Realms

by Jeffrey Vasquez

A simple mistake in heaven, and three rather important young people are ripped from their proper places in time and space, to end up… Well, God knows, but he isn't saying! Adventure Ah! Megamisama Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon Ranma crossover.

11. Chapter 9

**************

Disclaimer:

All characters and settings are used here without permission.

"Aah! Megami-sama" (or "Oh My Goddess!") was created by Fujishima

Kosuke, and is licensed to Kodansha and AnimEigo.

"Ranma 1/2" was created by Takahashi Rumiko, and is licensed to

Shogakukan Inc., Kitty, Fuji TV, and Viz Communications Inc.

"Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon" (or "Sailor Moon") was created by Takeuchi Naoko, and is licensed to Koudansha, TV Asahi, Toei Douga, and DIC Entertainment, L.P.

"Forgotten Realms" was created by TSR. Inc. and is owned by Wizards of the Coast.

All original characters belong to me. Please drop me a line if you want to use them.

Author's Notes:

Thanks for sticking with me.

Discrepancies in the chronology: For those that care, I was poking around a good site (.com/portal/) a while ago and discovered some rather interesting tidbits that are skewing my chronology. The first is that the Silvermarches weren't declared an official nation until 1371 DR, while the novels The Thousand Orcs, and The Lone Drow, preceded this event by three years. For the intents and purposes of this story, the year will be 1369 DR, The Year of the Gauntlet, in order to correspond with the novels: The Two Swords and Silverfall: Stories of the Seven Sisters.

Current timeline for this chapter is the end of Mirtul (May)/beginning of Kythorn (June). I hope this gives everyone a solid understanding of where we're at, and please consider any anomalies strictly AU from the cannon Forgotten Realms universe from here on out; especially any and all 4th Edition stuff.

Enjoy!

**************

Realms

Chapter Nine

**************

Lantan

"Are you ready Bell?"

Keiichi tensed at the sound of Urd's quiet voice. It wasn't that she was unwelcome, but the intrusion only hammered home the knowledge that this was another separation. He calmly stroked his love's hair as she clutched at him possessively.

"No, Sister. I am not."

Keiichi wasn't certain what it was about Toril, but he'd seen a new assertiveness in Belldandy's character that reminded him of their first meeting. Perhaps it was the primitiveness of the society they were in, or the more aggressive sensibilities of the world around them; whichever it was, Keiichi couldn't help but enjoy her possessiveness.

"I'll try and stall for another thirty minutes.…" He could hear the melancholy in Urd's voice and sighed. Belldandy mirrored his reaction perfectly.

"I'll be out shortly, Urd. Please tell everyone to ready themselves."

"Are you sure?"

Keiichi suppressed a snort of surprise when Belldandy rolled her eyes and glared at the tent flap across from them. It was so out of character for her that he could hardly believe his eyes. There was a nervous pause as the goddess of the present refused to answer.

"If you're sure, then…."

Bell refused to acknowledge anything else in favor of toying with the buttons of Keiichi's rather practical shirt. It didn't take long for Urd to get the hint, and Morisato tracked her progress from the tent until he was certain that she was gone. When the coast was clear, he gently lifted Bell's chin with a finger and lost himself for a time in her majestic eyes. The love and longing there were more obvious then it had ever been, and it took all of his will power not to kiss her. After a short battle he cursed himself for stupid and tossed his will out the window, drinking deeply from her lips in the most passionate kiss he could muster. It left a fire burning his belly and a pleasant tingly feeling in his fingertips. He was happy to note that Bell was more than a little breathless herself.

"Since I'm not going to get another chance at this for a long while," He smiled nervously and knelt before his goddess on one knee, pulling the ring that he and Duncan had spent the last week crafting from his pocket. "…I thought I might as well go for broke."

Belldandy's hand covered her mouth and tears immediately sprang to her eyes.

"I don't know how the gods go about proposing marriage to the ones they love, so I'll just stick to what I know." He coughed and tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "Bell-chan, will you be my wife?"

His answer was an arm full of weeping goddess, raining kisses all over his face and neck. In between each one, she would whisper an enthusiastic "Yes!" before continuing her sweet, sweet, assault. Things might have progressed much further, had it not been for the sudden fire beneath Keiichi's knee. He yelped and jumped up, bringing Belldandy with him, in time to see a message burning itself into the carpet at his feet. He gulped and took a deep breath, already knowing without reservation just who the message was from.

Memo:

To: He who would wed my precious daughter.

CC: Lord Ao, Interested Parties

Subject: Interview of Personal Worthiness

Mister Keiichi Morisato. It has come to Our attention that it is your desire to marry Our Daughter Belldandy, Norn of the Present, Goddess First Class, Unlimited License. Please make yourself available for an Interview of Personal Worthiness, at Cynosure on the day of Shieldmeet, in the Year of Wild Magic, 1372 by the Dale reckoning. Said interview is to be conducted by Myself, The Almighty along with His Majesty, Lord Ao, The Unknowable, and the Divine Auditor, Kihon'i of the Seven Veils.

Please be prompt and dress accordingly.

Best wishes and all Our love to you,

Me, Myself, and I Am

Keiichi stared at the message burned into the rich weavings of the carpet and tried to keep the bile from rising in his throat. Two months. He had to find his way to wherever this Cynosure place was in less than two months for an interview with Belldandy's Father. He looked at Belldandy and smiled weakly at her beaming face. In light of that brilliance, he felt the fears driven back into the shadowy recesses of his soul. He knew that they would come back full force later, but for the moment he allowed himself the pleasure of her happiness. She allowed him to place the ring on her trembling finger, and he exulted at the way that her eyes were riveted to the ring. As far as he was concerned it was time well spent, even if it was a little too plain for someone as beautiful and special as his Belldandy.

He sighed again as the tent rattled, and winced as Skuld pushed her way through the tent flap dragging her older sister along behind her. Both sisters squee'd in shock and delight at the sight of Belldandy's ring, and soon enough Keiichi found his face pressed firmly between Urd's heavenly cleavage as she bounced up and down in celebration. He closed his eyes the best he could and tried to imagine that he was pillowed against Bell instead. The goofy grin on his face immediately tipped off Skuld's pervert radar, earning him a wicked kick to the shins followed up by a meaty whack to the noggin with her war hammer. As the darkness claimed him, he was happy, at the very least, to have had the opportunity to say a proper goodbye this time around.

**************

Silverymoon

Usagi dreamt. They weren't the usual dreams a sixteen year old girl was wont to have, nor were they the strange unsettling dreams she'd suffered since leaving Longsaddle. They were a melding of memories, both hers and those that belonged to others. The images and experiences sent her rocketing across time and space, breaking her apart and reshaping her. She relived her birth and the entirety of her life during the Silver Millennium. She felt the terror of Beryl's attack and the overwhelming grief of Endymion's death. She felt the magic of the Ginzuisho take hold of her soul and send it hurtling forward through time and space, until the abstract of conception pounded her spiritual senses.

She endured the discomfort and pain of her rebirth to Ikuko Tsukino and found herself weeping with joy at the happiness her new parents felt at her birth. She danced through her childhood, laughing and crying at herself as she grew. She winced at the pangs of jealousy she felt for Shingo as he stole the spotlight from her, and was ashamed for all the pettiness she'd forced on her friends.

That shame grew as she watched her tenure as Sailor Moon.

How many times had her stupidity endangered the lives of her friends and the lives of every sentient on Earth? How many times had her friends died for her? The weakness and selfishness of the young girl she had been turned her stomach. How much danger could they have avoided if she had been just a little more serious? How much personal suffering could she have sidestepped if she had stopped to take a good look at the big picture? Sure there were moments where she had shined, but that was more Serenity bleeding through than Usagi standing forth.

She would have wallowed in her self imposed humiliation had not the other memories pressed for her attention. They were alien and overwhelming. She felt herself born of conflict, and through her the magic of life sprang forth. She felt herself blessing the righteous and the selfless, alongside the profane and infamous. All that mattered to her was that the web of life continued to dance and grow. That was her end all, to promote the growth of the Weave. And then Karsus came…beloved son of magic that he was. He had been her pride, and she raised him higher than any other. Yet, in his hubris, he repaid her by trying to usurp her throne.

The pain of her death and subsequent rebirth was exquisite, boarding on ecstasy.

Her second incarnation was harder and more concerned with the preservation of her precious Weave than with the individual souls that professed her faith. That wasn't to say that she didn't love those that worshipped her. Elminster had risen during that time, and he redeemed what Karsus had betrayed. No, her love was carefully reserved for those truly worthy of it – those that loved the Art and the Weave as much as she. This, in and of itself, was what saved the whole of Toril when the Time of Troubles killed her second incarnation. If it had not been for those select few that she truly loved and cherished, she was certain the Weave would have torn the world asunder.

She rose again as the third, assuming the mantle as the new Mother of Magic, and all had been progressing well. The world had finally begun to heal, and magic was once again thriving. Shar had pulled a fast one with the Shadow Weave, and that had royally pissed her off to no end, but she was dealing with it. She was finding comfort with Azuth, but not the completion that she had always yearned for.

