This could have been an episode of The Twelve Labours of Imoen, but it wasn't. It's a slightly silly piece.

Storm Of The Dead
~*~

Lightning struck a trunk just metres away from Imoen. There had been too much rain fall during the day to set the bark ablaze; instead it cracked and hissed and erupted in a small cloud of steam. The red head had no desire to find out what would happen if it struck her.

"I think I see a small cave," Aerie called out, her voice barely audible over the howling wind.

"Well, what are you waiting for then?" Imoen grabbed the Elf's hand and ran up the hill in the direction she had been pointing.

When the Avariel had said a 'small cave' she hadn't been exaggerating. It was barely big enough for them both to fit inside; more of an alcove really. But it was shelter from the storm at least. With it showing no signs of relenting, neither girl wanted to go out to see if any better cavern was available so they had no choice but to spend the night.

"Stop hogging all of the blanket!" Imoen demanded, tugging the cloth so that it didn't cover so much of the Elf.

"Y-you know, we could have packed another one," Aerie grunted and tugged back, "i-if you hadn't insisted on bringing that stupid stuffed dragon," sitting another corner of the alcove was the object in question that Imoen had picked up at a fete a few days ago. It was about half the size of one of them, and the flashes of lightning outlined its bulbous eyes, oversized beak and hideously green fluffy skin. Imoen thought it was cute, but Aerie considered it one of the most grotesque things she had ever laid eyes on. And she used to live next door to a Pig Lady.

"Listen," Imoen said, her eyes flashing a warning, "I'm prepared to let you say a lot of things, but I do not want to hear you knocking Dwayne the Dwagon."

"I-isn't that how you won him?" Aerie winced and pulled. Remaining defiant even though at this point she knew she'd already lost the tug of war over the blanket; she could see in Imoen's eyes that the human just wanted it more. "Plus we obviously could have used another blanket... w-whereas we've no use whatsoever for that... t-that thing..."

"He's cute! Plus, you never know, do you? He might prove very useful."

"How? W-what possible situation could there be that will require us to have a-a... a tacky toy dragon?"

"You are cruising for a bruising, you know that?"

"It's a... a dumb doll!" Aerie gasped as she finally let go and surrendered the blanket, falling on her side away from Imoen and curling up slightly.

"Come on, kid," Imoen smiled and then said, holding up one side of the blanket invitingly, "we'll just have to scooch closer together." Even though she had emerged victorious, she obviously couldn't let her friend be cold all night. Aerie accepted the invitation, 'scooching' closer so that their heads were touching. "Just don't tell the others about this; especially not Edwin. You know what he's like." In fact, they had shared a blanket and even a bed like this many times; but nothing really happened for people like Edwin to get excited about. It was just nice on cold nights to be able to see each others warmth.

"He might have a heart attack..."

"Really? Well then maybe... nah, we'll just keep it between ourselves."

Another flash and the rolling of thunder made them both turn their heads to watch the storm as it engulfed the forest.

"Bit weird how it came on so suddenly," the red head commented.

"Yes," the Elf answered quietly, in awe of the beauty and destructive power of nature just metres away from her.

"They say lightning never strikes the same place twice."

"Oh," Aerie commented, but she only really heard the words Imoen had said when she replayed them in her head seconds later. "I-I don't think that's true... d-didn't that sad looking dwarf we met say he'd been struck seven times?"

"Yeah, but he was stood on top of a hill begging Talos to do it... he was trying to commit suicide."

"Still, I-I'm pretty sure I've read about places being struck by lightning lots of times."

"Well, it was Jaheira who said it... guess I'll just tell her you said she was wrong."

"Fine," Aerie yawned, "I'm not scared of her."

"I'll tell her you said that too."

"You... y-you wouldn't, really? Would you?"

"Ah, so you're not so sure now?"

"No... I-I know I'm right. Go ahead and tell her, if you want."

Imoen in fact knew that Aerie was right too; it was interesting though to see how much the Elf had changed. While there have always been things she would never go along with because they opposed her morals, in her every day dealings with people the old Aerie would just go along with whatever idiotic suggestion people made even when she in fact knew better than they did. It was good to see her growing in confidence a little bit and challenging people more. Although she was obviously wrong about Dwayne the Dwagon.

