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Interludes in Suldenessellar Chapter 1 Section 2


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#1 Guest_VigaHrolf_*

Posted 18 December 2003 - 05:42 AM

Welcome to the second section of Chapter 1...

Disclaimers: Interludes overall rating Strong PG-13. Contains some adult situation/language, violence, occaissional disturbing imagery.

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Jaheira walked into the early morning sun that filtered through the leafy canopy of Suldenessellar. Even scarred by the Exile’s thwarted attack against the ancient city, it was still a beautiful place. The scars appealed to the druid, a sign of the ancient city’s return to the cycle of growth and eventual renewal. It brought the unearthly beauty back into the realm of the mortal, back into the sphere of nature. However, she believed she certainly was in the minority when it came to her opinion on the battle scars of the city.

Coming back to earth, she looked at the stone walks that lead away from their apartments in the elven city. Stone was a poor thing to track along, so she was left to a decision. Should she head towards the city center where she knew at least a few of her companions were? One of them might know where Viga had gone off to. Or he could even be in the city center, talking with the sages again. Or should she head for the outskirts? To the forest surrounding the city?

After another moment’s indecision, she chose the city center. Last night there had been much on his mind, and speaking to Ellisime’s sages seemed to help Viga deal with the extra baggage that his heritage had gifted him. He wasn’t the same since they had returned from Hell and he had been.. restored. There was a quietness, a darkness he couldn’t seem to shake. It was disconcerting to see in him, for he had always been so full of life, sometime a bit too boisterous. After Irenicus… after losing and then regaining his soul….

“Having your soul stolen by that murderous bastard and then having to fight for it in the darkness of the hells itself will wear on a man. It would destroy most people, it’s a testament to his strength that he still lives,” Jaheira muttered to herself as her feet led her to the Houses of Healing. She had not so much picked the destination, but it was the one place she was sure she could find one of their party. And perhaps a clue as to why Viga had so mysteriously disappeared on her.

Nodding to the elf that stood guard at the door, she pushed open the once white doors. Even though she had never been to the city before Irenicus had come, there was no mistaking the differences he had wrought. The guard was new and there was no way that before his attack would the temple doors been allowed to remained soiled with soot and other… stains. But these were different times, a city violated, a people subjected to horrors they had not thought possible. Passing through the doors, Jaheira couldn’t help the thought that rose unbidden in her mind. Sometimes the balance requires such things for equilibrium to be found again. Great destruction to allow new birth. But it still does not make it easy to see it. Or live through it. A face rose from the darkness of her mind, a silent testament to her own struggle and pain.

As she walked in, she was heartened to see most of the beds lay empty. Just a few bodies filled the hall. It was so much different than when she first walked in and the temple was filled with wounded and dying elves. She remembered the long nights she and the others skilled in the healing arts had spent, trying to save those who they could. It was far from a pleasant memory and her mind’s eye still saw the blood that had stained the floor even though the floor now gleamed white from the furious scrubbing of the attendants.

Walking further in, she caught sight of the one she was looking for. Two figures were bent over a bed containing what remained of an elf. Most of his face was wrapped in bandages and from the covers she could see that the battle had taken both and arm and a leg. The two figures talked quietly in elvish, discussing the patients condition. As she silently walked up to him, she heard the younger blonde figure say, “His body is whole, w.. well as whole as we can make it, but he still hasn’t awoken.”

The other figure, her hair streaked through with gray, shook her head and said, “I know. We can only heal the body. We have to wait and pray that his mind heals from whatever horror that dragon wrought on it.”

Silently taking a position alongside the bed herself, Jaheira asked, “He was one of the warriors who lead the charge against the incursion by the dragon?”

Both women startled and turned to face her. The blonde exclaimed, “Jah..Jaheira! I didn’t hear you walk in.”

One corner of Jaheira’s mouth tweaked upwards, “When you have spent as much time amongst the forest as I have, you tend to just be.. quiet. It wasn’t intentional Aerie, just habit.”

