Jump to content


Part 6


  • Please log in to reply
No replies to this topic

#1 Guest_Flarn_*

Posted 18 May 2003 - 11:34 PM

Renewal. It was the furthest thought from Alyndria's mind on a day such as this. Though the sun shone, it seemed a mockery. And yet, a fragment of that long ago day remained, one which she had not been certain what to do with until this very second. "Khalid?"

"Yes, Alyndria?"

"Before we begin, there is something..."

"Excuse me," Elminster murmured, "I will go join the others."

"...something I think you should have," Alyndria finished, fishing in her belt pouch to pull out a golden object on a leather thong.

Khalid stared, tears gleaming again in his eyes, far brighter than the tarnished gold of Jaheira's wedding ring. "How?"

"Imoen found it on one of the bodies - you seemed so upset at the time, I thought I would keep it to give it to you later. But you should have it, I wish we could have found yours, but..." Alyndria's voice faltered. "I put it on a cord, in case you would like to... have it close to you."

Khalid's answer was bend a little to let her slip the cord over his dark head. Her hands shook as she felt a single hot tear - his - scald her fingertips. How different this day from the first time she had presented this ring - then his dark eyes had been aflame instead of awash, his whole being, his very soul alight with love for a woman, the love of his life... And here they were now, in this place, come to bury her.

Khalid tucked the ring inside his armour and tunic, and surprisingly, looked a little stronger for it, as he patted the place where it rested - somewhere just over his heart. Jaheira had said that rings were merely symbols, and perhaps this was true, but for Khalid, a symbol was all that remained. "Thank you," he whispered, voice trembling. "I think it is time."

Someone had already dug the grave. The scent of earth was heavy in the air, dark and strong, but curiously clean - far better, truly, than leaving her in the darkness and stench of death.

Wrapped in graveclothes, more donated rags, Jaheira lay as if sleeping before the hole that would receive her, placed there gently by an unusually solemn Minsc. There were no flowers, picked, torn in the height of their beauty and left to die as Jaheira had died - her Druid heritage would have reviled the notion, and it pleased Alyndria that the others appeared to have realized this as well.

As she and Khalid approached the group of mourners, Alyndria felt herself suddenly, desperately missing Imoen - recalling the subtle strength which had helped her so much. The day they had buried Gorion, they had not been able to do more than dig a shallow grave and mound it with stones, but with Imoen there, it had seemed possible that she might survive. Now, though there were many to assist, yet still the many souls staring back at her seemed but a wall of silence, waiting expectantly for divine grace to fall upon this misery.

Khalid gave her elbow a surreptitious pat and retired to a place with the rest.

Total silence, yet slowly it became filled with Nature. The cries of birds, the whisper of wind in leaves, the drowsing hum of insects, She drew up her mantle, enfolding it around Herself, and came into the place which many mortal eyes would not have seen as anything especially remarkable. It became Her Temple.

In Candlekeep's isolation, Alyndria had become reasonably conversant with nature - it lay just beyond the walls, the sea with its bleak, harsh wild cliffs, the cries of seabirds, and then the slow, silent stretch of the forest beyond the gates, grasping travellers like fingers, unwilling to let them escape into that manufactured world of mortal hands, of dead paper and cold, hewn stone. Perhaps it was Gorion's tales of adventure in the wilds, or her own elven half, but she had never been able to do other than love it, although she had not seen before the allure of worship in tree, and earth, in the creatures that crept, and swam and flew. It was primordial beauty, but...

Her opinions had changed somewhat on the road - yes, the creations of mortals were fine, but did they not also originate, each and every living being, in this unmodified state which civilization seemed at times to strive to drive away forever? The answer was not so simple as to destroy one or the other, but to maintain a balance - Jaheira had taught her that, although some of the other things she would have had balanced, well, those, Alyndria never quite understood.

There were answers out there that Alyndria knew she had not even begun to touch. Perhaps even the very answer she sought lay in the woodland around her, that went on, brightly, gloriously. If Jaheira had been there, she would have explained it, surely... But she was not, and that was why she, Alyndria, stood there, seething with grief, and unable to find a thing to
say.

Oh why did it not rain? Why did Nature not weep at the loss of Her Defender? Because there were more. Because there always would be more to take up the cause. Harsh, cold, heartless... beauty of jagged cliffs, falling from heights, dashing one's brains out upon unyielding stone... tooth and claw and nail, the rending, tearing of flesh to feed the cruel cycle that would never end...

Never end... the changing seasons, the trees, in their leaves, in their fire, in their winter nakedness, in their ash, where sleeps a tiny seed...

Never ending.

The gathering was shifting nervously as Alyndria finally took a breath to speak. "I stayed up late last night trying to think of how I was going to do this. Bury my friend. I thought about going to a library, and looking up a service, but Jaheira was a Druid, and I'm not sure how she felt about all those trees turned into paper." There were a few watery chuckles at this.

"Unlike meddlers like me who are always trying to do good, Jaheira, as a Druid, believed in balance above all things. In this sad, sad time I know I'm thinking 'I know her death didn't accomplish anything good'..." she swallowed, catching her breath as a sob threatened, "but the fact is that I really can't see how her death could have served even the purpose of balance. So what purpose did her death serve? Most of us now, when we are hurting so much, would say... well, they'd say 'nothing at all.'

