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Leaving Home: Finale *READ FIRST*


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#1 Guest_kevtg_*

Posted 14 April 2001 - 09:27 AM

Hey all, this is the completion of a tale I started almost two months ago and then left hanging when I was forced into a month long hiatus. A few words first. This installment ended being really long (this installment clocks in at 15 typewritten pages). I leave it to y'all to decide if I'm being conceited or not. I just thank God it's finished and I can clean the whole thing up for the fanfic site.

Anyway, because of length between installments and pure length of the post itself, I'm going to divide things up. This post will serve as a "story so far" post, refreshing the memories of the old timers and bringing newcomers up to speed. There will be two subposts below this one. These will be the story itself divided up for easy reading. I also use a lot of history in this story. Coming tomorrow, I'm going to post notes going into the real history this story is based on and some technical notes on the weapons used in the story, because, well darn it, I just like writing about that sort of thing. ;)

 

The story starts in rural Michigan soon after the close of the American Civil War. Billy Soames is a Union Sharpshooter returning home. He had already lost a lot in the war. Both of his brothers were killed in the fighting and his siter and fiance died when smallpox went through his hometown. He gets home to find things are even worse. War speculators have forced his parents of their land and driven his father to suicide.

Billy takes matters into his own hands. A disagreement with railroad representatives ends in shooting and Billy is forced to flee. He doesn't make it far. He is ambushed by the county sheriff and two deputies in a creek bed.

During the ensuing standoff, something bizarre happens. A giant man made of iron stalks down the creekbed killing the sherrif and one of the deputies and then severely wounding the other. Under one of its arms, the iran man carries Lucas Carruthers, the town's resident eccentric.

Billy decides to follow the iron man. Lucas is a friend of his family and Billy knows that deaths of the Sheriff and the deputy will pinned on him if he does nothing. He trails the man to a huge sphere made of metal and follows it inside.

Inside, he witnesses an argument between Lucas and a man dressed in green robes. The green robed man does something to Lucas and then leaves the old man for dead. Billy tries to save him, but the old man is already dying. However, Billy discovers that old man's name is not Carruthers but is instead Corthala and is a descendent of Lavok, the man in green robes.

The Sphere travels before Billy can leave it. He is helped by three Solamnic knights who are also trapped in the SPhere. They've got problems of their own, though. They have been trapped for two weeks and their discipline is breaking down under the strain of isolation. The female leader of the knights, Reyna, sleeps armed for fear of rape and the two men are close to coming to blows over her.

The addition of Billy disrupts the group dynamics even more. Communicatation is difficult because Billy and the Knights do not share a language. Excerbating the situation are the lethality of Billy's guns. Reyna feels drawn to the young man both because of his realtive sanity and the security his weapons offer. But the two men distrust him for those same reasons.

Things are about to get worse. The master of the sphere, Lavok, is actually an entity that feeds on pain and suffering. The entity decides to take William for two reasons. First, Billy knew Lucas Corthala, and the entity wants to know if Lucas has any heirs. The entity's current shell is dying and it needs to inhabit a Corthala to maintain control of the Sphere. It seems Valygar is the only other Corthala left and he's proving difficult to obtain. The second reason the entity wasnts Billy is the interrogation is extremely painful.

In siezing Billy, the entity does two things. It requires the cooperation of the Athasian halflings, so it promises them their pick of the two male knights as dinner and to obtain the cooperation of the two male knights, it promises the sujugation of Reyna. The halflings choose to take Onvo, the largest of the two men, and Reyna is left alone with the other male, Ancan.

In order to make things interesting, the entity leaves one of Billys revolvers. It doeasn't care if Reyna is raped or Ancan is killed, as long as something painful happens. Reyna decides to turn the tables on the Entity though. She promises herself to Ancan if he helps her rescue Onvo and Billy. He agrees.

About this time, an unknown voice begins feeding Reyna information telepathically. She and Ancan go into the halflings room. Unfortunately, in the course of rescuing the other knight, Reyna fires four of the five shots in the revolver. She and Ancan are forced to retreat with Onvo.

Not long after they arrive back in their room, A group of adventurers led by the warrior, Keven, enter the Sphere. In their number is Valygar, Lavok's descendent. The two groups agree to help each other. At the voices urging, Reyna carries Billy rifle, which was left against.

