Heroes & Villains
Rows of houses rested silently in the moonlight. Nothing stirred within them... which was kind of creepy. It didn't help Imoen that Aerie was being so quiet either. There were people in these homes until recently; in the Inn they found fresh fruit and vegetables. But not a trace of fauna.
"Where'd everyone go?" The redhead asked. She and her usual number one sidekick had been travelling just a couple of days and this was the first habitation they had come across. "Did they just vanish? What if something happened and everyone vanished... imagine that; we could be the last two people left in the whole world..."
Aerie looked up from behind the bar, furrowing her brow.
"I'm still not playing with you," the elf huffed.
"Oh, why not?" Imoen threw her hands up; she couldn't believe Aerie was still mad about that card game.
"You know why; I caught you cheating. Y-you didn't really think you'd get away with it, did you? We had gamblers come to the circus; I've seen every trick there is."
"So you caught me. I won't do it again, then. Besides, we can play another game."
"You'll only play games you can cheat at, so there's no point. You just can't stand the thought that I might beat you. That's why most of the time we're sparring you've suddenly twisted your ankle o-or you've 'caught' menopause... don't know why I let you get away with that one..."
Imoen straightened up, placing her fist on her hip. Her honour had been challenged and she really ought to put Aerie in her place... except she wasn't entirely sure that she could. She'd heard a story once about a katana wielding monk who never lost a duel, and when they asked him his secret he said before a fight he would 'feel' his opponents energy and if it was too strong, he backed out. Imoen was the same with Aerie; the blonde hadn't great stamina but was in fact more skilled with a weapon, but some days Imoen could 'feel' that the elf wouldn't try hard to hurt her. But on other days she could see the absolute determination in her friend's eyes and so the redhead just had to make an excuse, or change the subject...
"Heh... y'know my brother when he was small," Imoen reminisced, "he wanted to get out of archery practice and... he must have overheard one of the older girls saying it and so he told the teacher he couldn't go because he was having his period..."
Aerie sniggered, her frown turning upside down for a moment but she soon remembered. "No! I-I'm still mad at you..."
"Fine," Imoen sighed. It didn't matter; Aerie would have forgotten about it by morning, anyway. She always did.
"T-these people didn't vanish, anyway," the elf sighed, "they packed some things and left."
"The whole village?" Imoen shook her head. "Why? Air seems okay... didn't see any sign of any Orcish horde on the way here. C'mon... maybe there's a temple or meeting hall we might find clues in."
"You're wrong, you know," Imoen made some conversation as the pair made their way through the ghostly village. "I don't cheat. Well, not all the time anyway. You wanna know why it is you never beat me? Because you are right in that you really should win, at least sometimes."
"Why?" Aerie said with a reluctant sigh.
"You do it to yourself most of time. It seems like any time you get close to getting something you want, there's this little paranoid part of your brain kicks in telling you don't deserve it and then it blows it for ya. You're probably not aware of it most of the time, but I see it."
"So why are you telling me this, now?"
"Do you really need to ask that? I'm a little bit of a cheat, sure... it's how I survive. But you're my friend and I want you to know, you shouldn't be paranoid. You deserve to have good things happen to you."
"You too, Imoen," the elf started to smile again, "and, y-you know I'd stick with you, even if I thought you were a loser."
"Thanks, kid," Imoen smiled too. She already knew that was the case, but it was always nice to hear.
"I mean... l-lets face it, every other Bhaalspawn we've met so far has been about ten times more powerful than you..."
"Er... yeah, okay," Imoen was smiling a bit less now.
"The odds of you or anyone following you making it to The Throne must be pretty slim... it's crazy to be siding with you and not any of them..."
"We were kind of having a nice moment there..."
"But I met you first," the elf sighed, "and none of the others have been as nice as you..."
"Okay, that's nice again. Let's leave it there."
"Y-you're as insecure as me beneath that 'eternal child' act, aren't you?" Aerie kept grinning facetiously.
