Disappointment Chapter 2: Orphaned Again: Day 1
The sound of the gates slamming shut weighed heavy on Jeral's mind. For years, he had dreamed about walking freely beyond the walls of his fortress home and now he finally was doing exactly that. However a sense of foreboding still hung heavy in the air. Jeral was overcome with conflicting emotions as excitement and concern battled one another in his head. Jeral numbly walked along in a haze until his father broke the silence. His tone of voice made it clear that concern was the appropriate emotion for the moment. Without breaking stride Gorion addressed his foster son.
"Child, if we are ever separated, head for the Friendly Arm Inn to the north along the Coastal Way. There you will meet Khalid and Jaheira; they are old friends of mine and will aid you as best they can. There is no time for questions now; I will answer each and every one of your inquiries when there is time. If we walk all night we should be at the inn by breakfast."
Softening his tone Gorion continued, "They have excellent pancakes, I highly recommend them. They are particularly good with the berry preserve. It is a specialty of the inn."
They continued on in silence and walked east into the growing darkness. Jeral repeatedly tried to engage in Gorion in conversation but Gorion brusquely rebuffed each and every attempts. Gorion moved briskly, taking long sure strides into the night. Despite his age he showed no signs of fatigue and clearly was familiar with nighttime navigation in the woods. Despite the rapid pace Jeral easily managed to match the long strides of the elderly mage. Gorion had always stressed the need for physical fitness, both for him and Imoen. Jeral's life had been filled with physical exercise that sometimes was almost as challenging as his military studies. And worse than both were the piano, dance and singing lessons, Jeral had hated those singing lessons with a passion.
Jeral thought back on the training of his youth. For all the lessons, Jeral had never been able to sing at all. Despite his lack of singing ability, Gorion was insistent that he had a thorough and well rounded education.
A well educated mind and a good heart will always be your greatest weapons, Jeral.
Gorion said that each and every time Jeral complained about his studies over the years.
After a few hours Gorion stopped walking and gripped his staff firmly in both hands. His body tensed as he looked into the darkness and Gorion's staff suddenly crackled with magical energy.
"Make ready child, for we are in ambush."
Jeral could not see anything, but trusted his father's instincts implicitly. Jeral slowly drew his long sword and prepared for combat. The pair stood at the western edge of a small clearing in the woods. Gorion muttered a few words and bright mage lights sprung into being and floated up into the air, illuminating the area in a ghostly pale blue light.
Approximately 40 feet away stood four figures. Two were large, hideously ugly creatures clad in layers of furs and wielding massive spiked clubs. From his studies Jeral instantly recognized them as Ogres. The third figure was a lithe, attractive, dark skinned woman in form fitting plate mail and holding a mace and small shield.
The fourth figure was a mountain of a man, probably six and a half feet tall, almost as broad as the ogres and adorned in black plate mail with long metal spikes protruding from various locations on the armor and helmet. He wielded a massive two handed sword that gleamed evilly in the magical light. The heavily armored warrior had the symbol for Bhaal, the former God of death, on the chest of his armor. Both the eyes on the symbol of Bhaal and of the armored man glowed with a golden intensity. If all that was not bizarre enough there was the final fact that Jeral felt like he somehow knew the armored man. Some small voice in his head told him that this man was part of his destiny.
The armored man spoke directly to Gorion, his voice deep and clear: "You are very perceptive for an old man. Hand over your ward and you will not be harmed. Crawl back to that castle of yours and live out your few remaining days. You are of no interest to me."
"I would be a fool to trust you. The child stays with me. If you turn away now I will spare your lives."
Gorion had thrown back his traveling cloak and the mage robes underneath fairly crackled with magical energy. With a flick of his wrist a blue haze enveloped both Jeral and Gorion as the wizard cast protective spells on both of them.
With a start Jeral realized that the massive warrior across the clearing was assuredly the "great warrior" of Gorion's visions. Gorion has misunderstood the seer's vision. This man and not Jeral was destined to play a major role in Gorion's life. A sense of dread settled over Jeral. That major role assuredly meant that Gorion would die this very night. Jeral realized that his father was already dead, and everyone in the clearing knew it.
As if on some preplanned signal the four sprang into action. The Ogres lumbered directly for Gorion and their roars were terrifying to hear. The armored man calmly walked towards Gorion following behind the Ogres. The woman stood there and made eye contact with Jeral. At that point he saw a flash in the woman's hands and knew it was coming for him. He knew enough magic to recognize an acid arrow spell when it was targeted at him. He quickly went into a roll and then dove behind a tree. Right before he reached the safety of the tree he felt a searing pain in his shoulder. He had been hit. Some fragment of the spell has managed to pierce Gorion's magical protections and struck him a glancing blow.