"I remember a night, not long after Khalid and Jaheira joined me and Imoen in our travels. We were in Nashkel, after the mines had been reopened. And I was hurting then too, because my father, Gorion - some of you knew him - had just died. The others were at the Fair, but Khalid and I sat and talked in the inn taproom. I tried cider for the first time that night, and I didn't realize how strong it was, so I had a bit too much, and poor Khalid was left with the task of carrying me off to bed.
"
He left me with Jaheira, whom we thought was already sleeping, but she was awake. She didn't scream or shout, but she did tell me a story. A story about apples, how they grow through the summer, and then in the autumn, just as the weather is getting cold before winter dark, and just as they are at their sweetest, they fall to the ground. We might say the same of Jaheira, that she fell in a moment when she was perfect, and now all we are left to look forward to is the darkness of winter, of the time..." Alyndria wiped at her eyes which had begun to fill again, "...without her.

"But I haven't finished the story yet. For when the apple falls, nothing is wasted, it feeds the woodland creatures, and whatever they don't take returns to the soil, feeding the tree that grew it. Continuing the cycle of life. It is the same with Jaheira, there is a part of her death will never take, a part of her soul that returns to ours. Jaheira is not really leaving us, she is becoming part of us, just as she always has been, and always will be, as long as we remember her with the love we bear her, with the love that grew in us just by being near her in the summer of her life, when she nourished us with her friendship, her wisdom, her companionship," she looked at Khalid, "and her love. We will mourn for our friend all the same, even knowing in our hearts that if she were here, she would tell us that we shouldn't. And the reason is because she has gone on to a greater part, become a greater link in the cycle of Nature than any of us single, small beings could ever imagine."

Part way through her speech, Alyndria had given up on trying to stem her tears - they flowed down her face unbidden, licked by the wind. "I - I really don't know what else to say. If anyone has something they would like to share..."

"I do," a woman said.

And so each took a turn to remember Jaheira, in some cases revealing sides to her friend that Alyndria had not been aware of - some of the stories were touching, and some humorous, including an instance where Jaheira had been forced to live with blue skin for the better part of a month as the result of a Harper plan to put down a Sirine smuggling ring.

When everyone had a chance to say something, Alyndria prepared to say the
final blessing...

"Not yet," Khalid interjected hesitantly. "I have something I wish to share as well." He stepped forward, regarding the group and swallowing as he took them all in. "I... My association with Jaheira began under rather life-changing circumstances... that is, she saved my life. It didn't take long for me to realize that what I felt for her was more than simple gratitude, though. She was a remarkable woman, strong, beautiful, determined, defiant... we became close, which still amazes me to no end. Not too long after, she had to go away... and I was sure she would not come back - I couldn't believe that a woman like her could feel the same for me as I did for her. So, as a promise that she intended to return, she gave me a book... this was not just any book...

"When Jaheira was growing up amongst the Druids, each of the young ones kept a book of simple earth magics, to practice the skills they would need later as protectors of Nature. These books are a little like a mage's spellbook, full of notes, and spell ingredients, experiences with wild creatures... Unfortunately Jaheira's was lost in our most recent adventure along with our other belongings. But I can still remember some of what the book contained... One of the things Jaheira had copied into her book was a bit of poetry she told me came from an old story someone told her..." The fighter pulled a wrinkled scrap of paper from his worn belt pouch and began to read. It was not the finest recitation Alyndria had ever heard, carefully, painfully slow, but it was also full of feeling - and not once did Khalid's voice falter in his last tribute to his love:

" The thrush admits a woeful note
The blackbird makes his wail
The dear makes sad moan
And the stag laments that his doe has died
Sore suffering to me is the death of the heroine
The death of she who used to lie by my side
Now she lies dead beside me swept by the waves
She who was so delightful to me. "

Calmly, methodically, Khalid folded up the paper again, and advanced upon the empty, yawning gape of earth that would be Jaheira's grave. There was a tension in him which was belied as he simply let the paper drop, spiralling down into the ground with an odd, graceful finality. He knelt beside Jaheira, touching her face through the cloth, and then looked toward Alyndria, his dark eyes importuning her...

She spoke the words of the Blessing, casting it over the crowd, the violet magic and Light, saw Khalid's eyes close for just a moment as the effects touched him, saw him turn away as it faded again, as the helpful faceless ones who had dug the grave now advanced to fill it again.

He watched a little more, til Jaheira was lowered into the ground, but when they would have let him throw the first handful of dirt he turned and walked
away.

"It was a beautiful service you did, my child." A reedy but melodious voice
entoned, as Alyndria heard footsteps approach. "If I didn't know better, I would say you were a Druid yourself - Jaheira would have been pleased with your words."

"Ah, Entillis Fulsom," Alyndria murmured, remembering the last time she had met the kindly old Harper - in Baldur's Gate, in the time when she could still have called herself just a little innocent. Why then, she hadn't even known who her Sire was... only that she had a little bad blood, such as anyone might have.

And Jaheira had been with them then.

Alyndria's heart twisted as she regarded his age-worn face and felt tears begin again. /What must it be for this poor old man, who held her as a baby, and expected she would be the one to outlive him?/

"Khalid," the elder went on, as the fighter approached, "I am sorry... There was no one more dear to this old man's heart than Jaheira - ever since she was but a tiny brown child with her hair full of twigs. I trust she died as she lived: in beauty and in defiance.... But I tarry too long here when serious business awaits me elsewhere..." He patted Alyndria on the shoulder, leaning in close to whisper. "Care for Khalid in his grieving, Alyndria, he has suffered much."

"I could do nothing else," Alyndria told him softly.




