Disclaimer: I do not own 'Baldur's Gate', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.
– Blackcross & Taylor
Shipwrecked
Fritha laid still, a comforting heat on her back as the gentle sound of the waves returned her to consciousness. For a moment, it was almost as though she was back at Candlekeep, listening to the sea that crashed and swelled about the cliffs of her home. But memories of a shipwreck slowly began to filter back and the feelings were lost to her once more.
She groaned and immediately winced, her whole body on edge as sand crunched between her teeth. Lifting her head from the ground with some difficultly, she found herself on a pale sandy beach, grassy dunes stretching off to the north of her, while the mid-morning sun beat fiercely overhead. Imoen's body lay a little way off, the gentle rise and fall of her back allaying her immediate concerns, though the absence of the others was a worry.
What if they…?
She shook herself, pulling her mind away and easing herself up to untangle the knot of rigging that was still caught about her arms, her wrist burnt where she had entwined her hand. Slowly she sat up, freeing herself from her bag strap that had been twisted round her by the rushing waters, and finally pulling out her flask. She swilled out her mouth, spitting the gritty water onto the beach beside her and taking a long draft before passing it to Imoen, who had crawled a little way along the beach to sit next to her.
'You okay?' she asked, the girl just nodding, spilling water down her chin as she gulped thirstily. Fritha sighed, reaching up to re-pin her hair more securely, curls brittle beneath her fingers, before receiving the flask back from Imoen who had now turned her attention to her equipment.
'Looks like everything in my bag's still there, but the dagger's gone from my boot and I think I've lost the pendant you bought me,' she sighed, patting her chest trying to feel it under her tunic before a smile lit her features. 'Oh no,' she continued, struggling to adjust the cord without strangling herself, 'it just got pulled around. What about you?'
Fritha shrugged, hefting her bag onto her lap to root through it.
'Mine seems fine too, though my books will need drying out, but apart from that-'
'Your lute's gone!'
'What?' she cried, pulling the bag round to find the strapping that usually bound it there, empty and slack.
'Oh,' she said shortly, with a slight shrug, more disappointed than she thought she would have been at its loss, 'oh well.'
'Ho there!'
They both looked up to see further down the beach four familiar figures ambling toward them.
'Hey!' Imoen shouted back, standing to wave enthusiastically.
'It's good we are all here, I was worried,' continued Fritha absently, more to herself than the energetic girl stood next to her, taking another drink in an effort to quell the churning of saltwater in her stomach.
'How are you both?' called Jaheira as they neared, Imoen sitting back down as she answered.
'The better for seeing you lot.'
'Yes, w-we were worried too when we c-could not find you,' said Khalid, smiling slightly as he added,' though Boo was sure you had not come to h-harm.'
Minsc beamed.
'But we are all here now, and what is m-more…'Khalid continued with a smile, pulling aside his cloak to reveal a sandy and slightly scratched lute.
'You found it!' Fritha cried, kneeling up to receive it as the others sat down about them.
'Actually, it was J-Jaheira who saw it, still bobbing about in the water.'
'It was you who went and retrieved it,' countered the druid sharply, clearly wanting no credit for its return being landed on her.
'Well, either way, I expect to hear a t-tune on it when we g-get back to the mainland.'
Everyone laughed as she felt herself colour, though she promised him she'd think about it.
'Well,' continued Jaheira, once the laughter had died down, 'to those ends, we should set about exploring this island without delay. I wish to be much more familiar of our surroundings when night falls. Do you still have the sea charts, Fritha?'
She was about to reply when, a young girl suddenly crashed through the tall grass behind them. No one spoke as she surveyed them all with wide grey eyes, her mouth a perfect circle, before she seemed to remember herself and quickly curtseyed, blond plaits bobbing as she did so.
'Hello. I'm Solianna.'
Fritha smiled warmly, bowing slightly from where she sat.
'Nice to meet you, Solianna, they call me Fritha.'
Silence fell again as she watched them warily a moment longer, head cocked to one side as she sniffed the air.
'You smell funny. You swim in?'
Fritha shrugged, grinning wryly.
'Pretty much. Our ship sank.'
The girl giggled slightly, clearly no longer believing them a threat and sitting down on the crest of the dune.
'You're lucky,' she continued wisely, primly smoothing out her apron, 'not see many that swim in. Fishes are mean and cliffs hurt ship-homes. You still smell funny but maybe you stay and belong?'
'And b-belong? Belong to whom?'
'Why, to each other, silly,' she laughed brightly, 'there's mommay and poppay and my brother. We've got neighbours too. The village is very nice.'
Imoen glanced to her, eyebrows raised before turning back to the child to ask,
'How d'you come to be here?'
'Mommay says great-great-grandmommay came here on a ship-home like you. Something happened and they had to swim or be caught by the fishes. The ship-home is here somewhere, I guess. We're not allowed to go there.'
'Thou dost not seem alarmed to see us. How often do strangers come here?'
Solianna shrugged.
'Not very often and they don't always want to make friends. That's what mommay says. But I never seen any that doesn't belong, until I meet you anyway. You may smell funny but you not scary. Not like the beasties.'
