General disclaimer: I own nothing, even Maiyn generally decides her own path.
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Leaving Town
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Duke Eltan and Scar listened with serious faces as Imoen and Jaheira took turns to explain what had happened with each of their missions. They'd already been told about Coran's reason for carrying Namara around with him, and Duke Eltan had smiled slightly at the sight. When they were done the Duke nodded, and produced a pouch from a drawer in his desk. He handed it to Khalid.
"Your reward - I would say it has been more than earned by your displays," he said gravely. "The tales of the doppelgangers are most worrying indeed, especially since it seems that they took Emissary Tar as a potential target to imitate."
"Did you see any signs of Jhasso at the Seven Suns?" asked Scar.
"No," said Jaheira, shaking her head. "We were concerned there would me more shapeshifters returning to the compound when we were only in a small group. We had seen enough to know what dangers there were."
"I understand," replied the commander. "I am worried that he may still be held there, possibly alive. He would be the source of their information from that side, and I suspect he may be still alive in the building."
"It is possible," conceded Jaheira. "We did not go much further than the first floor for fear of becoming trapped. We could return there now, if you wish, and examine the place more thoroughly while we are high in numbers."
"I would appreciate it if you could," admitted Scar, looking to Maiyn. She nodded.
"We will go there immediately, and return with what we find," she said, leading her companions from the Duke's office. When they got outside she drew Coran aside, preparing to send him back to the inn. Before she could talk, however, a small boy came running up.
"'Scuse me Miss, Sir," he exclaimed cheerily. "You'd happen to be Mr Coran I'm thinking, and this'd be little Miss Namara and Miss Maiyn?"
Maiyn looked a little concerned by the boy's recognition, but Coran nodded to the boy and took the letter he was proffered.
"Miss Brielbara asked me to deliver this to ye, but I was having a real job finding you! Good day to ye both!" He tipped his hat and darted off into the crowds while Coran opened the parchment.
"Brielbara's affairs are settled, and she'd like to take Namara back," said Coran when he was done. Maiyn paled almost instantly, but she swallowed and nodded.
"Here... take some of this gold," she said, pulling a small pouch of coin from her belt. Within was a large portion of the profit they'd made from selling the surplus weapons from Sarevok's acolytes. "Brielbara will look more favourably at you if you don't arrive empty-handed."
Coran grinned to her. "You would trust a thief with party's gold?"
"I would trust you with the gold," corrected Maiyn. "You have earned your share anyway."
"Thank you, Maiyn," he said sincerely, accepting the bag. "But what... what do you mean about Briel's favour?"
Maiyn's throat seemed to constrict. "Coran, you sired Namara on Brielbara, and you are quite fond of the child. It is the right thing for you to-"
Coran interrupted her by pulling her close to him. "A'maelamin," he whispered to her, "you and me is the right thing... the whole thing. I will go to Briel now while you perform your duties, and I shall meet you at the inn later if you believe in me."
He kissed her cheek gently before he turned and walked off quickly into the crowd. Maiyn watched him go, her heart heavy despite his words. A hand on her shoulder made her turn, and she saw Khalid standing there.
"We n-need to go on," he said gently.
Maiyn nodded, and adjusted the bow on her back as she composed herself. The others were watching her with pity in their eyes, and she didn't like it. Even Xan looked sorrowful for her.
"We go to the Seven Suns," she said firmly, setting off in the direction of the building. "Be ready to fight."
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"Well, you'll get naught from me this day," spat the man they found in the cellar. "Not a cry of pain, nor the knowledge I possess! Get away from me, shapeshifting scum!"
"We're not shapeshifters," said Maiyn sternly, ignoring his disbelieving stare. "We've been sent by Scar to-"
The man's face lit up in hope. "You know of Scar?" He broke into a smile at her nod. "I am Jhasso, a friend of his and the owner of the Seven Suns."
"I am Maiyn," she said politely, "and we were sent to find you, and find out what has happened here."