“I know, its just.. well, you startled us.”

“Sorry. So, he was one of those that went to fight the dragon?”

The older elf, Nairanda answered, “Yes. Faiden was one of those souls who lead the charge. One of the lucky ones, if you can call surviving these injuries lucky. One of the two survivors from that fight.” Nairanda adjusted the sheet on his bed, “He was such a skilled painter, he had a true eye for color. Now, he may never see again. May never even wake. The Exile caused much pain. Pain that will be long in the healing.”

Jaheira nodded solemnly, looking down at the destroyed face bundled in bandages. “The final tally of the destruction he caused may never be fully known.” One finger traced along one of the fresh scars along her arm, “And it will never heal fully. But there will be recovery.” Deep within her heart, a voice cried out, I hope

The old healer looked at Jaheira and nodded, “In my years, I have found that to be true, sister of the forest. It is the way of nature, to repair and rebuild, even after the worst destruction. Even if it takes a long winter before the new spring. Faiden will come back to us, and when he does, we finish his healing.”

Nairanda turned away and started to walk towards another bed, leaving Aerie standing next to Jaheira. Looking over at the blonde elfmaid, Jaheira gestured to a quiet corner and asked quietly, “Aerie, could I speak with you a moment?”

Looking slightly confused, Aerie nodded and followed Jaheira. “What is it Jaheira? Is something wrong?”

Jaheira shook her head and said, “No. I was just wondering if you had seen Viga this morning.”

Aerie cocked her head a little to the side and looked right at Jaheira. Jaheira thought she could see some hint of icy amusement in Aerie’s eyes, but she couldn’t be sure. It could be her own mind putting it there, some artifact of their earlier hostilities. Aerie answered, “He was with you last night wasn’t he? I didn’t see him this morning, but I left quite early to help Nairanda. Maybe he just wanted some time away from you.”

Jaheira flinched as Aerie’s words hit home and pulled on thoughts she didn’t want to even admit to herself. Seeing the hurt her words caused, a hand flew to Aerie’s mouth and she stammered out, “I.. I’m sorry Jaheira. I.. I didn’t mean that. Not that way. Its just, all this time with all the injured, I’ve just..”

Jaheira cut her off with a wave, “Aerie, I understand. What we’ve all gone through in these last few days..”

“I’m sorry..”


Jaheira didn’t let Aerie’s interruption stop her, “And its been worst on Viga. Maybe you are right, maybe he just needed some time alone. Some more time alone.” A look of sorrow started to settle on Jaheira’s face.

Aerie was at a loss for words, her mouth opening and closing, trying to find words to comfort the older woman. Whatever she may have settled on was drowned out as another of the temple’s doors flew open. A familiar booming voice called out, “Help! Healer!”

All three women turned to see the powerfully muscled form of Minsc come bursting through the door, carrying what looked like a dirty, tattered rag doll in hands. The big warrior put the battered body down on one of the beds as the three of them rushed over the bedside. Nairanda’s hand went to the neck of what looked like a little elf girl under the grime while Aerie grabbed more fresh bandages. Jaheira barked a question at the tall Rashemi, “What happened Minsc, where did you find her?”

Minsc wiped a hand on his tunic and replied, “Boo and I were going for a walk around the city. Where we had applied the mighty boot of righteousness to EVIL. Suddenly, Boo, he jumps out of my pocket and runs down my leg. Which is very odd for Boo. He usually doesn’t jump so much as hamsters can not fly..”

Jaheira cut him off, “Where did you find her Minsc?”

“Minsc did not find her, Boo did! I was walking and Boo ran into a pile of broken stones, squeaking very loudly! I thought perhaps he had smelled some good cheese, as Boo always chases cheese. Boo kept on squeaking and would not come out. He told me that there was a little girl trapped under the rock. Minsc used his berserker strength to pull the rocks up and underneath, there was this little girl. As soon as I found her, I had to rush her here. Will the little girl be alright?”

