Author note: Hello, kind readers! This is a crossover between Baldur's Gate and the 2010 movie "Black Death". It's set six months after the end of Throne of Bhaal and there are two original characters of my creation: the first one is Margaret Dawn Delryn (Bhaalspawn and Anomen's wife), a female human Painbearer of Ilmater of Neutral Good alignment; the second one is Sekhmet Odesseiron (Edwin's cousin), a female human Firewalker of Kossuth of True Neutral alignment. I also created Sekhmet's portrait and used it as the story cover.
I want to reassure you that, even if Jan Jansen is among the characters, there will only be one story told by him in full. All the others will be cut short one way or another, so please, don't write off this fanfic just because of his presence.
Disclaimer: I don't own either the characters of "Black Death", or the NPCs of Baldur's Gate. I only own my original characters Margaret Dawn Delryn and Sekhmet Odesseiron.
oxoxoxoxoxo
The forest was shrouded in oppressive silence, which was suddenly broken by some voices rapidly approaching. The seven fighters saw a group of strangely dressed people emerging from the trees in front of them and readied their weapons, while the monk Osmund, their young guide, stepped back and prepared to hide somewhere safe. One of the newcomers, a seven-feet-tall tower of a man with dark skin and amber eyes, wearing a strange red armour, was scowling furiously, "I don't care about your third-removed cousin, I want to know where in the Nine Hells you sent us, you blasted Gnome!", he growled, looking over his broad shoulders and glaring at someone behind him.
"Now, now, Binky, no need to be grumpy", a nasal voice replied in a conciliatory tone, "I may have made a little mistake in setting the coordinates, but if Immy here hadn't distracted me to show me her new pink...". "Just tell me where we are and for the last time, DON'T CALL ME BINKY!". "Sure thing, Binky, sure thing. And to answer your question, I have no idea whatsoever of where we are".
The man sighed with a pained expression and the fair-skinned woman at his side, who was nearly six feet tall, with blond curly hair and emerald-green eyes and wore an armour that was a nearly exact copy of his, chuckled, "Come on, big brother, calm down: we'll simply have to ask for information and once we know our exact location, we can go home", she said soothingly.
Meanwhile Ulric, the leader of the mercenaries, a tall man with broad shoulders and a strong build, shoulder length honey-brown hair matted with sweat and hard blue eyes, walked up to the strangers, sword at the ready, "Who are you, to have such unnaturally colored eyes? Are you a demon?". The dark-skinned stranger arched an eyebrow, unimpressed by the sword pointed at his chest, "Do I look like a demon to you?". The nasal voice came again from behind his back, "Well, now don't take it the wrong way, Binky, but...". "I TOLD YOU...Oh, Hells, I give up", he sighed again, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation, "Call me Binky, if you like it so much, Gnome".
"Ha! I knew you liked my little nickname for you, Binky!", the speaker walked forward and Ulric saw with astonishment that he was only four feet tall, had a very big nose and wore what looked like a purple and orange dress. "A dwarf?", the knight said, stunned, but the short man sniffed as if offended.
"I'll have you know that I am a Gnome, good sir, not a Dwarf! No Dwarf could ever have such a big nose as mine, don't you agree? Well, unless, of course, they had some Gnomish blood in them", he added pensively, "You know, this reminds me of Edgar Allan Jansen, my great-grandfather's fourth-removed cousin, on my mother's side of course, who...". As the Gnome kept on rambling, Ulric blinked and instinctively looked at the two Humans in front of himself, completely at a loss, "What is this?".
"Err, that's Jan Jansen, he likes talking", she answered with an apologetic smile, "And I'm Margaret Dawn Delryn and this is my big brother, Sarevok Anchev. Behind us are our other companions: the girl with the pink-dyed hair is Imoen Winthrop, our sister". Imoen, clad in her bright pink Aeger Hide suit, came out from behind a tree and waved a hand with a big grin, "Heya! How's it going?".
"And the one with the red robe is Sekhmet Odesseiron", Meg pointed to her left, to an olive-skinned, dark-haired Human woman dressed in a long crimson robe, who smiled warmly at Ulric. "A pleasure to meet you, good sir", Sekhmet purred, playing with her golden pendant, which sported a Flamedance stone encased in it.