When the grave had been filled in, the group of Harpers began to take their leave - some, with the help of Elminster, disappeared outright, in version of the teleportation spell used by the Cowled Wizards, though Alyndria suspected the elder mage's magic was even more powerful.

At last, only she, Minsc, Khalid and Yoshimo remained, staring at the mound of new turned earth.

"I wish I knew some cantrips for growing grass or flowers," Alyndria whispered, into the wind, so softly she was sure that none heard, "or maybe a few apple seeds."

"Nature will see to that," Khalid replied, just as quietly.

Minsc knelt near the grave, making his own private farewells. Alyndria suspected this spot had become for him as much a memorial for Dynaheir as for Jaheira. It was painfully difficult to believe the mage had also been taken from them, with no body to recover, no proof, save that poor Minsc had seen...

/Too many, Oghma, this knowledge I would as soon I never had. If wisdom belongs only to the learned, then perhaps I want no more part of it.../

She remembered what Talev called her, a fellow servant of the Crying God -
perhaps in a sense she was, always had been. She hated to see people hurt - but while it shamed her to realize it, her opinion of the Ilmatari had been more than slightly coloured by the missionary she and the group had chanced across by the Firewine Bridge. He had not been one of the most open minded of individuals - nothing troubled Alyndria more than people moralizing about such trivial things as whether or not a person chose to practice magic... Many people had respectable careers, did all the "right" things, knew all the "right" people, avoided all manner of moral traps and so-called immoral indulgences and yet were naught but hollow shells. A person's worthiness shouldn't be about what they did for a living, how they ate, or how they disported themselves in the privacy of their own beds, but how they treated others, how they respected their fellow beings and cared for them.

Ilmater, lord of suffering... the more adherents of His she met, the more Alyndria found herself admiring the faith for the simple, powerful beauty which lay at the heart of it, a beauty which remained, despite fanatics, who in their ignorance and fear blindly, and often unknowingly worked to corrupt it. Those poor souls were to be pitied.

Again her eyes were drawn to Minsc, as he let Boo down to investigate the grave.

Knowledge was knowledge, no matter the form or shape of it, no matter the price exacted in blood and tears, currency far more dear than meaningless gold... How could she, after this, address the one she had called Lord all this time? His Gift had been knowledge, of her heritage, of herself. For those, the Darkness and the Light - one the fear of her heart, the other the hope she still carried within her - for those, she owed Him a debt of gratitude. For the other, knowledge of death, and loss - Khalid's face, Minsc's, a mask of glass and tears - the best she could hope was that she could find grace in facing them, find strength, somehow, to face them. And that could never come from Him.

But who then? /Ilmater... Have You Called me thus? By taking away what I have loved, do You think to draw me closer? Closer to You, and further from my Blood?/

"Minsc?" Alyndria approached the crouched Berserker who turned his face away from her, furtive swift, as if he were angry.

"Dynaheir knew what was in your heart, yours and Imoen's," the Rashemi warrior whispered roughly. "It warmed her as it does me, and Boo. We were strangers in your land, and you made us friends - a thing which could not have been easy, for Boo knows I am stranger than most."

"You're perfect, Minsc," Alyndria replied softly. "Just as you are. And I will miss Dynaheir so very much..."

"No more," Minsc patted her arm. "No more of this talk. It makes little Boo sad. We will do good in Dynaheir's name, but not too much good in Jaheira's, as we always have, yes?"

"Of course, Minsc," Alyndria choked, amazed that she could cry after all the tears she had shed in the past two days. "And we will find the one that did
this and see that he never does it again."



They returned to Athkatla as silently as they had come - and though they no longer carried Jaheira's body with them, Alyndria wondered if her spirit might not have remained. If their friend was with them truly, there was no tangible awareness, no hint, no suggestion, merely a hope that lingered steadily beyond the edge of faith.

She *really* missed Imoen. When the nights had been really bad, they would share the same bedroll as they had when they were just children, holding each other against the terrors of the dark. Minsc had Dynaheir, and Khalid had Jaheira... but now all of them were alone in one form or another. She wondered idly if Yoshimo had a sweetheart who would turn up in their travels, but was not inclined to ask - especially not after she had rather curtly rebuffed his own inquiries about her past. She felt a little guilty for that, but there was something... pointed about his questions which made her extremely uncomfortable.

"Khalid... I'm sorry to disturb you," Alyndria began, falling back to speak with the fighter.

"Not at all," he smiled bleakly. "The distraction is welcome."

"When you saw the marketplace, you knew we were in Athkatla as Yoshimo suggested..."

"Yes, I have been here before. With Jaheira."

"I'm sorry, I should have known..."

"Don't be... I'm afraid if you tried to avoid all the parts of my life which included Jaheira, there would be very little to talk about. When you have been with someone for so long, every place has a memory..."

"And Athkatla? What kind of memories does it have?" she asked.

"Good ones, until now... It's been five years, little seems to have changed."

"So you could tell me a few things - like where would be a good place to sell off the things we left with Talev?"

"I could," Khalid said. "I know just the place."



"Ribald Barterman at your service, I - "

"A fine day to you," Khalid replied, as the shopkeep stared at him in
surprise.

"And to you, Mister Khalid," the man answered. He had a comfortable face which bore unmistakable traces of elven blood - he also looked a fair bit older than Khalid, though younger than Gorion, appearing to be about fifty-four by Human reckoning. By elven reckoning his true age in Human years was anyone's guess. "Ye'll not bring Harper trouble to me doorstep, good sir... might I remind ye that me days of involvement with yer kin are long over?"

