of sunshine and flowers!" Nars cut in, clasping his hands together overdramatically, then dropping them and rolling his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I've heard it all before. Look, I said earlier I was off to the armory for new equipment, and a bunch of drow haven't changed my plans, thank-you." Noticing Durnan's deep frown, Nars rolled his eyes once more and added, "Don't sweat it, Gramps. I'll do my best."
Durnan shook his head. "To rely on you so heavily for Waterdeep's future..." he shrugged, sighing. "But I have no choice. I can only hope for the best and wish you well."
"Thanks for the encouragement," Nars responded wryly, scratching his itchy suit of well-worn armor and heading toward the stairs leading up. Planting his foot on the first step, he couldn't help but notice Deekin standing directly in front of him.
"Oh, uh...hello, great hero Nars Sater," Deekin grinned nervously. Nars quirked an eyebrow.
"Am I supposed to know you?" he asked.
"Oh, no, you not knows little Deekin...unless you reads Deekin's book, of course," Deekin remarked hopefully. "It be called 'Shadows of Undrentide'. Did you reads it? Did you likes it?"
"No, I'm pretty sure I'd remember reading a story about a talking lizard," Nars answered, pushing Deekin aside and striding up the stairs past him, ordering too late, "Out of my way."
"But it not be abouts Deekin," Deekin frowned after him. "It be abouts Deekin's boss, Umbra Lumina." It hurt his heart just to say her name, but it stopped Nars in his tracks. Nars turned around and crouched down on the steps, facing Deekin directly.
"Umbra Lumina, you say?" he said curiously. "I think I've heard of her. You traveled with her?"
"Oh, yes!" Deekin beamed eagerly, reminiscing. "Deekin goes on many adventures with great Boss! He writes epic tale of Boss's brave adventures, fighting ferocious manticores, and stinky scorpion-things, and nasty shadow-people and mean snake-lady and--"
"Don't push your luck," Nars interrupted, but rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well, you have to be sort of useful if you traveled with a legend...you know, kobold, I might even let you travel with me. I, Nars Sater, barbarian extraordinaire." He jabbed a thumb at his chest proudly.
"Really?" Deekin said dryly, then realized this meant a somewhat safe trip into Undermountain and instantly perked up. "Really?!"
"Depends," Nars said. "Can you carry stuff?"
"Bad back," Deekin informed. "But Deekin great for morale!"
"I don't need morale," Nars said pointedly. "I need a lackey. If you're useless, I'm not taking you with me."
"But Deekin not useless!" Deekin insisted. "Deekin know lots abouts Undermountain. Deekin is bard, after all, and Undermountain be great legend."
"You know things about Undermountain?" Nars asked skeptically.
"Deekin not only knows things about Undermountain, Deekin know plenty of things about drow and Underdark, too," Deekin added hastily. "Old Master Tymofarrar used to speak about it all the time. Deekin knows, for instance, that Undermountain was made by human named Halaster waaaay back before city was here. Was just little dungeon back then, maybe, but humans get so carried away." Nars looked interested, so Deekin continued. "Deekin know lots about Undermountain inside, too... before Deekin come to city, Deekin collect tales of adventurers who go inside and come out."
"Well...I guess it would be pretty convenient if I knew my way around," Nars nodded. "Okay, you're in."
Deekin clapped his hands together excitedly, anticipating a journey into famed Undermountain. "Yay! We make great team, you and Deekin, just you waits and sees!"
"Whatever." Nars climbed up onto the landing and opened the door, trodding up the steps out of the low alcove into the Yawning Portal's main room. Some people still moaned and held their injured spots, but most had been healed well enough and sat back, swigging drinks and chewing foods. All were pensive, some defeated and shameful, others thinking brightly of the future, when they would be strong enough to face such threats as the drow head-on. Ever the diligent author, Deekin observed this and composed mental notes to be written later. Ever selfish, Nars strode proudly past them and out the door into the streets of Waterdeep. Ever the faithful henchman, Deekin followed him, albeit at somewhat a distance.