Then Ranma arrived, breathing life and excitement into everything. He had done something that no other petitioner had ever dared – he joined himself directly to the Weave. It wasn't the petty, analytical, memorization of spells – nor was it the self-possessed demands that some of her clergy had started to make in their prayers. With Ranma, it was a fundamental fusion that went beyond anything that she had ever dreamed. He became a true conduit for magic, without taking anything from it at all – he gave back everything that he took.

For that brief time they had been joined, he had given her something back; something that many of her followers had offered, but only a select few had ever successfully achieved. He had made good on the professions of love that so many of her followers proclaimed. Deep down, she had seen that he loved life and everything about it, good and bad – regardless of how he might grumble and complain.

Usagi's mind danced across the memories she'd gained of Ranma's life, embracing his moments of success and elation, and shying away from the multitude of pain he'd been forced to endure. He was nothing short of amazing. True, others had suffered more, but none had remained as "clean" as the young martial artist. She couldn't help but feel proud of his accomplishments, and be endeared to his numerous rough edges. He was truly a diamond in the rough – one that she couldn't help but love. That thought shocked and gave her pause. Didn't she love another?

Yes. The Prince of Earth. Endymion. Mamoru. Tuxedo Mask.

She loved him, as she loved so many others. Elminster Aumar. Khelben of the Blackstaff. Halaster the Mad. Azuth. Braen Starheart. The names and faces of many that had loved her, and yet loved her still, flashed before her mind's eye and warmed her heart. What was one more? Was true love not infinite?

Usagi, who was also Mystra, smiled at the epiphany. Her love transcended time and space, and was meant to be shared by many. But Ranma, who had touched her in ways that no other ever could, rose above them all. She would love him first and honor him above all the rest. Even now, she could feel him, split and confused though his soul was. His indomitable will was like a beacon in the darkness, and she found it impossible not to reach out to comfort him in his hour of need.

She stretched her spirit out to the three soul fragments and blanketed them with her love and affection. She wasn't expecting them to respond, much less in the way that they did. She screamed rapturously, embracing the sudden feedback in an attempt to prolong the experience for as long as possible. Had she known the consequences of this act, she wouldn't have cared. All that mattered was the sudden sense of need and belonging that she was experiencing.

**************

The Universal Law of Opposition is an immutable truth. It is a spiritual building block of Creation that all life, godly or mundane, must acknowledge. The physical embodiment of this Law in many realities is a being often named Murphy, or some obvious derivative there of.

The Universal Law of Opposition could be considered by many to be a keystone of reality; for without it, nothing could ever grow and progress. Stagnation would be the order of the day, and life would hold no purpose.

It is theorized, by scholars and theologians alike, the more opposition suffered in one's life will indelibly make the individual more powerful and godly. Some have been known to comment that we need opposition in our lives in order to overcome our own faults, in order to lift ourselves out of our natural imperfections. Others maintain that our opposition is karmic – the more we have in our lives is a direct result of the poor choices we've made in the past. Indelibly, we reap what we have sown.

There is truth in all of these ideals. Unfortunately, there is no greater will directing the Universal Law of Opposition…. There is no great puppet master pulling the strings or organizing our woes. The Law simply is, and it will be until Eternity has long since come and gone.

Ranma Saotome, all three of his current incarnations in Faerun, knew the Universal Law of Opposition intimately. If asked, the more cognizant, human, perception would say that he was a toy of the gods – as evidenced by all the crap Ranma was experiencing in their collective life. What the three avatars didn't know, and wouldn't come to discover for a very long time, was that Genma Saotome was a much greater bastard than they had originally thought.

Before Ranma was born, Genma trained beneath a human avatar of Perversion – a being named Happosai. During those hellish nine years that he and Soun had been enslaved to the vile beast, many priestesses, nuns, monks, husbands, and fathers took it upon themselves to curse the practitioners of the Musabetsu Kakuto Ryu for their sins and crimes against society. Happosai, being the intelligent and cunning letch that he was, found a way to shift the karmic injustice of his actions to his students long before he met up with Soun and Genma. Thus he saved himself quite a bit of grief, and rarely had to deal with the consequences of his dealings with the rest of the world. The powers of Heaven and Hell could do very little about this, beyond taking pot shots at the wrinkled old pervert from time to time when the opportunity rose. Patience was the name of the game for Justice and it knew that Happosai, like all mortals, would some day screw up and forget to renew his spell. When that happened, the avatar of Perversion would reap the hurricane of his depredations. Until then however, the students of the Masubetsu Kakuto Ryu would suffer for their master's indiscretions. Well, those that weren't smart enough to follow in Happosai's footsteps would suffer.

Soun Tendo had long ago shown his intelligence when he followed Genma Saotome into the wilds of Japan to learn martial arts. Even though he wasn't all that bright he did do something right in marrying a beautiful and intelligent woman. Still, soon after finding peace with his beloved wife, the weight of his karma came back to haunt him with a vengeance, stealing what little happiness he had come to build for himself. It broke him and stole from him the most noble and honorable parts of his soul.

But Genma…Genma was a very cunning individual. No one would accuse the pudgy man of being intelligent, but no one could dispute that he was a crafty S.O.B. He had learned early on to listen to and watch Happosai carefully. He learned the man's patterns and after training beneath the letch for over two years, Genma finally learned the secret to a care free lifestyle. It took quite a bit of planning and luck, but one night after getting his master smashed, Genma successfully stole the secrets of Karmic Freedom from Happosai's treasures.

The surprisingly simple spell was cast – albeit incorrectly.

The spell required more than one recipient in order to fulfill the requirements of Universal Law: the caster, the recipient, and an anchor to hold the curse in place. Soun and Genma were each other's anchors, but when Genma cast the spell there was no one available, beyond his sleeping training partner, to secure the magic. Since Soun was already burdened with Happosai's messes, and since Genma was a complete moron when it came to magic, the fool's first-born was named as the Karmic Sacrifice and, lacking any subsequent children as joint heirs of Karmic Justice, Ranma was shouldered the whole burden of the ritual.

One being wasn't meant to withstand the pressures of so much negative magic, therein Ranma tended to "bleed off" excess energy into the world around him from time to time. So, due to proximity, Genma wasn't able to escape his karma completely and others tended to suffer strange and unusual circumstances simply by having Ranma around.

From a certain perspective, this curse was Ranma's greatest blessing in disguise. Nietzsche had the right of it when he said: "That which does not kill us, makes us stronger." Ranma's father pressed his son into the Refiner's Fire, burning away the physical dross until nothing was left. Ranma wasn't perfect, but he was a pure soul. That in and of itself counted for a great deal in Heaven.

When he Ascended to the service of Ao all Karmic ties were severed, and Ranma was given a clean slate. It didn't really help his current situation here in Faerun all that much, but an invisible mountain was lifted from his shoulders all the same. Genma, and by association Soun Tendo, were in for a Karmic backlash of biblical proportions. Sadly, only two of his incarnations had the emotional ability to enjoy their new freedom.

Ranma-chan and Neko-Ranma were both effervescent by nature, but now their dispositions were positively sunny – much to the annoyance and fatigue of those involved with them. Ranma-kun, on the other hand, had become more stoic and focused since Shar had split him from his female half. In the two weeks since his battle with the Orcs and the subsequent burial of Maric, Ranma-kun had become a force of nature in keeping his promise to the dead elf. He was true to his word, tirelessly protecting and providing for Sefaril and her sister, and by extension the rest of the survivors of the attack, as if they were members of his own family. In the process of doing so, he inadvertently built a town around their needs.

Since none of the caravan seemed particularly ready to leave the safety of his company, a small community organized themselves with Ranma-kun as their hub. Due to the inhospitality of the geography, as well as the number of wounded that still needed time to mend, food and shelter became the first priorities to address. Winter was months away yet, but it would take the least wounded patient nine weeks to heal up enough to travel. By then it would be too late in the season to even think of traveling; this far north, winter came fast and the mountain passes would close even faster. Ranma-kun was looking into Chi-Healing but, even if he could successfully devise the techniques necessary to shorten their convalescence, the first heavy snows would still be upon them long before any of the more serious injuries were even healed halfway.

And so Ranma, not one to do things by half, had taken it upon himself to make sure that everyone was as comfortable and cared for in the only way that he knew how. The by product of his tireless work was a permanent settlement that the survivors had taken to calling Providence.

Food was easily hunted and gathered by the healthier members of the community. Late spring fruits and early summer vegetables weren't hard to find, and a number of wild wheat fields would be ready to harvest by midsummer. Hunting and fishing were plentiful, and between a number of the survivors and Ethalliandra's elven upbringing, there was no fear of going hungry when the snow started falling.

Ranma, in a display of insight and intelligence, even introduced the concept of a greenhouse in order to take advantage of year round farming. The idea was new and excited a great many people. The fact that they had Sefaril's magic to help them achieve their goal only made the community feel more industrious.