"This visit is purely unofficial - we're here to do business."

"In that case welcome, good customers. I haven't seen you in *ages* - how's life on the road treating you? And where is your lovely wife?"

Khalid didn't answer, and Alyndria felt extremely awkward.

The shopkeep glanced between Khalid and Alyndria. "Oh, how terribly gauche of me... you'd think after all these years I'd know better."

"You are mistaken, Sir," Alyndria finally found her voice. "I am not... it is not what you think. It's just that... Jaheira..."

The expression on Khalid's face must have finished the rest, because the older adventurer's face betrayed a note of genuine discomfort.

"Now that is grave news... grave news indeed. Oh my, that... really isn't the kind of news I expected when I saw it was you. You have my *deepest* sympathies," said Ribald, the faint lines of his face etching slightly
deeper.

"Thank you," said Khalid, pausing for a moment to swallow. "I should introduce my companions - this is Alyndria, she is the daughter of an old friend - a priestess of Oghma, and a reluctant, though gifted practioner of
the Art..."

"Is that so, lady? Then why are you all clunked up in that armour, hmm?"

"That would be the reluctance," Khalid told Ribald meaningfully.

"I hardly think reluctance is out of place here," Alyndria exclaimed indignantly. "The Cowled Wizards took away my friend yesterday for casting spells in self-defence."

"Ye gods," the shopkeep shook his head sadly. "Are you sure no one has
cursed you?"

"Sometimes I wonder," Alyndria said. "Would you happen to know anything
about the people that took her?"

Ribald shook his head. "Nothing, except that we all steer clear of upsetting them. They always get the strangers, though, people who don't know just how many of 'em seem to store their magic wands right up their... ahem... yes... See, a friend came in from Riatavin about a year back, a mage named Terce. His mule had gone lame, and he'd summoned a floating disc to carry his supplies.

"They captured him, of course. Terce should have known better... I'm sure
he thought a disc was harmless enough, but those wizards are strict about
their licenses.

"I tried looking for him, but the Cowled Wizards aren't easy to find... nobody knows where they stay, here. And they never let out where their magical prison is.

"It's a travesty that the Council gives them so much power. Mystra only knows what they do with their prisoners. Wish I could help you more, but I never heard from Terce again."

Alyndria frowned. "That is a tale as sad as our own. But I intend that mine will have a happy ending. No matter what I have to do. We will keep an eye out for your friend in our quest, Ribald Barterman."

Gravely, the former adventurer sketched a courtly bow. "If you find him, lady, I'll be forever in your debt - might even give you a discount or two." The seriousness of the man's tone belied the flippancy of his words. "You sure got a determined one, there, Khalid. I like 'em with plenty of fire, if you don't mind me saying so, Miss Alyndria - unfortunately, unlike Khalid here, I'm not Calimshite and I don't think my wife would understand if I came home one day with some company for her."

"I wouldn't want to get you in trouble," Alyndria replied, feeling herself blush. "We really must get down to business though - we've a few items we acquired recently that we'd like to turn into some coin."

"A friend of Khalid's is a friend of mine - I'll do my best for you. Let's see what you have for me, hmm..."

When their goods had been exchanged for gold - and little enough of that, Ribald drove a hard bargain - Alyndria and the rest wandered about the shop, admiring the goods which were for the most part out of their reach. There were a few very interesting looking flails which tempted her, even though lately she'd come to enjoy the more predictable stability of a well-balanced morningstar - but even one of the items she considered would have taken the entire contents of the group's purse. Finally she settled on a magically enhanced gem bag - trying to view the exorbitant price as an investment, seeing as it would allow the group to carry more spoils, which would bring in the gold they so desperately needed to properly furnish their quest to find Imoen.

She caught Khalid watching her as she inspected Ribald's collection of magic scrolls, and found herself guiltily retreating, though the reason eluded her.

She climbed the stairs towards the back, and felt her heart leap to her throat as she came face to face with a pair of yellow eyes, in a scaled face that hovered regally at the same level as her own. Fetid, rank-meat breath caused her gorge to rise as she backed away in shock, staring mutely at the small, live wyvern who returned her fearful gaze with one of proud disdain. "I, oh - could you be a... pet?"

"Aye missy, that there's Lucy," Ribald called. "Pay her no mind."

/Easy for you to say,/ Alyndria thought, remembering, with a not-so-faint twinge of guilt, the wyverns they had faced in the Cloakwood. The population was thriving - doing a little too well - by culling livestock and terrorizing the local farming communities. There had been several deaths, and even Jaheira admitted the winged lizard population needed
controlling.

Still, she couldn't help but be shaken by the scene at the beasts' cavern - the giant creatures they had fought, which Alyndria had assumed were mature adults, had been dwarfed by two much larger carcasses. What once had been proud and noble beasts were now nothing more than twin hills of rotting, maggot-ridden meat, smeared with gore, bristling with the arrows that had taken them down. And the supposed "giants" Alyndria's group had killed... their orphaned young, forced to forage on their own after someone else had come earlier and deprived the fledglings of their parents' nurturing.

Jaheira had wept over the little ones, and something inside Alyndria had broken at the Druid's tears, and at the barbarity of her own actions, though at the time they had seemed right. Poor creatures... they had been formidable foes, and had fought well, but were no match for humanoid cunning.

Alyndria browsed the stacks of books, lost in her memories, when suddenly she was jostled out of her reverie by the impact of another body with hers.

"Hello there," a silken voice purred, "I have been watching you since you entered. I suspect you may have need of my wares."