Meanwhile, the entity is interrogating Billy. These interrogations involve forcing Billy to relive specific memories. In the process of this, Billy discovers that his younger brother, Johnny, is actually the product of an adulturous affair between his mother and Lucas Corthala. After this, the Entity forces Billy to relive the events leading up to his brothers death, which happened during the bloody 1864 drive on Richmond.

When the last installment ended, Reyna's knights and Keven's party are leaving to take on Lavok and Billy has just relived watching his best friend get shot and seeing his brothers regiment get mowed down at the Battle of Cold Harbor.


#2 Guest_kevtg_*

Posted 14 April 2001 - 09:41 AM

Let us bury our dead:

Since we may not of vantage or victory prate;

And our army, so grand in the onslaught of late,

All crippled has shrunk to its trenches instead,

For the carnage was great;

Let us bury our dead.


Private Delavan Miller

Written in the trenches outside Cold Harbor, Virginia, June 7 1864.

Reyna watched Onvo back away from the Iron Golem. She hadn't wanted to bring him along, but he had started screaming and crawling after them as soon as they tried leaving the room. Now, the big man pressed himself up against the wall in an effort to get as far away the thing as possible while staying as close as he could to the group. The Golem itself stood still as statue, its arms covered up to the elbows in greenish black ichor. At its feet lay the crumpled remains of something Jaheira had called a beholder. Reyna had never guessed that such a monstrosity existed, all eyes and floating and its death had released the most horrid smell, like a horse stable where the horse had died.

For two weeks the Iron Golem had been symbol of the wizards power over them, of their helplessness. When they had brought it to life, sent it smashing through the doors of the sphere, watched it beat the life from the beholder, she had exulted. However, no one in the group was sure what exactly they had done to bring it to life and now Reyna wondered if it was just another of the wizards cruel tricks.

“He's here,” Valygar whispered, standing in front of a door on the far side of the chamber, “just beyond this.”

“Are you sure,” Keven, the groups leader, asked. “How do you know?”

Valygar shook his head. “I'm not sure, just a sense.”

He's right, Reyna heard the voice in her head say. When it spoke, it did so with her father's voice. When it spoke, she could even see her father's face. It was not her father, though. It was something else.

Who are you? How do you know? Why are you pretending to be my father? She thought.

I'm not pretending, I'm hiding. Were I to reveal myself, I would be destroyed. As long as I speak to you through your memories, I'm safe. The voice answered.

Who are you hiding from? Reyna asked.

The one who awaits you beyond that door. I can help you defeat him but you must do as I say. He is flush with the power he has drawn from your William and he knows you are coming. The voice replied.

What would have me do?

When you pass through the door, you must stay back. Everyone else must go before you. I can give you one chance and one chance only. If you alone are not prepared to take it then he will destroy all of you.

Why am I so important? What about everyone else? Reyna pressed.

Because there is a link between you, William, and me, a link that our enemy knows nothing about. The others... they need to distract him, give us enough time to do what needs to be done.

Let me tell them, Reyna thought.

No! the voice replied. Our enemy will read my existence in their minds and restrain me. I have protected you but cannot the others. If there were another way, I would take it. I want no more death, my soul is stained bad enough. We just have no other choice.

“Everyone get ready then,” Keven said. His group, the huge warrior Minsc, the half-elven druid Jaheira, the slender Aerie, the shifty Yoshimo, and wizards own descendent Valygar, began dropping their packs, bedrolls and anything else that wasn't a weapon or something they wouldn't need in battle. She thought set some things aside herself. The bag that held spare charges for Williams guns was heavier than she thought and the long gun she held in her hands terrified her. She was even scared of the short gun thrust through her belt, even though she'd used it. Only one charge remained though, and she was scared to waste it.

She glanced over at Ancan and saw his eyes watching her. Reyna wondered what would happen when he crossed over to the next room. He'd been thrall to the wizard and she had been promised to the younger knight as some kind of reward. She'd thought she broken the wizards hold over him by making a promise of her own, but now, as with the Golem, she wondered.

“Everyone set?” Keven asked.

Everyone nodded except Minsc, who bellowed, “Yes! Minsc and Boo are ready to deliver a righteous butt-kicking to evil!” Reyna found herself envying the huge warrior, envying his simplicity, they way he viewed the world in such stark terms. Her world had stopped being black and white the moment she'd set foot in the sphere.

Keven smiled. “Thank you, Minsc. If Evil doesn't tremble at that, we're in sore shape. Let's do it Valygar.”