"And last but not least, sir Anomen Delryn, my husband", the Painbearer indicated a fair-skinned man a bit taller than herself, with dark brown wavy hair and grey-blue eyes, who wore a peculiar black armour, seemingly made of scales. This time, Ulric perked up, "Sir? So you are a knight too?", he asked, relaxing slightly and sheathing his sword.
Anomen smiled widely and nodded, walking forward to clasp his forearm in a gesture of friendship, "A knight of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart, yes". "I see. I have never heard of it, but I am glad of meeting a brother in faith", the terrestrial knight said, returning his clasp, "I am sir Ulric, knight in the service of God and envoy to the bishop. This one is our guide, Osmund", he gestured to the young dark-haired monk.
One by one, he introduced his other companions: Wolfstan, a man with shoulder length black hair already streaked with white and kind black eyes; Ivo, shorter than his companions, who had long russet hair coming out of a leather cowl; Griff, with a kind smile, pale skin and short grey hair; Dalywag, with a slimy smile that missed a tooth and short curly brown hair; Mold, short and stocky, with black moustache and a shaved head; and Swire, older than Osmund, but younger than all of the others in his group, with a long black braid that dangled past his shoulders and a cheeky smirk curving his lips.
Sekhmet coughed, "Uh, pleased to meet you, gentlemen. Now that introductions are out of the way, can you please tell us where we are?". Ulric blinked, "Why, you are in England, of course". She bit her lower lip, troubled, "England...Yes, it rings a bell. Earth, if I recall correctly", she nodded to herself and suddenly bent over and slapped Jan on the back of the head two times, "This is for sending us to the wrong plane of existence! And this is for trying to peek under my robe again!".
"Ow! OW! No need to resort to violence, my dear", Jan pouted, rubbing the painful spot, "And I was merely trying to keep the hem of your lovely robe from getting dirty". "Yeah, sure"."Nice panties, by the way. I would have never guessed that they were made of pink lace, but they suit you". "KHAAAAAANNN!", she screamed in pure frustration, "Meg, can I kill him? Please? Pretty pretty pretty please with sugar and chocolate and whipped cream on top?".
Meg shook her head, amused, "Sorry, my friend, but we need him to go home". "Oh. Okay, so...After we're back home and we don't need him anymore, can I kill him then?". Sarevok laughed, "Don't count on it: I've begged her many times to allow me to get rid of that pest, but to no avail". Anomen nodded with a wistful sigh, "Yes, me too".
Osmund stepped hesitantly forward, always making sure to keep himself slightly behind Ulric, "Where are you from? Are you from France?", he asked, while his eyes wandered of their own will over the lovely forms of the three women. "Well, no, we're from Toril. We used a Dimension Door, but it wasn't supposed to drop us here: we were trying to go to Sigil, you see", the Ilmatari explained, "An old friend of ours invited us to her wedding...But I have the feeling we won't be in time". Jan looked guiltily at his feet, "Eh, I'm afraid you're right, Your Loveliness: even if I know that we're on Earth, I don't have enough components left to open the door again".
Sarevok clenched his fists, his expression saying loud and clear that he wanted nothing more than to strangle the inventor, "And what are we supposed to do, then?". "We simply have to collect some of that stuff", Sekhmet said, "It won't be that hard, don't worry". "How can you be so sure of it?". "Did you know that my ancestors, the Mulhorandi, originally came from this plane? Not from England, of course, but still, they were native of Earth and their descendants now count among them the Red...", she cut herself off and shot a wary glance at the bishop's envoy, "Well, you know who I'm talking about. Maybe it's just wishful thinking on my part, but I feel confident that we'll find what we need".
"Let's hope so", Imoen said, checking a strand of her hair critically, "I need some stuff to make my hair-dye: the brown is already showing through. Heya, Ulric, is there a ma...". The woman in the red robe hastily cut her off, "A map! A map to find the way to the nearest village. Do you know if there is a village nearby?".