Alyndria looked up, captured instantly by pale gold eyes, predatory as any wyvern's. The elegant pale blonde woman before her exuded worldliness as if it were perfume - and exuded even more of that. So *that's* what that smell was... She had been sure that someone had spilled most of the spell components... er, cooking supplies, Ribald kept on hand, though how any such combination of ingredients could be used for cooking was anyone's guess. Just a whiff of the overpowering olfactory "stew" assaulting her nostrils - attar of roses, musk, ambergris, bergamot, pungent violet, all roiling together, wafting like the spray of a skunk - was enough to turn her stomach and make her go unpleasantly light-headed.

/Don't people know perfume is no substitute for a proper bath?/ she wondered, forcing herself not to wrinkle her nose as the woman drew her further into the seclusion between two bookshelves. "Er, what do you sell...?"

"Magical scrolls," said the scented lady. "Illegal of course, which is why I must charge so much for them." Alyndria did not miss the meaningful dart of eyes to a spot below her waist, where her pouch hung, looking deceptively full.

"Have you no fear of the Cowled Wizards?" she asked. Perhaps it was worth bearing the stench if she could get some information in the bargain.

"Those pompous fools? They are as corrupt as anyone else in this city if you know who to talk to. Now are you interested - "

"Perhaps you could tell me who to talk to amongst the Cowled Wizards," Alyndria suggested, giving the woman her best ingénue smile, infusing her voice with as much false deference as she could muster. "I'd be *very* interested in that."

"Aye, I'd imagine you would be..."

Alyndria continued to look both humble and hopeful until her cheeks hurt. /I am not paying a bribe to a walking perfumery./

Finally the woman waved her hand dismissively. "One of the wizards by the name of Corneil decides who gets licenses to use magic. You can probably find him in the Government District. Bring plenty of money if you go to see him... Now - "

"Yes, please do show me what you have to sell," Alyndria replied with forced congeniality. "I certainly won't have money to spend after I pay him a visit."

Privately, Alyndria had to admit that the woman's collection of scrolls were even more impressive than Ribald's, though a lot of the spells were too far advanced for her to even contemplate. She could probably copy at least a few of them into her now sadly depleted spellbook, but experience told her she would have a splitting headache afterwards. As for casting them, that would not be for the foreseeable future. Regretfully, she relinquished the intriguing parchments, although...

"Would you happen to have an extra one of those cases for sale?" she asked. "I try to protect my scrolls, but they always seem to get battered by something or other that I am carrying as well."

When Alyndria emerged from the shadows of the bookshelves, it was with an even lighter purse, and an inner promise to keep a tighter rein on said purse strings until they had once again established a cash flow that went *both* ways.

"What do you have there?"

"Oh, Khalid, I didn't see you there... well, I was just having a little talk with this woman, who told me something very interesting about the wizards who kidnapped Imoen and Ribald's friend - "

"You're avoiding the question, Alyndria. Why?"

"It's a scroll case, alright," she replied mutinously. "I wasted our money on a scroll case. Two hundred and sixty-four gold pieces, or over a fortnight's luxury accommodation at the Jovial Juggler in Beregost. Would you like me to break it down further? Fifty tankards of Evermead - enough for all four of us to drink ourselves to death and back again. Further still? Two hundred and sixty four boiled leather breastplates - enough to outfit an army of thieves. Are you happy?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact I am," Khalid replied with a small smile. Despite her outburst he seemed completely unperturbed. In fact, he looked the happiest she had seen him since the moment when she had awoken in Irenicus' prison, and his tongue tripped even more than usual as he rushed to express his delight. "And I think it is a reasonable purchase for a magic user, who must keep the tools of her trade protected. As you may have noticed, our group now lacks a mage. I am happy to know you have decided to take over the function. I do believe Ribald has a robe that will fit you, it's even trimmed with green - "

"I am not 'taking over' anything, Khalid," Alyndria ground out. "I simply want to have a place to keep the scrolls we find until we can *sell* them."

The disappointment in his dark eyes was immediate, and it filled Alyndria with shame. Khalid shook his head, regarding her with an expression of pity. "I had hoped you would get over this fear of yours with time. Your gift is great, and yet you flee from it. Imoen has had to work much harder for hers, but she has welcomed it."

"And look where it got her, Khalid! Just look! We don't know where she is, or if she's even still alive..." She cut herself off as she realized people were staring, eyes drawn by her outburst. "Excuse me. I need some fresh air." Keeping her eyes straight ahead, she made her way towards the door, stepping gratefully out into the crowded market, the blessed sea of meandering life where no one knew - or cared - about her inner turmoil.

The bustle of the promenade swept over her like a wave. The cries of the vendors, the day to day banalities of the people who came to shop, it was all so blessedly normal.

Dimly she heard the others call out her name, but she paid them no heed, crossing through the throngs, feeling an uncommon streak of rebellion. /Let them follow if they wish - right now I am not inclined to wait for them./

The caged beast drew her like a moth to a flame. Tall, taller than a man, a towering behemoth, forest king, the moose was a giant dwarfed, cowed by his cage. The scent that wafted from his enclosure was the stench of captivity, and it was rank indeed: feces and urine, mouldy hay, animal musk, fear.

A shudder ran through her as she observed, recalled her own state, not so long ago - in a cage of her own, painfully, intimately similar. One should not know the scent of one's own filth - a thousand times worse than any beast's.

Cages. Poor Imoen had gone from one to another, with barely a moment of open sky, of freedom before...