"That's it... now I am going to kick your elven arse..." Imoen tried to put the blonde in a headlock, but the elf managed to slip out and run away, still giggling. The redhead was faster though and caught and tackled her very quickly.
"I-I-Imoen!" Aerie croaked as she struggled to her knees; the redhead still had an arm around her neck, and the other one holding the elf's hand behind her back.
"You give?" Imoen asked.
"No... l-look," the blonde pointed with her free hand.
They'd found the villagers; or rather, the villagers had found them. They must have been hiding round the backs of some of the houses and came out when they heard the scuffle, all brandishing torches, pitchforks and other farming implements rather threateningly.
"She, er," Imoen let her friend go and rose slowly to her feet, "she doesn't like taking her medicine."
"What do we do, Jim?" One of the men asked. "They could be the ones..."
"Them?" Another asked incredulously, "they look harmless to me."
"Can't judge anyone by appearances... they could be witches or demons in disguise!"
"We're not demons," Imoen sensed a great deal of fear around here; why else would they have been hiding? Fear could make people do some pretty strange, unpredictable things, as she knew well. She made sure they could see her hands, that she wasn't carrying any wands or weapons. "We are witches, but we're just passing through. We thought you'd all left for some reason."
"Things go on like they are, and we surely will," a man who stood a little in front of the others said. Maybe that was 'Jim'. "Seems like someone's put a curse on this place."
"They said they were witches! It must be them," another man said.
"You idiot!" Declared an old woman. "Why would they tell us that if they were responsible for all that's been happening?"
"You know how wise old women always are," Imoen said, "I'd listen to her. We really don't want to hurt anyone."
"Tilda ain't wise... she's the village who... owww!"
"You wash your mouth out young man! The term is 'prostistute', n'it's the oldest profession in the world..."
"Yeah... and you were there when it started... owww! Stop hitting me with that shovel!"
"Enough!" The leader of the mob boomed. "Maybe they are responsible, and maybe they ain't. If they ain't and they witches like they say, then maybe they can help. I say we take them to Roy and let him decide."
The two adventurers didn't resist as some villagers approached cautiously and disarmed them; Jim made sure they handed over spell books and components too. Like Imoen said, they really didn't want to hurt them anyway. They had to find out what was going on and earn their trust.
"Should we tell them who we are?" Aerie whispered as they were led to the village hall.
"What? That I'm a Bhaalspawn and you're a wingless winged elf?" Imoen whispered back. "Nah... they'll think we're strange and confused."
"W-which we are..."
"We are... but we must keep that fact a secret."
It seemed like everyone in the village had packed their stuff and locked themselves in the meeting hall. Roy was in a room at the back, a sort of office although there weren't a lot of books or papers. He was presumably mayor or constable or both. Likely he'd got his position simply because he'd managed to be alive longer than everyone else, apart possibly from Tilda.
"It's never easy you know," he said, sitting behind the desk opposite them, "the community would fall apart if it didn't have someone to look up to. Who always appears to be strong and in control, able to make all the tough decisions. But the truth is I'm as scared out of my pants as everyone else here. And so, who are you?"
"Yes," Imoen nodded sagely.
"Well?"
"Oh... sorry. I thought it was a rhetorical question. I'm Imoen and this is my sidekick, Aerie."
"Sidekick?" Aerie shot a glance at the redhead. "S-so much for us not appearing strange and confused..."
"You are... you know you are."
"And you're witches?" Roy asked hopefully.
"We're adventurers. Had a bit of business up north, and now we're on our way back to Athkatla to meet our friends there."
"Your friends wouldn't mind if you were delayed, would they? We're in trouble here, you see..."
"Yeah, I'd figured that. Why'd you leave your homes and lock yourselves up in here?"