As he spoke Nairanda had wrapped her hands around the little girl’s face and begun to pray. A yellow glow flooded out of her hands and into the little girl’s body. Looking up, she was about to tell Aerie to fetch water, but the younger healer already had. Gently pouring slow drops into the girl’s mouth, the elder healer said, “Yes, tall one. You found her in time. She is dehydrated, but now that she is here, she will heal. Go and find Dyani, my assistant, tall one. There may be others trapped in that section of the city. It is our duty to find each and every one.”

Minsc nodded and said, “No one should remained trapped. Minsc and Boo have been trapped before, and it not fun. No, we will liberate trapped elves.”

As Minsc headed for the door, Jaheira caught up to him and asked quickly, “Minsc, while you were walking, did you see Viga? I’ve been trying to find him this morning but to no avail.”

Minsc nodded sagely, “Ahh. I know how that feels. Sometimes Boo decides to hide on Minsc and until I find him, I am very sad. Mainly Boo goes to look for cheese. Boo always apologizes. Perhaps Viga went to look for something. Although probably not cheese.”

Jaheira rubbed one hand over the lower half of her face. “Maybe Minsc. Have you seen him?”

Minsc stopped and nodded once more. “I did see him, early. He walked off to where we heroes slew the dragon. He didn’t say Hi to either Minsc or Boo.”

Jaheira grasped the bicep of the big barbarian and said, “Thank you Minsc.” And then took to her heels, leaving Minsc confusedly scratching his head and looking at Boo.

She ran through the still mostly abandoned streets of Suldennessar, her booted feet pounding the paving stones. Her feet deftly maneuvered around obstacles both elven and structural. Without thinking, she simply leapt across a broken section of road where a golem had crashed through the paving stones. She couldn’t explain her haste rationally, but something tugged at her heart and shouted warning. She had known Viga to become quiet, even deeply self reflective, but not to ignore his friends. Whatever weighed his mind must have been heavy, and that realization gave her speed.

It didn’t take long for her to reach the battered and ruined section of the city that marked where the dragon had alighted, doing grievous harm to both defender and structure. Scooting around broken masonry, she found herself in the ancient woodlands that surrounded the city. She was now amongst the trees that her lover had disappeared into, a place where no matter how hard he tried to disappear she could find him.

Taking a quiet moment to regain her bearings, she studied the ancient forest. Tremendous trees soared high into the sky, dominating the forest with their shadow while smaller plants wrapped around them, searching for the vital sunlight necessary for life and growth. Jaheira took in a deep breath of forest fragrance, feeling the life, the veritas, that surged through this old growth. These were the places in the world where she felt truly at home, the verges of the ancient forests, where Nature ruled. It was her element, her place in this world.

And it was a place where she could find Viga. His skill at woodcraft was impressive, but hiding from a druid in the wood would require skills that even he did not possess. Rangers lived with the forest, but druids lived in the forests. This little fact alleviated some of her tension, but still… She needed to find him.

Knowing where your quarry would head to always aided in tracking, and she knew Viga well enough to know that she would find him by water. Preferably running water. Finding one of the larger streams that ran through this part of the forest, she set herself to the task of find his trail.

A few minutes of hunting revealed the boot prints she was looking for. Moving with ease, she followed them up the bank of the stream and towards a rock outcropping that dominated a small switchback in the stream. As she drew closer, she could see some movement atop the largest stone. The outcrop hid him from direct view, but she knew she had found him. He had always loved the high places and usually picked them from camp sites. The sheltered stone and its overlook over water was the perfect place for her warrior to take refuge against the world.

Reaching the stone’s base, she placed her hands on the stone, raised one boot and called out, “So this is where you disappeared to.”

Pulling herself up and walking around the larger stone outcropping, she saw the big ranger resting his back against the hard granite. He was dressed simply in trousers, boots, and a sleeveless green tunic. It was still odd to see him like that, his body not cased in mail, weapons not hanging off of his belt and his long dark hair not contained within one helm or another. One hand tossed a simple dagger up in the air absently while the other hand straightened out the two long braids in his beard. As she approached, he did not turn his dark brown eyes on her, instead simply staring out over the water into the middle distance.