'The beasties?' Fritha repeated quickly, 'what do you mean?
'The beasties are scary,' the girl breathed, her grip on her apron tightening as she leant forward. 'They sometimes look like us but they change and get mean. Mommay says they're nothing more than animals, but the other animals don't hate us so much. Maybe...maybe you will help us?'
Fritha nodded once, smiling slightly.
'If we can.'
Solianna smiled too, seemingly heartened by her answer, pointing behind her as she spoke.
'Yeah, you go to the village and speak to mommay's friend, Kaishas. She leads while master chieftain is away. I got to go now, but maybe we see each other later- or maybe I too busy playing,' she added with a cheeky grin, turning to run in the direction she had pointed. 'Bye!'
Imoen turned to her, a familiar smile already hitched into place.
'So we're going to the village then?'
Fritha grinned.
'Looks like.'
xxx
It turned out the village could be seen from the top of the dune, a sparse grouping of buildings, crop fields and a square situated to the east and a high wall bordering the entire northern boundary. Fritha followed her friends down from the dunes, the sand shifting under her feet, before the ground became more solid and Jaheira led the way eastwards to the square.
Fritha readjusted her bag, her arms still sore from her struggle the night before. The village seemed quiet, even taking into account the small number of buildings and those she did notice did not seem as pleased to see them as the girl had been, watching them pass with shaded eyes. They had reached the square by now, the packed earth sending up clouds of dust with each step. Jaheira stopped, glancing up at the three large buildings that bordered it, all raised to head height on wooden stilts, when a voice called out behind them.
'Hello to you that do not belong!'
Fritha turned to see a lean tan woman, her blonde hair cropped short, appear at the mouth of the northern most building. She watched them a moment before walking cautiously down the first few steps to stand, still a head higher than them as she continued.
'I greet ye and ask your purpose to be here. Please assure my worry you are not here to harm.'
Jaheira stepped forward.
'We were washed ashore when our ship foundered, we mean no ill.'
The woman smiled, relaxing slightly to lean on the banister.
'Then you are as we, for our beginning was as yours. I am Kaishas. I rule here while master chieftain, my mate, is away. Long have we been on this home but not always. The mothers of our great-grandmothers were from away, but travelled near and the depths swallowed their ship,' she explained, chuckling slightly to add, 'accursed cliffs below have sharper teeth than we.'
'You were shipwrecked?' came Imoen behind her, all enthusiasm, 'how long ago? We've come looking for an ancient wreck.'
'You have?' she confirmed, pale eyebrows raised, 'how you know of this place? We are undisturbed for age upon age but you know of our wreck?'
'It was seen by a passing merchant ship,' continued Jaheira, 'and bears the markings of Balduran, a hero that went missing some three hundred years ago. A scholar named Mendas hired us to find it.'
'Mendas?' The woman shook her head, suddenly sad, 'I do not know this name. I had hoped... One of our kin left the island some time ago, our chieftain, Selaad and I thought he might have sent you. I know not Balduran either. He was not among our founders; he never belonged.'
She shrugged slightly and breathed a sigh before continuing.
'As for the wreck, I have not seen for year upon year, but know where it is, I do. It is on the other side of the island, it is. In the place of the beasts.'
'Beasts?' Fritha heard herself say, a familiar unease rising within her. Kaishas' eyes darkened.
'They kill us on sight!' she snarled, slamming a hand on to the rail with an anger that shook the entire ladder. 'Wolf-like but not wolves. Man-like but not men. I-I sorry, but I do not know what you would call them.'
Fritha frowned. She knew exactly what she'd called them and by the worried looks passing between the others, they were thinking along the same lines. Werewolves.
'This village is refuge but the island is wild. They do not belong.'
The woman shook her head and added with finality, 'they are death to us and we to them.'
Kaishas sighed, leaning more heavily against the rail as she continued.
'The first of the mothers were concerned only with survival, but now we wish to go. We fought tooth and nail in past, but we want peace in life. We did start to build a ship-home. After all, if we can build the wall and village we can build the ship to leave. But we could not build on this side on island because of reef and cliffs below the sea. The other side is calm but beasts live there.'
She glanced up slowly as though truly noticing them for the first time, eyes travelling over the group and Fritha felt them linger overly long on the blade at her hip.
'Perhaps you can help,' she continued, suddenly eager, 'you will have a need to leave as well as we. If you kill the beasts you can get the ship-wreck and we can all together leave.'
'We will investigate the matter;' said Jaheira, briefly glancing over the rest of them for any signs of dissent, 'perhaps bloodshed can be avoided in the end.'
Kaishas shrugged loosely.
'They will not allow, but try, see for yourselves.'
Jaheira nodded, the man at her side speaking up.
'The wreck has l-left us in need of supplies. Have you anything we m-may be able to use?'
The woman smiled slightly, pointing east to the building just next to them.
'The reef has hurt many ship-homes and much has been washed ashore here over years. We use little, but collect all. Go and see if there is anything. If it has use to you then it is yours… a sign of the goal we share.'