As with every other door in the sphere, all it took was the touch of Valygar's hand to slide silently open. Keven led the way through the door, sword drawn and Valygar close behind him with an arrow knocked to his bow. They were followed by Minsc, Jaheira, Arie and, finally, Yoshimo. Ancan started forward then glanced at her.

“Go,” she said, dropping a hand to the butt of the gun at her belt. A slight snarl touched his face and he went through the door.

Everyone else must go before you. The voice had said. She looked over to Onvo who had curled into a ball on the floor. She went and knelt beside him. When he looked up at her, he did so with the eyes of a small dog, frightened by the thunder. Tears streaked his cheeks and ran into his beard.

Reyna reached over and gently stroked his face. “We're not going far,” she said, “Just the next room. Stay here. You'll be safe.”

He covered her hand with his and she could see how much larger his was. Before this, he had been a big man, nearly as large as Minsc, but now that size seemed to have disappeared with the confidence that had propped him up for so long. She could feel his whole body trembling through that simple contact. She leaned in and softly kissed him on the forehead. “We'll be back,” she whispered.

“Thank you, thank you,” Onvo replied and curled back into his ball. Reyna turned and followed the others through the door.

The next room was bowl shaped. Stairs led down from the door to the mosaic tiled floor. Across the room stood a raised dais that was topped and surrounded by large, glowing glass tubes which provided the only light in the room. Reyna crouched at the top of the stairs, the long gun held in her lap. The rest of the group had fanned out across the floor.

“Lavok!” Valygar called. Only now that one of them moved, did Reyna realize there were figures on the dais. The figure who stood was a slim, dark haired man dressed in green robes. Then she saw William slumped against the railing, motionless. Her hands tightened on the gun. No, she thought.

Not yet. Wait, the voice told her.

“So nice of you to finally arrive, Valygar. I was beginning to think you would never get here,” The green robed man said.

“I've come to end the curse, Lavok,” Valygar replied.

“And you've brought friends to share it with you, how touching.” Lavok laughed, “Do you know what trouble I've gone to lure you here? Did you think you could've gotten this far if I didn't want you to? Your friends will feed me well, the Gods know they have problems enough, and your body will be mine. Which world should we terrorize first Valygar?”

“NOOO!” Reyna felt more than saw Onvo rush past her, screaming, with his sword held above his head. She stood to try and stop him.

No! Draw no attention to yourself! the voice warned her.

Onvo moved faster than she'd ever seen him move before. She didn't know if it was panic, rage or something else that made him move so fast, but he was past the group before any of them had a chance to react. Even Lavok seemed took a step backward.

The knight had taken his first step onto the staircase that led to the top of the dais, when Lavok struck. A bolt of blue, like lightning smashed into Onvo's chest, lining him in blue-purple fire. He collapsed, burning and screaming, to ground and the sick smell of burned meat filled the room.

“Bastard!” Valygar screamed and loosed his arrow. A white hot globe of power sprang into existence around Lavok and incinerated the arrow before it reached him. Reyna saw Aerie and Jaheira raise their arms, heard them speak and suddenly the air crackled with power. Lavok staggered under the attack but his shield did not break.

Reyna's knuckles were white as she gripped the gun. Every instinct she had told her to drop the long gun, draw the short one and bet everything on that one last charge. If she could only get close to hit...

You must wait! It is not yet time!

A door a third of the way around the room opened and creatures poured out. They were taller, taller than a man, and shaped vaguely like the mushrooms that occasionally sprouted in her mother's garden. Keven, Minsc and Ancan turned to face them. On the dais, Lavok had recovered from the women's attack and was preparing an attack of his own.

Wait! the voice told her.

Suddenly it seemed the air itself was burning.

 

The sun was nearly on the horizon when Joseph Tavis finally died.

Billy had known him since the company had mustered back in Lansing and he'd fought alongside him for three long years. They had survived more battles and more Generals than Billy could count. And he'd be alive now if Billy hadn't been foolish enough to try and save Johnny.

After the morning's disastrous assault, Billy had carried his wounded friend back behind the lines to the nearest hospital tent. The surgeon had taken one look at Joe, shook his head and pointed to a row of men lying on the ground outside the tent. No doctors or nurses moved among these men. It wasn't considered worth the effort. Billy laid him down and then sat beside him so he wouldn't die alone.