Other than his hands, he could have been a statue, much like the ones that now graced the fountain in Trademeet. As she drew even closer, she studied her love and saw the signs of deep emotional stress. The tightness of his jaw, the way his shoulders were so perfectly straight as well as the fact that he fidgeted, his free hand moving his beard braids absently. When calm, he possessed near perfect control, able to remain as still as a tree. It was a skill he had impressed on her at almost their first meeting when he stalked through the trees hunting hobgoblins. She remembered how he froze, as unmoving as a statue when he thought they had caught some sense of him and waited so patiently to relax. And his woodcraft only improved. And now, that control seemed to hang by a few fraying threads.

A worried expression on her face, she crossed the final distance and sat down on the stone lip he was using as a chair. Looking right at him, she asked point blank, “So, are you going to tell me why you disappeared this morning and slipped into the forest or are you going to make me guess? You know I am not overfond of riddles.”

He looked over as if for the first time acknowledging her presence. Catching the dagger in midair, he replied, his voice flat but heavy with emotion, “I came here to think. Alone. To sort things out.”

“Very well.” Jaheira turned away and looked forward, studying the trees and the ripples in the stream below them.

Viga made no immediate reply, simply staring at her. One bushy eyebrow arched slightly as he studied her face. Her face was a perfect mask, blank as a fresh sheet of paper and showing not an ounce of emotion. It was a face she often wore and frequently brought out for card games around the fire. He continued to stare for minute after minute, waiting for some word, some sign. He knew she wanted to say something, to ask him what was wrong, but she did not speak. Eventually, he turned away and looked off into the distance, sorting through his thoughts again.

An hour passed by with no more sound than the burbling of the brook and the sound of the dagger being tossed. And if it were not for the dagger, the casual observer would have sworn that he was looking at two statues carved into the stone face.

Viga grabbed the dagger in midair instead of waiting for it to come to him and turned to face Jaheira. With a hint of annoyance in his voice, he asked, “Are you just going to sit there all day like some statue? Or are you going to say anything?”

She turned and faced him, replying in a calm voice, “Viga, you told me you wanted to be alone. So, I honored your wish, and I left you alone.”

“You’ve been here the whole hour. Just sitting there.”

“Yes, but I left you alone. I did not intrude onto your thoughts, I did not ask you any questions, I made no demands. You were alone.”

“But you were here! Sitting next to me. Physically!”

Innocently she replied, “Yes, but so was the stone, that tree, the fish in the brook, those birds over there. They were all here and you thought yourself alone. They did not ask you anything, just were. Much like I was. What is the difference?”


“You are no tree or bird or stone, woman. You are you! You don’t just sit anywhere! You make yourself known, you make your presence felt. When I am with you I am never alone, you have too much draw, to much power over me!”

“Well, I must admit it feels good to know that I such an effect on you,” she answered lightly as smile cracked through her mask, “That you can’t simply even sit next to me without noticing. And that you don’t feel alone with me.”

Viga tugged on one of his beard braids out of frustration and growled. “You… you! Gah! You drive me mad, woman! You make me as tongue twisted as Minsc trying to quote elven poetry! You drive me to distraction sometimes. Especially when you are so damnably right!”

The mask fled and was replaced with a look of both amusement and concern. “I always knew you were a wise man. I just wanted you to know you weren’t alone. You’ve seem so troubled as of late and the look on your face was that of a man who felt utterly alone in this world. I just wanted you to know you weren’t.”

Viga sighed deeply. “Am I so easy to read? Can you simply read me that well? No wonder you always beat me at cards.”

Jaheira smiled tenderly and put one hand on his arm. “No, you are no simple man to read. But I’ve had a long time and a good reason to learn.” The smile widened. “And the reason you lose at cards is because Imoen marks them.”