There was an armory just down the street. Deekin carefully avoided what appeared to be old blood puddled on the cobblestones as he walked after Nars. The street curved off to the right; they took the bend, and just a few houses down was the armory. Nars pushed the door open and let it swing shut behind him carelessly, nearly slamming his small, scaly companion in it (Deekin promised himself he would write something nasty about Nars later). Inside the armory were two short women, one a halfing and one a dwarf. The dwarven woman hammered away tirelessly at the red-hot, malleable sword blade laid out on her anvil, sweat beading on her knitted brow from both heat and exertion. A dark frown covered the halfling woman's face as she surveyed her displays of weapons and armor. As Nars approached her, she cocked her head to the side and arched an imperious eyebrow.
"If you come to this shop to loot it, you should know that there are protections to guard against such things," she warned him, gesturing to a heavily armored guard hanging around the side of the room. Had the guard not moved an arm, they would have been indistinguishable from the many suits of armor on display.
"No protections could stop me if I wanted to rob you, wench," Nars retorted. The halfling paused and examined his bearing.
"Great pardon. Now that Argali looks upon you, she sees that you have more of the look of an adventurer than a common looter." Her face warped into a cheesy grin. "How can Argali Silth be of assistance today?"
"Wait a minute," Nars broke in. "Are you talking about yourself in the third person?"
"Deekin notices that too," Deekin agreed. "Why you talk like that? Deekin thinks it sounds funny."
"Argali speaks as she does," Argali replied coolly. "And who are you to judge her words, 'Deekin'?"
"Deekin be kobold," Deekin answered defensively. "Deekin gots reason to talks like he does."
"Shut up, both of you!" Nars snapped. "I came here to buy armor, not to listen to two midgets mock each other's speech impedements." Argali and Deekin both stiffened at the "midget" remark.
"You may count yourself fortunate indeed that you have been graced by Argali's presence and that you shall be blessed with her goods, should you have the coin," Argali said curtly, crossing her arms.
"Okay, have it your way...Argali." Nars rolled his eyes. "So, do I get my armor or not?"
"Argali Silth is a great merchant," Argali assured him. "She has generously agreed to keep her shop open and make her arms and armor available for purchase despite all dangers--"
"Whatever. I'm kind of running a deadline here, so can we hurry this up?" Nars urged.
"Of course," Argali nodded, leading him over to a glossy suit of silver-colored metal armor. "Over here we have a fine example of the--"
"I'll buy it," Nars decided, yanking a small cloth bag out of his belt and upending it on the floor, spilling gold coins. Argali grabbed them up greedily, meticulously inspecting them and counting them out, depositing them in a cloth bag of her own as she went.
"Yes...that'll be enough," she finally nodded. "Argali hopes your armor serves you well." Nars had already disassembled the suit of armor and was examining the pieces critically.
"I'm sure it will," Nars answered, "once I put it on." He cleared his throat impatiently. Argali rolled her eyes.
"There is a changing room in the back," Argali informed. "The door doesn't have a lock, but don't worry. Argali thinks she speaks for everyone when she says no one would care to peep." Nars made an unsavory comment about Argali's mother as he wandered into the back of the store. The slamming of a door was loudly audible. A few seconds later, the door was slammed a second time as Nars returned to claim his armor. It took several trips to bring all the pieces into the back room. Once this was accomplished, Nars slammed the door yet again. The noisy clanking of metal and a great deal of cursing could be heard from the back room as Nars clambered into his new suit of armor. Argali rolled her eyes again and, plopped the bag of coins on a squat desk, seated herself at a miniature chair and began recounting her profits.
"DAMN!" Nars shouted, his voice muffled by the wall but still clear. A loud thump that could only be the sound of him losing his balance and falling followed soon after.
"...90...100...110...Is he always like this?...150...160..." Argali asked without breaking her concentration. Realizing she was addressing him, Deekin shrugged.
"Deekin just meets him," Deekin explained. "Deekin not be uppity barbarian's henchman for very long."
"...230...240...250...260...With luck, you won't be...290...300...310..." Argali said frankly, eyes still turned down at the coins as her small fingers deftly sorted them by tens. "...320...330...340...How much is he paying you?"
"Deekin not be getting paid," Deekin replied.