With the community fed, Ranma turned his attention to the next order of business – housing. It started off with a small shelter hut for Sefaril and the wounded at the base of Meric's tree. He overheard the pregnant woman openly worrying about her unborn child and silently wishing for her own place to stay with her sister Aelin, which pushed him to create another sturdy building in the shadow of the tree. An apprentice architect among the survivors, who had been on his way to Cormyr with his now deceased master, saw the efforts and pulled himself from his sick bed in his excitement.

After much discussion, young Ivulaire Bornesun convinced Ranma and the rest of the community's fledgling council to build in the branches of Meric's tree, both in honor of Meric and for the continued safety of the people. Sefaril, having visited some of the abandoned elven communities, and Ethalliandra, having lived in a tree community, thought the idea was a fitting tribute to Maric. The fallen elf had openly mourned the empty tree homes of his people, and wished more than anything that those communities could thrive again.

Thus it began.

The first building finished was a communal house that would later become an inn once the other homes were finished. Ranma raised five more trees around the hill, as monuments to people that had died from their wounds, and these trees were connected to Meric's by a series of magically shaped bridges made of joined branches. Elevators were used instead of stairs, and Sefaril, with the aid of her sister, warded the trees and homes against natural and magical fire in the event that an intelligent enemy tried to burn them from their homes.

The work was moving at an insanely rapid pace, mainly because Ranma didn't sleep any longer. He only ate one meal a day, generally with the rest of the community, and only at Sefaril's insistence. The rest of the time he busied himself working on the houses and his Art. It was his way of dealing with the emptiness he felt and the surreal oddity of his new status. Being divine, even as limited as he currently was, wrecked havoc on the young god's nerves. Thoughts were open to him and his senses had become so sharp that there were times he wanted nothing more than to lock himself in stone and never come back out. Amaterasu's retreat into the caves was something that Ranma could readily empathize with. Sadly, he had no one to bring him gifts or throw him a party to get his mind off the changes. So, he threw himself into his work and into his Art. Unfortunately, he couldn't escape everyone, even when he tried.

Ked and Ethalliandra made it a point to learn his schedule, and once they knew when he practiced they joined him. At first he did his best to ignore them; but over time he became more and more agitated with the glaring holes and poor habits he saw them building into their styles.

On the morning of their eighteenth day in Providence, Ranma decided to break them of their poor habits and set them on the right path. The beating was swift and brutal, but since then they had started improving by leaps and bounds under his watchful eye. After thinking on what had happened, he wasn't sure whether to be upset or impressed at their manipulations in getting him to take them on as students.

In the end it didn't really matter all that much. He made the choice to teach them and thus he was honor bound to see it through. He was sure that the couple was regretting the decision to learn from him though. Ranma wasn't his father, but he sure as hell wasn't gentle either. They were seeing rapid results in their skills, so there was no room for complaint – especially when Ranma rewarded such with even more grueling sessions. And even though he wouldn't come right out and say it, both could tell how proud he was of their achievements and those rare smiles he gave them made them work all that much harder for him. Ethalliandra was almost ready to advance to the aerial school. Ked would go a different route, probably a ground-based style Ranma-kun was building patterned off what little he knew of the Tendo School.

Having students was weird, but at the same time it helped him reconcile the need for worshippers. If he considered them to be disciples, rather than petitioners, it made it easier for him to stomach their whispered prayers. He could hear Ked and Ethalliandra calling on his name every night, and due to an impromptu visit from Sefaril's sister to their modest home, young Aelin had joined them in their worship.

She'd only been at it for three days now, but he could tell that her heart wasn't going to be dissuaded no matter how much pain he forced her to endure. What had begun as hero-worship, had grown into something completely different. Ranma-kun would find out tomorrow if she were truly serious about being his disciple. He'd make her his student if she had the potential. And if she didn't…well, he'd cross that bridge when he got there. Pretty soon he was going to have to build a proper dojo in order to keep their training up during the winter months. He wasn't going to let them slack off just because it was cold outside. But that project was going to have to wait a bit. At the moment he had other concerns weighing on his mind.

As the sun dipped beneath the horizon, Ranma stood from the shingles of Sefaril's roof and looked to the southeast. Somewhere, out there beyond the horizon, was his other half. He did not know what she was doing, or if she even cared that they had been separated. He often wondered if she thought of him as much as he thought of her. Did she feel the emptiness he felt, or was she happy to be free of him? Was she looking for him even now, or had she been distracted by circumstance as he had been?

Ranma-kun looked to the shingle in his hands and sighed. In the end did it really matter? One way or another he would find her someday, and then they would be complete again. Time had little meaning in that equation; it was an inevitability. And once they were complete, Ranma would do everything in his power to make sure that Shar never did anything like this to anyone…ever again.

A sudden tsunami of love and affection washed over him from somewhere to the northwest, forcing him to his knees. The feeling was so raw and pure that he couldn't stop the tears from forming in his eyes. He knew who the author of the emotion was, at least partially. Mystra had left her mark on Ranma as much as he had left his on her, and the memory of their encounter was never far from his mind. Yet, this outpouring of love had something underscoring it…something that had touched him hesitantly and briefly in the not so distant past. It was a pure soul, as lost and heavy with duty as his own, that yearned to be loved and cherished. After knowing a lifetime of neglect, how could he not respond in kind?

Already he could feel his other half responding and, rather than being left out, he added his own desires to the returning wave of love and need. The emotions clashed for an instant, briefly fighting for supremacy, before merging to become one unified whole. Ranma-kun shuddered with pleasure as the warmth anchored him. It wasn't the joining he so desperately needed, but it was more of himself than he'd had a moment ago. He looked towards Silverymoon and smiled. It would take him weeks to sort through the knowledge buried in those emotions, let alone understand just who and what Serenity Silvermaid was to him; for the moment he just relished the sweetness of the love and affection he was feeling. It made his circumstances just a little brighter, and gave him a little more hope that his suffering wouldn't last. There was a light at the end of this tunnel, and for the time being it was staying in Silverymoon.

**************

Elminster guardedly walked down the streets of Ordulin with an eye open for water traps. In the two weeks he and his two companions had been together, watching for water had become second nature. It didn't matter whether it was hot or cold; invariably, it would find him, and his companions, at the most inopportune moments. Like it had on the morning after they finally made the Moonsea Road while pretending to be a lost little girl and her pet tressym, in order to snag a free ride from a Dalesman and his boys on their way to market – stupid hot tea.

And then there was the time last week in Essembra, when El had been trying to retain some dignity before Emri Jhunsten, one of his former apprentices. He'd needed to obtain the rare spell components necessary to renew the tracking spell on Ranma, but all he'd gotten was a face full of manly giggles and a ball of catnip for his troubles. The bastard just had to have a water mephit for a familiar, didn't he? Young Emri was of course pondering the perils of mocking an archmage, while wearing the form of a female hyena cub. Sadly, Jhunsten didn't have all of the components needed for the spell, but he did have quite a few odds and ends that made life a little easier on Elminster's group. The old mage paid a fair price for the items he took, but left Emri trapped as a hyena for the rest of the month as a lesson not to mock the troubles of others.

Another incident had happened just this morning when El had been trying to move through a seedy part of Ordulin. It was the type of neighborhood that didn't appreciate weakness, but it was the quickest way to the local guild house. They'd made it well over two-thirds the way through, only to have some fool woman toss her dirty wash water out the window as El was passing a pack of toughs. The beat down was very cathartic and the archmage turned magical catgirl could only grin smugly at the fresh memory of poetic justice being served. Those toughs wouldn't be assaulting or trying to enslave young exotic girls any more – that was for certain. Elminster just wished that he hadn't been forced to use that silly ribbon attack. If Alassra ever got wind of that…El shuddered, quickly warded him…herself against evil, and offered a fervent prayer to his Lady of Mysteries that such a thing would never, ever, happen.

Valor seemed less inclined to fall prey to these attacks, mostly because she had wonderful reflexes and a pair of wings. That wasn't to say she hadn't had her fair share of embarrassments though. Thankfully, there weren't too many people to frighten with the sight of a Drow along their paths. Still, she seemed content enough with her other half, considering the amount of time she spent lazing on Elminster's shoulder, sunning herself as they walked.

Sadly Valor wasn't the one that really concerned Elminster. He'd seen enough soul fragmentation during his travels through the vast reaches of the multiverse to know what the other little catgirl really was. More than that, all his auguries and divinations had pointed to the fact that the third member of their little adventuring party was an integral part of Ranma's psyche. She was also evidently the reason why all of his tracking spells seemed skewed. It was hard to pinpoint a soul that had been split, and even harder to track one when you had a piece of that soul standing right next to you. This, in and of itself, was frustrating but not insurmountable.

The thing that really bothered the Chosen of Mystra, was the fact that a soul fragment wasn't going to be enough to fulfill the terms of his contract with the goddess. This was a major problem since there was really no telling how many parts he was going to be chasing down. And if he couldn't find all of the lad's parts to teach, how was he supposed to mentor Ranma Saotome "…in the intricacies of life, love, magic, and various sundries…" (which El took to be a catch all for everything else that Kinhon'i hadn't had the time to properly address) as the goddess had demanded?