A little laugh escaped his lips and a smile even threatened for a moment before something came up and swallowed the mirth. He broke eye contact and looked down at the ground as whatever weighed on him dragged him back down. Moving her hand to his broad shoulder, she asked, “Now that we’ve established I can read you, would you share the meaning of what I’ve read? Something is bothering you, and deeply.”

Without looking up, his voice flat once more, “It is my father.”

“What about Gorion troubles you? Was it meeting Sarevok again?”

He looked up, his face blank. “Not Gorion, Jaheira. My other father. The one that brought me into being. Bhaal.”

Not knowing what exactly to say, she went for another question, “What about Bhaal is it? Are you thinking of the prophecies?”

“No. Not the prophecies so much. More thinking of what I am. That I am a tool of prophesy. That I am the spawn of a dark and twisted god, part of his plan to be reborn. That I am not my own man, that I am not even truly a man. I am something else.”

Viga pulled himself to his feet and took a step closer to the edge of the outcropping. As Jaheira pulled herself up, he continued in a flat monotone that belied the emotion in his voice. “Growing up, I never thought myself anything special. I was just another kid in Candlekeep. One with a love of nature and a talent for weapons, with little talent for magic or interest in books. I wandered the woods and got into all sorts of trouble with Imoen. Some of it was my doing, some hers. And then, Sarevok came and my life changed.”

“I became a Bhaalspawn. I always had been, but now, thanks to Gorion’s murder and that bastard’s plot, I was aware of it. The darker emotions that occasionally bubbled up took on another light, a more sinister one. I was the son of the god of death, of murder. A tool created by a god to assure his own rebirth. Seen by others as a tool for their own use, like that murderous bastard to ascend to the empty place in the heavens.” Viga turned to face Jaheira, not looking at her but through her as he spoke, “But I was still Viga. I was Viga the Bhaalspawn, but I was still human. Still my own person, not some tool unless I allowed myself to be. Then came Irenicus.”

Viga’s fists tightened at the name much like Jaheira’s eyes. There was much pain there, some of it still raw. “At first he was no different than that rat bastard Sarevok. Just some other evil, power mad villain that decided I was to be his target. I was the ticket to power for him, but I was still free. I was still human. Then.. then he took…”

“He took your soul.” Jaheira added softly.

“Yes. He took my soul, he left me empty to feed his own power. I don’t know how to describe what it was like without it. I know I’ve tried to put it in words, but there aren’t any. There shouldn’t be any. But, it still happened. He had taken my soul, taken a vital part of me, of my being. And for the first time, I was not Viga any more. I was just some shell, the imprint. Still Viga, but not.”

Jaheira rested both her hands on his shoulders and looked into his eyes. “And we defeated him. Restored your soul, made you whole again. You are Viga, the Viga I fell in love with.”

“Am I? When I fought him, when I fought Irenicus and won, I did get back my soul. But am I still Viga? Hell changed me Jaheira. Changed me in ways I don’t even understand. I went from being a simple human, just a man with a streak of bad luck in attracting power hungry madmen to some creature of destiny. To becoming some mix of mortal and divine. I may have won back my soul but lost who I am.”

Jaheira grabbed his left hand in both of hers, pressing her fingers into the flesh. As she did, she never looked away from his eyes. Her voice teetering between anger and concern, she replied, “Do you feel that? That is flesh and blood. Mine and yours. You are still human, Viga. Still the man I love, no matter what Destiny in her harebrained folly has to say about it. Perhaps the gods have decreed a different path for you my love, but you are still Viga. You are still your own person. Listen to me. Trust me.”

A look of deep sadness crossed Viga’s face. His face sank, turning as lifeless as stone they stood on. “I would like nothing better than to believe you Jaheira. But I can’t. Because I am not human. I am something else now, something I never wanted to be. I don’t know what I am Jaheira, but it is certainly not human. See?”

As he finished speaking, Jaheira started to speak. Her mouth opened in rebuke and rebuttal, her voice died in her throat. Mouth agape and eyes widening in horror, she watched Viga pull his hand free and flip the dagger in his other hand. She tried to grab his wrist but he was too quick. With one swift movement, he slashed the blade across his wrist, the blade biting deep. The blade finished its arc and he repeated once more, in the same lifeless tone, “See?”