"That is unfortunate," Argali sympathized, counting silently now as she neared the end of her task. "Argali knows you couldn't pay her enough to work for that ass-of-a-minotaur." Deekin chuckled despite himself.
"He takes Deekin into Undermountain," Deekin said. "Deekin puts up with anything for that. Deekin sorry barbarian man be rude to you, though." He hesitated. "Deekin sorry he be rude to you, too. People not be nice to Deekin."
"You're polite by kobold standards," Argali shrugged, then grinned impishly, dropping a fistful of coins in her palm and letting the tokens spill through her fingers onto the desk. Lowering her voice, she added secretively, "The minotaur's ass gave Argali 156 extra gold pieces for that armor. The joke is on him, and it's not coming out of your pay." Deekin grinned as well, just as Nars came out of the back room, trucking the old suit of leather armor in his arms and looking more miserable than before, his dark mood contrasting with his bright new armor.
"This armor is too tight," Nars complained. "Can't I have a different suit?"
"Sorry, no refunds," Argali smiled amiably. "But, if you would care to spend more coin on another suit of armor, Argali would happy to oblige...though she hardly knows your size, and it might take a few purchases before you find a suit your are comfortable wi--"
"Forget it," Nars grimaced. "I'll keep the one I have."
"Enjoy your merchandise!" Argali beamed.
"Don't suppose you could buy the old one?" Nars wondered, proffering the itchy leather armor of Durnan's.
"Argali will give you one copper for it," she told him, barely glancing at the offered armor.
"Then I'll just take my business elsewhere," Nars sniffed indignantly. To Deekin's surprise, he opened the kobold's pack and crammed the armor inside without regard for any personal belongings that might have been crushed in the process. Deekin's knees buckled under the weight.
"Wh-why you does that?" Deekin cried dismayfully, his eyes wide. "We agrees, you hires Deekin to guides you through Undermountain!"
"That, and carry my stuff," Nars smirked, heading toward the door and snapping his fingers. "Giddy-up, pack mule. We have dark elves to slay and mad wizards to smack around until they see things my way." He slipped out the door and into the streets. Straining under the weight of his pack, Deekin begrudgingly trailed after.
Durnan was waiting for Nars in the well room when they returned. Nars was the first to descend the stairs. Deekin lagged behind, busy writing miscellaneous details. When he finished writing, he looked to see Nars flirting with the fair-haired priestess in a blue dress. Deekin sighed, sat down on the bottom step of the stairs and plucked idly at his lute, savoring the break from heaving Nars's old armor.
"Hey! Why are you just sitting around?" Nars snapped at Deekin, striding over. "We have a city to save!"
"But...but you...but Deekin just..." Deekin sighed and got to his feet with great difficulty. "Neverminds."
"Damn straight." Nars led the way to the well, yanking the lever back with a show of masculinity and a wink in the priestess's direction. Deekin rolled his eyes just as the metal sphere over the well separated into several triangles of metal and withdrew into the floor again. Nars hopped into the well nonchalantly. Reluctantly, Deekin attempted to clamber in as well; Nars grabbed him by the straps of his backpack and hauled him in without grace. A circular wooden platform was the only thing between them and a many, many-mile plummet.
"Remember, just yank the rope when you want back up," Durnan reminded Nars.
"I remember, I remember!" Nars complained, turning the crank set in the well's side. The platform began to descend, picking up speed as it went. Down, down, down they went, for long enough that Deekin had time to compose a short poem--the hard part was pulling his writing supplies out from beneath the armor.
"How can you write in this darkness?" Nars grumbled after a while, squinting through the blackness that had overwhelmed them as they descended.
"Deekin be kobold," Deekin explained. "Kobolds is used to the dark." Deekin sniffed the air. "Kobolds is used to places that smells like slime and dead fish, too."
"Whatever," Nars shrugged. The platform continued to drop, and it must have been ten minutes of such before they finally came to a stop. A rope hung beside them, their only link to the surface. Noting this nervously, Deekin took a look around. They appeared to be in a small cave of sorts. A short distance away, however, was something no cave naturally formed. An arched double door stood against the gray cave wall, flanked by tall and decorative but otherwise useless pillars. Further ornamenting the place was a fresh human corpse stabbed on a pike, and a pile of old human bones, as well as several spots of roaring flame with no obvious fuel.