He needed a whole soul, or at the very least the majority of one to work with. This meant that he was going to have to not only hunt down the other fragments, but also find a way to bind them again if possible. Mother of Mysteries! Based on the files Kinhon'i had given him, just thinking of all the trouble that multiple soul fragments of Ranma Saotome could get into made his head throb! He wasn't getting any younger, and contrary to the common myths he wasn't truly immortal. The task of mentoring Ranma Saotome was shaping up to be the quest of a lifetime and El knew that something so long term was going to be filled with massive problems. As if training up a godling wasn't problematic enough. That meant finding the necessary components for the tracking spell, or buying the appropriate scroll from a spellmonger. He could no doubt create the scroll himself, but that would still require the necessary components.

The archmage sighed and glanced at the hyperactive catgirl as he neared the Magic Quarter of Ordulin's markets. He'd taken to tying a bit of magically expanding rope to a small harness that wrapped around the inquisitive little being's torso. He was careful not to make it look like something that would be mistaken for a slave collar, but it was a leash all the same. Many a harried mother had looked at the harness longingly when he passed them, as their children ran them ragged throughout the more mundane sections of the markets they had visited. He supposed that he could have jury-rigged one of the Thayan slave bonds to keep the soul fragment in line, but the last thing he wanted was to be bound to Ranma Saotome on such an intimate level.

Elminster continued to ponder his predicament and plan how he was going to fulfill his obligations to the goddess as he passed beneath the warded arch of Ordulin's magical bazaar. The strange and wondrous sights didn't faze him as much as they had in years past. After having attended many a Magefair, the city's offerings were quaint at best. Still, there was something to be said about the homely feeling of the bazaar – what with the smells of potion ingredients and the thrumming hum of the various enchantments. It was Mystra's dream made reality; a place where magic and knowledge flowed – a place where you couldn't help but absorb something new just by brushing elbows with witches and sages alike. It made Elminster's heart swell, and lifted the weight of his troubles a bit just to be there…among his people.

Surprisingly, to the Old Mage at least, the open market was packed with more clientele than El had remembered from his previous visits. The symbols of Mystra and Azuth were prevalent everywhere, prominently displayed more often than not, for all to see. The totem that he had begun associating with Ranma was out in force as well, and just the sight of it seemed to excite the little catgirl at the end of El's magic tether to no end. It was all he could do just to keep her in line as they made their way past a potion vendor's table. Had it not been for a few timely distractions from the various shop keepers, the archmage was certain that the felinoid would have enthusiastically pounced on more than one of Ranma's followers in order to shower them with feline affection.

As it was, she had brushed up to more than one of the godling's disciples in the press of bodies and was rewarded with a scratch behind the ears, and in one case a rather large river trout, for her display of warmth.

El silently wondered if the soul fragment had the ability to dole out blessings to those that won her favor.

Half way through the press El wondered what it would take to gain a little bit of Ranma's favor. An instant later a rather aggravated water elemental doused a fire imp that had tried to steal a free meal of fish that were swimming within the elemental's body. The outcome was never in doubt – the elemental overshot, dousing Elminster in a cool deluge of saltwater. The transformation, like so many times before, began with an icy tingle that swept through El's body and ended with a rapid change in perspective – one moment he stood a head above most in the crowd, and the next he was looking at belt buckles and codpieces. It was so damn annoying.

"So much for a bit of favor." The neo-catgirl groused as she flicked a bit of water from her soggy bangs.

El drug her hissing, and very soaked, companions off of the cowering forms of the owners of the elemental and the fire imp and away from that part of the market altogether. It wasn't that she didn't think the poor fools didn't deserve a little threatening, but there were other things to accomplish today and they weren't getting done. Her first order of business would be to get some hot water.

Not for the first time since being cursed, the thought occurred to her that she needed to come up with some cantrips that would dry her fur and clothes. A spell or two that repelled water, or pulled and heated water from the air wouldn't be remiss either. The sad part about this desire was that her magic was very different in this form. While it was very powerful, the magic tended to be highly focused and unbending. It was mainly offensive in nature, lending itself more to destruction than to anything else. El thought it terribly inelegant; but magic was magic in her estimation, and all magic flowed from the same place. He wasn't going to bad mouth his one true love, the goddess Mystra, for a little hardship. He'd suffered worse in his service to her, and since Ranma had somehow become associated with his Lady's pantheon, El was going to do his best not to grumble and complain…at least not too much. Contrary to popular belief and her current form, El was only human after all.

"Beloved Mystra, Lady mine, preserve and protect thy servant against the temptations of the day." Elminster mumbled as she searched for a soup vendor or an open air café.

It took him quite some time to make it through the press of bodies and, by the time he finally found the entrance to an appropriately named tavern called Mystra's Bosom, El had a deep and abiding sympathy for Halflings everywhere. The archmage turned magical catgirl sighed deeply and offered up a prayer of gratitude when they finally made it to a private booth towards the back of the tavern. The serving maid was positively taken with both El and Ranma's soul fragment, and immediately brought out two bowls of sweet cream before taking El's quiet order for an excessive amount of food and a kettle of hot water. The barmaid didn't bat an eye at the request, but she did grin as Ranma's soul fragment began to purr and butted her head against the young woman's stomach. This earned her a liberal scratch between the ears that made the soul fragment's purr kick up a notch. The serving girl giggled and switched her attentions to the catgirl's chin, which wasn't nearly as pleasant but still earned the waitress a raspy lick to the back of the hand.

"Pleasure hound." El chastised with a grin. Valor snorted with amusement and twitched her wings atop Elminsters head. "Let the lass be so that she can fill your belly sooner rather than later."

If there was one thing that El had learned in the last three weeks of traveling with this embodiment of Ranma, it was that the catgirl loved two things more than anything else: liberal amounts of affection and gross quantities of food. It wasn't very endearing to El's gold purse when the fragment couldn't hunt for food, but it was difficult to say no to her wide eyed innocence. Luckily, this trait worked in their favor more than her stomach worked against her. She was just too cute to deny when she begged for food from vendors and farmers alike. El watched with amusement as the soul fragment's eyes widened at the mention of food. She butted the barmaid's hip with her head to urge her on before she turned her attention to the bowl of cream. The cute barmaid laughed gaily and gave the catgirl one last scratch before jogging off to the kitchen.

El gave a heavy sigh and rolled her neck to work out a kink that had been building there for the last tenday as she pulled a large tome covered in a copper toned leather, from seemingly nowhere. This seemed to be one of the more clever skills associated with the magical transformation – an extra-dimensional storage space that seemed to have no real weight limit. So long as an item was thinner than her body and was something that she could lift without trouble, it could be stored away and accessed with great ease. El hadn't really tested the limits of the ability yet, but she had been able to store everyone's supplies easily enough. Once she was certain that her debt to Kinhon'i was fulfilled, or at the very least well under way, she was going to find a way to replicate the skill.

Neat abilities aside, El had other pressing thoughts that needed her full attention; namely reviewing the file in her hands. She began rereading Ranma's file and occasionally tugged an overly curious catgirl back to the booth before she could get up to any mischief. The young serving maid finally arrived with the food, which was a nice distraction for the trio of odd felines sitting in the booth. El wasted no time in changing back to his natural form, which caused the poor barmaid to gasp and drew momentary attention from many of the tavern's patrons. He waved at them gaily before tucking into his meal. As practitioners of the Art, the feat of changing one's form wasn't all that impressive, but the speed and manner in which Ranma's soul fragment was packing away the food held their collective gaze much longer.

Considering that her hands seemed to be moving at a Quickling's pace, and the fact that over half of the plates seemed to be markedly diminished, Elminster couldn't blame them for staring openly. El slapped her wrist lightly when the catgirl paused in her voracious attack and frowned.

"Manners, Child. We're not in the wilds any longer." His chastisement was met with a mewling pout and a self conscious glance around the room, but his point was made. He considered the more subdued child before him and came to a decision. "I think the time has long passed to give ye a proper name. Now that we are once again among civilized company, it might be best if I called you something more than Child all the time. What say you?"

The catgirl twitched her nose and stared at Elminster with her large, expressive, slate blue eyes and meowed in a tone that was hesitant, but accepting all the same. El smiled and flipped back through the book towards the first chapter.

"We will need to see about teaching ye proper speech too." The catgirl frowned and snorted derisively at his suggestion. "Don't take that tone with me, Kitten. If ye are to be a part of this world, then it is only appropriate that ye learn its speech and customs. Now then, a name…calling ye Ranma doesn't see fitting since ye are but a part of his whole. Ye've gone by Ranko in the past, how do ye like that?"

The catgirl hissed and shook her head.

"Alright then…Kitten?" Valor hopped to the table top and shook her head before moving over to a plate of roasted chicken. "Ye have the right of it Valor…that doesn't seem to fit well, does it?"