"It's them shapeshifters," said Jhasso weakly. The days of captivity had not left him in the best of health it seemed. "They started infiltrating us, possibly months ago. I'm sure they started with the less important members, but then they captured me and took my face. They've kept me alive to torture for information on the Coster."
The ranger nodded, and signalled for Minsc and Khalid to help the man up the stairs. "We are going back to the Flaming Fist building now," she explained. "We shall see you there safely if you wish?"
"I would appreciate that," coughed Jhasso, causing Jaheira to insist he drank one of her potions. When he had finished he looked much healthier, and seemed to possess more strength.
"I thank you for your help," he said, looking around to see the bodies of the doppelgangers they'd fought to get to him. More had returned since their initial foray into the Coster, and more were likely to turn up it seemed.
"I am sure the Flaming Fist will send some men around to ensure any who come back are dealt with," said Maiyn assuredly, noticing his worried look. This seemed to appease him, and together they headed back to the headquarters. A yell from Yeslick made Maiyn jump, however, and she turned to see the dwarf scowling at Imoen. The young thief was looking fairly abashed.
"Get yer hands off me amulet," muttered the cleric as Maiyn turned back to the road. She grinned to herself, noting Alora's rather smug look.
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When Duke Eltan and Scar had finished talking to Jhasso, Scar took him away to organise some men to return to his trading house with him for protection and security. Duke Eltan went to his desk, and produced a book from one of the drawers. It looked old and dusty, and when he held it out for Maiyn she hesitated in accepting - the slightest touch looked as if it could damage it beyond repair.
"I assure you, it is not as fragile as it looks," smiled the Duke. "You will need it to enter Candlekeep."
Maiyn had taken the book, and froze at his words. She knew it was inevitable, but with other things happening, it had managed to slip her mind. Duke Eltan noticed her shift, and he nodded sympathetically.
"It will be difficult to go back for you both," he said, glancing also to Imoen who was looking down at her feet. "After Gorion, I would imagine that a return to your former home may hold many bittersweet memories."
"It shall," said Maiyn quietly, "but it is there we must go. I thank you for this - for a way for us to get within. We shall not let you down."
"I know," nodded the elderly man with a warm smile. "Be careful out there; I am looking forward to our next meeting."
The companions filed down the stairs, and out the large doors of the building. It was still quite early in the afternoon, and Jaheira turned to Maiyn.
"Do we leave tomorrow?" she asked.
Maiyn nodded. "We will leave first thing, and that way we should only need to rest once on the way," she said thoughtfully. "Kivan - what is the most direct route to Candlekeep, and how long will it take?"
"The most direct route?" asked the ranger, his eye glinting mischievously. "Are you sure? You won't like the answer."
Maiyn glared at him until he relented.
"Through Cloakwood..." he shrugged, amused by her expression of horror. "Of course, we could skirt around the forest, and your estimation of two days if we leave early enough would be about right."
"We gonna stay at the Friendly Arms?" asked Imoen.
Maiyn shook her head. "We can camp somewhere for a night, and cut a tiny bit from our journey by going between the inn and that forest. I want us all to be ready to leave the inn at dawn."
A chorus of groans from Alora, Imoen and Xan made Maiyn smile slightly. It would be good to be back on the road with her trusted companions. It is just a shame that we will likely be missing one.
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When they got back to the inn, Maiyn settled herself in a seat by the fire, it becoming her customary habit. She let her gaze fall upon the flames, and her daydreams encompassed her, making her oblivious to her companions' conversations. Alora was talking to Xan, trying to improve his humour. The halfling was determined, despite the enchanter's morose replies and constant sighs of despair.
"Cheer up, misery guts! You need to turn that frown upside down!" she exclaimed for the third time.
"What exactly is there to be happy about?" asked Xan, his deadpan expression causing Imoen to go into fits of giggles. The enchanter looked at her blankly.
"Well," said Alora thoughtfully. "Life itself, for one thing!"
Xan sat up, leaning over to the small thief with a look that clearly said 'listen to me, and listen well'. "Let me tell you something about life, little one. You know what the one guarantee in life is?"
