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Summary: Edwin Odesseiron will stop at nothing to obtain what he so rightfully deserves - loyalty, respect, and unchallenged dominion over these ungrateful simians. Unfortunately, he gets *exactly* what he wants.
For Laufey at the Baldur's Gate Gift Exchange 2022.
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Everybody Loves Edwin
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Sarevok clenched with a grasp that could crush the hilt of any mortal sword.
"Relinquish the Red Wizard this instant for he is mine."
With matching fervor, Minsc tightened his own hold.
"The Red Wizard belongs to Minsc! You will find that a berserker of Rashemen does not yield his prey so easily! Right, Boo?"
Between them, Edwin Odesseiron grimaced, casting nervous glances at the two gigantic warriors. They flanked him on each side and clutched his arms in viselike, circulation-killing grip.
"No! I command both of you lummoxes to unhand me. (I had aspirations about being fought over by a pair of beguilingly strapping Amazons but this exceeds the limits of absurdity!)"
And a few paces in front of them, Imoen stood alone, casually stroking Boo. Perched on her palm, the hamster nonchalantly nibbled on a biscuit. She shrugged and sighed like a resigned mother watching her children fighting over a treasured toy.
"Uhm, hey you all," she drawled. "You might not want to pull at him too hard like some rag doll. Well, maybe a rag doll dressed in red mage robes with a beard and tattoos. Oh, wait… that is one ugly rag doll."
All three men glared at her, Edwin most of all.
"How dare you allegorize my most eminent person with some common household obje-," he shouted but yelped, cut off by a sudden pull from the Sembian's side. Not to be outdone, Minsc countered with an equally strong tug. Edwin flinched. If this sordid contest were to continue unabated, then these fools will end up pulling his limbs out of their sockets!
Amid their roars of challenge and Imoen's pleas and Boo's squeaks, Edwin groaned.
How in the realms did he allow himself to descend into this bottomless ditch of madness, anyway?
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Edwin's hands quivered while unfurling the scroll. Reverently. Cautiously. Judiciously. The columns rolled away to reveal the lines tantalizingly teasing him, practically glistening with unspeakable power. Another one of the elusive Nether Scrolls, plundered from some forgotten crypt, one of the insignificant many that their calamitous band had stumbled upon in their travels.
Imoen had pointed out that the words Certified Genuine, Just Ask the Halruaans scribbled hastily at the topmost margin of the parchment looked suspiciously shady. Well, what does a larcenous brat dabbling blindly in the arcane know about ancient magics from long-departed empires?
And so Edwin continued to unfold the scroll, trembling with jubilant expectation.
While hunched over the privy within this miserable wooden stall in this miserable rundown excuse for an inn.
No matter. Even the humblest beginnings shall soon fade from mortal memory once unimaginable power had been attained.
"More than a bell's toll in there already, Mage, and you have yet to attain relief," came the mocking of the Sembian from over the panel, presently bathing himself in the stall to his right.
Edwin scowled, if his glare could only pierce through the wood. Mock as much as he and the rest of their group often did, but within himself Edwin swore that when he has finally achieved true greatness, all of them shall bow and bend to his will!
"Bow and bend? Maybe that is why the evil Red Wizard is yet to relieve himself! Boo says if you are always bent over like a cackling old crone, your insides get all twisted and cannot pass even the tiniest whistle, like a flute clogged with crusted spittle," came the imbecilic babbling of the Rashemi from the stall to his left.
Edwin sputtered, panicking for a moment. "What? (How are these cretins capable of reading my mind?)"
"Reading your mind?" Sarevok boomed, his rumbling chuckle followed by the slap of a towel against any of his ridiculously meaty pectorals. "One doesn't require elven hearing to catch your mutterings, Mage. Perhaps the gods still favor me in some regard, for had I employed you in my inner circle, the whole of Baldur's Gate might've already caught wind of my plans and foiled them much sooner."
"Oh hoho, so you can hear the Red Wizard's squirrelly whining too! Sometimes I wish to put him in a sack when we must trek the woods, lest wild animals and wicked bandits hear of his grumblings first. But Boo says to let him be – so should he step into a trap we will all hear his wimpish screams. And then we will know where we should put down our foot aside from the evil butts in need of kicking," Minsc said, his rejoinder followed by careless splashing and the smacking of the bucket against the floor.
"You are a simpleton for taking counsel from a critter. But that is sage advice nonetheless."
"Minsc may not be one for tomes and talk of deep sayings. But even I know those are wise words for the woods from a hamster of outer space!"