"Perhaps we should choose something closer to her heritage?" El stroked his short beard thoughtfully for a time. "…something Rokugani that reflects her personality more?"

The soul fragment bounced in her chair excitedly for a moment at the prospect of being named. El was more than a bit amazed at the amount of information that she seemed to understand, and some nagging part of his intellect told him that she was far more intelligent than she let on.

"Akiko?" At Valor's inquisitive pawing, El translated. "It means Bright Light."

The catgirl wrinkled her nose and shook her head violently.

"Alright then, how about Yoko? No? Don't like the idea of being a good girl do you? How about Janki then?"

The little catgirl actually growled at the idea of being called an imp, which told El he'd better not joke with her too much. He still remembered the mauled dire bear she had brought back to their camp for dinner. He held up his hands to placate her and then slowly drew out his pipe.

"Sakura? Yumi? Naomi? Umeko? Ren? Takara?" El sighed and shook his head as the catgirl summarily shot down each and every one of his suggestions – some more violently than others. He finally sighed tiredly and settled on going back to the beginning. "How about Koneko?"

The catgirl meowed jubilantly and El palmed his faced. He felt Valor's overwhelming curiosity touch his mind and he couldn't help but grin at the drow-turned-tressym.

"Well, if she wants to be called Kitten then who am I to argue?"

Valor snorted and rolled her eyes before padding her way across the table. She hopped down to an empty corner of their booth next to Koneko and curled up next to the catgirl's thigh. The one good thing about having a felinoid for a companion was the inherent knowledge of where to scratch; Valor could only purr as Koneko found a particularly sensitive sweet spot to exploit. El smiled at the pair with open amusement before turning his attention back to the file.

He expected, upon mulling things over after the fact, that the event had gone entirely too smoothly; which was why it came as a complete surprise when Koneko's body suddenly went rigid with pleasure. Her scream of release was nothing less than orgasmic, and the subsequent eruption of positive energy from her body filled the common room with so much love and affection that many of the patrons passed out with smiles on their faces.

The only exceptions were a tiefling sorcerer and a lich hiding beneath a marvelous glamour. The first poor sod spontaneously combusted, while the lich screamed bloody murder and exploded in a hail of bone dust. El, had he been in his right mind at the moment, would have wondered if the fool's phylactery had survived the feedback.

Considering the amount of power flowing out of Koneko at the time…probably not.

But, those thoughts would come later. At the moment, all El could do was relish the familiar sensation of love from his goddess. It was the first sign of favor he'd had since Shadowdale, and oh…was it ever a sign. He would find himself redoubling his efforts to find and rejoin Ranma's errant soul fragments…just as soon as Mystra let him feel his legs again.

**************

Daerlun was a very interesting city. The home to over fifty two thousand people, it enjoyed a close relationship Cormyr. The people were warm and courteous, and had a way of charming people out of their money while making them feel good about parting with it. It was a trader's haven and a shoppers dream, a metropolis filled to the brim with merchants and shops that dealt in goods from all over the Realms.

As interesting as the city was, the sight of a gorgeous red headed goddess and her entourage trolling the bazaar was much more interesting to the Grey Basilisk and his gang. Word had filtered up through various channels and agents from the faithful of Shar about the scarlet haired elf-maid. The bounty being offered for her capture was astronomical, and if it could be done without harm to her the reward was more still. Perhaps that was why the Grey Basilisk noted five of his contemporaries brave enough to challenge the local Guilds, milling throughout the crowded streets.

Having watched the elf-maid for better than a week, the Grey Basilisk knew that she was a petitioner of the Mystran temple here in Daerlun. He'd yet to see her cast any spells, but he wasn't stupid enough to assume that she couldn't. After living this long as a mercenary and an adventurer, surviving all that he had, the Grey Basilisk wasn't one to take unnecessary risks. The best plans were the simple ones, which was why he'd seeded the bazaar with twenty hired men and placed his right and left hands at the elf wench's favorite food stand. The poisoned food would sedate the elf, and the hired hands would distract her companions and the competition long enough for his men to escape into the chaos with their prize.

Now it should be readily apparent to any veteran of sufficient experience that no plan ever survives the enemy intact. Thus, when chance raised its ugly head against a carefully laid plot, it should come as no surprise. Sadly, the Grey Basilisk's plan was foiled by a brash young merchant prince named Hogrhim Aporos – or rather, his thick, sausage sized fingers. They seemed to have a mind of their own, or so he protested laughingly to the fiery elf maid after his hand had grabbed her shapely bottom.

The Grey Basilisk had skulked through countless dark holes and faced innumerable nightmares in his travels, and he was proud to say that he had never once feared for his life. It was what made him a highly sought after professional. Yet in that moment, witnessing the visage of the elf maid, he knew true terror. As his bowels emptied themselves, he could only stand there dumbstruck as the wrath of Heaven and Hell fell upon the bazaar. The oppressive weight of her rage pressed down on everyone within a hundred meters of the elf maid, igniting the milling crowd's flight instincts. The stampede was nothing short of terrifying. When the maid's companions realized what had happened, their ire sent the aura of murderous intent rolling out further.

Hogrhim Aporos, while being a man of limited intellect, was wise enough to realize that his life was hanging by a thin thread. It was little surprise that he bolted into the rapidly retreating crowd just behind his retainers. Perhaps it was luck that the first eldritch bolt of lightning happened to just miss the fat man's posterior. Then again, considering the expression on the elf maid's face, the Grey Basilisk decided that she was intent on drawing out the man's suffering as long as possible. It took several uncomfortable strides to bring him to his right and left hand men, both of whom had been mere feet away from the vengeful goddess.

"We're leaving." Perhaps it was unnecessary to say, but there was something about vocalizing his intent that eased his trembling. One of the men stared at him blankly before falling over dead from fright, while the other simply curled into a small ball in the corner of the food stall and gibbered to himself incoherently.

It looked like he was going to have to find new men to replace these two. Perhaps it was for the best. Reneging on a contract wasn't good for business, and the fewer witnesses to his betrayal of the agreement, the better. Looking out over the ruined bazaar, the Grey Basilisk noted that three of the original five teams that had been after the elf maid were utterly trampled. The other two groups had fled, leaving their leaders alone in the open market to stare at one another. Never one to miss an opportunity, the Grey Basilisk proceeded towards his contemporaries. Banding together in the face of failure seemed the thing to do. After that, he could get a new pair of trousers and hopefully flee to Chult with new companions.

Losing oneself in jungles full of cannibals and other monstrosities seemed much more preferable to staying in Sembia right now.

**************

There are many universal constants. Some people of limited perspective call them "Laws" with a certain amount of emphasis on the capital "L." While these constants are rather important to the inner and outer workings of Creation, there are truthfully only a handful of "Laws", a couple of "Rules", and a smattering of "LAWS" and "RULES."

The poor schmuck that just goosed Ranma-chan was about to learn one of those "LAWS", namely: angry females of any species are deadly, and when gathered in packs said angry females are prone to vast amounts of property damage in venting that rage. Various circumstances will inevitably influence the magnitude of the destruction but, by and large, it is easier to catch a 747 falling from the sky than to escape the butchery unscathed.

The fact that Ranma-chan had been having nothing short of a perfectly blissful day when her person had been so rudely violated, meant that over three quarters of Daerlun would be in ruins within the hour – assuming that this Kuno-wannabe wasn't caught or conversely made a miraculous escape from the city before then. Not even the idyllic memory of warm love that she had felt this morning during her workout would save Hogrhim Aporos from her righteous fury.

The fact that she and her acolytes were driving him through the homes and businesses of known supporters of Shar – well, that was just icing on the cake now wasn't it? She watched with feral glee as yet another hidden temple was blown apart by a carefully placed, if rather large, fireball.

"Easy, Wynn." Ranma-chan chided with a bright grin. The tone and weight of her voice was happy and patient, and she could have easily been mimicking her mortal mother's cooking lessons rather than directing the censure of a degenerate pervert. "We don't want to roast him just yet, dear. The Forms must be observed after all. Certain punishments are meant to linger. Otherwise the poor idiot will simply forget what he did wrong."

"Yes, Lady Ranma."

"Nice power though." Ranma-chan patted the young woman on the arm and widened her smile. "Did you see the look on the bastard's face?"

All the women in Ranma-chan's entourage giggled and laughed at the memory of the merchant prince's terror. Sure the day might have had a dark little cloud marring it, but the female avatar of Ranma Weavebender was bound and determined to enjoy the rest of it as much as she could. And thus, the LAW of Feminine Rage continued to play out as Hogrhim Aporos ducked down yet another alley – this one leading to Rauthauvyr's Road.

"Looks like he's going to try for a ship in Saerloon." Phaele rolled her neck and shook purple spell smoke from her fingertips. The burly retainers that she branded with spell darts were now following their master as she intended.

"Well, with all the paths to Urmlaspyr blocked, that is really the only other major port nearby." Rhane, Wynn's older sister, said offhandedly.

"Long road?" Ranma-chan asked hopefully.