"Hair loss?"
"Death," retorted Xan, ignoring her eye rolling.
"Well yes," she snorted, "but what about all the good stuff that comes before that? Like love?" She smiled triumphantly to him, but he merely groaned and slumped back into his seat.
"Love is but a fleeting thing," he said morosely, his eyes glancing quickly to Maiyn, still caught up in her own dreams. "Once it is gone, there is only one thing to look forward to."
"Uh, death?" asked Alora.
"Precisely," said Xan dryly, getting up to go to the bar for a stiff drink.
Alora took the opportunity to glare fiercely at Imoen, who was laughing hysterically. Alora had said that she was capable of any challenge, even beyond thievery, but Imoen had insisted there were a few things beyond any mortal man or woman. Alora had snorted, and Imoen had innocently suggested she try cheering Xan up, something that the halfling had responded to with some contempt. Imoen had shrugged.
"Well, if ya ain't up for the task..."
The halfling knew now that Imoen had done it deliberately, and that she had very little hope, if any at all, of passing the mission. "I'll get you back for this," she hissed to the human as Xan returned. Imoen giggled as Alora's charming smile returned to her face and she regarded the elf.
"You know, Xan, you have a rather dreary outlook on life," she stated seriously.
"What exactly is there to be excited about?" sighed Xan.
"Oh, I don't know!" exclaimed Alora. "There's got to be something. Anything!"
Xan looked thoughtful as he sipped some of his wine. "Well, there is one thing, I suppose," he said eventually.
"Yes?" asked Alora, looking at Imoen with a smug expression.
"An end to this conversation would cheer me up no end."
Alora frowned at him, but then her face creased, and she broke out into a fit of giggles, which rapidly turned into howling laughter with Imoen.
"What's so funny?" asked a bewildered Xan.
"'An end'! 'No 'end'!" imitated Alora, using the enchanter's dour tones, causing Imoen to cry in her hilarity. Xan merely sighed, deciding he didn't understand the young girls in the group. Their laughter continued for some minutes, until Imoen suddenly stopped.
"Maiyn" she hissed, watching her friend completely ignore her. The thief picked up a spoon from the table and threw it at the ranger, bouncing it off her head. The elf turned to glare at her, but Imoen was pointing frantically at the door. Maiyn looked over and saw Coran.
Her mouth opened in surprise, and she stood up shakily. He was scouring the room, and when his eyes landed on her a huge beaming smile crossed his face. Within seconds he was before her
"A'maelamin Maiyn, cormamin lindua ele lle..." he murmured, caressing her cheek with his hand and awaiting her response. She caught his hand in her own and matched his smile.
"And so does mine heart sing at the sight of you," she said happily, squealing in delight as the fighter swept her from her feet, and swirled her around.
"Ah, I have missed you so!" he exclaimed, completely ignoring the amused stares of both their companions and the other patrons of the establishment.
"It's like you have never been gone!" laughed Maiyn, her heart lighter than she could remember it being in a long time. He had come back.
"How have you been, my love? Unhurt from earlier? And not seduced by some irresponsible vagabond? I want to know of every moment I have missed..." Coran dragged her to a seat, where she detailed the events of the day to him, and heard in turn about his trip to return Namara. Brielbara had been glad to see him and overjoyed to have her daughter back. He had asked to visit regularly, and she had agreed that it would be in their child's benefit.
"When I visit, I would very much like it if you were by my side," he said gently, entwining his fingers into the ranger's hair.
"I would be happy to," said Maiyn with a smile, "though it may have to wait until we return from Candlekeep as we need to leave for there tomorrow."
"I think you misunderstand me, Maiyn," he whispered. "I do not just mean my next visit... or the next five or ten. I mean that whenever I return to visit Namara, I hope you will be by my side each time."
Maiyn smiled delightedly at him, and threw her arms around him. "I hope so too," she whispered back, and she felt his arms squeeze her fondly in his embrace.