They thanked her and she nodded, turning to re-enter her hut as she spoke.
'The wreck is north. Leave through the break in the wall, the guard will let you pass. Good hunting.'
Fritha followed her friends up the steps of the building next to them, the room so dark after the glare of outside, she found herself momentarily blind. She glanced about her, eyes adjusting to the gloom to find herself in one long open room filled with boxes and chests from which spilled everything from old sections of sail to broken weapons and rusting armour. The others were already rooting through the jumble, seeing what they could use, but Fritha had lost nothing in the shipwreck bar her mail and after watching them a moment turned to step back out into the glare.
Outside, the sun was high and hot, and she squinted in its gaze, descending the steps to take a few paces into the square and was absently watching the sea when something caught her sleeve. She turned to a woman of middle years, her worn tan face so distraught, Fritha could not help but take a step back.
'You! You are the strangers they speak of. Please, you must help me, I have no one else!'
'What's wrong?'
'My baby,' she sobbed, burying her face in her hands, dark hair falling forward to hide it, 'they have him! Oh, please!'
Fritha patted her arm awkwardly, glancing about for Khalid or Dynaheir, but they were still inside and she sighed inwardly.
'Please, calm down. What has happened?
'I sorry,' she finally breathed, lifting her head to fix her with dark teary eyes, 'It's been so hard, not knowing. Two moons ago my husband took my son out hunting with him. They were attacked by the beasts. They… they killed my husband and took my baby.'
The woman stopped, tears threatening to overwhelm her again, her breathing deepening as she tried to control herself.
'Ka- Kaishas says that they will have eaten him, but I know he still alive. But they won't go and look for him and stop me from leaving the village. Please,' she breathed, almost trembling, her terror clear in the face of Fritha's worried frown, 'please, you must help me.'
Fritha stared back, a horrible hollow feeling welling just under her ribs; the child was more than likely dead, but…
She took the woman's shoulder and firmly held her gaze.
'I will do all I can.'
The woman nodded, tears finally getting the better of her and before Fritha could say anything more, she had turned and fled down the path.
Fritha sighed, offering up a silent prayer to anyone that was listening for the child's safe return as the door behind her opened and the others filed into the square. She led the way northward past the chieftain's hut to stop in the gardens behind it, the plot a hive of activity as the villagers tended their crops. Amongst other things, Minsc and Khalid had found leather armour to fit, and the women were helping them dress, more than one villager glancing up curiously at the unfamiliar sight.
Fritha wandered away from them, following the wall with half an idea of taking a look through the break, when she noticed a tall young man with a sandy shock of hair ambling towards her from across the field. He waved as he approached suddenly stopping and dropping his hand when but a few paces away before seeming to remember himself and taking the last few steps to her, albeit more unsurely than before.
He stood in front of her a moment in silence and the first thing that struck her was how tall he seemed, not as tall a Minsc but somehow, something more. His face was broad and open, hazel eyes looking down at her with a shy curiosity and for some reason she wished with all her soul she hadn't been washed ashore a couple of hours before or, at least, she wished she didn't look like she had. He too seemed just as nervous, his voice wavering slightly as he extended a hand.
'Hello. You are of the strangers Solianna speaks of. I am Durlyle and I am pleasured to meet you.'
His hand was large and surprisingly warm, and she felt very aware of her calluses as they brushed against his palm.
'Nice to meet you too, I'm Fritha.'
'There is quite the talk of you around the village. None have seen your like before, not even some of the eldest,' he paused and looked at her a moment, all indecision and reserve, 'though perhaps you are used to this.'
So subtle it could have been imagined, it took a moment for the slight stress to sink in and Fritha found herself at a complete loss for words, looking up at him with mouth ajar. There was something quite intimate in his awkwardness, and she worried at once that he had noticed her staring and could perhaps read her thoughts on her face and hurriedly dropped her eyes.
'Quite…'
A loaded silence hung between them, and Fritha found herself unable to even look up at him, her mind groping blindly something to say, the girlish chattering of Imoen filling her ears as she felt herself colour.
…a good nervous, like, I don't know, thousands of butterflies are inside me…
But whatever was happening to her insides now, bore little resemblance to that; much less the fluttering of butterflies, and more the frenetic wet flipping of a landed fish.
'So…' she finally ventured, still taking a keen interest in her feet, 'what is it you do here?'
'What do I do? he repeated, seemingly surprised she was interested, 'well, I am history.'
She looked up sharply and their eyes met, a sudden rush of warmth engulfing her and the piscine writhings of her stomach dissolved. She smiled and they suddenly burst into shared laughter, their previous awkwardness forgotten.
'Forgive me,' he continued once their laughter had faded, 'I mean I am historian. I keep the stories of the great elders and of the few relics of old. I try to keep the old tongue as well but we have been our own for some time. What of you? What do you do?'
'Oh, not much really,' she shrugged, unwilling to share the truth of it with him, 'just travel, sometimes do work for people. We came here to find an old shipwreck, though things are more complicated than they first seemed.'
He nodded, glancing behind to the gap in the wall as he spoke.