#2 Guest_argan_*

Posted 18 December 2003 - 01:21 PM

Excellent chapter ;)

#3 Guest_AlphaMonkey_*

Posted 18 December 2003 - 07:00 PM

Innocently she replied, “Yes, but so was the stone, that tree, the fish in the brook, those birds over there. They were all here and you thought yourself alone. They did not ask you anything, just were. Much like I was. What is the difference?”


Smooth. ;)

I think that given her personality, (and maybe to a lesser extent her kinda paltry in-game wisdom score) a lot of people miss this kind of angle. Jaheira is a druid, and, druids tend to be "wise" or maybe just "wise-guys/girls". Either way, though, the way she's written in the game, that doesn't seem to be emphasized all that much. I like what you've done with it.

“And the reason you lose at cards is because Imoen marks them.”


Why does that not surprise me? :)

With one swift movement, he slashed the blade across his wrist, the blade biting deep. The blade finished its arc and he repeated once more, in the same lifeless tone, “See?”


Hmmm... ok, I'm not entirely sure where you're going with this, but if you're doing, what I think you're doing, then... neat...

Here's my theory: One of the benefits you get from the various Tears is the whole "Immunity to normal and +1 weapons" bit. Usually, reactions on this tend to be one of two things. Either the player goes "Hey, that's kinda neat! I'm immune to junk now!" or they say "Hmmm... I guess that just means everyone coming after me from now on is going to have +2 weaps or greater".

I don't think it registers with a lot of players that this might actually be seen as a bad thing - as in: I was a freak before, but look, I can cut myself, and I don't bleed, and whoa, isn't that just sickeningly creepy?

Now as I said, I'm not sure if that's your intent with this bit, but if it is...

Sweeeeet. :)

#4 Guest_VigaHrolf_*

Posted 18 December 2003 - 09:29 PM

Innocently she replied, “Yes, but so was the stone, that tree, the fish in the brook, those birds over there. They were all here and you thought yourself alone. They did not ask you anything, just were. Much like I was. What is the difference?”


Smooth. :twisted:

I think that given her personality, (and maybe to a lesser extent her kinda paltry in-game wisdom score) a lot of people miss this kind of angle. Jaheira is a druid, and, druids tend to be "wise" or maybe just "wise-guys/girls". Either way, though, the way she's written in the game, that doesn't seem to be emphasized all that much. I like what you've done with it.


AlphaMonkey, (which is a great screenname by the way) I think that there a couple of examples of it, where you can see it. Sometimes its hidden in the way that is delivered. Wisdom is wisdom, even when it isn't delivered by small green men or dudes on mountain tops in lioncloths. She can tend to be abrasive.. but hey.. no one's perfect.

She's always seemed that way to me though, a slightly abrasive but very wise woman. Although they could have done more than pay lip service to the importance of the balance, which I think is verra important to her and I've tried to emphasize.

“And the reason you lose at cards is because Imoen marks them.”


Why does that not surprise me? :oops:


Can't think of a reason. Nope. Not I. :oops:

With one swift movement, he slashed the blade across his wrist, the blade biting deep. The blade finished its arc and he repeated once more, in the same lifeless tone, “See?”


Hmmm... ok, I'm not entirely sure where you're going with this, but if you're doing, what I think you're doing, then... neat...

Here's my theory: One of the benefits you get from the various Tears is the whole "Immunity to normal and +1 weapons" bit. Usually, reactions on this tend to be one of two things. Either the player goes "Hey, that's kinda neat! I'm immune to junk now!" or they say "Hmmm... I guess that just means everyone coming after me from now on is going to have +2 weaps or greater".

I don't think it registers with a lot of players that this might actually be seen as a bad thing - as in: I was a freak before, but look, I can cut myself, and I don't bleed, and whoa, isn't that just sickeningly creepy?

