Gentle Readers, many thanks for giving an eye to this wee tale. May you have a great week ahead! :)
THE HIDDEN SWORD: A TALE OF BALDUR'S GATE
Book One : From the Earth | Chapter 5 – Not Rocks!
She had finally worked up the courage to ask for directions. Unfortunately, she gathered enough versions to make oneself doubt that they were even in the same city. And all from people in the same street.
Walk one block, then turn left, then left again at d' end o' that block, then left. Keep left-in'.
Wouldn't I be walking in circles?
Rude girl! You don't live here! You think you know better than me!
I'm sorry… Ma'am. An annoyed emphasis on the salutation. But wouldn't I be walking in circles?
Now that's better! … No.
Aww! Poor elf! Must be scary being out of the woods and away from your tree friends, eh?
I don't li-… tree friends?
Do I look like the bloody Fist? Go bother them instead!
I cannot, Sir. I haven't been stabbed in the face. Yet.
Straight ye be walkin' in yonder course now. To the docks maybe ye won't go, but come to the sea ye will somehow.
But I'm not going to the sea. I'm going to the river.
Well, they be both water anyways!
Eventually, someone, a stall owner, managed to give her what could pass for proper directions. She thanked the woman, casting longing glances at the skewered pork roasting over the brazier between them. Almost tempted to grab one of the spits and run but the meat was still raw. Irse clutched at her stomach, rubbing it in the hopes of muffling the angry gurgling.
Weary feet, worried steps, and an empty belly. The elf shuffled listlessly along the narrow street, hunger clouding her vision that she didn't notice a furry little blur darting into her path until it was too late.
Her foot inadvertently kicked a small yet weighty body.
"Sorry, kitty!" Irse excused herself as she bent down to look at the…
Huge rat, with black matted fur and nearly the size of a small cat. It stood on its hind legs and hissed, offended, then scampered away to disappear into a nearby alley.
The elf blinked in disbelief. She raised a foot, about to move on when the sound of a barrel overturning, metal clinking, and bottles breaking emanated from the backstreet.
Darned thing must've run into stuff and knocked it over.
"This whole dive's got too many vermin already! We don't need your kind startin' any nests here!"
It came from the same alley. At the man's words, she jerked in disgust and unconsciously scratched her arm in revulsion. Are the rats in this city so numerous, its citizens could not help but talk at them in frustration?
"Deekin no vermin! Deekin no live in nest, only wants dry hole to sleeps in."
And are they so huge they actually talk back?!
Curiosity egged her to peek into the alleyway. The giant rat already sat perched on another barrel, cleaning itself meticulously, perhaps of contact with the elf.
But the man, greasy face and greasy clothes, had been speaking to someone, or rather, something else. He towered over a small hooded figure no higher than his waist. From beneath its raggedy cloak a spotted narrow tail poked out curled, and the creature hunched trembling beside a burlap sack twice its size.
"Hah, so this one can talk? How's 'bout I sell you to some freakshow, make enough coin for a pint!" the man sneered as he reached down to grab the cowled little creature.
"No! Don't sell Deekin! He not worth much!" the hooded little figure begged. But the brute roughly grabbed it anyway, hauling it to its feet. The creature wriggled in the man's grasp and struggled pathetically to reach for its sack as if its very life were in its belongings.
"Please don't hurt Deekin! Deekin mean no harm to anyone!" it cried piteously.
Its frightened yips filled the alley, high-pitched whines like a distressed pup. Irse turned away and leaned against the wall, clutching at the collar of her tunic. Clearly none of her business, one of those things that happen to anyone, any day, out of reach of anyone's care. And the creature wasn't even human.
Walk away now, enough problems for today, get back to going back to the docks before you forget the directions.
But whatever it was, it was clearly alone, unarmed. And scared. A brief memory of the same helplessness, fear, and smallness pricked at her heart. Not too long ago. With a deep breath, she pulled the bokken from her pack and stepped in.
"Hey! Leave him alone! Pick on someone your own size!" Irse shouted as she brandished the stick.
The thug turned to look at her, dropping the creature to the ground. "What, you pals with this li'l shite? You in some gang, huh?" he sneered.
He advanced, rubbing his fists. The girl stepped back, her grip evidently shaky on the weapon. Holding the bokken with both hands, she stiffened her arms and raised the wooden sword higher in front of her.
Was she holding the stance correctly? Perhaps it wouldn't matter now as Okami wasn't there to tell her – what with him being far away and at the docks this very moment. At the docks where she could have been safe and not facing down a stranger in a dark alley. Too late to back out now.