"I used to love watching storms when I was little," Imoen reminisced, closing her eyes and allowing the wind fluttering her hair to take her all the way back, "from the towers in Candlekeep you could see the sea as well, with the waves smashing the rocks... awesome..."

"In Faenya-Dail the weather could change very quickly... i-it'll be bright and sunny and then there'll be a blizzard an hour later," Aerie recalled, "Avariel always have to go indoors then... w-we don't want our wings getting wet and damaged. I-it was nice though... me and my friends would sit around and tell stories until the storm had passed."

"Yeah... I don't know why people call it 'bad' weather. It brings them closer together I think. Like we are now."

"Yes," Aerie yawned again, closing her eyes and her head falling gently on Imoen's shoulder; she was nearly out.

"Good night, Aerie," Imoen relaxed herself a bit as well. Of course, she hadn't failed to notice how almost unbearably cute Aerie looked sometimes; almost as cute as herself.

"... night..."

--

The storm kept raging for hours while the two slept. Aerie awoke then into an eerie monochrome world, with the storm still just as strong as when she'd nodded off. Flashes of lightning briefly illuminated the twisted branches and made spectres out of the shadows.

It immediately stuck her as odd for a thunderstorm to last this long, even if it was not unprecedented. But, she actually had more urgent business she needed to attend to; she needed to pee. It obviously wouldn't do to go all over Imoen, not even if she was really mad at her. So she had to risk venturing a short distance away from the alcove and crouching behind a bush. When she had finished her business, and was about to go back, she thought she saw something through the corner of her eye; something that wasn't just a shadow.

When she fully turned there was nothing there. She stood still and listened for a moment... hidden under the wind, she could hear another howling. This sounded more like a human or an elf... sounded like they could have been pain. Her instincts immediately took over from her common sense, and she headed towards the sound thinking someone was lost and hurt in the forest and in need of help. But there was no one... no one living anyway.

She came into a clearing and rested her staff against a tree; with the wind drowning it, it was very hard, even with her big elven ears, to pin point exactly where the noise was coming from. When she next heard the howl, it was very close and its pitch had changed; now more angry and feral. She spun, ready to unleash a swarm of magic bolts on whatever it was.

"Wooarrggg!" A white, semi-transparent figure clad in ancient armor cried as it sped through the air towards her, its jaw hanging open almost as wide as its head.

"Oh," the Avariel relaxed, cursing herself for being so jumpy. It was just a ghost.

"I said, wooarrgg!" The spectre said, stopping just in front of her. "It's like 'woo', you see, only a with a bit more aggression."

"Yes... woo to you too, sir," she said with a quick curtsy.

"Um... I'm a ghost you see..."

"I know."

"People are usually a bit more surprised, at least."

"Oh, I-I've seen ghosts before," Aerie said. She noticed the spirit hanging his head, looking miserable. Obviously it wasn't the reaction he had wanted. "Oh, but... i-if I hadn't I'd have been really scared. My heart may have even stopped."

"You're just... you're just saying that, aren't you?"

"Honestly... look, m-my skins turned completely white!"

"It was like that anyway. It's okay, you don't have to pretend," the ghost sighed, "I suppose it might be nice to just talk to someone living after all these many centuries."

"Centuries?"

"At least... you do tend to lose track of time somewhat when you're wandering the spirit world."

"What's going on?" Imoen bound into the clearing, looking somewhat ruffled. "Who's he?"

"He's a Ghost," Aerie explained.

"I can see that."

"Wooarrggg!" The spirit advanced on the newcomer, who was less impressed and cared far less about its feelings than the elf.

"Oh, cut that out," she waved it off, her hand passing straight through the spirit's incorporeal torso. "We're not tourists... I was just trying to get some sleep over here which is hard enough in this weather without you 'wooarrggging' all over the place."

"What?!" The spirit snapped, completely flustered. "You're complaining about losing one night of your beauty sleep? I've been stuck in this godsforsaken forest for years!"

