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Part 9 : Intervention


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#1 Weyoun

Posted 12 January 2003 - 09:21 PM

 
A'mael Mellonamin part 9 : Intervention

---

"Disastrous, simply disastrous," Lord Nasher spoke, fatigue and concern apparently had taken a heavy toll on the aged lord. "Aribeth has been part of our city guard for over forty years... and commanded it for over half that time! She knows every tactic, every commander, every countermeasure. Her forces are scoring victory after victory... From her command-post, she can literally see the towers of Neverwinter looming over the hills from where she's sitting!"

"It is cause for concern, Lord Nasher, but it's not the end," Aarin sighed, hoping to ease Nasher's worries. "Has there been any word from Waterdeep?"

"No," Lord Nasher sighed. "Apparently they are having trouble of their own at the moment. Some Beholder or whatknot is holding some of their Lords hostage so any reinforcements from Waterdeep are bound to be too late to save the city. I feel... defeated, Aarin... Defeated by my own actions..." he fell silent for a moment. "Well, there's no time to dwell upon my past failures, Aarin. How goes the search for the Words of Power?"

"Not well," Aarin Gend said in a diplomatic tone.

"Not well?" Nasher asked. "How so? Haven't you explained to Alris that..."

"Alris has become completely apathic to our cause and dire needs," Aarin grimaced. "I saw this coming when we first entered Beorunna's Well. As you know, he's deeply in love with Aribeth, and can think of little else at the moment. I am certain that he no longer fights for Neverwinter... All he wants is to retrieve Aribeth and possibly run away with her..."

"The hero of Neverwinter will abandon Neverwinter as well?" Lord Nasher couldn't help but snort. "I've... really made a mess of things, haven't I? Perhaps, if we miraculously survive this... it would be for the best for me to... finally retire..."

"Don't say that, Lord Nasher. There is still hope," Aarin said. "If I can convince Alris that he should keep searching..."

"What is the point?" Nasher snorted. "It's all over... The many skirmishes all over this land are a clear sign of that. If we cannot stand up to Maugrim's cult and Luskan, how can we stand up to the armies of the Old Ones?"

"Nasher, there is still hope," Aarin said, using Nasher's fist name as an insistence as he stared into his glass orb allowing him to communicate with Neverwinter. "I may not be able to convince Alris to gather the words of power, but I know his friends are already trying."

---

"Ah, there you are, Alris," Daelan said as he and Boddyknock entered the wooden barrack that served as their temporary home. Already, Linu had seen to some sparse decorations, thinking they would be staying there for some time. Alris was unpacking his bag and use a magical charm to de-louse his cot. Elves don't like lice, that much is a fact.

"You left the celebration prematurely," Daelan smiled. "Vanda has had no chance to thank you for saving her husband and a valued member of the Uthgard tribes."

"Might I add," Boddyknock added, "that your conduct when you were speaking on his behalf in the courtroom was commendable. Your arguments were logical and decisive, and might I note you seemed to be... driven. This seems to be conflicting with your usual shyness and withdrawn state."

"Thank you," Alris muttered, not really paying attention. "Just... saving another innocent from the bureaucratic bloodthirst of Neverwinter's finest."

"Fascinating," Boddyknock nodded. "You are not normally this cynical. I would conclude that something is the matter..."

"I wonder," Alris sighed, "how many people have become the victim of rigid laws and unbending officials? Good folk... Morality, honor and decency are supposed to transcend laws, yet laws seem to be abused by foolish people who think those qualities are actually equal to written laws..."

"A logical statement," Boddyknock added. "Laws are different in each land, yet most ethical principles are universal."

"Sorry, guys," Alris half-smiled. "I didn't mean to draw you into my cynicism... I just... Just don't want to be sitting here doing nothing."

"Alris," the half-orc spoke and put his hand on his shoulder. From a distance, it would seem that his hulking hand was crushing Alris' elven chest, "seeking the Word of Power is hardly 'doing nothing'."

"I mean about Aribeth," Alris nodded. "I'm just sitting here while she is suffering!"

"There is a lesson for Neverwinter to learn," Daelan nodded. "There is a tale among the Uthgard, an ancient legend of consequences and betrayal. Fenthick's execution and Aribeth's... defection," he said diplomatically, "remind me of a tale of my own people. I only hope Neverwinter does not suffer the same fate as the Uthgard. In ancient times all the Uthgard tribes were one, a mighty nation under the great hero-king Uthgar. Our people were indomitable in battle - none dared stand against Uthgar when he wielded his great spear. It is said no weapon could harm him when he brandished the spear over his head."

"Fascinating," Boddyknock said. "Though I find it difficult to believe that a single object could create and maintain an empire."

"The tribes believed the power of the Spear, Boddyknock," Daelan smiled. "And they rallied behind those holding it."

"Logical," Boddyknock admitted.

"The legend tells about a young boy who desired nothing more than to be a great hero. When news of a coming invasion came, he swore he would join the ranks of men as a warrior. In the blanket of night, the boy crept inside the tent of Uthgard and stole the spear. After that, he fled into the night, determined to face the enemy alone," Daelan spoke.