'Yes, I heard you are to go out beyond the wall and face the beasts; a most dangerous task. I wonder if the wreck you seek is worth it.'
'Perhaps not, but Kaishas' boat and the child certainly are.'
'Child?' he repeated, turning back to her sharply, 'you mean Maralee's son? You would risk your life to save one who is not your kin, who does not belong to yours? Even when their own refuse them?'
'Of course,' she shrugged, smiling slightly as she added, 'though don't get me wrong, I go also to negotiate on Kaishas' ship.'
'But you would go if only the child.'
It wasn't a question, but a statement and said with pride too and a gravity in his eyes that made it feel more like a compliment. Her blush intensified and she felt a strong desire to play it down.
'Everyone has different skills in this world but we must use them for the benefit of all. If your people cannot retrieve the child, why shouldn't we? I will help anyone one, if I can. I only hope that when I need it, others will do the same for me.'
He smiled again, but this time more shyly and when he spoke his voice was hesitant.
'I too, have a task for you if you will hear me…'
She smiled, nodding once for him to continue.
'It is a simple task, complicated some. The storm you felt, that took your ship? It was fierce here too and a cloak that draped the village centre was cast to the wind. I have spent the morning searching for it, but I think it is beyond the wall and I cannot risk the beasts to get it. It is from old, old as we people. From the ship-home that crumbled beneath and symbolises the past we came from. You know the importance of symbols? Well, this is ours...'
'Fritha, are you ready?'
She turned to find the others had already passed her and were gathered at the break, Jaheira beckoning to her.
She glanced back to him, his warm eyes hopeful.
'If I find it, it's yours.'
He smiled, bowing slightly.
'My thanks, Fritha. I wish you well.'
'So, who was that, then?' muttered Imoen, once they were past the wall and travelling north through the forest beyond. Fritha kept her eyes down, focusing on the changing tones of her old leather bag, stained here and there in white where the seawater had dried.
'Hmm? Oh, Durlyle… he's the island's historian.'
'He seemed nice,' Imoen pressed, her grin getting wider by the second.
'Yes, I suppose…' she conceded, trying to concentrate on the worn leather as she felt her face colouring, her anger at herself only growing as a smile began pulling at the corners of her mouth.
'You're smiling…'
'So?
'And you've gone all defensive!' Imoen laughed triumphantly, clapping her hands together with obvious joy.
'No I haven't! Stop laughing!' she snapped back, pursing her lips against a grin as she stalwartly turned her attention back to the path ahead, just in time to prevent herself walking into a tree.
'Oh, come on, Fritha, tell me…' the girl pleaded, looking worried for the first time during their exchange that perhaps gossip would not be forthcoming. 'Just a sentence, just- just one word!'
'One word?'
Imoen nodded, her eyes shining and earnest like rose-cut peridot.
Fritha bit her bottom lip and smiled.
'Butterflies.'
They could have heard Imoen's shriek on the mainland.
xxx
Khalid smiled, keeping only half a mind on the path ahead of him as he listened to the earnest chatter of the girls behind him, or to one of them, at least. Though too far back for him to hear any details, it was clear from Imoen's fervent questions on hair and looks and the like, that Fritha had become acquainted with one of the local youths; a matter that quite clearly required much discussion, though Fritha did not seem to be looking at it like that.
'Imoen, I've told you everything I know a dozen times over, now stop being silly!'
He bit back a laugh as Fritha drew up beside him flushed and scowling in a look that was reminiscent of his wife when she was caught out. She glanced to him, seemingly conscious of her appearance for she shook herself and sent him a smile, her mouth opening to perhaps explain when another cut her off.
'Up ahead, there's a house.'
He glanced up, the trees thinning as they reached the others to find themselves in a clearing, a rundown hut in the centre.
'Do you suppose it's part of the village?' came Imoen behind him.
'It s-seems a little past the boundary, don't you think?'
'I doubt werewolves would bother to build a house,' said Fritha, turning to him with a nonchalant shrug, 'only one way to be sure though.'
And before anyone else could comment, she walked smartly up to the door and knocked.
Silence. She slowly turned back to them all with raised eyebrows.
'Try the door,' called Imoen and they watched as the handle twisted easily under Fritha's hand.
'It's open.'
'Maybe no one lives there anymore…'
'There is no smoke from the chimney,' agreed Jaheira, taking a cursory glance to the roof before moving forward to join her and Khalid stepped up as well, following Fritha into the darkness.
But it was clear as soon as he crossed the threshold that however neglected the building seemed, it was most definitely habited.
The place was filled with salvage. A sailcloth curtain heavy with dust hung along their left, dividing the room in two and cutting off any light from the building's only window, but even through the gloom he could see the walls covered with everything from frayed lengths of rope and bundles of herbs, to a worn figurehead in the form of a mermaid. Barrels and chests packed every available space, serving as both tables and storage, a clear path through the chaos leading to a rickety chair which stood, pride of place, before the unlit hearth.