Billy hated hospitals. To him they were worse than battles. He turned his back so he couldn't see but he could still hear. He could still hear the moaning, the begging, and screaming. He could still hear the sound of the saws cutting through flesh and bone and he could still smell the stench of rot and whiskey. By noon, Joe had lost the power to speak, and though he still breathed, the only things to do were listen to the dying, watch the carrion birds circle the battlefield, and wonder how much larger the pile of discarded limbs outside the hospital would get.

But it was over now. Joe had gasped, gurgled, let out a long wheezing breath, and moved no more. Billy reached over, closed his eyelids and then pulled the pistol from his friend's belt. It was the only thing of value Joe had on him and Billy didn't want the gravediggers to get it. He stood over the body for a moment, just another in a long row of them, and he wondered if he should say anything. Then he realized he hadn't said word over a friend in two years and walked away from the hospital.

He shouldered his rifle and started walking back to lines. When the assault had ended that morning, the survivors had dug in where they lay, using knives, bayonets or even their hands as they sought shelter in mother earth from merciless Rebel guns on the heights. Even now, as the sun took its final look at the field below, Billy could still hear the sound of guns. Sometimes it was the dull thump of a cannon, or the brief clatter of a musket volley, but the worst was the single, solitary pops. The day wasn't even done and the sharpshooters were out, waiting for a man to show just enough target over a shallow trench or maybe even for one of the wounded trapped between the lines to move just enough to be noticeable. Or maybe it was a soldier showing just enough mercy to shoot a vulture off a dead or dying friend.

The sun had slipped below the horizon when Billy reached the swamp that Gibbon's Division had fought through earlier that morning. It was here that he found the huddled survivors of the Seventh. He wandered among the men asking a question: John Soames? Anybody seen John Soames? All around heads shook. One man, from Johnny's company, a man who had eaten, marched and fought alongside Johnny, stated baldly that he had never heard of the man. The final answer came when Billy saw a man playing a harmonica, the same harmonica Billy had sent home as a Christmas present two years ago. Billy moved on.

The swamp was different in the dark. The trees and leaves were shrouds of blackness that closed in on him muffling his senses. All around him, insects buzzed, chirped and sang their defiance at the violence around them. Here, Billy could almost believe he wasn't in the middle of a battle. But the bullet holes in the trees were there to remind him. The freshly exposed wood gleamed like bone in the light that seeped through the canopy.

Soon, the tries started thinning and he could catch glimpses of the field on the other side of the swamp. “Hey! Where you think you're goin' friend?” a voice hissed out at him.

Billy looked down and saw a man crouched behind a tree. Now that his attention was called to it, he could see others hiding at the edge of the tree line. “Out there,” Billy answered simply.

“The hell you are,” The man replied. “You'll be kilt 'fore you take two steps. Ain't nuthin' out there but sharpshooters.”

“I am a sharpshooter,” Billy said.

Billy could see the man's eyes harden. “Then goddamn you and the rest of your kind straight to hell,” The soldier said and turned away. Billy stepped past him.

Outside the canopy of the swamp, Billy felt naked and alone. He was now between the lines and not a thing moved. Any moment now, he expected to hear the sharp crack of a rifle, the whistle of a ball and feel the bright pain of the impact, but it didn't happen. If any Rebels saw him, they didn't think him worth a shot.

He slowly picked his way to the shattered remains of the fence. It was draped with bodies, both those shot while climbing over it to attack and those shot while climbing over it to retreat. Billy stopped here to take off his jacket. The field on the other side of the fence was drenched in moonlight and the coat's dark green color would make him far too tempting a target for a rebel sharpshooter. He left his rifle behind too, he wouldn't need it where he was going. All he took with him were the two revolvers and his canteen.

On the other side of the fence, the hillside was carpeted in bodies, they're blue uniforms making them mounds of black against a pale green sea of grass. Billy crawled slowly towards the path of dead that marked the last charge McKeen's Brigade. The first body he came across was a S. Lamb of Pennsylvania, his name and state sewn into the back of his coat. He was young, didn't even look like he was shaving yet. His eyes were wide and his mouth opened in the O of surprise. A hole was blown through his sternum.

Billy crawled on, moving slowly to avoid drawing any eyes from the heights. More names and places rolled by him, J. Smith from Connecticut, A. Corwin from Massachusetts, T. Baldwin from New York. A litany of people and the places they would never see again.

A hand grabbed his ankle with desperate strength. Billy rolled over onto his back and jerked the pistol from his belt. The face that stared back at him was a ruin. One eye was gone, a hole blacker than the night that surrounded them. Blood had caked on his cheeks and matted down the man's hair and beard. “Water,” The man gasped. Billy gently lowered the hammer on his gun and handed over his canteen. The wounded man grasped the canteen with a grubby hand and drank greedily.