"Thing is, we're not sure. Someone, or something, is out there trying to scare us... and succeeding. At first it was just strange noises in the night... thought it was just children having fun. But then, Mrs Norris' cat showed up on her doorstep," Roy went slightly pale, "it... had been dissected. Then other people's pets started disappearing, and showing up again the same way. Started happening to livestock too. Of course, we sent people out to search the hills and woodland but they found no sign of anything... and then there was this," Roy opened a drawer, taking out a scrap of paper and handing it across to Imoen. "It was nailed to the door of the Inn."
"'Pity the land that breeds no hero'?" Imoen read out.
"No idea what it means. Everyone thought it must be some kind of threat. No one felt safe in their homes and this was the last straw; everyone came here. I've sent a messenger to the local Lord, but even if she makes it there it'll be days before any help arrives, if it does. And who knows what else could happen before then."
"Aerie?" Imoen handed her friend the note.
"I-it's from a play I think," the elf said, "I can't quite remember; I wish I had my books."
"How would knowing what play or whatever its from help us?" Roy asked, arching an eyebrow.
"Might tell us something about the mind of whoever left it," Imoen explained, "if we can work out what they're thinking it would make them easier to track down, or at least what they'll do next."
"I see. Unfortunately, this isn't a very literate community. Maybe..." the door creaked open, and a bearded man in his thirties limped inside carrying a tray of drinks. "Ah, just the man. Percy, you have a few books in your house, don't you?"
"Sure," Percy shrugged as he placed a cup of water down for Imoen then limped around to Aerie. "What of it?"
"The elf lass here thinks that note from the Inn might be a quote from a play."
"Hmph... could be, I suppose," Percy looked sideways at Aerie as he put her drink down. "Don't have a lot of plays though. Mostly just manuals for stuff."
"A-alchemy?" Aerie asked. Percy intensified his stare.
"Now what makes you say that?"
"Your hands... t-they're a bit discoloured... sorry, I-I didn't mean to pry..."
"Use chemicals for cleaning," he explained, releasing her from his gaze. "Got a few plays on the shelf in my front room though. Go and have a look if you want. Sure the mayor can tell you where my house is; me, I'm not taking a step outside," he said, and abruptly left.
"What's his problem?" Imoen asked the mayor.
"Percival... he likes to keep to himself. Especially after what happened a couple of years ago."
"Why? What happened?"
"Had a group of bandits raid the village. Percy, well, he tried to be a hero. Tried to take them all on by himself... didn't do much to slow them down. It was them who busted his leg; since then he just lives in his house by himself and does odd jobs here and there."
"What happened to the bandits?"
"Oh, some paladins came after them. They're long gone, I'm sure..."
"Hmm... well, I think we've heard enough. We'll see if we can get to the bottom of this."
"Oh... thank you very much!"
"He was lying," Aerie said, as they stood outside Percival's home at the very edge of the village, "c-chemicals like that aren't used for cleaning."
"Yeah, I know," it been bothering Imoen since they'd left the hall. She didn't know what it meant; that man was clearly up to something, although it might be anything to do with the recent goings on. "Well, it's as good a place as any to start. Let's poke around."
The inside of the room seemed pretty normal; a few small paintings over the fireplace, cupboards, shelves and a few books... but Percy had lied about them too. They weren't manuals for anything; they were plays.
"Here!" Aerie was by the fireplace. "I-I've found the quotation. It's bookmarked..."
"What does it say?" Imoen asked.
"'Pity the land that breeds no hero'. B-but then the next line is, 'no... pity the land that needs them.'"
"What does it mean?" Imoen thought out loud, turning back round.
"I think..."
"What?" Imoen asked, but her friend had suddenly gone very quiet. "Aerie...?" She turned around again, just in time to see the plank swinging towards her head.
What a bufflehead... Imoen thought of herself as she came around. She'd been too laid back. She;d forgotten that as powerful as she and Aerie were, all it ever really took was one lucky blow and it was over. She should have been more alert, more cautious.