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The rain fell heavily as they walked the next day, and spirits were fairly low due to the conditions. Maiyn, alone, was wonderfully high, completely unaffected by the seriousness of the task ahead, the dreary drizzle, or the long, brisk walk. Not only had Coran chosen to return to be by her side, and implied that he wanted it to be for many years, but Xan had drawn her away from the group just before they retired, and said sorry for his behaviour a few nights before.
Maiyn had been surprised by his apology, but she was thankful; he was a good friend, and she reiterated this as they spoke. He nodded, expressing a sincere gratitude at their friendship and soon all bad feeling was forgotten. Coran even joined them for a drink, teasing Maiyn about her fear of spiders while Xan chimed in with the odd sarcastic remark. By the time they got to their own rooms, any rift that had formed had healed. Her group were unified again, with even Jaheira and Khalid being suspiciously pleasant to Coran.
Imoen was spending more and more time with Alora, the two mischievous young girls getting each other into trouble on a regular basis. Maiyn was happy that Imoen had made a solid friendship though; she'd felt guilty over her relationship with Coran, knowing she was spending time with the fighter at the expense of her childhood friendship, but Imoen had insisted that she was fine. Maiyn knew by the sometimes sad look in her eyes though, when Maiyn would chatter amiably in elvish to her kin, that the thief sometimes felt left out. The ranger nodded to herself determinedly, and sidled over to the young human. Alora was trying to pick Coran's pocket as they walked; for some reason the fighter didn't notice her at all, caught up in his own thoughts as he followed Kivan's lead.
"Hey," said Maiyn quietly to Imoen. The thief shot a smile back. "I was wondering... with there being quite so many elves in the group now, we sometimes find ourselves talking away in elvish without meaning to. And well, since you picked up magic so quickly, I thought you'd maybe like to learn..."
Imoen hooted in happy surprise at the offer. "You're gonna teach me elvish?" she asked. "That'd be great! Tell me some now!"
"Well," said Maiyn thoughtfully, going over some basic phrases until Imoen had the pronunciation mastered.
"What does 'A'maelamin' mean?" asked Imoen, with the faintest hint of a smile on her otherwise innocent face.
Maiyn flushed. "It's just, you know, a friendly term," she said dismissively.
"It means 'my beloved'" came Xan's voice, who had been listening to the lesson without them realising. Maiyn coughed slightly, and blushed more when Imoen started teasing her.
"Well, you'll more often than not hear Xan muttering something like 'dolle naa lost'," said Maiyn with an evil grin at the enchanter. "I've heard him use it at least once for everyone present..."
Xan protested this claim, but Imoen clamoured to know what it meant and Maiyn giggled.
"It means 'your head is empty'," she relented, watching with amusement as Imoen glared at the enchanter. He merely shrugged, neither denying the sentiment or justifying it.
"C'mon Xanny," cried Imoen, stepping over to walk beside him. "Tell me some of your catchphrases!"
"Catchprases?" asked Xan, genuinely puzzled. He looked over to Maiyn, who put on her most innocent expression, and shrugged helplessly. She knew he wasn't fooled for a second.
"Yeah, you know - like 'life is hollow!' and 'we're all doomed!'," giggled Imoen helplessly, holding onto his arm to steady herself as she laughed. Xan simply rolled his eyes and sighed, supporting the thief while she composed herself. A cry from slightly ahead distracted all three of them.
"Give me that back!"
"Ah, I got it!" squealed Alora, waving Coran's gem pouch at Imoen with pride. "I told ya I could!"
Coran snatched the bag from the halfling's hands, and put it back safely into his pocket, looking slightly abashed at being caught out. "Ah, so it was a challenge, was it?" he asked, his eyes twinkling. "In that case..."
Coran grabbed Alora and slung her over his shoulder in a most undignified manner. The thief hammered her fists into his back, shrieking and shouting at him to put her down, but the elf ignored her completely, and sauntered along happily.