A rifle shot rang out from the north and Billy cringed, waiting for the impact, but no bullet arrived. He peered north and thought that he could just barely make out the thin ghost of gun smoke as it marched towards the Union lines two hundred yards away. Billy even thought he could hear the faint sound of someone screaming. The night was then shattered by twenty Union muskets going off like a string firecrackers, their muzzle flashes like lightning in the dark.

The rebels answered in kind. The men firing were around a bend in the hill but Billy could see the flashes of their guns reflected in the smoke already twisting in between the lines. When the Union answer came it was more ragged but more massive, even the troops in the swamp opened fire. Somewhere behind him, a Rebel five or six pound artillery gun sent a round sizzling over his head only to be answered by four Union heavy guns.

On and on it went, the clattering of muskets, the earth-shaking booms of the artillery. Even projectiles had a sound, the buzz of the minie ball and the mournful shriek of the artillery shell providing accompaniment as the shooting crescendoed. All the while, ghostly shapes twisted in the smoke between the lines, dancing to the music of the guns.

It ended quickly though, both sides too apathetic to mount any serious engagement. By some unspoken agreement, both sides gradually ceased firing. The last shot was from a Union artillery piece, whose shot smashed into a Rebel rampart and did nothing more than throw dirt in the air. After that, quiet reigned once more on the battlefield.

Billy didn't move for some time after the shooting stopped. How long, he wasn't sure. He wasn't even sure if it was a long time. At some point in the engagement, the man who'd grabbed his leg died. The man was now lying on his back and his one intact eye stared up into the sky. The canteen had fallen from his grasp and was pouring its contents out into the mud. Billy left it and crawled on.

At last he came upon a face he recognized. It belonged to a boy named Andrew Ryder, a boy Billy and his older brother James used to tease at church. When Billy came upon, he looked to be sleeping until Billy rolled him over and discovered his left arm was missing. He was the same age as Johnny and Billy briefly wondered if they had joined together.

He was close to the Rebel lines now, close enough to hear them talk but not close enough to hear what they were saying. Billy moved slower now, partly from fear of being discovered and partly to look at every face. He stumbled across the Seventh Michigan's battle flag, so covered in mud it was almost unrecognizable and he knew he was close.

John Soames was lying face first underneath the bodies of two other men. Even from this angle, Billy could see the exit wound in the back of his neck. No, he thought, Not him. Billy pulled the bodies off his baby brother, for once not caring if the Rebels caught him. He turned the body over and looked into the eyes of his brother one more time.

Johnny's eyes were wide with fright and his face was twisted into a mask of agony. He'd known he was dying when it happened and it had taken time. Johnny's hands had been clapped around his throat when he was lying down and when Billy turned him over, they'd fallen enough so that Billy could see the hole in his adam's apple.

No, Dear God, not you. Not you too. Billy thought sat on his heels. He could feel himself trembling as the shock settled. Despite all the evidence he'd seen coming here, despite every instinct that cried out that his brother was dead, he had been able to hold out hope for a miracle. No more. He could feel tears well up inside him but he pushed them back. I won't do it. He thought. Not till it's over. The last time he'd cried was two years ago, when he got the letter saying his wife-to-be had succumbed to small pox.

I won't do it. He repeated. Not till I'm home.

(blink)

Billy felt himself on the edge of a precipice within his own mind. All around him his life flowed, rushing over the edge into an abyss that he couldn't see the bottom of.

Is that what you wanted to see you son of a bitch? Billy railed. I told you he's dead!

JUMP.

The command was overpowering, a force that pushed him inexorably towards the edge.

DID YOU TRULY THINK THIS WOULD BE THE END OF IT?

The abyss stared back at him. The blackness at the bottom suddenly seemed comforting and inviting. It pulled at him with almost the same force as that which pushed him.

JUMP.

Suddenly the edge was yanked away from him and he was falling. He now realized what awaited him at the bottom and screamed...

(blink)

It was the last day of July and it was hot. So little wind stirred the thick air of southern Virginia that the acrid clouds of gunsmoke seemed to have taken up a permanent residence. Even the cannon shots seemed muffled by the humidity as the day and night pounding of the city of Petersburg wore on.