Fritha picked her way before him, drawn to the mermaid that watched them with serene chipped eyes, when suddenly the curtain was thrown back, a shape appearing and Khalid glanced up to see the curved gleam of a sickle swipe down at the girl as a voice screamed, 'back, back I say!'
Everyone leapt backwards immediately, hisses from behind him indicating some had been more prompt than others. The man however did not press forward, still half hidden behind the curtain, tensed and wary. He took another swipe at Fritha but she made no move to her sword, perhaps believing it would only aggravate things, and Khalid felt himself step up behind her, his own weapon half drawn and ready in case the situation escalated.
'Calm down,' she soothed, a hand aloft, 'we're sorry. I tried to knock and the door was open…'
The figure finally stepped forward, the shadows falling back to reveal a worn looking elf, his deep green eyes staring back at them with something akin to awe.
'Can it be?' he breathed, taking another step toward her and Khalid sensed her tense slightly at the frantic look in his eyes, 'after all this time? By Selune's blade, I am saved!'
'Saved?' repeated Fritha, 'from what?'
'From what?' he snapped, brandishing the sickle at her again in his anger, Khalid's grip on his hilt tightening though the girl did not flinch. 'From where! From this accursed island!'
Fritha just stared back, her voice even.
'You're not one of the villagers?'
He opened his mouth to reply when he suddenly stopped, her artlessness seeming to finally calm him, tucking the sickle back into his belt to bow.
'Forgive me, child. I- I have not had guests for several centuries. I am Dradeel,' he continued stepping back slightly to include all of them in the introduction, 'mage and recent convert to the church of Selune. I was the guide for Balduran's brave adventures to Anchorome and beyond.'
He sighed, crossing to sink into the chair with a shake of his head.
'But that was long ago and I have lived here for countless years, alone except for the occasional skirmishes with the diseased ones. I have little taste for battle but they are abominations not fit for this world.'
'Disease? You mean the lycanthropy?' questioned his wife behind him and the mage nodded tiredly as Fritha continued.
'We understand their lair is Balduran's wreck. We're here to talk with them.'
'Talk!' he snorted, angry once more, 'the only communication you'll get will be in violence!'
But Fritha just shrugged her acceptance of this risk and Dradeel's eyes burned bright.
'By the Gods, if you're willing to fight these terrors then you must assist me! My spell book was within that wreck and with it returned I may be able to discover a way off the island.'
'Where would it be?'
'In a chest in my cabin,' he stuttered as he leapt up, scrabbling eagerly among the papers on a nearby box to retrieve a tattered plan of the ship. 'See there? The one next to Balduran's, just below the deck. The wreck lies to the northeast of here, another half an hours walk away.'
She glanced round to them all with a shrug before turning back to him.
'Okay, we'll see what can be done.'
'Oh, my most heartfelt thanks, friends,' he cried, tossing the paper aside to heartily shake her hand. 'You go to the wreck this day? Please you must take tea with me before you set off, it has been so long since I had company.'
It was agreed, the old mage disappearing through the curtain while the rest of them found seats in the chaos, Khalid settling on a chest under a boarded-up window, the two girls finding space together opposite, on an rusty tin bath they'd turned upside down.
'Here we are,' sang Dradeel appearing with a large cracked teapot in hand, a row of seven cups dancing after him as he bustled back through the curtains. 'Nice hot tea- I picked the nettles fresh this morning,' he added brightly, causing Imoen to choke half way through her first mouthful, the girl at her side frowning as she stared into her cup.
Khalid glanced down at his own drink, the dark green liquid shimmering, before taking a tentative sip and being pleasantly relieved. The bitter woody flavour reminded him somewhat of the pinecone tea Jaheira used to make when their travels took them far from civilisation. He glanced to his wife who had obviously recalled it too, sending him a smile over the rim of her cup before turning her attention back to the mage.
'Shame I could not have let you try my nightshade blend,' Dradeel continued with a genial sigh, settling back into his own chair to set the pot down on the floor beside him. 'Quiet delicious; the only drawback being it's nearly always fatal.'
Imoen snorted into her cup again, but whether from shock or amusement Khalid could not tell. Dradeel glanced up at the noise though, and Fritha took the moment to ask in clear polite tones about the mage's past voyages, the tales of his journeys lasting them until the pot was dry.
The last farewells said, they filed out, Dradeel's mix of thanks and instruction still following them as they continued north. The mage's generosity had extended to provisions as well, though they found them a little less useful than the ones the village had supplied, an interesting mix of potions and scrolls that easily occupied the youngest of them.
'So what did you get?' asked Imoen, as she searched through the bottles that now filled her pack, the vials chiming as they walked.
Fritha shrugged, throwing open her own bag to root gently through the top.
'A treaties on the cultivation of legumes, a broken dagger and,' she sighed, opening a small parchment packet and sniffing the contents tentatively before folding the paper back along the creases, 'unless I'm very much mistaken, some of his famous nightshade blend.'
Imoen snorted.
'Mmm, yum. Save that for when we next see Whalen,' she grinned but Fritha found she could not join her, her friend's laughter trailing off as they both looked up to see the remains of Balduran's final voyage filtering through the trees.