Jaheira turned to see what the fuss was about, and Maiyn prepared herself for the reproach. Instead the druid noted the halfling's predicament, and a look of mild amusement crossed her face. "I suggest, Coran," she said with a smile, "that if you wish to carry Alora much further, you also employ a gag to drown out her shouts. We do not wish to attract overly much attention to our travels, and if this is to be a regular habit of ensuring the women don't tire themselves out, then I shall be sure to expect my turn at being carried. I trust you would hold the older woman much more gracefully though." Jaheira's eyes sparkled as she turned back to face the front, and Maiyn beamed at Coran's surprised face.
"I can assure you, my dear druid," called Coran, "that if I were to carry your pretty form anywhere, I would firstly ask the permission of your charming husband, then ensure I had a steed of the swiftest kind to whisk you to your destination with elegance and grace."
"That's all well an' good," came Alora's muffled voice, "but will you please put me down!"
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They camped just south and west of the Friendly Arm Inn after a long day of marching. The weather had improved slightly, and looked to be promising for the next day, much to the relief of Dynaheir. The Rashemeni witch was not a fan of wet weather, but she had managed to stop complaining incessantly about her robes being soaked and heavy, and instead just followed the others sullenly.
"Alora, if you do not mind me asking, do your parents know where you are and what you are doing?" asked Coran as they huddled around the campfire after eating.
The halfling peered at him. "Nope. How 'bout yours?"
"Ah, I visited them only a short time ago."
"Oh, that's when that wizard caught you with his wife and you had to flee the Gate?" asked Alora casually. Maiyn flinched slightly, and Coran instinctively took her hand for comfort.
"No, it was after Ivette... or was it Anette..." He paused a second to think. "Well, whichever, she told me that we were over for the third time and I felt that it was over... Never mind. It cannot be more than ten years. Tethyr is too far away... and besides it is too idyllic for my liking, but I miss my parents. Do you?"
"Aye," Alora shrugged, "I guess. A bit, every now and then; but I think the further I am from them, the fonder of them I am. Funny, huh?"
"You know, they might be worried sick about you," said Coran, deadly serious. "If I did not know where Namara was..."
"Heh, Namara is a baby Coran!" exclaimed the thief. "I'd worry about her too, if she started living on her own at that age..."
Coran frowned slightly. "Alora, you are taking what I am saying too lightly, I think," he continued sternly. "Maybe once you have kids of your own you will understand..."
Imoen blinked at the fighter. "Coran, are you feverish?"
"No... I am just..." Coran shook his head slightly and sighed. "I do not know! I am sorry, Alora - I have all sorts of strange thoughts in my head lately. I must be coming down with father's fever."
The two young girls giggled, but Coran saw Maiyn staring at him absentmindedly, a small smile adorning her face. He grinned sheepishly and put his arm around her, ignoring the teasing comments coming from the other thieves. Imoen suddenly nudged Alora, and pointed to Yeslick. With an evil grin, the human got up silently and wandered over to the dozing dwarf.
"Heya, gramps!" she exclaimed cheerily as she sat down beside him. Yeslick jumped, startled from his slumber.
"Wha! Huh? What... what? Imoen! Why does ya always come up behind me when I'm... when I'm thinkin'?"
"Do you always think when asleep?" asked Imoen with a grin.
"I... er... gah," sighed the dwarf. "Alright, alright, I'm awake now. What did you want me fer, then?"
"Oh, um... nothing..." said Imoen innocently. "Can't I just come and talk with you?"
"Likely story," grumbled Yeslick. "Listen, if I get wind of ya tryin' to steal me stuff, lass, I swears I'll put mousetraps in me pack..."
"Ouch!" Imoen looked hurt. "I wasn't stealin' nothing! I was just practicing my sneaks, and thought I'd warm up on you before I tried one of the others!"
"I hope yer not implyin' I am somehow the least alert of this 'ere group?" replied Yeslick indignantly. "I'll have ya know I gots at least one eye on everyone all the time! And me pack too, ya little scamp."
"Really?" asked Imoen. "That's kinda hard when you only got two eyes. How do you see anything else?" Alora began giggling inanely.