Billy sat on a hillside with the other men in his company, their green coats unbuttoned and open in the late summer heat. He lay back and let the warmth lure him towards sleep. Nobody had slept the night before. Burnside's Folly they'd called it, a mine that ran underneath the four hundred feet separating the Union trenches from the Rebel defenses. Over three hundred kegs of black powder were packed into the end of the tunnel. The plan was, when the mine blew, the Rebel defenders would be so stunned that they could be taken in a rush.

It hadn't worked. The mine blew all right. It made such a sound and shook the ground so hard that some in the army thought Judgement Day itself had come and it blown the biggest Godawful hole anybody had ever seen in the Rebel lines. The problem was the unit that led the assault had been picked at the last minute. They only went first because nobody trusted the Colored regiment originally selected. The fools had charged into the crater instead of around it and had gotten trapped at the bottom. One of the rumors flying around camp said more men died at the bottom of that hole then had at Cold Harbor, two months ago. Another rumor said General Burnside had been relieved and was on his way to Washington. As far as Billy was concerned, it had all happened to someone else, so it really didn't matter.

“Look up boys, Cap'n's comin',” One of the men called out.

Billy opened his eyes and sat up on his elbows. Captain Gardner Clark was trying to look like an officer, his coat was buttoned up and he'd shaved that morning, but he couldn't hide the way his hair was matted to his head or the sweat stains around the neck of his uniform. “All right, boys, I won't beat around the bush, you know what happened last night,” Captain Clark began. A few men nodded in response, the rest didn't want to waste the energy. “What it means is there ain't gonna be no more attacks. The only way we're gonna whip Bobby Lee once and for all is if he moves out of that city and we catch him out in the open. But the only way he's gonna leave is if someone makes him want to leave.

“That's where you boys come in. You know how to hunt and you know how to shoot. The United States Government, in its infinite wisdom, has seen fit to issue you the finest rifle in its inventory. Time to put it to use. I have been told that we have free license to go huntin' as we want. That means you boys are goin' out and baggin' me some Graycoats. I don't care where you. I don't care when you go. I don't care if you go out in groups. I don't care if you go out by yourself as long as you tell me where you're goin' first and you shoot Rebels when you get there. Remember, every last one of those gray coated sonsabitches you shoot brings this war a little closer to ending.” Clark paused and looked every last man in the eye. “Remember,” he continued, “every one you kill brigs you closer to home.”

Every one you kill brings you closer to home. Billy turned that last phrase over in his mind. He hadn't really thought about home in years, only when that once a month letter came from his mother and hadn't seen one of those since Johnny was killed. Home was place where James still played his crude, cruel jokes, where Johnny went fishing instead of doing chores, where his sister, Jennifer, ran through the house with her pigtails bouncing, where Alicia could make him feel all warm with just a look and a smile. They were all gone now, every one of them. The only family he had left was his parents and Billy hadn't seen them in three years. He wasn't even sure what they looked like anymore.

Every one you kill brings you closer to home. He had gone out that night, alone, just him and his rifle. He had found a spot that hadn't been bombarded for a day or two and waited. It hadn't taken long, a few days of peace was all the sentries really needed to relax. It was the cigarette that killed the man, the flare of the match briefly lighting up the man's face. Billy shot him through the head from three hundred yards away in the dark.

Every one you kill brings you closer to home. He went out everyday after that, sometimes in the daylight, sometimes at night, but always alone. He shot Rebels as they stood guard, as they fought, while they were eating, while they pissed against a tree, or while they shat. If the man wore gray and carried a rifle, Billy shot him, because--

Every one you kill brings you closer to home. Summer faded into autumn and still he went out. The gray coats they wore were a little more ragged now and not all of them had rifles, but he shot them while they slept, while they cooked, while they sought shelter from the wind. Billy even shot one man as he fornicated with a prostitute and wondered if the bullet had killed the whore, too. It didn't matter, because--

Every one you kill brings you closer to home. Autumn became winter and still he went out. It was getting harder to tell the citizens of Petersburg from the soldiers. No supplies had made it into the city for some time and the stick figures that crossed his sights, man, woman or child, all looked the same. He kept shooting anyway. He shot them while they huddled around fires, while they boiled leaves and grass for food, while they wrapped rags around shoeless feet. Sometime during that long, cold winter, the space between the first two words of his mantra, a division as important as the Mason-Dixon Line itself, blurred and was gone. Soon, all Billy had left was--

Everyone you kill brings you closer to home.