"I appreciate you needing to keep your spirits up, but can't you do it without keeping us up?"

"Don't you dare start with the ghost puns... you don't think I haven't heard them all before do you? 'Keep your spirits up', 'sorry I spook '... you wait until you've been dead for centuries. See how funny you think it is then."

"Or what? What will you do? Look," Imoen waved her hand several times again through the spirits torso, "you can't touch me, can you?"

"Ah, but you can't touch me either, see? And I don't need to sleep... but I can see to it that you can't."

"Ahem," Aerie coughed since she at least really did want to get some sleep. "W-who were you in life, spirit?"

"I was a soldier," he explained, unclenching his glare from Imoen. "Caius Ignoramus was my name," the red head snorted loudly. "What? What the hell is so funny about my name!?"

"Um... s-so," even the kind hearted elf was finding it hard not laugh, which Imoen obviously didn't help with. "H-how did you end up here, haunting this forest?"

"I died in battle, although it was in a place far from here. When our corpses were being returned home, they were seized by a necromancer. He planned to raise an army of the undead and conquer these lands... the first part of his plan at least succeeded, and I was one of those reanimated, forced to fight again and against my will."

"What happened?"

"The living warriors found out about his plan far in advance; they had time to erect barricades and build machines of war. When we finally attacked, they were too well prepared. Unable to resist the will of our master we fought until every last one of us was cut down; but although our bodies were destroyed our souls have remained trapped here, unable to pass on."

"You say 'our'... so, t-there are other spirits here?"

"Thousands... just look above you."

"I see," Aerie said, looking starry eyed at the sky as another lightning strike split it in two, "Those aren't clouds... t-this isn't really a storm. Those are the souls of all your comrades, caught up in the atmosphere... amazing..."

"Amazing, but not wanted. As you can see, most of us are still pretty angry about it all."

"I understand... y-you must have loved ones waiting for you on the other side."

"Listen, Ig... Caius," Imoen sighed, "My experience tells me that the only reason you're actually talking to us is because you know what needs to be done to help you pass on. Am I right?"

"I was just going to try and scare you away like the others... I suppose in hindsight though it would have been better to have asked people for help," Caius said, rubbing his chin. "And since you've offered, maybe there is something you can do. You see, shortly after the battle a bunch of priests did try to perform an exorcism. But they were interrupted; the necromancer made one last bid for power which destroyed everything. But the priest's scroll is still here; all it would it take is for someone to finish reading it."

"But, won't it have to be a priest?"

"Isn't she a priest?" Caius said, pointing at Aerie, "she kind of feels like one to me."

"I-I do have the power to heal," The elf said, "but I'm not a priest in the strict sense, no."

"But you are favoured by the Gods," the spirit shrugged, "maybe that will be enough."

"All right," Imoen slapped her palms together, "So we get the scroll, finish the ritual and then you'll let us get some sleep, right? Even if it doesn't work... we promise we'll come back tomorrow with someone that's fully a priest, okay?"

"I give you my word as a Centurian," he said, beating his chest.

"So where is this scroll?"

"It resides in the temple, the entrance to which is just a hundred yards that way."

"Right... come on Aerie, let's get this done quick."

"Er... b-be warned, travellers," The spirit called out after them, "terrible, nightmarish creatures have taken up residence in the temple also." Imoen turned around, and stomped back to look the ghost right in the eye.

"You're still trying to scare is, aren't you?" She glared.

"Um... n-no... it was just a warning is all," The Ghost said, fidgeting with his baldrick a bit.

"What kind of creatures?"

"Well... Kobolds..."

"Those pathetic little lizards?" Aerie raised an eyebrow. "W-why didn't you just ask them to bring you the scroll?"

"Well... we have tried a few times, but... they were really, really mean..."

"Couldn't even scare a kobold?" Imoen shook her head. "Fine, just leave it all to us."

The entrance to the temple wasn't hard to find; just a hundred yards exactly in the direction Caius had indicated.

"How will we get them to give us the scroll?" Aerie asked. "I-I don't want to have to slaughter them."

"Hmm," Imoen thought. She noticed near the entrance a very crude carving of a great winged creature that presumably the kobolds worshipped as a God. "I have an idea... I think it may be even better than the last idea I had."