Now as I said, I'm not sure if that's your intent with this bit, but if it is...

Sweeeeet. :twisted:


Well AlphaMonkey.. all I have to say is that it is an interesting theory and would be an interesting RP point as well. Will it be borne out? Wait til next time! :twisted:

#5 Laufey

Posted 20 December 2003 - 11:06 AM

Aerie cocked her head a little to the side and looked right at Jaheira. Jaheira thought she could see some hint of icy amusement in Aerie’s eyes, but she couldn’t be sure. It could be her own mind putting it there, some artifact of their earlier hostilities. Aerie answered, “He was with you last night wasn’t he? I didn’t see him this morning, but I left quite early to help Nairanda. Maybe he just wanted some time away from you.”


Jaheira flinched as Aerie’s words hit home and pulled on thoughts she didn’t want to even admit to herself. Seeing the hurt her words caused, a hand flew to Aerie’s mouth and she stammered out, “I.. I’m sorry Jaheira. I.. I didn’t mean that. Not that way. Its just, all this time with all the injured, I’ve just..”


Oh, she meant it all right, I don't doubt it for a second.


All three women turned to see the powerfully muscled form of Minsc come bursting through the door, carrying what looked like a dirty, tattered rag doll in hands. The big warrior put the battered body down on one of the beds as the three of them rushed over the bedside. Nairanda’s hand went to the neck of what looked like a little elf girl under the grime while Aerie grabbed more fresh bandages. Jaheira barked a question at the tall Rashemi, “What happened Minsc, where did you find her?”


Sinister things going on...somehow I don't think this girl was just a forgotten victim of Irenicus' attack.


Taking a quiet moment to regain her bearings, she studied the ancient forest. Tremendous trees soared high into the sky, dominating the forest with their shadow while smaller plants wrapped around them, searching for the vital sunlight necessary for life and growth. Jaheira took in a deep breath of forest fragrance, feeling the life, the veritas, that surged through this old growth. These were the places in the world where she felt truly at home, the verges of the ancient forests, where Nature ruled. It was her element, her place in this world.


Very well portrayed! :lol: You really write a wonderful Jaheira, I think.


Innocently she replied, “Yes, but so was the stone, that tree, the fish in the brook, those birds over there. They were all here and you thought yourself alone. They did not ask you anything, just were. Much like I was. What is the difference?”




“You are no tree or bird or stone, woman. You are you! You don’t just sit anywhere! You make yourself known, you make your presence felt. When I am with you I am never alone, you have too much draw, to much power over me!”


“Well, I must admit it feels good to know that I such an effect on you,” she answered lightly as smile cracked through her mask, “That you can’t simply even sit next to me without noticing. And that you don’t feel alone with me.”


As I said, a perfectly lovely Jaheira! :)


“Yes. He took my soul, he left me empty to feed his own power. I don’t know how to describe what it was like without it. I know I’ve tried to put it in words, but there aren’t any. There shouldn’t be any. But, it still happened. He had taken my soul, taken a vital part of me, of my being. And for the first time, I was not Viga any more. I was just some shell, the imprint. Still Viga, but not.”


Jaheira rested both her hands on his shoulders and looked into his eyes. “And we defeated him. Restored your soul, made you whole again. You are Viga, the Viga I fell in love with.”


“Am I? When I fought him, when I fought Irenicus and won, I did get back my soul. But am I still Viga? Hell changed me Jaheira. Changed me in ways I don’t even understand. I went from being a simple human, just a man with a streak of bad luck in attracting power hungry madmen to some creature of destiny. To becoming some mix of mortal and divine. I may have won back my soul but lost who I am.”


This is very sad, and I hope he is wrong. :shock:
Rogues do it from behind.

#6 Guest_VigaHrolf_*

Posted 20 December 2003 - 08:06 PM

Oh, she meant it all right, I don't doubt it for a second.


Heh. I just don't think she meant it to work that well...