#3 Guest_kevtg_*

Posted 14 April 2001 - 09:56 AM

Reyna felt a wave of heat crash into her and rock her back on her heals, but the fire didn't touch her. On the floor, Aerie and Jaheira were still throwing magic against Lavok's shield, though Aerie seemed staggered. Valygar stood, unharmed, but still as statue and there was a faint glow surrounding him. Yoshimo rolled on the floor, beating at the flames engulfing his cloak. On the other side of the room, Keven, Minsc, and Ancan faced the onslaught of plant creatures. Two of the things already lay dead on the floor but more continued to pour through the doorway.

Lavok unleashed another magical attack, this time five little streaks of light that slammed into Aerie's chest and knocked her to the floor. “Aerie!” Minsc screamed and turned. In the moment he was distracted, one of the plant creatures stepped in behind the big man and drove its fist into his back, knocking him to his knees. Another plant creature bowed its head and puffed a cloud of spores into Ancan's face, sending the young knight reeling, choking and gasping. Keven now stood alone against the creatures' onslaught. In the middle of the floor, Jaheira hurled another spell, this one four streaks of fire, which washed harmlessly off Lavok's shield. She shouted something that sounded like a scream or a curse and drew her scimitar. Yoshimo struggled to his feet, his curved sword held uneasily in his left hand and his right arm burnt and blistered. Even through the light of his magical shield, Reyna could see Lavok preparing another spell.

Now, the voice told her.

The vision slammed into her with a force that was almost painful. The hard, metal walls of the sphere melted away and she found herself crouched behind a tree on a cold, windswept hilltop. Wherever she was, winter had come. The leaves had all fallen and a light dusting of snow covered the ground. The wind blew cold and wet, heavy with the promise of more snow, and it dug icy fingers underneath the brown cloak and green coat she wore. All around her, she could her sounds, sharp cracks, whistles and booms. Strange, unusual sounds that somehow seemed oddly familiar.

A thought floated across her mind, Careful now, Billy, and she was shocked. It wasn't her thought. It wasn't even her voice. She looked down at her hands as they lifted her gun. They weren't her hands at all. They were large hands, a man's hands. By Paladine, she thought, I'm in William.

With that realization also came the realization that she wasn't in control, she was just an observer in William's mind, living something along with him. Then she remembered something the voice in her head told her, something about a connection between it, her, and William. This is it, Reyna thought. She could feel his thoughts as they flowed through his mind in a powerful, focused stream. Deeper, she could feel something else, something that burned and pulsed like a Gnomish steam engine. She tried to touch it but William's thoughts grabbed her and pulled her forward. She was looking out his eyes again when he peered around the tree and looked out into a scene from a nightmare.

It had been a city once and a rather large one by her estimation, but it lay in ruins now. No building seemed intact now, they were all either in some state of collapse or cratered with holes. Thick plumes of black smoke stabbed skyward, marking places that either were or had been recently burning. An earthen wall stood in front of the city and for a hundred yards in front of that wall, nothing lived. There was nothing but shattered trees and cratered earth that was slowly being covered by snow.

William's attention focused. The hill he was on corresponded with a slight dip in the wall, allowing him to see the area just beyond it. There were three men there dressed in gray rags. One was bent over a small pile of wood and appeared to be trying to start a fire. The other two, one of which seemed to be barefoot, rubbed their arms or stomped their feet in an attempt to keep warm. Reyna thought she heard a small shout of triumph as the wood caught light.

About a hundred and fifty yards, William thought and started loading his gun.

Reyna's vision jerked again and she was back in the sphere, but she could still see William. Her hands followed his through the loading of the rifle. The guard around the two triggers levered open and a hole was exposed in the top of the weapon. She reached into William's bag and pulled out a charge, a tube of powder filled linen tied to a small, black, conical piece of lead. She pushed it into the hole and closed the breach. Her thumb pulled the hammer back until it clicked and then she fitted a small, hat shaped piece of copper over a hole underneath the hammer. Then she pulled the hammer back more until it clicked again.

She was moving in union with William as she seated the rifle against her shoulder and pressed her cheek against the stock. Her first and second fingers curled around the two triggers as her right eye sighted down the barrel to where Lavok stood behind his shimmering shield. Her middle finger pulled the back trigger first, rewarding her with a faint click from inside the gun. Her first finger rested against the front trigger and she could feel the tension on it. It would only take the faintest amount of pressure to move. She took in a breath and held it.