The air seemed unnaturally quiet as they approached, not even the trill of birdsong to break the stillness; only the distant roar of the waves in the cove below. Fritha gazed up at the hulk of dark wood jutting out from the landscape, the remnants of sails that still clung to the shattered mast rippling in the listless air. There were patches where the hull had been torn away, either from the shipwreck itself or where the wreckage had been later dragged ashore, and the ship's framework was visible underneath like the ribs of some slowly rotting beast. Fritha moved closer, walking round to study the intricately carved stern, a weave of merpeople, leviathans and other sea creatures, the gold leaf peeling from their entwined forms shimmering softly in the light reflected across them from the cracked mullioned windows of the captain's cabin.
She followed the others, Imoen at her side, clambering through one of the lower breaches into the darkened hull, the sweet mouldering smell of decay hanging in the air and what she could only hope was wood crunching unpleasantly underfoot. Behind her, familiar chink of Imoen's bag provided a pleasant distraction as Fritha gazed about waiting for her eyes to adjust to the gloom.
'What do you think then, this one?'
'One what?' she mumbled absently, examining some roughly carved shapes along the closest bulkhead before something clicked.
'Oh, you are not serious!' she hissed, alarmed as she actually took a moment to glance back and found Imoen with a cork in one hand, sniffing at the open neck of one of her newly acquired bottles. 'Imoen, I'm not sure taking anything he gave us would be such a good idea.'
But the girl just grinned.
'Just because you're scared.'
'I am not scared,' she frowned, very aware of how like Jaheira she sounded as she continued, 'I just don't think it would be very sensible.'
But Imoen merely snorted, rolling her eyes before quickly upending the vial and swallowing the lot with a grimace.
'How is it?'
'Ugh, bitter as anything- oh-'
'What?' she prompted in urgent whisper.
'Oh, Fritha,' Imoen breathed, a smile slowly spreading across her face, 'this- this is amazing! Feel my heart!' she snapped, snatching her hand and pulling it to her chest, 'it's doing nineteen to the dozen! It- it's like time's slowed or something. Here, you have some!' she continued suddenly, grabbing another bottle from her bag with little care, it seemed, as to what it actually was and thrusting it out at her earnestly.
Fritha frowned, taking a step back.
'I don't need a madman's snakeoil to make me quick.'
'Fritha-!'
But she never found out was her friend's argument would have been, for at that moment the hatch at the end of the hold dropped open, a broad stocky man with the same olive skin of the villagers appearing on the steps. His gaze travelled over them slowly, amber eyes narrowed as he carefully scented the air and Fritha noticed another leaner man behind him, awaiting his order.
'You not villagers…' he finally rumbled, 'what you want?'
They were escorted quickly along the labyrinth of cabins and ladders by the two, noticed but unquestioned by the few people they passed along the way, to be finally led into a long open cabin that Fritha recognised as the upper deck, their escort dropping back as the door before them opened. They waited, silent almost huddled, very aware of the two behind them as from the captain's cabin stepped a man followed closely by a woman, both past middle years, the male, tall tanned with greying brushed back hair, his lady, sloe-eyed and, a rarity among the islanders, fair skinned.
'Strangers?' the man confirmed, finally breaking the silence, his thick bushy brow brought low as he surveyed the group. 'What business have you here?'
His teeth seemed overlarge, almost as though he had to many for his mouth, giving his voice a slightly rasping sound, and Fritha could feel Imoen twitching behind her, the girl having to pry her sleeve from her friend's grasp as she stepped forward to bow, lending a formal air to the meeting.
'We have come on behalf of the village.'
'Ah,' he chuckled, a unnervingly guttural sound, 'you have been speaking with that bitch, Kaishas, haven't you? I suppose she says we evil and must be destroyed. Lies!' he barked suddenly, slamming a hand against a bulkhead with a ferocity that made them all jump, 'they kill us on sight, we want only peace!'
'Indeed?' Fritha raised an eyebrow, coolly unruffled though her heart was beating madly. 'The villagers tell a different story. One in particular says you killed her husband and stole her child…'
'Karoug-!' snapped the woman at his side.
The leader raised a silencing hand, not even sparing her a glance, but it was easy to hear the sharp tone of panic in her voice. His eyes were cool though as he continued.
'That none of your concern.'
Fritha moved a hand expressively to her hilt
'Well, I am making it my concern.'
His eyes flashed, lips twisting to furious snarl.
'You dare challenge me! The last thing you do!'
Fritha stood a moment, transfixed as the two in front of her twisted and writhed, thick hair beginning to cover their faces, before two arms seized her from behind, Khalid pulling her into the furthest corner and swinging down the huge tower shield from his back, as Jaheira kicked the bolt across the hatch they entered through, cutting off the lower decks. The others were already there, Minsc in front of the two women his sword drawn and held across him in a low guard, and they took up positions either side of him, forming a line just in time to meet the four werewolves, unrecognisable and looking strange still in their torn clothes.