And they chortled their hearty warriorlike guffaws. Two shaven gorillas with more mass in their pinkies than inside their craniums, affably agreeing together? How heartwarming. Edwin cringed. And utterly sickening.
But never mind these fools! Once he had properly cast the spell from this Nether Scroll, all will certainly fall to their knees and worship at his feet. Edwin furrowed his brows as he peered into the parchment, eyes skimming over the primers. As it would appear, within the scroll lay a powerful magic to turn the disposition of hostile mortal humanoids to be unbendingly benevolent to the caster, regardless of any conflicting alignments. Then how is this different from any of the standard enchantments to control the thoughts of the weak-minded?
And his query was met with the following transcript – The charm does not render the targets into unthinking drones, rather they retain their sentience and will. Only that their minds shall be thoroughly enlightened, comprehensively persuaded that seeking the caster's welfare is aligned with their principles and goals. Meanwhile, no resistance, whether magical or natural, can counteract this potent spell. None. At. All.
Edwin narrowed his eyes at the outrageous claim but clicked his tongue dismissively and continued his perusal.
"Furthermore, the spell is instantly cast," he recited the instructions, then raised a brow in level with his voice. "Upon audibly articulating the magic phrase - Everybodyyay Oveslay Emay?"
As soon as the words left his lips, a sudden fleeting breeze wafted through him. Where did that come from? Edwin glanced up and sniffed. Nothing unpleasant, mercifully. Resuming his reading of the scroll, he absently pulled at his mustache. What kind of tongue-knotting gibberish is this? And then the thinnest line drawn from the end of the spell words led down to the bottom margin. A footnote.
And indeed, upon the nethermost sideline, there scrawled a warning – Furthermore, although we had scribed the magic on three-ply parchment which will not disintegrate upon use, this is a one-time spell only. As such, be cautious on whom and when to cast it. By the way, this cannot be dispelled whether by magic arcane or divine. In other words, the spell will last FOREVER or until the targets are DEAD. Might still be in effect if they're raised or resurrected or returned as undead, but who knows for we are yet to receive feedback from our satisfied customers. Given the permanence of the enchantment, beware and be sure to pronounce the verbal components only within the vicinity of the intended targets. Otherwise, the spell will affect the nearest creatures whether within your line of sight or hidden. Good luck and don't forget to have safe and clean wholesome fun!
Just this? Edwin turned over the scroll and examined even the corners if perhaps the Netherese had scribed anything else there. Nothing.
"Where is the rest of it?" Edwin screeched. "Why can I not find it?"
And immediately he regretted his question.
For within a flutter of a heartbeat, some great and pressing force wrenched the stall door from its very hinges. At the loud crack and splinters flying, Edwin shrieked and shielded his face with the scroll. Another heartbeat passed to assure him that he lived yet, still seated and in one piece. Diffidently, he peeled the parchment from his eyes.
There where the door used to be, the ranger and the warrior stood shoulder-to-shoulder. They peered in and loomed over him, heaving from urgency and effort like massive walls of flesh.
Mercifully covered with towels.
"You expressed your need for assistance, Mage. Speak plainly and I shall scour the very depths of the Abyss to retrieve that which you've lost."
"Or perhaps it has flown out the window, whatever it is, and is now in the hands of some evildoer! Let Minsc find the wily thief who has stolen from the Red Wizard that I may kick the thief's thieving butt!"
Edwin blinked up at them, stupefied. Why would these brawn-heads offer him aid? What could explain the sudden anomalous utility from these who cannot even generate the smallest smidgen of respect for his magnificent person? And then it dawned upon Edwin, the horror as sure as sunrise waking him too soon from a night of wanton carousing.
The Nether Scroll.
It actually and inexplicably worked.
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Oh, indeed it worked. It exceeded his expectations as projected.
Whereas priorly the two lunkheads treated him with unconcealed disdain, now they strove with one another to seek his favor.
Though of course, it would've been far preferrable to have cast the spell on an entire legion of potential followers and harem of voluptuous concubines. Yet undeniably, it was utterly satisfying to watch the proud and haughty Sarevok and the once uncompromisingly hostile Minsc practically climbing over each other in the most entertaining contest of who gets to be pleasant to him today.
No more threats to skewer him with their swords whenever he found fault with their very existence!
"Your rebuke of my failure to ascend to godhood is scathing, Mage. But a violent rebuttal serves me no profitable purpose. Might you be pleased by my offer of this strip of beef jerky?"