The man lunged at her. She inelegantly stepped to the side and brought down the stick at his shoulder. Wood connected with muscle – yet the blow landed unsure, not strong enough. He staggered forward past the elf, clutching his shoulder, but stayed on his feet. He spun around to face her, the ire clear upon his oily face.
Irse now stood between the thug and the little creature. "Run! Run!" she shouted at it. But when she craned her neck to look, it was gone, the top of its pack thrown open. Hopefully off to call for help – but would the Fist even notice something so small and timid?
He rushed at her again. But before Irse could raise her bokken, the man suddenly froze in his tracks. Frozen – eyes bulging in surprise, mouth open wide in a grimace, fingers splayed as if grabbing at the air before him.
"Hmph! That should teach bad human a lesson!" the creature sniggered.
Already standing by her side, its tiny clawed hand clutched a wand that it pointed at the man. As the creature lifted its gaze to her, its hood fell back revealing a lizard-like snout, scaly gray skin, a row of short horn-like bumps running across the top of its head.
The elf's eyes widened. "Oh, hello?" she greeted hesitantly as she let down the wooden sword. What is this strange thing?
Beady little eyes narrowed at her. "What? You not seen kobold before? Deekin not surprised. Elfs walk tall, nose in air, never look if one not pretty like them. But you, you helped Deekin! Nice elf girl…," he said as he canted his diminutive head. "… with chewed up pointy ear? Who did that? Bad human too?"
"Uh, yes, a bad human. But not all of them are bad. Sometimes we're unlucky we run into the rotten ones. But there's a lot of good people out there, too."
Deekin tucked the wand into his cloak. "Right, right you are. Bad humans, good humans. But Deekin wishes it were easy to tell. Wishes they say first they're bad before they kick or pull the tail so Deekin don't have to ask!"
The elf nodded in sad agreement. If only the world worked in such manner – and one always learned it wasn't so in the hardest way.
The kobold shuffled over to his pack which appeared to be bursting at the seams. Deekin hastily stuffed the wand inside yet pulled out several items and dumped them on the ground.
"Are you looking for someone here at the Gate?" Irse asked.
The pile beside the sack grew steadily as the kobold yanked out and tossed scrolls, wands, daggers, a sword or two, a helmet, a bottle…
"No, Deekin only passing through. Deekin come from near Waterdeep. Climbs into wagon to hide from the rain, sleeps in a crate of nice warm hay. Sleep too well so next thing you know, Deekin already in a ship to Baldur's Gate! Takes him far too south! Now Deekin looking for wagon to take him back north. No more ships!" the kobold squeaked as he pulled up a fur-trimmed boot and carelessly chucked it at the heap.
"Found it!" Deekin cried triumphantly. He proudly held up a ring, a simple metal band crusty with patina. "Wizard say this is ring to make you invisible. Deekin wears this, and jumps into wagon, no one will bother and throw Deekin out."
With unnatural swiftness, the kobold gathered most of the things into his arms and managed to stuff everything back into the bag. A few swipes at the remaining bottles and scrolls and then these were tossed back into the pack as well.
"Well, good for you," Irse laughed as she tucked the bokken in her own pack. "Be careful out there, Mr. Deekin. I hope you get back to wherever you're going, safe and in one piece." Tail and snout and all. She gave the kobold a quick bow and made to leave the alley.
"Wait, elf girl! Deekin not give you reward yet!"
She circled around to reply. "Really, there's no need for that. You stopped him anyway; I didn't do much at all."
"No, no! Deekin wants to!" the kobold insisted, waving its skinny scaly arms to beckon at the elf. She obliged and walked back to him. Deekin tapped at his snout, grunting in high pitches as he seemed wracked by indecision.
"But what to give you? Must give you the best, most magical knickknack! And the heaviest too, make it easy for Deekin to carry stuffs," he giggle-yipped. The elf raised an eyebrow.
"Ah-ha! Maybe elf girl can choose?" the kobold offered as he opened his pack and started rummaging again.
"Please, no. It's not necessary," Irse objected, genuinely embarrassed. Gorion would have scolded her for even agreeing to accept anything from anyone who didn't seem to have much themselves.
"Or elf girl pick but no peeking?"
She knitted her brow, puzzled. "All right?"
"Close your eyes, close your eyes!" Deekin barked excitedly.
She squatted before the kobold and shut her eyes, humming as she waited, her frown deepening at the sounds of indistinguishable rattling, thumping, and yipping.
"Now you choose – left, right, middle."
Irse reached out her hand and wriggled her fingers. Where should she go? Left? Right? Middle? Why not simply pick anything, make it a gamble? No, this was still a choice and it has to count.