"Uh, huh," sighed the cleric, glaring at the halfling. "Yer still be needin' to work on them jokes more if ya wanna impress a dwarf with 'em. Nevermind, though. I'm makin' sure to keep a special watch on ye."
"Aw, c'mon, gramps!" protested the human. "I'd never steal anything from you!"
"Aye, aye, I know," Yeslick chuckled. "Just kiddin' with ya, lass.
"So gramps... um... can you tell me a story?" Imoen flashed her most charismatic smile.
"Me too, me too!" squealed Alora, rushing over to fetch her bedroll, and throwing Imoen's over to the human.
"A story?" asked Yeslick with curiosity. "At bedbyes time? That's... kind o' an odd thing, aye? What do ye want one o' those fer?"
Imoen rolled her eyes as she clambered into her bed. "To get to sleep, dummy. Don't dwarven parents tell stories to their kids to get 'em to sleep?"
"Me dad never told me nothin' o' the sort..." said the dwarf thoughtfully. "He taught me the hymn o' Moradin, he did, when I was a wee foundling. Recited that three times a night afore I let my head touch pillow. 'Oh, lord Soulforger, may thee keep the rats away, may thee not let the roof fall down on me head as I sleep...', an' all that."
"No wonder you guys always wear helmets," said Alora with a frown. "Sleepin' every night underground with a little piece of wood holdin' up the roof! I think I'd go insane worryin' if the roof was gonna collapse on me."
"Ah, ye git used ta it," shrugged Yeslick. "Anyways, a story! I do know a few fables I used ta tell at the Feastin'. Always got a good rousin' cheer, those did. Will the tale o' the Doom o' Lord Fargrim do? 'Tis a tale o' woe an' blood an' war!"
"Sure!" said Imoen excitedly, lying down beside Alora. "Sounds like something ol' Puffguts would tell. Just give me a moment to get comfortable here."
"Aye, then, settle down, settle down." Yeslick cleared his throat. "It befell in the days of anvil's thundering, in the year of the Soulforger's wrath, when Lord Fargrim, King of the Mountain Gleaming, Master of the Clan Trollslayer, Smith of the Spear of Heaven, was ruler in the Dale of Shadows and so reigned about him. For there was a mighty Troll warlord in the Dale of Shadow who did make war upon him... and..." Yeslick paused for a moment. "Ah, and by so means Alric, Lord of the clan hosts, Hammer of Goblins, Steel-helmed, did send for him. And the Troll's son was known by many names; Spear-toothed, Scale-hide, the Claw of the Mountain, but chiefly as Garglish, Chieftain of the Foul Moon tribe."
Maiyn buried her face into Coran's chest to muffle her giggling, and the elf stroked her hair fondly, his own face showing much amusement. The other companions were also listening to the dwarf's tale, all with the same reaction.
"And lo," continued the cleric, oblivious to all the attention, "Garglish, Spear-tooth, Scale-hide, Claw of the Mountain, Chieftain of the Foul Moon tribe did come to Alric, Lord of the clan hosts, Hammer of Goblins, Steel-helmed, as trusted envoy for his father, the foul Grargar, Fang-maw, Rending-claw. And alongside Alric, Lord of the clan hosts, Hammer of Goblins, Steel-helmed, stood Fargrim, Mountain-master, Troll-slayer, Spear-Smith. And he did say unto him, 'Thou hast come as I bid, Garglish, Spear-tooth, Scale-hide, Claw of the Mountain, Chieftain of...' uhm..." Yeslick scratched his head. "'Chieftain of the Foul Moon tribe...' erm..."
A small snore escaped from one of the girls and Yeslick peered at their forms.
"Imoen? Alora? You listenin', lasses?"
"I think your tale worked wonderfully," said Jaheira quietly, grinning to the dwarf.
"Ah didnae even get to the good bits," pouted Yeslick.
"Maybe next time," grinned Jaheira, before offering her services for the first watch. A schedule was quickly arranged, and the campfire was extinguished, the camp falling into silence.