They stood tightly side-by-side, weapons held outwards as the creatures prowled just out of reach, lunging forward now and then to snap and claw at some exposed flank, the group shifting as one to defend against them. Fritha started as something whistled past her, throwing a half glance back to see Imoen balanced on a chest, her movements barely more than a blur as she leased arrow after arrow into the creatures. But they did little bar keep the beasts from pressing forward too heavily, the arrows glancing off the thickly furred hides; Imoen growing increasingly panicked by the sight.
'By Silvanus, watch where you are aiming!' snapped Jaheira, as one of her more careless shots landed quivering on the inside of Khalid's shield.
'It's not my fault,' she cried, letting fly another that Fritha found a little close for comfort, 'he moved!'
A sudden crack from behind made Fritha jump, everyone startled as lighting tore through the ship from the Wychlaran, killing one beast stone dead before hitting a bulkhead to run to earth. The second of distraction was all Karoug needed though, a huge paw knocking aside Fritha's sword and suddenly she was staring into a mouth of cracked yellow teeth.
It all happened without a thought; bringing her free hand up to instinctively strike out at him for all the good it would have done, when her fingers seemed to tingle and a white hot light flared in his face. The beast jumped back, blinded and Minsc stepped forward, breaking the line to bring up his blade and run him through, just as another beast leapt on him, teeth sinking easily through the leather and into his arm. Minsc roared, the hilt slipping from his hand and the sword fell with Karoug, Khalid killing the creature on his arm as Imoen felled the last with a shot through the eye.
Dynaheir was already upon Minsc, helping him remove the bracer as Jaheira moved in to take a look, Khalid stooping to retrieve the man's sword. Fritha glanced back to Imoen, who had leapt off the chest by now and was examining the dead werewolf with keen interest, though she straightened as she noticed Fritha watching and bounded over with a grin.
'Did you see that shot? Right through the eye! Gods, I'm good,' she boasted happily and Fritha smiled, her comment of "more luck that judgement" remaining unspoken.
'And what was that flash?' she continued, snatching up her hand as though looking for signs of blackpowder.
'I… I don't know. It just happened, like a reaction.'
Dynaheir glanced up, her eyes moving slowly over the pair.
'Thou hast never cast ere this day?'
Fritha shook her head.
'I was taught some spells back in Candlekeep. Just small stuff like mage fire and a finding cantrip, but I was never very good at anything more complex. I can never remember the words or the order without it written down in front of me.'
Dynaheir took her hand as Imoen had, examining it before a slight smile graced her features.
'Well, recalled or not, thou just cast magic, child. Dost thou see the blue about thine fingers, do not stare,' she chided, smiling as Fritha glared at her fingertips, 'thou must try to look without seeing.'
And sudden it was there; a faint aura of blue dust that swirled about them as she moved.
'It is the trace all magic leaves.'
'But I didn't cast anything,' Fritha cried, 'I don't even know that spell.'
'Ah well, some are born with a mind for magic,' here she smiled gently at Imoen, 'and some with a soul for it. The magic is within thee, child.'
Minsc groaned behind her and she glanced back, clearly feeling she was neglecting her protector.
'We may speak more of this later.'
Fritha nodded once, feeling slightly unsettled and was glad to leave Imoen unlocking a chest, walking through to the captain's room alone. A large desk dominated the small cabin and it wasn't until she'd moved round it to get to the draws that she noticed an upturned crate filled with scraps of cloths where, nestled and sleeping, was a young child.
Her heart swelled. To find him alive so completely unexpected that for a moment all she could do was watch his sleeping form, before the reality of it sank in.
'Er, Jaheira-' she called, nervously taking a step backwards as though even a close proximity to the child was likely to cause trouble.
'What is it?' came the druid's impatient reply, 'I'm still with Minsc.'
'Well, I've found that woman's baby.'
Imoen instantly appeared in the doorway, her eyes bright, and though Fritha was worried to admit it, slightly crazed.
'A baby!'
Fritha hesitated a moment before pointing to the crate and Imoen rushed over, obviously delighted.
'Er, Imoen… perhaps you'd best not…'
Fritha trailed off. Imoen was paying her no mind though, lifting the child out carefully, cooing and murmuring in a high-pitched sort of way. He slowly opened his eyes with a yawn, giving a slight whimper, and then another… and another, before suddenly opening his mouth and bawling at the top of his lungs.
Imoen certainly looked a lot less enchanted with him then, holding him out at arms length her face screwed up against the noise.
'By Silvanus!' came a roar from the adjoining room and Fritha backed against the wall in anticipation of the next player.
On cue, Jaheira stalked into the room looking highly unimpressed, taking the baby from Imoen and holding it to her, trying to quiet it. But the crying continued and Jaheira mumbled something about 'fresh air', threw a last dirty look at Imoen, turned and walked out. Fritha sighed and shook her head before continuing her search of the cabin. A couple of journals and an interesting selection of weapons later and she and Imoen rejoined the others in the adjacent room. Jaheira had managed to quieten the child somewhat but his low grizzling still filled the air.
'Ah, there you are,' she announced abruptly as they entered, marching up and thrusting the boy out at them.
The girls froze.
'Well, take him then! I've got to finish with Minsc.'