"Boo does not agree with the Red Wizard's sharp words about the size of Minsc's brain. But I shall not want to try and measure the hardness of your skull with my sword, not anymore. Do you want some beef jerky?"
What about their treatment of him during the most mundane of activities? As when partaking of supper?
"Here, Red Wizard! I would rather have more of this beef jerky, but you can eat some of my share. Then maybe you will bulk up like Minsc and Boo will no longer say that you are as pale and skinny as reject jerky!"
"Why do we content ourselves with rations of middling quality and quantity? Here, Mage, augment your portion with my own share of beef jerky for this meal. Perhaps when we are in the city once more, I shall crusade for provisions that surely yields good value-for-coin."
"As you should. (Mmmm, beef jerky! About time somebody recognized that my delicate tastes must be accommodated, even by travel rations.)," Edwin muttered while accepting the proffered dried meat. With evident savor, he slowly chewed on the salted strips, pointedly ignoring the strange looks from the rest of the party members.
And upon returning to the road?
"Your belongings, Mage, saddle them upon my sturdy shoulders. It shall serve you well to keep your own hands free and unburdened for casting your magic. Practical combat consideration, chiefly if we are caught in an ambush."
"Let Minsc carry your bags, Red Wizard, so you will not grow too weary of walking. Boo says you might not last another league like so and might drop like a fly so tired of buzzing."
Edwin glanced over his shoulder, at his baggage. And why deny them the honor of voluntary physical servitude? Between his newfound pack mules, Edwin preened and pondered what other benefits might he derive from this suddenly remunerative situation.
And then they were waylaid by brigands lying in wait in the woods.
"Stay behind me, Mage, for neither blade nor projectile shall pierce through this hardened flesh of mine and reach you for harm."
"You stay behind me, Red Wizard! Boo says that you are too squishy even for ordinary arrows!"
Rolling his eyes, Edwin flipped at his sleeves and impatiently swatted at his self-appointed protectors. "Out of my way and let me deal with these nuisances expeditiously. (The sooner these pests are destroyed, the sooner I may return to lording it over these lumbering apes.)"
But rather than comply, Sarevok and Minsc batted back at Edwin's hands, disbelief on their faces like parents faced with a mulish toddler.
"And imperil yourself further? Absolutely not and over my previously pile of gold dust for a dead body."
"Do not resist like so, Red Wizard. It will be easier to kick enemy butts when you are not in the way of my righteous boot!"
"Bah! Stop trying to obstruct me, you clumsy simians!"
And a three-way tussled ensued, the warriors' frustrated grunts from the struggle punctuated by the wizard's screeching invectives.
"What in the hells is going on," the Bhaalspawn muttered, pausing from stabbing one of the bandits to stare at the curious scuffle ensuing between the three companions.
"I think they're trying to put Edwin… behind them?" Imoen replied, equally puzzled as she pulled out a dagger from the back of an already expired foe.
"Witless wael," Viconia cursed, already done with her own duel, and impatiently scrubbing off questionable bits from her mace.
"Ah, look at them, just like three healthy young bullocks engaged in the most natural endeavor which is… which is… uhh-," Cernd added after fully returning from lycanthropic form, then blankly scratched his head, for once miraculously bereft of a suitable aphorism.
At the verge of being bodily carried away from the battlefield, Edwin hastily completed the somatic components and rapid-chanted the words to the evocation. "Stop trying to hinder me! Can't you hulking chimps understand that I must have a clear line of sight to cast or else-"
And that, to the chagrin of the uncharmed party members, was the moment when Edwin discovered a new spell.
Mis-Targeted Fireball.
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"You! Help me find a solution to this fiasco. (Which is most certainly not my doing but is entirely blamable upon faulty outdated instructions!)"
Tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth, Imoen ignored the Red Wizard. Narrowing an eye for focus, she clutched a bundle of pinkish strands of hair before snipping off their singed ends with a pair of bejeweled silver shears. Edwin raised a brow at the ornamented scissors in her hands. No doubt pilfered from some simpering noblewoman again.
"I'd love to help ya, Eddie, I really do. But us getting fried by accident every once and a while? Not too bad a price to pay for you three buffleheads getting along and not trying to kill each other every five paces down the road."
"Nonsense! What you truly mean is that everyone's unintentional immolation is a worthy cost for your amusement in witnessing my discomfiture at the hands of those excessively muscled baboons."