Further beyond, there was a large hunting cat, with dappled spots on his pale fur that nearly matched the pretty, auburn brown of Imoen's hair. A stronger scent clung to him: death, overlain with meat. He was drowsing, flat on his side, feet stretched out as if he were running. When she approached his cage, he did not growl as she might have supposed, but made a chirrup of curiosity and surprise, which reminded her very much of the cats at Candlekeep. With his great green eyes, his intelligent, almost bored gaze, he made her feel as if *she* was the one on display for *his* amusement, and not the other way around.

The serpent was the last, and it chilled her. She didn't like snakes, but this one was far too big to be considered mere vermin. You didn't crush a snake like this under your heel - it crushed you. Spiralling over and over, restless in the afternoon light, like a knotted coil, like a hangman's noose, its forked tongue licking at air, this beast did not regard her, did not care.

The pattern on its skin struck a sudden note of familiarity - the masklike face of her captor, so mobile, and yet so alien, as if he wore another's flesh.

"A handsome creature. He looks like he could wrap himself twice around the world, does he not?"

Alyndria started at the voice, so close behind her, hand going instinctively to the morningstar hanging from her belt as she turned around. Her glare must have been uncharacteristically fierce, because when she faced her assailant - who turned out to be Yoshimo - he took a wary step back.

"Oh, it's you, Yoshimo - you surprised me."

"For one who is not a warrior, your instincts aren't bad," he pronounced. "But neither are they especially good. I could have easily slit your throat while you watched our little friend there, hmm? You should not have run off
alone..."

"I think you should mind your own business," she replied ungraciously. "I've never met anyone who has tried to become so familiar so quickly. First you ask about my childhood, and then about my father - I think you already know far too much of me for our short acquaintance."

"I apologize if I have offended, Alyndria. It was not my intention. But as you have recently become aware - the life of an adventurer is dangerous, and often short. I like to make it my business to know about those with whom I may very shortly die. From what I do know of you, and from what I have recently seen - I could follow your banner from battle into death with few regrets. If you do not feel the same about me, please tell me, and I will take my leave with no bitterness towards you."

Now it was Alyndria's turn for contrition, as she regarded the solemn figure of the bounty hunter before her. "I think it is I who must apologize. I know its no excuse, but these last few days... I'm afraid I don't know yet how I feel about you, Yoshimo, I cannot be other than honest. But I think from what I have recently seen, and what I do know of you, I am willing to take the chance to find out more."

"You will not regret it," Yoshimo promised.

"Alyndria!" Minsc was next to arrive, his heavy brow furrowed. "You should not have run off without telling us. Boo was worried - and worried hamsters are messy!"

Khalid was a little slower in arriving, but arrive he did, and Alyndria was left facing a trio of bewildered and overly protective malefolk.

Being the only woman in the group was definitely *not* the way to go, and Alyndria vowed, then and there, to acquire another female ally as soon as a suitable candidate presented herself.

"Alright then, let's move out - we've got wizards to find!" Alyndria strolled boldly forward, then stopped. "Er, how do you get out of this place?"

"Ummm, perhaps you might try... that way?" Khalid offered timidly.

There was a distinctly apologetic look in his dark eyes that Alyndria didn't want to deal with just then. "Thank you."

They passed the animals again, and Alyndria paused for one last look at the drowsing, spotted cat, careful not to venture too close to the bars. As she took a step back, she collided with a solid male form, and heard a scream of fright.

She turned around, seeing a tall man cowering down at her, if such a thing were possible. Apparently it was, for the poor thing looked positively terrified - not an easy accomplishment for a person who had to be at least twice her weight.

"Are you alright?" she asked the stranger. "What is the problem?"

"The problem?" the man asked, peering down at her through a fringe of wavy brown hair. "I was in the circus tent and I got out just in time. Just in time to save my life! Oh it was terrible!"

Alyndria glanced at the others.

"What happened?" Khalid asked.

"Well, I go by Tatu the Tiger Tamer. I was going to put on a show this morning but it got delayed because of a special performance. I don't know who the performer was. I was so mad about being delayed, you see. I stayed in the back and prepared my tigers... then their bodies began shifting before my eyes. The tent was shifting, disappearing, being replaced by things I had never seen before. I ran for the exit. I'm the only who got out, and no one else who went in has come back."

"I think we may have to look into this," said Alyndria, glancing at the others for confirmation.

"Oh, I wouldn't," said the erstwhile tiger tamer. "I think I'm going to start looking into a calmer line of work."

Alyndria regarded Khalid, Minsc and Yoshimo. "What do you think? We've handled worse than this sort of thing before..."

"We should at least go and have a look," Khalid replied.

They made their way towards the circus tent, its cheerful bulk doing nothing to betray its mysterious and sinister contents.

Outside they found a small boy, sniffling as he stared hopefully toward the entrance.

"Hello?" Alyndria asked hesitantly. "Are you alright?"

"My momma's still inside," wide green eyes met hers pleadingly. "They says she can't come out."

"Well..." Alyndria crouched down before the small, solemn figure, "One of the first lessons I learned when I grew up was to never, *ever* listen to people called 'they' anymore, it's usually a bad way to go. They don't know what they're talking about." She patted his shoulder. "Forget what they say. *We'll* see what we can do about your momma."

The little boy sniffed again, but nodded. "Okay, ma'am."

Minsc nodded his agreement. "I will find who took his mother and teach them a thing or three about decency, respect, and keeping their hands off people's parents."