He nodded, "Yes and we are headed right there. But I warn you, it is protected by a demon, the leader of the villagers is a witch and there is also a necromancer living there. If the rumours are true, at least". Anomen's eyebrows shot up in surprise, "You're going to fight a Demon? Then we can help...We will help, right, my love?", he asked Meg and she nodded. "Of course! We have a nice amount of experience in fighting Demons, after all".
Sekhmet paled, "Errr, I...Meg, can we talk? In private?". "Sure", the Ilmatari nodded and moved to a secluded spot with her friend, "What's wrong?". "I think Mr. Hot Stuff over there is a witch-hunter. From what I've heard about this plane, they hate magic. And when I say hate, I mean that every woman who is even suspected of being a witch...", she shuddered, "Well, let's just say, even Irenicus would be horrified by the things these guys do to those poor souls. And most of us are magic-users".
Margaret Dawn gulped, "That's not good news". "Yeah. We must find a nice way to take our leave, before...", the Firewalker of Kossuth cut herself off and groaned, when she saw Anomen and Sarevok conversing friendly with the mercenaries, "Oh, Hells, men and their Godsdamned camaraderie! Ten seconds and they're already best friends with these strangers! Now we're officially screwed"."I'll instruct our companions to be careful, but we have no choice...Besides, I already gave my word to sir Ulric".
"Let's hope we'll survive the travel, then", Sekhmet muttered, but her frown eased as she looked the envoy of the bishop up and down appreciatively, "Well, at least I'll get to spend some time with Mr Hot Stuff". "I'm glad to see you looking at the bright side of it". "Actually, I'm looking at Ulric's backside", she winked with a mischievous grin and Meg laughed. "Speaking of Ulric...He and Griff are ill", the Thayan added, sobering. "I know. And we could heal them, but if we did...". "They would consider us witches and tear us to pieces. Or try to, anyway", she sighed, "We must find a way to heal them without them finding us out".
Imoen joined the two women and frowned at seeing their faces so serious, "Heya, what's up? Why the long faces? We're gonna find a way to go home soon, you'll see!". "Easier said than done, Immy", the Painbearer replied, "We can't use our magic here, or they will turn on us". The pink-haired thief bit her lower lip, her good mood vanishing, "Worse than in Amn?". "If Sekhmet is right, it's much, much worse, yes". "Figures", she muttered sulkily, "Never some stroke of good luck for us, nossir! I wonder what we have done for Tymora to hate us so much!".
"I doubt she has anything to do with this. Anyway, maybe you can help us: we need to find a way to heal two of those guys without them noticing", Meg said, "Any ideas?". Imoen thought about it for a moment, "Well...Maybe Jan can tell them stories about his relatives, griffins and turnips, until they pass out for the boredom?".
The Firewalker crossed her arms on her chest and shot her friend an annoyed glance, "We're trying to be serious here". "Sheeesh, okay, okay! Shoulda known an Odesseiron wouldn't have any sense of humour at all", the pink head grumbled. "Hey, I heard that!". "Heard what? I didn't say anything", she smiled innocently, "Anyway, I think a sleep spell could...". Margaret Dawn shook her head, "No spells in front of them, I told you".
"Uff. Alright, so...Something in the food?". She mulled over it, "Yes...Yes, that will work perfectly. Jon did the same to us, when he knocked us out cold in Spellhold: he had Havarian put a component in the crab soup and when we reached the asylum, all that was left to do was to say the triggering word. We fell asleep like this", she snapped her fingers, nodding to herself. "I do have the necessary ingredient, but if I put it in the food, it will affect you too", Imoen reminded her friends. "No problem, I will simply say that I don't feel like eating and...", Meg started to say, but the Thayan cut her off.
"Forget it, I will do it. I don't have to worry about the effects of the component: I have an amulet to protect me exactly from that kind of things", she smiled and showed them her ruby bracelet, each stone of which was engraved with protective runes, "It was a gift from Edwin, for my admission as an acolyte at the Temple of Kossuth". "Aaawww, how sweet of him!", the thief grinned, "So Eddie is really a big softie, after all!". "I wouldn't say that to his face, if I were you", the Kossuthan warned her, but her full lips curved in a grin of her own, "But just between us...Yes, he can be very sweet when he wants to".