"What happened next?" Alris ask. "Did the boy defeat the enemy?"

"No, my friend," Daelan smiled. "When Uthgard woke up the next morning, he found his spear gone. This, however, never deterred his warrior's spirit. He and his fellows rode into battle and endured terrible losses. Though the battle was won, Uthgard was slain. The boy was found the next day, sleeping in the woods clutching the spear. He had never found the enemies he sought to destroy."

"A sad tale," Alris nodded. "Not very uplifting."

"Evidence suggests legends rarely are, captain," Boddyknock spoke.

"Boddyknock?" Alris asked with a puzzled look across his face. "Why did you just call me 'captain'?"

"Curious," Boddyknock blinked. "I have no idea, Alris. Fascinating..."

"In any case, those who saw him with the spear quickly understood what had happened and they blamed him for Uthgar's death. They cast him out forever, banishing him from the tribe," Daelan spoke. "The boy fled, taking the spear with him. He had only wanted to prove himself a warrior, he had only wanted to help defend the tribe. His motives were honorable. But his actions had tragic consequences, and the Uthgard could not forgive him. Just as Neverwinter could not forgive Fenthick. And with the influence of the spear gone, the once mighty empire fell to decay, its tribes scattered across the four winds. Had they forgiven the boy, the empire would have remained strong, and the North would be a very different place today."

"Neverwinter does seem to have gone through a similar test, it seems, and has failed," Boddyknock said. "And now, the city faced destruction. With the added complication of Aribeth leading the enemy troops, factoring in the weakened state of the city guards, and, of course, the influence of the cult and the Old Ones, I estimate the odds that the city will survive the assault without intervention at 45637 to 1."

Alris snorted. "Let them die..." he said simply.

Boddyknock and Daelan simply started at the depressed elf for a moment.

"You don't really mean that," Daelan concluded.

"A most illogical statement," Boddyknock said. "Then again, this whole war is caused by an illogical action. It is certain that Fenthick would have served the cause of Neverwinter with all his heart, were he given the opportunity. Such a waste of resources are illogical at best, and erractic at worst. What purpose is there in killing a man who is only going to be your ally in the future? Such irrational behavior is difficult for me to understand, Alris..."

"My thoughts are on Aribeth mostly," Alris replied. "Look, if you don't want to sleep on lice tonight, I'd better continue cleaning up here."

"Say no more, Alris," Daelan smiled. "I am eager to return to battle... but not with an itchy scalp."

A few moments later, though Alris could hear them coming from outside, both Linu and Sharwyn entered.

"Hey, Alris," Sharwyn greeted. "Why did you leave early? You missed my artists' rendition of 'The Goodship lollipop'. It made Tomi blush."

"Dare I ask?" Alris chuckled.

"No, no," Linu blushed a bit. "I don't think you'd want to hear that."

"I've never seen so much grown barbarians blush!" Sharwyn grinned broadly. "So much fun..."

"But that's not why we're here, dear," Linu nodded as suddenly both ladies sat down next to him, flanking the puzzled elf.

"We want to talk to you about Aribeth," Sharwyn nodded.

"She's all you can talk and think about... and that's not healthy," Linu added.

"What do you expect me to say?" Alris sighed. "I... I want to find her. I want to find her and save her from this madness... I want to take her with me, as far away from Neverwinter as possible. I want to hold her in my arms and make it all better..."

"Alris," Sharwyn smiled. "You're a sweet man, but..."

"Dear, we have to stop you from hurting yourself!" Linu stressed. "You seek to save Aribeth from her obsession. But you know as well as I that obsessions destroy our elves spirits, Alris! And saving Aribeth is becoming an obsession! An obsession for you!"

"Don't be silly," Alris snorted and stood up, creating some distance between him and his friends. "All that which Aribeth went though can't be compared to..."

"That may be, dear," Linu interrupted calmly. "But, like her, you have been under great emotional stress too..."

"You know," Alris sighed. "I... condemned Lord Nasher for his decision to have Fenthick hanged. I... Every elf has meaning... but I was... actually happy that he was gone. Happy, that he was out of the way so that I and Aribeth could be together. And I feel so guilty about that..."

"Bullshit!" Sharwyn shouted in unusual ineloquence. "You made every effort to make Aribeth feel better. To help her deal with her loss, to help her get through the pain. You never thought of yourself, only of Aribeth in everything you did," Sharwyn grinned. "I think that's what made her fall in love with you. I fact, I know it. You truly care about her. And cared about her when nobody else did."

Alris blushed bright red. "Er, ah.. I... I... Ah, thank you, I..."

"But, dear," Linu smiled. "You won't do yourself or Aribeth any good if you keep sulking like this! If Old Ones take over, Aribeth is lost too. We have to get those Words of Power and keep them out of their hands. And the quicker we get them in our hands, dear, the quicker we can rescue Aribeth! She's our friend too."