Taking a quiet moment to regain her bearings, she studied the ancient forest. Tremendous trees soared high into the sky, dominating the forest with their shadow while smaller plants wrapped around them, searching for the vital sunlight necessary for life and growth. Jaheira took in a deep breath of forest fragrance, feeling the life, the veritas, that surged through this old growth. These were the places in the world where she felt truly at home, the verges of the ancient forests, where Nature ruled. It was her element, her place in this world.


Very well portrayed! :lol: You really write a wonderful Jaheira, I think.


Thank you... I really try and do all characters justice, even the ones I'm not overly fond of. Of course, as you might be able to tell, I am quite fond of the dreadlock sporting druid. Quite fond. Heh. :) :)


This is very sad, and I hope he is wrong. :shock:


Even if he thinks he is, do you think Jaheira will let him go down that dark road? But it won't exactly be an easy one...

#7 Guest_MorningGlory_*

Posted 21 December 2003 - 04:11 PM

VH,

Your portrayal of Jah is right on the money.

Good show of all your characterizations. Especially Viga, your Bhaalspawn. He has his soul back, but is still tortured even more. Very elloquently portrayed.

MG

#8 Guest_Bri_*

Posted 21 December 2003 - 04:58 PM

Very nice characterizations indeed VH.

Of course, we all have our own perspectives on characters (for example, I give Aerie a bit more backbone myself, though I do admit that BioWare handicapped her too greatly).

However, it is easy to accept your portrayal of the NPCs in the fashion you did so.

#9 Guest_VigaHrolf_*

Posted 21 December 2003 - 06:09 PM

MG, Bri...

Thank you for your kind words. I think character creation is so key and maintaining it is also important.

And I'm glad you enjoyed it, this second time around.

And MG, very true... getting your soul back isn't necessarily a cure for all that ails ya.

#10 Guest_Theodur_*

Posted 21 December 2003 - 06:30 PM

“You are no tree or bird or stone, woman. You are you! You don’t just sit anywhere! You make yourself known, you make your presence felt. When I am with you I am never alone, you have too much draw, to much power over me!”


“Well, I must admit it feels good to know that I such an effect on you,” she answered lightly as smile cracked through her mask, “That you can’t simply even sit next to me without noticing. And that you don’t feel alone with me.”


Viga, I just had to stop by and say that this is one of the loveliest paragraphs I've happened to read recently. Indeed, and my own Theo is another example that Jaheira's very presence impedes the thought processes... doesn't it? :)

Also, do you think that Aerie is the type to hold grudges for long? Well, I hope she gets over her jealousy, because right now I feel just like slapping her a bit... :)

#11 Guest_VigaHrolf_*

Posted 21 December 2003 - 08:25 PM


“You are no tree or bird or stone, woman. You are you! You don’t just sit anywhere! You make yourself known, you make your presence felt. When I am with you I am never alone, you have too much draw, to much power over me!”



“Well, I must admit it feels good to know that I such an effect on you,” she answered lightly as smile cracked through her mask, “That you can’t simply even sit next to me without noticing. And that you don’t feel alone with me.”


Viga, I just had to stop by and say that this is one of the loveliest paragraphs I've happened to read recently. Indeed, and my own Theo is another example that Jaheira's very presence impedes the thought processes... doesn't it? :)


Thank you Theo. And my Viga would certainly agree completely with the amazing ability the mere presence Jaheira has on distrupting a thought. ANd in this case, she managed to do it fully clothed. :)

The woman has too much power for her own good. Perhaps this is why Khalid stuttered? She had distrupted his throught processes so throughly, coherent communication became difficult! :) :)

Also, do you think that Aerie is the type to hold grudges for long? Well, I hope she gets over her jealousy, because right now I feel just like slapping her a bit... :P


To be honest, I think she doesn't hold grudges but remembers pain. The pain of her capture, torture, and god knows what else certain stays with her.. certainly a very important part of her psyche. However, I do think she has an ability to recover.

But I can understand the desire to slap her one... :) That wasn't very nice.




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