"Very." Rhane's smirk was downright devilish.

"Any of our shadowy friends live along the way?" There was no hiding the eagerness in Wynn's voice as she literally bounced in place.

"Plenty." Phaele's coy smile made Ranma laugh joyously. The sound echoed off the crumbling walls around them and bounced eerily through the heavy smoke.

Somewhere not too far ahead, Hogrhim Aporos heard the laughter and screamed in terror as he tore through yet another alley. His hopes of escaping the Furies behind him were in vain, he knew that; but, his fear and sense of self preservation wouldn't let him stop long enough to accept his fate.

Poor fool. In the terror filled days ahead, he would not only earn the enmity of one goddess, but two. Sadly, Ranma-chan was much more forgiving than Shar.

**************

A full tenday passed in a flash of worry and hurried travel from Lantan's shores. Keiichi had bought a ship named "Salvatore's Strumpet", and after two sleepless nights, he'd jury rigged Toril's first outboard motor. The fact that it was just as big as Kazuki-chan and could pull off some sixty knots into the wind amazed his followers and garnered a few more converts for his trip from the Isles of Invention.

They'd run afoul two groups of pirates, who'd taken one look at Kazuki-chan standing at the prow and altered their course. A sea monster of that resembled a mutant killer whale had followed them for quite some time, infatuated with the noise of the outboard, but eventually lost all interest when it couldn't keep up the grueling pace. The stop at Velen was brief, both for the need to replenish supplies and the need to have solid ground under one's feet again. Yet, all too soon for most of the crew, Keiichi pressed them back onto the ship. According to Maerdith, Candlekeep held a vast store of knowledge and if there was one place that Keiichi was likely to find clues on how to get to Cynnosure, it would be there.

So, with time pressing him even more, he made more adjustments to the ship's motor and jury-rigged a sonar station to navigate tricky shoals and reefs. This was no small miracle, since it cut the weeks long journey from Velen to Baldur's Gate down to a day and a half. This in turn birthed a new sect amongst the followers of the Father of Necessity, those who felt the Need…the Need for Speed. Most of them were young gnomes, but there was a pair of elderly women, who had become obsessed with the feeling of the wind flowing through their white hair.

Thus, Keiichi and his faithful followers arrived in Baldur's Gate early in the morning well before dawn on the tenth day, much sooner than even they had originally anticipated. Sister Maerdith jumped from the ship the moment they docked and vowed on her god's holy name never to travel by water again; at least never in something that Keiichi had a hand in building or upgrading. Keiichi had spent the better half of the day arranging for accommodations for Berthold and Owan Dunwater. The gnomes had much the same reaction to the sea voyage as Maerdith, and had humbly asked Keiichi to set them up in an inn until his business at Candlekeep was finished. The Innovator, uncertain how long he was going to be at the library fortress, decided to buy them a warehouse and gave Berthold strict instructions to help Owan outfit it with whatever the older gnome needed to bide the time. A few others from Keiichi's small flock opted to stay as well to help Owan with whatever the old gnome might stand in need of. Thus the one warehouse became two, and then three once the planning really got underway.

It wasn't the way that Maerdith imagined the first temple to Keiichi, the Innovator, would be raised; but raised it was with swift efficiency and a dash of chaos for added spice. Within three days time the warehouses had been refitted and joined together into one large complex of workshops. Thirty two of the sixty three worthies that had left Lantan remained in Baldur's Gate with instructions to pursue their dreams and to aid those that needed it; to comfort those that stood in need of comfort and build up a safe and industrious community for all. It was the first time that Maerdith had heard anything resembling doctrine flow from Keiichi's lips and, as it stood, she felt it was something she could believe in. It felt like the natural thing to do for anyone with good in their heart, and these thirty two souls certainly had good hearts. Father Ellosin, who had accompanied the group from Lantan, readily agreed with her assessment and cheerfully hinted that Baldur's Gate was in for a revolution of sorts. Maerdith just hoped that the port city was ready for the changes coming their way.

The trip from the port to the grand library was ready to go just after the noon meal of their third day in Baldur's Gate, thanks to Ruthart's effective organization and Keiichi's crash course in building what he termed a mix between a "Tour Bus" and a "Recreational Vehicle" – the terms meant nothing to her, since the massive creation looked more like a war wagon than anything else.

The large box cart was unlike any standard coach she had ever seen. It was huge, easily topping thirty feet high and built to hold over thirty bodies, including all the supplies necessary to feed and clothe Keiichi's small band. The work was nothing short of a miracle, and it was evident that Keiichi was in his element. Plans were finished within an hour and by the end of the second, Keiichi had bought out the use of four shops from the resident blacksmiths nearest the East Gate. The work was furious, and certainly had an excitable audience. At one point the project was almost put to a stop by the city guard, but Berthold worked some of his own magic and not only smoothed things over, but somehow hired the guardsmen and their captain to work on the "RV" after their shift was over. This seemed to ease the minds of the politicians running the city, or at least Keiichi's gold did – especially the way the Innovator was throwing it around. By the morning of the third day in the city, the monstrosity was completed and ready for Kazuki-chan to "jack" into. Maerdith had no idea what the term meant until the METAT literally joined himself to the RV, becoming the behemoth's engine.

Upon entering the vehicle, the cleric of Ohgma was pleasantly surprised at how comfortable it was. There were bench seats for everyone, situated around rectangular tables allowing the passengers to face one another and converse at their leisure. Towards the back, there were waterclosets for both male and females, along with a small kitchen and pantry for food. There were steps at the very back that led up to a second floor which held more seating and, of all things, beds! There were also glass windows with pull down shades that allowed for people to enjoy the scenery or act as lookouts for the battle wagon. It was nothing short of miraculous, and she was certain that she hadn't seen half of what there was to see.

If anything, Keiichi's creation only fanned the flames of faith in his followers. She'd seen more than a few people asking Keiichi's acolytes for more information on this amazing man and his dogma. And the best part of it all, was that the Innovator himself had no idea that he was spreading the seeds of his faith. He just plugged along, working and solving problems as they arose. What made the day of his faithful and a very resourceful Berthold, was that Keiichi left the plans for the "RV" and an engine that would drive it behind with Owan. Maerdith had already heard Berthold and a merchant cleric of Waukeen talking about caravanning and opening up a travel service using a fleet of these vehicles. The idea that people would pay handsomely to travel in comfort and safety between here and Waterdeep or Amn wasn't in question. A city noble overhearing the conversation offered to put up the initial investment for the project and thus the temple had its first commission. The noble in question asked for passage with the group to assure himself that his investment was sound. Ruthart obliged him with the understanding that they were uncertain if or when they would be returning to Baldur's Gate. The man accepted the risk and hurried off to collect what he needed for the trip. Keiichi ignored it all in favor of pushing forward to Candlekeep.

So it was that the trip got underway just as the sun hit its zenith on the third day of their stay in Baldur's Gate. Keiichi insisted that everyone sitting in a bench secure themselves with "seatbelts" and Maerdith immediately understood why. Kazuki-chan was eager to be on the move and it showed. She wasn't sure how she had been convinced to ride up front with Keiichi, Ruthart, and Father Ellosin, but by the time she realized the danger, it was too late. The one hundred and fifty mile road from Baldur's Gate to CandleKeep wasn't straight and, on foot and without any surprises, it would take approximately five days to arrive at the great library.

Maerdith knew that they would beat that time without any trouble at all.

The scenery literally blurred under Kazuki-chan's speed, but without the wind whipping her hair about Maerdith was uncertain just how fast they were going. Even the gentle sway of the RV's carriage belied just how fast she knew they must be traveling. Perhaps it was her insatiable curiosity that led her to the inevitable question, but in the end, she made the mistake of asking Keiichi when he expected to reach the grand library. After a small conference with Father Ellosin, and a few quick calculations, he estimated no less than two and a half hours!

Maerdith of Ohgma certainly could see what it was that made Keiichi Morisato something special. The fact she had seen and felt his love for Belldandy firsthand did nothing to stem the growing affection that she was feeling for the man. She knew it was stupid of her. She knew in her heart and mind that he would never return her love. So why was she entertaining the emotions at all? It made no logical sense. The priestess could only shake her head and humble herself in prayer to her god, begging Ohgma to give her further understanding of her own path to play in Keiichi's destiny. The rest of the trip was spent in supplication, and by the time they arrived at the gates of Candlekeep, Maerdith was no closer to understanding her heart than before. One thing, which wouldn't become clear until much later in her life, was that she would no longer objectively write Keiichi's story. Her love for him would seep into her narrative, and in the days ahead her own devotion to Ohgma would be tested – even as Duncan's faith had been tested.

Which would she choose? Ohgma or Keiichi? Would her heart even give her the choice? As she watched Keiichi and Father Ellosin step from the cabin of the RV to speak with the Gate Keepers of the keep, Maerdith found herself already beginning to feel torn. Her disquiet was replaced by amusement when Kazuki-chan removed himself from the chassis and nearly gave the poor gate captain a heart attack. If nothing else, Maerdith knew that her path lay with this man and his mechanical son. Perhaps that knowledge would be enough to see her through to the end?