Only his considerable dexterity and Gorion's protective spells spared him from more serious damage. The blood spurted from his left shoulder as he dropped his sword and worked to staunch the flow with his right hand. From his vantage point behind the tree he saw Gorion slam his staff into the ground. A lighting bolt leapt from the staff and burned into the chest of one of the Ogres, is then bounced to the chest of the second one and then disappeared into the darkness on the woods.
I just saw a chain lightning spell, Jeral thought as he watched in wonder at Gorion's magical prowess. Both Ogres fell to the ground dead with large smoking holes in their chests.
Gorion looked directly at Jeral, "Run child, you know what you must do!"
Gorion's face was hard but softened when he looked at his adoptive son before turning back to face his attackers. The large armored man had closed with Gorion. Gorion quickly uttered a few words and six copies of the elderly mage appeared at his sides. He then launched spell after spell at the armored man. Fire, lightening, acid and other forms of magical energies poured from Gorion's hands leaving the clearing a mass of scortched earth. Despite the awesome magical energies he wielded his spells seemed to have little effect on the giant warrior. The warrior appeared impervious to all magical effects. It was clearly only a matter of time before Gorion fell.
Gorion continued to lash out with spell after spell and the armored man barely noticed any of them as he steadily hacked through Gorion's mirror images. Jeral stood transfixed with terror. He could not abandon Gorion but what could he do? The woman slowly moved towards Jeral, her mace held at the ready. Jeral had spent enough time around fighters in Candlekeep to recognize that this woman was very dangerous and that he was no match for her. The image of her standing over his bloody and battered body flashed into his head. Gorion turned away from his opponent and launched a spell at the woman. She screamed and collapsed to the ground. Jerad did not know if she was alive or dead but prayed that Gorion had killed her.
"I will not say it again child, RUN!"
Just as Gorion had shouted the last word the large man's sword buried itself in Gorion's unprotected chest. With a gurgled sigh Gorion slowly fell to the ground as the armored man watched Gorion slowly slide off his sword leaving a trail of blood dripping off the blade.
"NO!"
Jeral screamed and jumped from behind the tree, he knew he was no match for this mighty warrior but he had to do something. He hurled one throwing knife and then a second at the armored man. The large warrior did not move and Jeral's blades bounced ineffectually of his armor.
"Come here boy. It will be over quickly. I promise. I have done this many times."
The man advanced on Jeral with his bloody sword held low to his side. Jeral stood transfixed as he watched blood - Gorion's blood - drip off the weapon. Shaking his head and forcing himself to focus Jeral reached into one of his belt pouches and pulled out a handful of caltrops. He flung them on the ground in front of his attacker. The large man lumbered forward and suddenly stopped and howled in pain as he hopped on one leg. He had stepped right on one of the caltrops and it had punched through the thinly armored boot and buried deep into his foot. Roaring in pain the dark warrior dropped his sword and hopped on one leg as he clumsily tried to take the barb of metal out of his foot.
Jeral picked up his sword and started to advance on the warrior. He had not made it three steps when he realized that the large man was just acting helpless to draw Jeral in close. Realizing he had no chance in combat against the plate clad warrior Jeral turned to flee. Jeral sprinted into the darkness to the south as fast as his legs would carry him. The tears were streaming down his face as he ran.
As Gorion lay on the ground knowing he had mere seconds to live, his final thoughts were ones of intense pride over the fact that Jeral had the presence of mind to lay down caltrops in the face of an advancing killer.
"I love you son, maybe you will be a great and powerful bard after all."
With those last words, and a smile on his face, Gorion of Candlekeep died.
The loss of Gorion replayed itself in Jeral's mind as he ran. As the miles passed he slowed to a jog and eventually, to a walk. The loss of his father had been replaced by fear for his own life. However, as dawn approached that fear was replaced by anger and a thirst for revenge. Someday, somehow, Jeral would see that large man die at his own hand. Gorion would be avenged. But first Jeral knew he needed to gain skill and experience. In addition he would need powerful allies to help him gain his revenge. It would take time but Jeral knew it would happen.
After a few hours Jeral realized he needed to find a place to sleep for the night. He climbed up into a nearby tree, wedged himself into the crook of the branch of the tree as best he could and settled down for a few hours of fitful sleep. It was a long time until he finally could put the vision of Gorion impaled on a sword from his head.