'But what about Khalid, or Dynaheir,' cried Imoen, taking a step behind her friend.
The druid's expression darkened, the two in question suddenly becoming very interested in the parchment they had found, the child seeming to sense this tension in the group as the crying immediately went up a notch. Jaheira glared at Fritha accusingly and resigned, the girl held out her hands.
'All right, show me what to do.'
The woman's instructions were hardly what Fritha would have called thorough though, Jaheira doing little more than dumping the child into her arms and telling her not to drop him, something even Fritha could have probably worked out for herself.
And Imoen was little use either, suggesting so many different remedies at a rate that left Fritha with no time to start one before she was proposing another. So in the end, she sent Imoen off to look for Dradeel's book, found herself a quiet corner and sat with the boy cradled in her lap, gently recounting to him the various punishments she would be inflicting upon Imoen for waking him, as soon as her friend was sensible enough to truly appreciate them.
Minsc's arm bandaged, they finally headed out; the ship eerie and silent as they descended through the decks. Fritha walked at their centre with the child, who seemed to sense the atmosphere too and gave no more than a stifled whimper as he pressed his face into her neck. All around them, the shadows of the remaining werewolves, still in their human forms, slinked and prowled, watching them with narrowed eyes. But no one stopped their passage and Fritha suspected the next fight within that rotting hulk would be a strictly in-pack affair. At last they reached the hold, and moments later she was stood on the grass outside, blinking in the sunlight, a cool breeze sweeping in from the sea to banish the last of her fears, even the child's fretful crying heartening in its own way.
'Hey now, what's all this?' she asked gently, smoothing a hand over the soft blonde head, the boy looking up as though surprised to be addressed. 'The worst is over now, we're all out, safe and sound.'
'Fritha, come on!' cried Imoen who was already ahead of them, marching back towards Dradeel's house. Fritha glanced to the boy and shrugged, readjusting her hold slightly and setting off after her, continuing their conversation as though they had not been interrupted.
'You're quite lucky really, this will be a proper story to tell your grandchildren. Stolen by werewolves when you were just a child. You can even say you had a hand in our escape, helped fight them off and such. They'll not hear otherwise from me…'
xxx
Jaheira smiled to herself, looking ahead to where Fritha was carrying the child, telling him the names of the trees and plants as they went, every now and then, picking up an interesting-looking flower or stone for his closer inspection.
She had to admit it, she was impressed.
That the girl had managed to quieten him whilst they were still in the ship was commendable, but once outside, Fritha had wrought such a drastic transformation in the child that even Dynaheir had started to show an interest, the boy giggling and babbling away nonsensically as she talked with him.
'Obviously they're a closer level of intelligence,' she'd muttered to Khalid at the time, but to be honest she really did marvel at the way Fritha had taken to the child.
The party had arrived back at the hut by now and Jaheira moved over to where Fritha had halted, waiting for the rest of them to catch up, still chatting to the child at her hip.
'Now we're going to see Dradeel. He's a mage who's been trapped here for hu-ndreds of years, so he's quite mad. But don't worry, he's very nice and-'
'Fritha, dost thou really think there is any point in telling all that to that… child,' Dynaheir cut in, staring warily at the boy as though merely mentioning his name was likely to provoke him.
'Oh, Dynaheir, don't be so mean!' cried Imoen, turning to the child and leaning in far too close, causing the boy to hide his face once more in Fritha's neck. 'Frithy is just keeping you occupied, isn't she. Yes, she is, yes she is.'
Fritha looked severely unimpressed.
'Frithy? I hope that speech impediment's going to wear off with the potion.'
Jaheira snorted, pushing past them both to knock on the mage's door, a muffled reply drifting through the wood.
'W-Who is it. Friend or foe?'
'It's us, Dradeel,' shouted Imoen, blithely brandishing the tome she'd found, 'we've got your book.'
'My book!'
The door flew open a hand appearing from nowhere to snatch it from her, the mage hugging it to his chest.
'Yes, yes, yes!'
And before anyone else could speak, he waved his hand, a silvery portal shimmering behind him and he was gone.
'Charming!' complained Fritha, the first to break the stunned silence, turning to the child in her arms. 'Well, that wasn't very nice, was it, my lamb. No, it wasn't.'
She bounced him slightly, the boy shrieking with delight and moving a chubby fist to grab an inviting lock of her hair.
'Ow ow ow ow!' she winced, lowering her head as the child pulled down. Dynaheir stepped in to the rescue though, distracting the boy long enough for Fritha to pry her hair free while the others filtered into the hut.
'Anything we can use?' she asked as she followed them inside.
'I think I've found that boy's cloak,' said Jaheira straightening from a chest to hold up a muddy length of material and Fritha tried not to look too interested, turning away to come face to face with Imoen and a large sheaf of bound papers.
'And look! Look Fritha, look what he's got in his recipe book. I tell you, that Dradeel, madder than a bag of cats, he was. Mad, mad, mad.'
Fritha sighed as the child on her hip began to fret again at the noise.
She'd soon be joining him, if Imoen didn't calm down.