She watched the plain, yet handsome face of the god-to-be and smiled. Yes, perhaps.

**************

Silverymoon

She woke to the sound of voices. There was a sense of tension and urgency in their tone, but it was terribly hard to discern due to the languid warmth that suffused her heart and mind. She had touched Ranma, split though the Weavebender was, and each of his many aspects had returned her love an hundred fold. It was blissful. Was it any wonder that Usagi wanted nothing more than to hold on to the fleeting feeling as long as possible? Unfortunately, reality doesn't hold well with dreams, and the voices again drew her attention back to the waking world.

"Was it any difference for the rest of us?" A voice demanded. The softness of her voice was simply steel covered in velvet. "We each carry within us a piece of the Mother Goddess, is it so hard to believe that our sister has been granted such a boon as well?"

"No mighty Simbul," This voice seemed to smile playfully as it spoke, and Serenity felt the fond affection beneath the words. "It is not the gift that bothers me so; it is the timing of said gift that provokes my curiosity."

"How so, Laeral?"

"A mystery for another time Dove, for our baby sister awakes, though she hides it well."

Busted. Usagi must have frowned, because the rest of the women in the room let out peels of laughter.

"So, Baby Sister." Storm dropped herself onto the bed beside Usagi. "How are you feeling?"

Usagi contemplated that question, and many others that jockeyed for prominence in her mind, for a moment before answering.

"Tired." Her voice was raw and scratchy, and the water that one of the women pressed to her lips was heavenly. "Thanks."

"None needed, Little Rabbit." The woman's voice was regal, yet soothing – belying the wild and untamed ferocity that seemed to ooze from the rest of her. Usagi's gaze was drawn to her eyes and she found herself swallowed by a hidden maelstrom in the depths of the woman's soul.

"Alassra." The name came to her mind unbidden and slipped from her lips before she could rein the word in. "You're Alassra, Mystra's Vengeance."

The Simbul seemed a bit shocked and looked to the other women uncertainly as Usagi pressed her hand to her forehead. Foreign memories and sensations welled in her mind and heart at the vocalization of the name. She shook her head to clear away the cobwebs that clung to her consciousness and looked at the woman sitting to the Simbul's right.

"Storm. You're Storm. Mystra's Compassion." More images and a feeling of raw affection flowed through her extremities as Usagi came to know Storm Silverhand from the memories Mystra had pressed onto her.

Each sister was named in turn: Dove, Mystra's Sword. Laerel, Mystra's Cunning. Alustriel, Mystra's Hope. Sylune, Mystra's Wisdom. Qilue, Mystra's Acceptance. And with each name came a comfortable sense of familiarity that set Usagi more at ease. She might not know these women, but she could easily recognize them as family. Her naming them seemed to unsettle the sisters for a moment, but they recovered quickly enough to shower Usagi with a great deal of warmth and affection. All of which was most welcome.

The group, as a whole, jabbered like a flock of geese until well after lunch had come and gone. Usagi ate voraciously and smacked anyone's fingers that quested too close to her plates; Dove in particular had quite a few bruises on her knuckles to show for her thieving attempts. It wasn't until the Eighth Mystery had finished gorging herself that talk turned to more serious matters.

"She's going to need a reliable teacher, Alassra." Laeral said.

"And despite how much we might wish to be her mentors, time is one of the few things we have to spare; especially now with Obould on the move here in the north." Alustriel sighed. "We might be able to spare a tenday here and there, and that is being generous."

"But there are so few that can be trusted to teach her what she needs to know." Laeral frowned. She had so been looking forward to this! Damn orcs! It was always something that raised its head to ruin her fun! "Khelben is tied down, and if what you say is true about Elminster then it is very clear that we may not see him for years."

The Simbul smiled and nodded her head, but didn't say anything.

"What are you thinking Sister?" Dove asked. The shrewd look in her eye was unsettling, but the Simbul's smile only broadened.

"Simply put – a tutor."

"I thought we had established that none were available?" Storm asked.

"None from this world perhaps." The Simbul's smile widened.

"I think not!" Laeral growled. "I will not let my youngest sister be exposed to that red headed engine of destruction!"

"Lina was not so bad." Alassra waved her hand dismissively.

"Not bad? NOT BAD?" Laeral ground her teeth. "That little brat destroyed my entire demi-plane!"

"Only because you had the poor manners to ask if she was a transvestite."

"It was an honest mistake! Considering the fact that she's flat as a board, how could anyone have not come to the same conclusion?"

"Be that as it may, Lina was not the person I was thinking about. Mystra forbade the use of her Art here anyway, so, even if I wanted the little firebrand, she wouldn't be able to teach Serenity anything remotely useful."

"Then who did you have in mind?" Dove asked.

"Susan."

"Susan?" Alustriel demanded. "Are we talking about the Susan I think we're talking about?"

"That depends. How many Susan's do we know?" Storm asked with a grin.

"One." The sisters chimed in unison. Alassra nodded triumphantly.

"Who else could teach Serenity all she needs to know? She has experience teaching children, the lineage to understand our Little Rabbit's unique heritage, and more than enough propriety to deter any threat that comes her way."

"And those that don't have the sensibility to turn away will undoubtedly wish they had." Laeral cackled. "A brilliant choice!"

"Being the granddaughter of an anthropomorphic personification of Death does have its bright points, does it not?"

"What of her magical studies?" Sylune asked. "It would be a crime to neglect them."

"Our Little Rabbit is a sorceress of the highest caliber." Alassra defended. "Anyone with eyes can see that. Just look at her retainers if you doubt me."

"I don't doubt you dear Simbul." Sylune placated. "I would rather that Usagi have the same solid foundation that we had before gallivanting off into the unknown to stir up trouble."

"As would we all." Alustriel stroked Usagi's hair affectionately. "We will enroll Usagi into the Lady's College and leave her instruction in their capable hands. Susan will oversee the more important aspects of her education."

"Capital idea!" Dove clapped. "How soon can dear Susan be here?"

"Shall I invite her for dinner?" Alassra smiled eagerly.

"Let's make it a proper feast!" Storm grinned.

"We can't do that!" Alustriel countered. "You know how much Susan hates it when people make a fuss."

"So we'll only go with the month long festival that we'd originally planned?" Laeral pouted. "I swear! Susan's such a stick in the mud!"

The rest of the sisters laughed merrily at Laeral's antics before throwing themselves into the thick of planning. Usagi simply stared at the rapid exchange with a growing sense of uncertainty and dread as the plans became more and more extravagant.

When had she lost control of her life?

She couldn't help but curse the day that she'd saved a black cat from the clutches of a group of stupid little boys. Maybe they'd seen something in Luna that she couldn't. Maybe they'd been trying to save her from her Fate. Usagi sighed and dumped her chin onto hand. Well, she'd made her bed. There was nothing left to do but lie in it and hope for good dreams. Yes, dreams; dreams of a pigtailed Adonis and all of his yummy tight muscles.

She was forced to wipe the drool from her lips more than once under the knowing grins of all her new sisters. It was so humiliating, but she just couldn't help herself!

**************

The City of Shade

Telamont Tanthul sat upon his throne, silently contemplating the news the three scouts had brought him concerning the township of Providence and its inhabitants. Hadrhune, The Prince's Hand, stood at his right hand and behind Telamont's throne looking as troubled as the High Prince of the Shadovar felt.

Every augury that he'd demanded insisted that he should not pursue this course any further. But every practical thought told him that his power base would shatter if he didn't. Telamont had made a great number of enemies across the Planes, and being without magic to protect himself and his people from those threats was not an option he was willing to entertain. He was literally damned if he followed this course, and he was damned if he didn't. In the end it was simply choosing the lesser of two deaths. He could either languish on his throne awaiting the proverbial axe, or he could actively pursue his destruction in the hopes of cheating death. He'd successfully done so, many times in the past; what was one more gamble?

"Hadrhune."

"Yes, my Prince."

"Continue observing our target. Learn of his strengths and weaknesses." Telamont paused thoughtfully. "Move cautiously and silently. Do nothing to bring attention to our investigations. Once we have his full measure, only then shall we move against him."

"Yes, my Prince."

"Oh, and Hadrhune." The Prince's Hand paused as he turned to leave. "Remember that time is of the essence. Even now, I can feel our enemies gathering to see us undone."

Telamont watched his most faithful servant exit the throne room with a quickened step, once again pondering if this was the best course of action. The more he thought about the situation, the more he realized that this was his only course of action. That knowledge did nothing to alleviate the growing dread in his black heart.

**************

"PUT ME DOWN DAMN YE!"

Bedlam. That was the word in Sembia.

Elminster had heard tales from refugees rolling in day and night, for a full three days before the force that was Ranma Weavebender had come to Ordulin. He knew something was afoot well before the horror stories reached his ears. Koneko was beside herself with excitement and kept looking to the southeast with an expression of giddy anticipation about her adorable face. Two days before Ranma's female aspect arrived he'd felt her overwhelming presence approaching like a storm on the wind.