"You're right," Alris smiled genuinely, for the first time since that day in the cave one week ago. "It's time to stop this and do something! For Aribeth..."

"And for yourself, dear," Linu smiled.

"Hey, lets not forget the rest of the world," Sharwyn grinned.

"We'll be leaving tomorrow..." Alris smiled, feeling useful again at last.

"We all gave you our word in the cave, dear," Linu smiled.

"It's time for us to save the world," Sharwyn grinned, "which, aside from making the six of us famous and filthy rich, will allow us to save your lady-love in the process. Hmmm, I think I need to write another song... I liked the look of a blushing Tomi."

---

Slamming her fist on the table, Aribeth de Tylmarande, general and warchief of the Luskan armies, confronted one of her local subcommanders, a tall and disgusting bloke covered with filth and grime. But, she was also feeling tired... very tired... She had to show constant vigilance to make sure that the Luskan hordes were not committing warcrimes and random pillaging. Only Neverwinter and its defenders were to be hit... and hit hard. But not the innocents caught up in the middle.

Right now, she had been trying to explain, for the third time, why Loskane and his men weren't allowed to rape the local peasant-women. Truth be told, she was getting close the point of skewering him.

"This doesn't make any sense!"

"And neither does your request, fool," Aribeth rose to full height, still being a head shorter than the human man but still being very intimidating towards him. "I am commander of this army. You will follow my commands or suffer the consequences."

Loskane's eyes shone with a dangerous light. "And what exactly... would those consequences be?"

"Well," Aribeth matches his grin. "I could, of course, slash your head off right here, but that would reflect badly on my leadership-qualities. I'd be better off telling Suranine about you proposed plan."

Loskane blanched visibly. Suranine, leader of an all-woman Uthgard tribe, though a hardly a peaceful barbarian, was a woman of a both ruthless and principled nature. She saw that honor would be upheld at all cost and Loskane had had many confrontations with her before, often ending up needing to visit a cleric. "If she finds out about... there won't even be enough left of us to feed to the birds!"

"In that case," Aribeth grinned. "I suggest you shelve your plans for tonight and try a different hobby. Like playing poker. Just imagine what being sliced into ribbons by a score of barbarian women would be like. I just bet it could ruin your whole day!"

Loskane snarled at Aribeth but withdrew. Aribeth authority was untouched and even strengthened, but she took no solace in it. She could not...

She took up and strolled to the flap of her command-tent, staring out across the rag-tag camp. Soon, a group of orcs and ogres would be joining them, promising even more difficulties to keep her armies from committing warcrimes. Her hand raised to her neck... until her hand clasped the pendant Alris had given her. It was such a little thing, easy enough to hide under another necklace. She ran her fingers across the silver texture, fingering the imprinted symbol of the Leafwalker house.

And then she felt even more tired. Aribeth glanced wistfully at the forest outside... how easy it would be to run... to disappear in the green cloak of life. The world was doomed, she knew that already... But still... she could run away, find Alris and the two of them could put as much distance behind him as necessary, so that they could at least spent the last few moments of their life in happiness.

As quickly as the thought entered her mind, she felt a sharp pain bite into her head. Immediately, an image of the snarled Morag dominated her vision. 'You are MINE!' the Dread Queen shouted into her mind. Aribeth wanted to scream from the pain, but managed to fight the urge away.

"I will not scream for your pleasure, Morag," Aribeth whispered to the image in her mind as she was shaking like a leaf in the wind. The vision disappeared, apparently please with Aribeth's distress. Her thoughts were her own again...

She rubbed her temples, and gazed upon her formerly glorious armor, now black as soot.. and still felt so very, very tired.

No, she told herself. It was not a mistake... There is no turning back, no escape... I will end Lord Nasher's life and quench the flame of Neverwinter, because... there's no turning back...

---

Alris strolled by the barracks with a renewed sense of purpose, pulling himself out of the damning pit of obsession. Running his hands through his reddish hair, he longed to travel the woods again, to feel the wind on his skin and feel the life around them. But right now, he was concerned with the strange noise coming from inside. The best thing he thought he could do was to investigate, so he did just that.

Throwing open the door, he suddenly felt all the blood in his body rush to his cheeks. On the cot directly in front of him were Sharwyn and Tomi, locked in a rather amorous embrace.

"Errr, close the door, would ya, mate?" Tomi asked with a grin while Sharwyn gave Alris an apologetic smile. As quickly as he could muster Alris closed the door.

Shaking his head, the Alris could only smile. At least one romance was going well...

Instead he focused on the wonderful memory of the sweet lips of Aribeth on his. He simply knew that he would taste them again...

Tomorrow, he thought and glanced wistfully at the ring on his finger which Aribeth had given him with. Tomorrow, we travel again


TnT Enhanced Edition: http://www.fanfictio...rds-and-Tempers

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Sith Warrior - Master, I can sense your anger.

Darth Baras - A blind, comotose lobotomy-patient could sense my anger!

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"The New Age? It's just the old age stuck in a microwave oven for fifteen seconds" - James Randi




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