Wait, how would Gorion choose? How would Okami choose?
Her foster father would probably say to choose with her conscience – or some such, however that could work. Her Teacher would most likely say to choose with her instinct – however that could work too, and then spout off another unrelated Kozakuran proverb just for good measure.
Her mind buzzed with arguments – not too unlike the monks squabbling over their studies during supper or at the gardens. Pick the left – but why, just because? The right, for what reason, because she's right-handed? Or the middle, because the straight-ahead path is always the correct one?
"Elfs live hundreds and hundreds of years. They wait hundreds and hundreds of years to choose too?" Deekin complained.
"I'm sorry. Give me a minute, please," Irse apologized, her eyes still closed. This was becoming frustrating. A simple choice, but one she couldn't make herself so easily. The debates were getting louder.
Quiet! She demanded, inside. And breathed. And felt nothing, thought nothing. The world outside the alley whirled on, footsteps and conversations passing by and then gone. Nothing.
And in that nothing, her hand moved of its own accord, drawn by an unseen string vibrating. To her left.
Irse opened her eyes. In disbelief, she glanced at the choices she had passed over. To her right – a gilded crossbow, in the middle in front of her – an ornamented short sword.
And to her left where her right hand hovered above – four of the plainest looking rocks one could find by the side of the road.
Before her shoulders could sag in disappointment, the kobold clapped his hands and leaped over and over in excitement.
"Elf girl made the best choice! She must have choosing magic!"
"Rocks?" Irse asked politely, though with effort.
He gathered the stones and held them up for her to see. "Kurtulmak! They're not rocks, they're meteorites! Stones from the sky! One night, Deekin saw them fall like dragonfire, then followed them to where they made big burning hole in the ground!"
She placed a hand upon her mouth, amazed. Meteorites. Brother Karan had mentioned these – objects from the heavens beyond Toril, journeying through the stars until drawn to this world's atmosphere.
Deekin placed the meteorites in her hands and gave her a small sack to carry them in. Dusky gray with flecks of red, surface twisted and pocked in some places, and surprisingly heavier than their size would suggest.
So these were the very things that shoot down from the sky in a brilliant yet brief streak of light. Stars that carried her wishes as she sat upon the tower roof in Candlekeep, gazing wistfully at the moon in his beauty gliding across the firmament above the Sea of Swords.
"But these are rare! They must be valuable. I can't accept these, you might need them more than I do," Irse protested as she tried to give them back. The kobold waved his hands dismissively.
"No, no! Deekin keep trying to sell but everyone thinks Deekin not saying the truth," the kobold said dejectedly.
"Now Deekin gots no use for them, but still too precious to throw at stupid gnomes!"
She stared at the rocks in her palms, tightening her grip in one hand while rubbing her other thumb across the surface of another. She wouldn't know what to do with them either, but the mere thought of holding a piece of the heavens in one's hands was already incredible in itself.
Perhaps she could hang on to them, give them to Gorion, Imoen, and Karan as presents. Well, knowing them knowing her, they would likely insist she was sporting with them and giving them mere chunks of coal. But Gorion, the sage, would surely identify them to be real for he knew much knowledge and required her to learn them.
Required her to learn of many things and all, except for the truth.
She paused for a moment, and forcefully exhaled to expel the thoughts from her head.
"What about him?" Irse asked and pointed at the man still unmoving from the spell that Deekin's wand had cast.
"Him? No worry for him, he moves again later," the kobold said.
"Oh, all right. I suppose we should get going -" She looked back at Deekin.
"… then?"
The kobold and his pack were already gone. Round the corner of the end of the alley, a tiny almost embarrassed toot whistled faintly.
The elf sniffed at the air and coughed, but smiled forgivingly. She hastily stuffed the meteorites into the sack, made a step to leave the alley but turned back to look at the man.
Looked at the alley exit, at the man again, and considered something for a moment. Making shifty glances around her, Irse took hold of the man's hands and stuffed his thumbs all the way up into his nostrils.
And then she sprinted out of the backstreet with a snicker and a grin of exhilaration.
And a few scribblings here:
Deekin Scalesinger appears courtesy of Neverwinter Nights. Perhaps a significant break from his canon, but I'm sure Master Tymofarrar would forgive the little guy as long as he brings home a pie.
Chapter title and Deekin's exclamation ("Kurtulmak! They're not rocks…") are references to Breaking Bad character Hank Schaeder's line - "Jeez, Marie! They aren't rocks! They're minerals!" or some such. XD
Am now sorely desirous to write Xan saying, "I am the One who Dooms."