It was terrifying; that impending sense of doom. He'd felt the self-same sensation every time he entered a dungeon or faced off against some nameless horror.

Thus, he did everything he possibly could to prepare for Ranma's inevitable arrival. He warned those in power to prepare, secretly warded orphanages and a number of places of special interest, and frantically dug himself a functional bunker to weather the hurricane that was approaching. The foolish merchants refused to believe him and the guards only paid him passing attention. He would have stayed in his safe little hole until the chaos had passed him by, if he hadn't forgotten to buy his tobacco.

Right now the Magister was really cursing his addiction to pipe-weed.

Hogrhim Aporos had come upon him quite by accident, right after some fool woman had emptied her wash basin over El's head. Thus it was, in a fit of panic and self-preservation, the terrified pervert had scooped up little magical cat-girl Elminster, on the off chance that the demoness and her coven would spare him if he was carrying a little girl. The stupid fool had only made the avatar and her Furies more enraged, and the spells they threw his way only changed in their intent rather than stopped as he'd hopped.

El could only say this about the man; he was very agile and adept at dodging. No doubt all the credit could be laid at Ranma's feet.

"THEY WON'T STOP YE FLEA-BITTEN MONGREL!" Elminster yelled. "PUT ME DOWN AND FACE THY PUNISHMENT LIKE A MAN!

Hogrhim continued to ignore the cute little cat-girl in the frilly dress in favor of dodging down another alley, just ahead a number of eldritch bolts of power. El could see that they were drifting further and further away from Koneko-chan and Valor, and subsequently the safety of El's impressively warded bunker. Not that it would have done him any good against the likes of Ranma and her group. El sighed and tried not to grimace as Hogrhim squeezed her small body tighter reflexively as another green bolt of magical energy zipped past his ear.

Damn the tobacco. He was swearing off the stuff here and now. There was no way in the Abyss that he was ever going to touch the stuff again.

"NOT THAT WAY YE MORONIC TOAD! YE'RE HEADING INTO SOME POOR FOOL'S ESTATE! YE'LL BE TRAPPED FOR SURE!"

It wasn't like Elminster wanted to be a back-coach driver, but from the massive murderous intent building at their backs, he was starting to feel kind of sorry for the poor schmuck that had abducted him. There was really no way to escape Ranma's blinding wrath now. It was just a matter of degrees. He could take his medicine now, or prolong the inevitable a bit longer and let her anger grow.

"PERVERT! LET THE LITTLE CAT-GIRL GO AND I PROMISE ONLY TO GELD YOU!"

Hogrhim squealed like a pig, and began blubbering. Prayers to Waukeen and Lathander escaped the man's lips without thought and Elminster felt a strange sort of pity overcome him.

"It's a good deal, you really should take it."

"SHUT UP!" El winced at the pitch of the man's squeaky voice and rubbed her sensitive ears to soften the ringing.

"Ye don't have to screech like a banshee. I can hear ye fine."

El crossed her small arms and pouted. This is what she got for trying to be compassionate. Well, if that was the way the moron wanted it, fine. Elminster would just keep her suggestions to herself from here on out. Let the bastard bury himself for all she cared.

The fugitive ran up the steps to some wealthy merchant's home and shouldered his way through the door with a strength born of desperation. A servant carrying a wash bucket screamed in alarm as he and El flew by, upsetting the older woman and her bucket of dirty water on the tiled floor with a splash. They flew down two corridors, drawing curious eyes in their wake. The sound of loud cursing and bodies hitting the floor echoed from behind them, causing the terrified man to start praying anew. That lasted until an older man and woman stepped from a rather well appointed room in expensive dressing gowns and sleeping caps.

"MOMMY! DADDY! SAVE ME!"

El found himself thrust into the arms of the old man, who immediately began running when the end of the corridor went up in a conflagration of eldritch blue and purple flames. The older woman chanced a look over her shoulder and screamed bloody murder at the sight of Ranma-chan wreathed in magic and fire. Her eyes glowed red, even from this distance, and El felt a shudder run through her little body.

"HOGRHIM! YOU STUPID PUSTULE!" The patriarch of the Aporos family roared. "WHAT EVIL HAVE YOU BROUGHT DOWN UPON OUR HEADS!"

The man's son whimpered something under his breath, hoping that he wouldn't be heard. Unfortunately, even a fool knows that a parent, especially a mother, can hear a fly fart at a hundred paces when they're properly motivated.

"YOU DID WHAT!?"

El had to smile at the scandalized outrage in the voice of Hogrhim's mother. If his life weren't in such danger, he might have even laughed at the idea that the moron was getting his ears boxed by the elderly matriarch for goosing a maid in the market. Amazingly the beating that Lady Aporos was unloading on her son did little to slow their pace. If anything, it made the boy run faster.

And thus it went for a full two hours more. Hogrhim would run to another merchant's house, kick in the door and barrel through. This would subsequently draw in more bodies to the mob, which in turn created a wall of flesh between him and Ranma. The elders of the Aporos family were no longer just running from Ranma, but from their peers as well for dragging them into the madness. Elminster had found herself passed back and forth between father and son, like some sort of hot potato, until they finally made their way to the steps of the Great Hall of the Council of Sembia. Hogrhim had been aiming for the Tower of the Guards, but the bristling wall of steel that met him there was definitely not friendly, so he'd immediately altered his course accordingly.

Unfortunately, all hope of escape died a sudden and ignoble death as the manic pervert reached the mighty golden doors of that august establishment. For there, standing before the great portals, was none other than Ranma-chan herself. Her red hair had turned to flames, and her eyes were now white coals of fury that caused the entire mob to stop dead in their tracks. Elminster had been in the presence of Mystra, and that self-same weight of divinity now shrouded Ranma-chan like a cloak. It pressed down upon everyone, forcing them to their knees, shaking like leaves one and all.

The Magister was humbled when Ranma-chan came up to her and lifted El's chin, carefully inspecting the magical cat-girl for injuries.

"You alright?"

Elminster nodded dumbly, inadvertently biting her lip in an adorable display of worry. Ranma-chan narrowed her eyes, weighing El in a way that made the mage sweat. The avatar's gaze seemed to sort through Elminster's soul for a time, before Ranma-chan smiled warmly and patted the magical cat-girl's head.

"We'll talk later Elminster Aumar. Right now, I got some divine feminine justice to hand out to this little bastard." Hogrhim cringed as she strode forward and lifted the idiot clear from his feet. "What am I going to do with you and your grabby little fingers, Hogrhim Aporos?"

"Burn them off one by one." Wynn yelled.

"And his bits!" Rhane added.

"It's a start." Ranma smiled darkly.

Hogrhim pissed himself in fright and began to weep again. El was amazed that the man had any liquid left in him after all that running and sweating.

"He does have much to answer for, Lady Ranma." Phael's voice was filled with reverence.

"True. Rather than take his initial punishment like a man, he ran from his troubles hoping that daddy would save him. How many lives did you endanger in your attempt to escape justice Little Hogrhim?"

The crowd roared in anger, calling for Hogrhim's head to roll.

"Killing's too quick for this one." Ranma shook her head and tapped her chin.

"Please spare my son!" Lady Aporo's crawled on her belly to Ranma's feet and wept for her only child as only a caring mother would. "Yes he is stupid. Yes he is a waste of skin. He is his father's son! If you must punish someone, punish him!"

Ranma, Elminster, and the rest of the crowd could only blink as the blame was shifted from heir to patriarch. Lord Aporos could only stare at his wife, mouth firmly unhinged in disbelief.

"What are you saying woman!? Are you trying to get me killed?"

"We wouldn't even be in this mess if you hadn't taught your son to wench you…you…you filthy, unfaithful, horse's ass!"

"Unfaithful! Isn't that the kettle preaching to the pot! How many stablemen warm your bed whore?"

"At least they have something to warm me up with Dinky!"

The battle of words went back and forth, becoming more and more ribald with each passing moment, leaving Ranma and many within the crowd stunned. When the matriarch launched herself at her husband, intent to claw his eyes out, a number of guardsmen stepped in and separated the pair.

In their wake, a group of well dressed men and women (even if they were in their pajamas) stepped forward and bowed low to a still stunned Ranma.

"Who is this conquering sorceress that we do address?" An elderly man, complete with long stringy grey beard, asked differentially.

Seeing that Ranma wasn't going to be answering anytime soon, Phael stepped forward.

"Ranma Weavebender, Goddess of Sorcery. Kneel before her majesty." At the half-elf's words, power seemed to spike in Ranma unconsciously forcing everyone to their knees again.

"We cede Sembia and her holdings to thee, oh Goddess of Sorcery. Have mercy on us all."

"The Weavebender accepts you and your offerings gladly." Wynn eagerly acknowledged.

This seemed to snap Ranma out of her stupor.

"Say what?"

El groaned and shivered. Somehow, someway, the Magister turned little magical cat-girl knew that this wasn't going to end well.