"Mixing Tea with Coffee and calling it 'Toffee'?"

"Yup... even better than that one..."

--

The Kobolds were all slumbering peacefully around the altar, after a busy day catching rats and other rodents and looting some of the local farms. Of course, the chieftain rested in the highest place on top of the altar itself. They'd actually done a good job cleaning up the place; sweeping away the dust and cobwebs and pulling out the weeds that had grown here after centuries of neglect.

One of the Kobolds twitched as a shadow was cast over him, and then awoke. He looked up and he saw... big dark eyes, green skin, a break... and how tall it was. It just had to be...

"The Great One!" The Kobold screeched in its pitched croaking voice. "The Great One has returned!" The others all awoke and started screeching, hopping excitedly and some scurrying away to hide in the shadowy recesses.

"You sure it's The Great One?" One of the more sceptical among them asked. "Skin doesn't look very scaly... more fluffy. And since when did The Great One wear a blanket over himself?"

"I am the Great One's messenger, Dwayne," Imoen said, trying to make her voice deep and booming with limited success.

"Dwayne!" The Kobolds all screeched in renewed excitement. "Dwayne the Dwagon! A messenger from the Great One!"

"But why don't his mouth move when he talks?" The sceptical one was still sceptical.

"It's, er... telepathy!" Imoen said, having had another brilliant idea. "I am projecting my thoughts directly into your minds."

"Such amazing powers The Great Ones messenger has!" The Kobolds all started prostrating themselves. "What is it The Great Ones messenger wants?"

"The Great One demands you give him the scroll in your possession... so, if you could just hand it over I'll leave to get on with worshipping him by yourselves."

"The one the misty people asked for?" The chieftain had been sleeping next to it. "We don't even know what it's for..."

"That's because none of you are The Great One. Now hand it over."

"Here," the chieftain placed it in 'Dwayne's' gloved hand. "You'll tell The Great One we took good care of it, yes?"

"Of course... so, er... bye, then."

Dwayne turned and walked out. The Chieftain thought it looked a bit strange the way his exceedingly big butt wiggled... but then, Gods obviously weren't like ordinary people.

"Brothers," he said solemnly, "this is a day we remember for generations to come! To be visited by an actual messenger from The Great One himself! I told you we'd be noticed one day."

"Bah... me was a bit disappointed," one of the younger ones said, "thought he looked a bit tacky."

--

Imoen whipped the blanket off, turned around and took Dwayne from Aerie, who had been holding him in place on top of Imoen's head the entire time.

"My back," the elf winced and sat down.

"See... told you he'd be handy," Imoen said, giving the Dwagon a huge hug. "You never believe me do you? But I always turn out to be right."

"B-but... you had no way of knowing a situation like that was going to come up," Aerie insisted, "And... h-how long will it be before anything like it comes up again... if it ever does..."

"There's no need to sulk Aerie... just learn to admit it when you're wrong. Like a grown up would."

"A-are you calling me immature?" The elf stood up, flushed, and placed her hands on her hips. "A woman in her twenties who is hugging a huge stuffed toy?"

"Oh, I get it; you're jealous aren't you? You think he's taking my attention away from you," Imoen grinned.

"That... th-that's ridiculous," the elf said crossing her arms defensively. "H-how could I be jealous of a toy?"

"Aww... it's alright," the red head said, patting Aerie on the head. "He isn't going to replace you," she then sighed, "I suppose I will just give him to some boy or girl in the next village."

"Good... the sooner I don't have to look at him anymore the better."

"Aerie, come on... how can you hurt his feelings like that even after he's helped us?"

"He's just a..." Aerie was interrupted by a very loud crack of thunder. "I-I think the spirits want us to hurry..."

"Here's the scroll... try your best, okay?"

Of course, you never really had to tell Aerie to do that. And she'd never had any trouble reading anything, which was all she had to do. And it worked; Caius Ignoramus appeared before them one last time, smiled, and then departed.

The rest of the night was clear, the pair putting aside their almost sisterly quarrel and sleeping very well under a starry sky.