"Khalid? Yoshimo?"

Both nodded as well.

After a brief, though heated discussion with the Amnish soldier guarding the tent's entrance, they finally managed to convince him they stood a chance of solving his problem, and gained grudging permission to go inside.

The shift from marketplace to tent interior was disconcerting to say the
least. To Alyndria's senses it was pure madness - the darkness, the high, vaulted ceilings that exceeded the actual clearance of the tent. Ahead of them lay a massive dome, that would have been hard pressed to fit into the promenade, let alone into the tent which they had entered.

Cautiously the group started across the bridge, when ominous laughter halted them.

The figure of a genie materialized before them and Alyndria fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Khalid? Do you know anything about this?"

"...Alyndria?" the fighter asked, perplexed. "Why would I?"

"I thought genies were from Calimshan - this is the third one we've seen in the past two days!"

"Aha! I see wayfarers have come to amuse Kalah!" the genie declared, with the typical flamboyance of its kind.

Just once Alyndria would have liked to have seen something different, a modest one, a timid one perhaps? The image of Khalid outfitted in the outlandish garb made her giggle quietly, although she had to admit that from what glimpses she'd had in the past there were parts of him that would certainly do it justice.

The genie peered at her, somewhat in annoyance at having failed to glean what it evidently deemed was a proper reaction, but the being went on doggedly nonetheless. "You must answer a riddle, naturally, ere I will allow you to pass this bridge. Are you ready to hear it?

"I'd prefer to know who this Kalah is before I play any of your games," Alyndria replied, smiling up at the creature, her voice perfectly mimicking its deceptively congenial tone.

"Kalah does not reveal himself to those who are not worthy," said the genie, with a dismissive wave of its hand. "Are you ready to begin?

Alyndria held her ground. "Before I begin, tell me why would I want to pass over this bridge."

"Because it is symbolic of your progression to enlightenment and understanding, fool," an unmistakeable note of irritation crept into its voice. "Are you ready to proceed?"

"Ummm... Alyndria, you may be wise not to try his patience further," Khalid whispered hesitantly.

"Very well," Alyndria told both man and genie.

"Excellent!" Ever mercurial, the genie grinned once again from ear to ear.

That these beings once ruled Calimshan astounded Alyndria, now that she had the opportunity to examine several at close range - she pitied their poor subjects, though fortunately that was thousands of years past. Dealing with one was bad enough... Attentively she listened as the being began to speak its riddle.

"A princess is as old as the prince will be when the princess is twice as old as the prince was when the princess' age was half the sum of their present age. Which of the following, then, could be true?"

Alyndria was at once profoundly grateful for the mathematics which had been drilled into her from an early age at Candlekeep, despite her penchant and preference for much less regimented subjects, such as history and language. "The prince is 30 and the princess is 40."

"Ah, you are correct. The mighty Kalah respects those with a most agile and quick mind. Proceed across with my blessing." The genie vanished in a swirl of light.

"Well that was simple enough," Alyndria said, as they entered the dome beyond. "...I don't like it."



"Who are you? Oh, whoever you are, you must flee this place at once!" The voice was lyrical, and female, but had no discernable source. The only person Alyndria could see nearby was not a person at all, but the towering form of an ogre.

The voice came again, unmistakeably from the ogre's direction. "He...he's killed everyone else who has come into this place, almost! Oh, please run!"

Alyndria frowned, staring at the creature. Never had she heard an ogre speak this way, or even utter much of anything intelligible at all. "How can a monster such as you have such a sweet voice?"

"I...I'm not a monster! I'm an elf, a winged elf...or at least I was..." the ogre persisted. Whatever he - she? - was, it was not a typical ogre, why the thing hadn't so much as advanced a step towards them. "This...this covering you see is some kind of illusion, but if you believe in it then it becomes real! P-please believe me! Now go before something happens to you, I beg of you!"

"Who is behind all of this? You said 'he has killed everyone' - who?"

"Kalah! Oh, I don't know what he's done, exactly, or how...but everything here is an illusion! But it's magic that can hurt you, if you believe in it... Oh, you probably don't understand, do you?"

Kalah - the same name the genie had mentioned earlier. Alyndria stood her ground. "Try me. I'm not going anywhere until I get an explanation."

"Oh, I hope you don't end up like...like the others! But, alright...my name is Aerie. I...work in the circus with my uncle, Quayle... I don't know exactly what happened, but everything changed a few days ago...everything became chaos and turned into what you see here. Although it all isn't real, it's an illusion... The minions...they all say they serve Kalah, so I know he's behind all of this...he's an illusionist in the circus, but I don't understand how he was able to do all of this! He must be stopped! Before he hurts any more people! Please...if...if you release me from my chains, I can help you stop him!"

Alyndria could see no sign of chains, but then, considering the level of illusion in this place, it hardly seemed worth mentioning. "How do I release you, then?"

"You...you need the key to these chains. But...but it won't look like a key! There are a couple of...commoners...in the north side of this chamber... Don't be fooled by the illusion, though...they are monsters! They have a sword which is actually my key...if you get it from them, I can remove the chain and regain my normal form! But please be careful! You...you can't trust anything you see, here!"

Alyndria frowned, toying with a strap on her armour thoughtfully. "Why can I not just dispel the illusions of this place?"

"I don't know..." Aerie said. "I tried, earlier, when this first happened. Kalah's spells are too powerful, somehow. He's...he's never been that good, though, so I don't know what he's done. If you free me, though, together we can find out and stop him! And...and hopefully rescue my Uncle, Quayle..."