"Halaster be trying too hard to impress here, Deekin thinks," Deekin mused. Of course, Nars paid Halaster's overdone decorating no mind, walking briskly toward the double door.
"Where you be going?!" Deekin cried, panic-stricken. Nars stopped and turned around, looking at Deekin with a bemused expression.
"I was going to Rashaman to run naked in the fields," Nars said sarcastically. Deekin stared at him for a long moment, and then blinked several times.
"Deekin hears of Rashaman. Is that what peoples do there?" he queried.
"That and eat kobold stew as a delicacy," Nars affirmed.
"Oh." Disconcerted, Deekin took out his tome and made several notes in it, eyes wide. As he busied himself doing this, Nars swept away toward the door to Undermountain once more.
"Waits!" Deekin yelped, rushing toward him and nearly stumbling under the pack's weight. "You can't just walztes into Undermountain!"
"Why the hell not?" Nars scoffed, grabbing the door handle. Instantly, the human bones on the floor pulled together into a fully formed skeleton. A sword in its bony hand, the skeleton lunged at Nars.
"Because Undermountain full of traps," Deekin groaned, too late. Nars easily felled the skeleton.
"No sweat," Nars remarked, pulling the double doors open and waltzing into Undermountain. Deekin sighed and followed.
"Whatever you says..."
Undermountain's entrance was small and unimpressive, but an offshooting hallway led off from this first room and promised more exciting things. To Deekin's surprise, Nars was observant enough to notice another pile of human bones on the floor before him. Drawing his greatsword, he smirked cockily.
"Won't catch me with the same trick." So saying, Nars prepared to bring his sword down full-force on the bone hash. Abruptly, the red-haired woman from the Yawning Portal burst out of the bone pile.
"Wait, wait!" she pleaded. "Lower your weapon! It's me, Sharwyn! From the inn! Remember?" Deekin's eyes widened; he recognized the name. "Sharwyn" had written the book about the Wailing Death and Neverwinter's other plights.
"Oh." Nars said simply, and replaced his sword in its sheath. "What're you doing hiding in a pile of bones?"
"There was a fight when we chased that beholder down here," Sharwyn responded. "We were chasing after the beholder and had almost caught up to it, when suddenly it veered about and arrows started firing upon us from the shadows. I was hit, and whatever the arrow was coated with was making me very dizzy, so I hid and passed out." Sharwyn rubbed her forehead tentatively. "When I awoke, I stayed where I was, in case whatever shot at us was still around. Then you came--"
"How very sad," Nars cut in, his voice dosed with false sympathy. "Though I guess everyone can't be as powerful as I am. But don't worry, buttercup...if you come with me, I'll protect you. So, what do you say?" His grin was suggestive. Sharwyn responded with a strangely sweet smile.
"Hold that thought," she instructed, holding up a delicate finger. So saying, she pulled a heavy mace out of her belt and held it high. "Now hold very still."
"Point taken," Nars sighed, ducking past her. "Any ill will can be taken out on my kobold."
"Can it, now?" Sharwyn said, quirking an eyebrow and looking down at said kobold.
"Heh heh...nice lady not really hits Deekin, right?" Deekin asked hopefully. Sharwyn looked thoughtful.
"Well, I don't--" She broke off and smacked Nars on the back of his head with the mace.
"OWWWW!!! WHAT THE HELL--" Nars yelled, grabbing his head painfully and spinning around. Sharwyn was already out the still-open double door, however.
"Bitch," Nars muttered bitterly, still clutching his head as he staggered forth. "C'mon, kobold."
"Whatever you says," Deekin consented, torn between smiling at Nars's pain and frowning at the weight of the armor, his depression growing at the thought that they were bound to pick up plenty of encumbering loot in Undermountain. And they both knew whose job it would be to lug it.
"Oh, Deekin's aching back..."
"Shut up and move."
(Things are looking pretty depressing, huh? Chin up, Deekin...things have to get worse before they get better. Hang in there, little guy, and Chapter Three will see you through.)