Twirling the shears, Imoen giggled to a state of teary-eyed mirth. "Yep, that too! But don't ya worry another wart, 'cause I'm going to help you anyways. And for nothing in return. I'm doing this out of the goodness of my own heart."
Edwin narrowed his eyes, warily edging back. Imoen grinned and raised both hands in an open gesture.
"I swears it," Imoen said. "And well, 'cause some of Viconia's personal stuff got ruined in the fire. Ya know, some girlie things that now she's borrowing from me and not giving back? Figured if I can convince her this won't happen again, then maybe she'll return my super expensive whalebone-framed mirror."
Edwin glowered at her. "You don't have a whalebone-framed mirror. (I do. Which has suspiciously been missing from my belongings for a tenday now.)"
Shrugging, the girl wriggled her fingers glibly and gestured for the Nether Scroll. Huffing, Edwin unfurled it upon the grass and the two huddled together and studied the writings for a good while. Every word, every punctuation, the construction of the phrasings, even the tiny but artfully illustrated spheres dotting the margins which turned out to be nothing more than faded drop stains from some dark beverage.
"Nah, nothing else in here," Imoen muttered, clicking her tongue. "No runes scribed with disappearing ink. No secret codes you can make out even if you read every other letter or turn the whole thing upside down. Nothing. Just, this."
"Unacceptable! There must be some sort of fail-safe embedded in the parchment. (How can the Netherese be so irresponsible in crafting their magic when they are in a world filled with unlearned savages who might stumble into their scrolls and cannot follow the simplest of instructions!)"
"How can you be so irresponsible as to lose sight of him when we are in a world filled with ever-present hazards to mages of frail constitutions?" came Sarevok's biting admonishment from behind the bushes.
From behind the same shrubbery came an indignant reply. "Minsc's hawk-like eyes did not lose sight of him, but your glowy eyes did. But worry no more, for Boo's nose is keen and will aid us in tracking him down easily, even if he were like a slippery red eel burrowing so sneakily in the sand!"
And as if some horrible cue from a cruel Universe, the hedging parted, branches snapping and leaves scattering as it were from a storm, to reveal the relieved faces of the warrior and the ranger.
"There you are, Red Wizard! It is good that Boo can sniff you out among these trees, like he can sniff out evil and overly musky cheap perfume oil!"
"Perhaps, for your own preservation, Mage, I must strongly impress upon you the imperativeness of staying close to a warrior of consummate skill and prowess such as I."
Edwin stared up at them, beheld the dreadful determination in their eyes, and did the only sensible thing he could do without magic.
He tried to flee on his own two legs.
And failed miserably.
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Now caught between these contesting giants, Edwin grimaced, gritting his teeth until he could no longer contain himself.
"Release me this instant or I swear that I shall incinerate every single strand of hair remaining on your skin! (Yes, even the peach fuzz.)"
But his words had little effect on the conviction of his self-proclaimed warders. Rather, it goaded them even more to pull harder.
"Threaten us as much as you wish, but your insults are minor tests against the will which sustained me to claw my way back to the living."
"Boo says that a fireball to my face is not very nice. But I say if we bind you, tight enough like a boar lashed to the hunter's pole, then you cannot get away from us anymore."
"That's… a pretty smart idea, really," Imoen murmured, nodding while scratching Boo's ear.
Edwin sputtered at her. "You are not helping! (Why am I always saddled with such lackwits for companions?)"
"A hunter's pole, you say, Rashemi? That is an excellent suggestion. But against whose pole are we tying him then?" Sarevok asked in a tone more challenging than inquiring.
"Minsc's, of course! Boo and I shall carve a worthy totem pole for the Red Wizard!"
"A pathetic proposal! I shall acquire my own trading galleon, with a mast covered from base to tip with the most glittering jewels, a far more glorious pillar against which to bind this Mage that he may stay within my sight for all time."
"Whoa, maybe this is all getting a little out of hand now," Imoen whispered over at Edwin who could only glare in return.
When none would agree on whose pole is better, the tug-of-war intensified. Edwin winced. More than his fragile limbs, the seams of his exquisitely tailored robe might not endure another round. However, both stood firm in their resolve to expropriate him for themselves. In sheer desperation, Edwin yelled out an unthinkable compromise.
"Hold, you greedy apes! There is no need to fight when there is enough of Edwin Odesseiron to go around!"
Sarevok and Minsc paused and traded skeptical glances.
"What do you mean by there being a sufficient measure of you to be shared between us, Mage?"
"How? Can the Red Wizard be divided up like an evil mustachioed cherry pie?"