"Don't worry, we're not going to leave anyone here. Just give us a moment and we'll be right back with your key."

"I don't know, Alyndria," Yoshimo whispered as they started off in the direction indicated by Aerie. "Can we trust her?"

"Can we trust anything our eyes tell us?" Alyndria replied. "When I saw her I was ready to attack, but... she can't be evil, she can't be..."

"Boo says witchpriest is right, she does not smell like any ogre..."

"So everyone keep your guard up. Don't attack anything - I'd rather take a few wounds than kill an innocent."

"And if the wounds are fatal?" Khalid asked, the tremor in his voice seeming to linger poignantly on the last word. "We still don't know... after what happened to Sarevok, if you can even be raised."

"This is not the time to worry about it," she told the fighter gently, resisting the impulse to make a flippant remark to hide her own concern. Anything she said now... with their losses still so painfully fresh. "I know I will be safe, with friends like you to guard my back, just as I guard yours."

A startled gasp from Yoshimo brought them all up short. A giant spider
blocked their path. Like many Alyndria and her companions had faced in the past, it was a strangely beautiful horror, its exoskeleton a mottled brilliant yellow and green, its two front legs up and rubbing together like a miser's hands. But unlike the many spiders they had faced, this one did not advance upon them, merely lingered, hesitant, in the archway as they approached.

"Remember what I said," Alyndria hissed, pulling out her sling and slipping a bullet inside, "let's go forward slowly and see what it does."

"Please don't hurt me!" a voice yelped.

Alyndria let out a small shriek herself, caught by surprise.

"Oh what am I to do?" came a female voice from the spider's direction.

"You don't seem like any creature we've encountered before," Khalid stammered.

"I'm NOT a creature!" the creature shouted, its tiny fangs twitching angrily. "Or at least I never used to be. Not until the circus and everything changed."

"Who are you then?" Alyndria asked.

"My name's Hannah. I came to the circus with my son, although he didn't come into the tent with me. Oh please help me!"

"Of course we'll help," said Alyndria. "Your son is waiting for you, and we promised him we would bring you back. But first, we need to get to the bottom of this mess."

"Well, I'll be right here. Waiting. Watch out for those awful peasants. Don't let them hurt you."

The two peasants proved to be monsters under their harmless appearances, just as both ogre and spider appeared to be harmless folk under their monstrous illusions. After a quick battle, the group secured both the sword-key, and a spell scroll, which Alyndria tucked away into her scroll case to examine later.

They returned quickly to the mysterious ogre. A winged elf, she had said she was underneath her unwanted cloak of illusion. Alyndria vaguely remembered something about winged elves in a long ago tale Gorion had told her. It would be interesting to meet one in the flesh...

"You...you have the key! Or, rather...the sword!" Aerie exclaimed excitedly. "Please...please give it to me and I can be rid of this illusionary form at last!"

"Of course," Alyndria said, offering the sword hilt-first.

"I thank you for your trust. This sword...it is actually a key that unlocks the chain that powers my horrible illusion." For a moment nothing happened,
and then a swirl of blue light seemed to cascade down the ogre's form, and the illusion seemed to melt, shrinking to reveal a much smaller female form. "My... My hands...my skin, it's real again!"

Real indeed - Aerie's natural form was as lovely as her ogre illusion had been hideous. She had the face of a child's porcelain doll - with wide, clear blue eyes that seemed almost too large, and bewildered against the delicate background of her other features, her lips full, yet small like rosebuds. Her honey coloured hair gleamed in the dim light, and imprisoned in the silken locks were beads and ribbons and coloured cord, which must have taken hours to put in. She wore no armour, only a robe of orange, trimmed with yellow that hinted at the grace of the slender form that lay beneath.

A quick glance at her companions told Alyndria that she wasn't the only one to have been stunned by the delicate beauty of the elfmaid they had rescued. But she had mentioned wings... curious - and slightly disturbing - for Alyndria could see none, and wings would need to be vast indeed to support the weight of a person.

"Thank Baervar!" said the elfmaid, seemingly ignorant of the effect she had on her rescuers. "Oh, we must find Quayle...and stop Kalah before he does any more harm!"

"You want to come with us?" Alyndria asked. "You don't even know our names."

"You could tell them to me," Aerie pointed out rationally.

"Yes, I suppose I could," Alyndria agreed. "This is Minsc, Yoshimo, Khalid, and I am Alyndria."

"Pleased to meet you," the other said, smiling. Alyndria could feel Aerie's inquisitive gaze linger on her face for a moment before moving on to Khalid's - she said nothing however, about their heritage, although Alyndria had unconsciously braced herself for it. Being called half-elf by the human population, and half-human by the elven did tend to force one to develop a thick skin. Or at least try to.

"I'm an acolyte of Baervan Wildwanderer - he's given me lots of healing spells, and I can do a little magic on my own too..." Aerie went on. "I won't drag you down, and I really want to help you find my uncle - he's all I've got left."

Alyndria felt a twinge as the elven girl revealed her life-paths, so clearly a match for Alyndria's own. Moreover, she seemed to be at ease with both - a guilty glance at Khalid caught him looking at her meaningfully. She shook her head in dismissal of whatever he was trying to convey, and regarded Aerie.

"Your skills will be most welcome then, as we are short a mage. Let's see if we can get to the bottom of this."




0 user(s) are reading this topic

0 members, 0 guests, 0 anonymous users

Skin Designed By Evanescence at IBSkin.com