She was sitting up, her wrists tied to a post... actually, some animals. She could hear a goat behind her. She was in a barn and, she was relieved to see, Aerie was next to her coming round as well, although she was also tied.
"Aerie?" She said her friends name, still more than a little worried.
"Er... I-I'm okay. You?"
"Just a headache."
"Adventurers, huh?" Imoen squinted, her vision still a little blurry, but... yup, there was Percival sat on a barrel smoking a pipe. "Heroes... couple of girls," he said disgustedly. "You know, I really shouldn't be smoking this in here."
"Guess that legs not busted as bad as people thought," Imoen observed.
"Little slower than I used to be, but I get around okay."
"Well enough to catch all those pets?"
"Just had to lure them here, set a few traps. It was easy."
"But why do it?"
"See, my father was a hero; a knight. And his father before him, and his father before him and so on and so forth. Me? I don't have a son... not likely to now. Slags round here won't even look at me... all I've got is this legacy, see?"
"Not really... I mean, I get you tried to stand up to those bandits. That was heroic; I'm sure your father would have been proud."
"Nah... my father would have seen me as a failure, same as they all do."
"I'm sure that's not true..."
"What the hell do you know?" Percival eyes bulged in anger. "You weren't here; you didn't watch it happen like they all did. Oh, yeah... just like now, they just locked themselves indoors and waited for it to blow over. Not one of them cowards came to help me... and then, after, have they ever thanked me for trying to protect their quivering asses? Never! All I get is pity... I don't want their stinking pity!"
"So what do you want? A plaque? Statue? A school named after you?"
"Something like that," Percy relaxed himself and grinned. "What, you gonna tell me that heroes, real heroes, don't do it for the recognition? I reckon that's a load of crap; you want medals, the adulation...don't know about your elf friend there, but we humans only have a short time in this world. It's all about leaving behind a legacy."
"Well... it is nice to have some fans," Imoen admitted, "gotta watch out for the weird ones though... caught a boy pinching my laundry once. He wanted my knickers."
"So... the quotation," Aerie said in a desperate bid to stay on topic. "'Pity the land that breeds no heroes...?'"
"'Pity the land that needs them,'" Percy smirked, "it's true, don't you think? If people don't need heroes, then its because there are no monsters or villains to threaten them, and all those cowards who don't stick up for themselves or anyone else would have nothing to worry about. Heroes need monsters."
"And so... s-since you think you failed to be a hero..."
"I'll be a villain," he grinned.
"What are you going to do?" Imoen asked.
"Nah... I'm not going to tell you my evil plan. I just needed you to know the why. Suffice to say, they're all huddled together in that hall hoping, praying for dawn to come. But when it does... it will be their last."
"Come on, Billy... you can do this!" Imoen said, trying to encourage the goat to gnaw through her ropes. It started to a while ago, but now it was just licking her, or so it seemed. "Come on... you're not with him, are you? He keeps you prisoner here..."
"I-is it true, what he said?" Aerie asked, "d-do you worry about your legacy? How you'll be remembered?"
"Nah, not really," Imoen sighed, "I guess some people do, but I don't really see the point. I mean, nothing we do is going to last forever anyway, so we might as well just enjoy here and now."
"Yes... t-that makes sense. Although, Nalia does say we ought to be more ambitious."
"I am ambitious. What about my plan for a Drizzt themed holiday camp? And they'll be lots of little Catti-Brie's to show people around and you'll get to ride Bruenor's Battlehammer..."
"She says you're childish, too..."
"She can shut up! I'll smack her face when I see her," Imoen was more concerned however about the goat had made so little progress. She could feel its tongue in her hands, or at least something warm and wet. "What's wrong with this thing?" She craned her neck round to see, and then, looking somewhat unhappy, turned towards the elf. "Aerie... why didn't you tell me that the goat had turned around?"
"I was preoccupied," the blonde sniggered impishly.
"I... am going to kill you, I think... yeah, that's what I'm going to do..."
