Okay, I've been contemplating Michelaea a fair bit while I've been working on this & I've come to the conclusion that she's even more mixed up than even I gave her credit for when I decided to create her.
Michelaea herself is more of a blade than a Jester but because of the major influence in her life of Harliquin she's technically a Jester.
Mich tends to be more neutral good in alignment herself but when you put together all the personalities she has to share her head with chaotic neutral is about the only one that fits all of them. As someone said she's more like LG NG CG LN TN CN LE NE CE all rolled into the one person.
Poor girl, she has such a confuzzling life.
I'm not quite pleased with this story but I can't work out how to make it better at the moment, hope you like it.
The taproom of the Copper Coronet was bustling with cheery patrons. Hendak, the former slave turned tavern owner had declared a happy hour as a celebration and a slight measure of consolation for the destruction of the foul goings on in the back sections of the establishment.
Anomen felt a none too small measure of pride that he was one of those that had brought down the foul bastard Lehtinan and his slaver allies.
His new companions had proven to be competent fighters and honourable people. Jaheira had fought with the self assurance and skill of one with long experience. Yoshimo swaggered in his confidence. Minsc had shown a commendable anger for the mistreatment of the animals used in the gladiatorial arena. Aerie had been down right surprising in her fury at the slavers making every spell thrown and every swing of her staff count.
Through all they had done every one of them had shone but Anomen had been left wondering about the leader of the band.
The mystery of the young bard puzzled him, she had fought well, obviously quite skilled with the short sword she carried, moving with the grace of a dancer in every thrust and parry, but the fighting had somehow angered her.
With every enemy she came against the fury in her eyes had gotten hotter.
Anomen looked around the bar, trying to locate Michelaea only to spy her sitting at a table in a far corner, half in shadow. As he made his way to where she sat Anomen considered the strangeness her going into hiding like this, usually one of her profession would be cheerfully regaling the tavern patrons with tales of their exploits.
As he came closer to her he saw what she was doing, she was trying to reconstruct some item of fine china, the puzzle of which only seemed to fuel the evident anger and distress that showed on her face.
“My Lady…”
“Why did have to leave me?” Michelaea muttered, toying with one of the pieces of porcelain, not noticing the priest. “I can't do this on my own…”
“What's wrong my lady?” Anomen asked.
“She's gone,” The bard stared at fragment of porcelain in her hand, she seemed on the verge of tears. “Just as everything goes wrong she abandons me!”
Before Anomen could ask further they were interrupted by Jaheira placing a plate of food and cup in front of bard.
“Eat.” The druid ordered shortly.
“I'm not hungry Jaheira.” Michelaea told her in a depressed tone.
“You're not going to rescue Imoen if you starve yourself girl!” Jaheira's usual frown deepened.
“Like I'll be able to rescue her anyway.” Michelaea's tone had something of a funerary note to it.
Jaheira's frown became a concerned scowl. “What is that supposed to mean?” She asked.
“Harliquin's gone,” Michelaea stated, waving at the fragments spread in front of her. “She took all her skills with her too. I can't fight like I used to without her, I'm too clumsy.”
Anomen was at a loss to understand what the bard was talking about. Who was this 'Harliquin'? What had she to do with Michelaea's fighting abilities? As far as Anomen had seen the bard fought quite well as it was.
“She can't be gone, Mich,” Jaheira was saying. “Maybe if you replaced the mask…”
“No!” Michelaea interrupted vehemently. “She's gone and nothing will bring her back!”
“You just haven't thought about this properly, Michelaea.” Jaheira said, trying to sooth the bard.
“PROPERLY?!!” Michelaea screeched. “DON'T YOU TELL ME WHAT IS 'PROPER' ABOUT MY OWN MIND!!”
“My lady…” Anomen tried to calm the suddenly angry young woman.
“YOU KEEP OUT OF THIS PRIEST!!!” She turned on him.
Jaheira's face turned stony. “I want to speak to Shankill,” She said firmly. “Talk to me Shankill, Shankill I need to talk to her.”
Anomen watch as the repetition of the name seemed to cause a complete change in the bard. All of her anger vanished, she straightened herself and calmly turned to the druid.
“You wish to chat, Jaheira?” The bard's voice was odd, deeper, more masculine.
“Can you tell me what's happened to Harliquin?” Jaheira asked.
Shankill frowned. “Irenicus has done more to us than we originally thought. There's quite a few scars left from his 'experiments'. Milani hasn't stopped crying since our escape, Fraarec wants to tear everything in sight apart and I'd rather not even consider Gorred's opinion.” Shankill picked up one of the broken pieces on the table. “Breaking the mask was just the last straw that has sent Harliquin so deep that not even the bravest of us are willing to follow her and bring her back.”
“Michelaea said she's lost skills with Harliquin's disappearance,” Jaheira said. “Is there any way to recover them?”
Shankill shook his head. “Only bringing Harliquin back could restore them.”
“And that sounds next impossible!” Jaheira sighed.
“Not completely,” Shankill raised a finger. “Harliquin may return if the mask was repaired. As long as the original pieces were used.”
“Thank Silvanas,” Jaheira declared. “We don't need Michelaea giving up over something like this, Imoen's safety is dependant on her.”
“I don't doubt it.” Shankill commented. “I think Michelaea has calmed down. I think she heard my assessment of the chances of bringing Harliquin back, She wants control again.”
“Ask long as she's calm,” Jaheira waved her hand in agreement.
Anomen watched, slightly alarmed as the bard slumped in her chair, looking as if she had fainted completely. He reached over to touch her but she suddenly sat up again.
Michelaea shakily picked up a piece of the mask in front of her, a faint look of hope on her face. “I can get her back…” She murmured.
“Yes you probably can but it isn't going to help if you don't eat,” Jaheira pushed the plate of food she had brought in front of Michelaea.
Anomen watched as the bard started eating, more questions in his mind about her than before.
Okay, a few of Mich's other personas got mentioned in here: Milani, Fraarec, Gorred & Shankill.
I hope to be able to collect plenty more to confuse poor Helm-boy with as I go! *giggles*