Divided? Well, he may have almost failed his Arcane Arithmetics back in the day, but he certainly learned a thing or two about Magical Multiplication.
Edwin Odesseiron beamed a triumphant smile.
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A Simulacrum. An illusory yet fully sentient duplicate that will remain in existence until dispelled. Even better, a simulacrum can be healed when injured from battle or overly enthusiastic manhandling. Furthermore, it shall always stay under the caster's full control even as it is in possession of nearly all the original's abilities.
But a tenth less of his charm and brilliance, Edwin assessed with certainty.
Indeed, the solution proved practical and effective. The casting was no simple feat but it proved not even a challenge for a Red Wizard of his stature, of course. The components all easily sourced - ice or snow to be conjured to construct the base frames, some hair and nail clippings of his, a considerable amount of gold and powdered ruby. The latter components were easily produced by Imoen, no doubt filched from merchants and noblefolk unfortunate enough to have crossed their paths once.
Right away, the conjured duplicates were foisted over to Minsc and Sarevok, each now seemingly satisfied with having their own Edwins to possess, protect and pester without prohibitions.
"I am aware that this fabricated creature is a mere imitation. But if the Mage's wellbeing can only be achieved by acceptance of this arrangement, then so be it."
"Minsc can tell that this is not the real Red Wizard. But Boo says this is for the good of all. And if that means I have my own Red Wizard to roast evildoers after which I shall stomp on their teeny wicked ashes, then Minsc is also content."
And with that, Sarevok and Minsc marched off, their Edwins grumbling and threatening fiery deaths upon them but dangling helplessly over their shoulders.
Even Boo was given his own Edwin – to crawl all over, chew, and nibble on to his tiny furry heart's content.
On other hand, Viconia claimed three Edwins for herself. None dared to dispute her demand.
Likewise, Cernd requested an Edwin of his own. No one wanted to speculate on the reason why, and no one wanted to ask.
Pleased with their accomplishment, Edwin and Imoen leaned back against a tree, pouring magically-iced wine into their tin mugs. About to drink from their tankards, their gloating was rudely interrupted by the angry Bhaalspawn who barged in upon their celebration, a grumbling Edwin in tow.
"Why do I have to have my own Edwin? I didn't ask for an overblown windbag gabbling straight into my ear!"
Imoen tilted her head, then grinned generously. "Oh, you don't want one? Here, have another!"
With a bored expression, the Red Wizard casually snapped a finger. Another simulacrum popped from the bushes and wasted no time in joining the Bhaalspawn's Edwin.
"Now that there are two of us to plot your overthrow, then perhaps this time we shall succeed and finally seize the leadership of this miserable excuse for an adventuring company for ourselves! (And obtain our rightful say to how and where to expend the party funds. Like an eight-course supper with bottomless wine in that pricey tankard house serving gold-leaf encrusted turkey advertised in the city broadsheets the other tenday.)," the Edwins chorused as they flanked the Bhaalspawn on both sides.
"The gods help me, screw your non-intervention policy and all," the Bhaalspawn cried to the heavens, plugging at the ears and fleeing, followed by the pair of synchronously griping Edwins.
The wizard and the thief smugly clinked their tankards to toast their success and Imoen took a long sip. "Guess everything worked out great after all, huh?" she said.
Edwin swirled his tin mug as it were a crystal goblet in his hand. "As it all should. (And since I can now delegate my tasks to my simulacra, I have more time to expend in studying this third Nether Scroll that I found in the subsequent forgotten crypt after where we acquired the second one.)"
He whipped out another crumbly scroll and with haste unfurled the parchment and recited the writings therein, whereupon Imoen glanced at Edwin in time to see wispy tendrils of candy-sparkly magic puffing up and engulfing the Red Wizard.
"And not even a whole day done," Imoen muttered resignedly, taking another swig.
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A Simulacrum of Scribblings:
Written for the Baldur's Gate Gift Exchange 2022 and humbly offered to Laufey who asked for Edwin, Imoen, Sarevok, and Minsc in a friendship fic with either fluff, character bonding, or Hurt/Comfort. Well, fret not for Edwin wasn't too roughed up back there, right Boo?
Yes, this fanfic's heading is a shameless derivative of the title of the American sitcom "Everybody Loves Raymond".
The Sigil Inhumane Society was responsible for monitoring all non-plantlife action. The tug-of-war was supervised to ensure that Boo is under zero risk of danger at all times. No real Edwins were harmed in the making of this fic. Maybe just slightly traumatized. Yikes.
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