"I-in that case," the elf grinned as she lifted her hands up, "I guess it wouldn't be wise of me to untie you as well."
"How...?"
"There were some nails sticking out over here."
"You... fine, I won't kill ya... yet. Just get me out, and then find a bucket of water and some soap."
Once they were free, and Imoen's plans for vengeance on hold for the time being, they went to see what was in the barrels. Percy had said he shouldn't have been smoking that pipe in here, and they saw why; the barrels were full of alchemical materials... a little spark have blown them all into a different plane.
"There must be a basement or cellar beneath the village hall," Imoen reasoned, "he's got them all to gather in place, and then... he's going to blow it up."
"W-why didn't he kill us when he had a chance?" Aerie asked. It had been bothering Imoen for a while too, but now it all made sense.
"He wants the recognition... and for that, he needs witnesses. All right; you go get the mayor. Tell him to get all the people out of there... I'm going to find Percival."
She found him. It wasn't easy finding the door to the cellar; it had been covered by boxes of stuff. But she did, and he was in it, tinderbox in hand. The door creaked when it was opened, so she wasn't able to sneak up on him. Soon as he saw her he started trying to light the powder trail he'd made. Imoen whipped out a wand, sending an orb crashing into his arm. He gasped, dropping the box and scurrying back behind the barrels, Imoen was in pursuit when she paused and took hold of her situation...
Crap... he must have been planning this for months. There were dozens of barrels, piled up all around the room. If she kept throwing magic around in here she could set it off...
He lunged at her... must have crawled round to come at her from the other side. She narrowly avoided the blow, and falling back she kicked out, striking him in the chest. He grunted, but kept coming at her. Imoen was able to avoid him, but he kept moving forward so aggressively that she was unable to counter attack. Even her stamina wasn't limitless though, and after a while of dancing around him dodging his wild lunges she started to tire and eventually was caught and sent back, her head bouncing off the brickwork.
"Good guys don't always win," Percival sneered, picking up and striking the tinderbox.
"No," Imoen agreed, rubbing her head as she slowly got up, "but then, I didn't really have to win the fight. Just had to keep you occupied."
"Huh?" He paused, looking at her questioningly
"By now, Aerie's told the mayor what's happening and everyone's gotten well away. It's over, Percy. There's no point in carrying on with this now."
He looked at her. Then he looked at the tinderbox. Then he started grinning and striking it.
"Are you crazy?" Imoen gasped. "They're all gone! There's no point..."
"You're wrong," he laughed, "they'll never ignore me again after this. They will remember this... always..."
He was crazy... Imoen could do no more than shake her head sadly as she watched the sparks of the ignited powder trail while he knelt and laughed. There was no saving him; no time to. She had to run as fast she could...
"Imoen?" Aerie and the villagers were all outside like she'd hoped.
"Run!" Imoen shouted urgently. "Everyone, run! Don't stop... trust me!"
There was a little bit of confusion, but soon everyone was moving hastily away from the hall. Luckily most of the villagers had already had the sense to start putting some distance between themselves and it.
It was about a minute later when the explosion lit up the sky. By then everyone had gotten behind some of the other houses, although it was still a miracle that no one got hurt by flying debris. Imoen and Aerie used their magic to help put out the flames which danced and lashed into the morning.
"What happened to him?" Aerie said, wiping some of the ash away from her face with her forearm. "He wanted to be a good man at one point... a-a hero..."
"Yeah... but he wanted it for the wrong reasons," Imoen sighed.
"What... w-what causes people to go wrong like that?"
"Don't know, Aerrers. Don't think anyone does... not really. It's not a particularly satisfying answer, but it's the truth. Life's just complicated."
"I suppose so," the elf bowed her head sadly.
"Don't dwell on it too much. Fancy a game, now?"
"What game?"
"Noughts and crosses? C'mon... there's no way I could cheat at that."
"Hmmm... well, we'll see, won't we?"