In that instant, a kaleidoscope of images tumbled through her mind. She saw Onvo charge futilely to his death. She felt the panic as she faced down the tribe of half-men. She saw William smile when he finally pronounced her name. Faster the images flew. Her mind flew over the past two weeks of horrid isolation. She relived the glow of pride she had felt when given command of the expedition into the sphere. She again saw the tears of her father at her knighting. Then she was back where William crouched on a hilltop, aiming his rifle at three miserable men who were trying to keep warm.

Reyna felt herself breath out and felt her finger start to move. One last thought floated across the link from William, Everyone you kill brings you closer to home.

She closed her eyes and pulled the trigger.

 

Lavok, the real Lavok, had been a prisoner in his own mind for so long that he had learned things both about himself and his captor that he would never have known otherwise. Like a prisoner examining the reaches of his cell, he had reached out and had discovered that the mortal mind had a reach and scope that went beyond what anyone had guessed. It would take years just to touch the fringes. In that he was probably fortunate. His explorations were the only thing that kept him sane over the years.

The first thing he had learned was that his captor was both crude and ignorant, though extremely powerful. It seemed to draw strength from pain and suffering and the menagerie it kept in the sphere for torture kept it strong. Even now, Lavok could feel the link to the Soames boy. That young man's recent experiences had been so painful and traumatic, that being forced to relive them was like serving a gourmet meal to the entity, pushing its power to rare height.

Though powerful, the Entity seemed to know very little about magic. Lavok bitterly recalled how it ripped through his memories of spell casting and even more bitterly the tests it had performed with its newfound knowledge. Since then, it had shown little interest in learning any more about magic and, to this day, it used only the spells Lavok had known at the time of his capture. It had not even tried refining the way it touched the Weave. In a way, this proved most fortunate for Lavok.

The absolute crudity by which the Entity drew power made things that were once hidden seem painfully obvious. It had ultimately taken very little observation to discover the mechanism by which magic flowed through the mind, the way which energy flowed through a vessel to become reality. What had taken longer was discovering a way to cut those threads. Lavok had been forced to take extreme care in his investigations here. This part of the mind seemed extremely new to the Entity and it had placed no safeguards here and Lavok did not want it discovering the one method of striking back he had. For, though he could cut its connection to the weave, he could do nothing about the Entity's great natural power.

Until now.

The Entity, flush with the power it was drawing from William Soames and confident of its victory over Valygar and his friends, was paying little attention to Lavok. So little, in fact, that it paid no attention to the shroud he had placed around Reyna Greatshield's mind or the link he had carefully constructed between her and William.

Down Lavok flew, deeper into his own mind until he reached the part that reached out the Weave, a dense forest of glowing ropes that twisted and coiled like seaweed. Here, the connection to the Entity was strongest and the danger greatest. However, he felt it become aware of his presence and, in its arrogance, discount him.

Lavok laughed. He seized the thread that powered the Entity's mystical shield and cut it.

 

The Entity exulted when it saw the elf woman fall. She had been the most dangerous after all. One of the spells she'd thrown had nearly brought down his shield, but he had drawn enough energy from young Soames to keep it up. That boy was proving to be wealth of pain, almost making the loss of Lucas Corthala's son beside the point. And now that the Entity had Valygar in its grasp, it didn't even need William's half brother.

That was the joy of it all, that Valygar thought he could come here and “end” the Corthala curse. The Entity had originally thought it would need the Cowled Wizards to bring Valygar bound hand and foot. But the boy had come of his own accord and had brought playmates as well. If any of them survived the battle, it was sure it could find suitable place in the sphere for them since the other group of humans seemed played out. Two of the warriors, besides Valygar, were already down and the one who still stood couldn't last long, despite his obvious skill. The druid had cast her last useless spell and now she and the thief were approaching with weapons. Weapons! The entity almost laughed at the absurdity.

It suddenly felt Lavok stirring at the back of its mind. The Entity briefly wondered what the old fool was up to and then refocused its attention on the battle in front of it.

The shield fell.

LAVOK! it roared and felt the Lavok presence recoil from the onslaught. It wondered what the foolish old ghost had hoped to accomplish. All it had to do to reestablish the shield was reach out to the Weave one more time and--

The blast of the gun was earsplitting in the confines of the room, the sound echoing around the curved walls and ceiling. The Entity felt its body thrown backwards and the wind driven from its lungs. It also felt a warm wetness spread across its chest and back, but it was the legs that alarmed the Entity the most. It was as if they weren't there, in fact, its entire body below the waist seemed to have disappeared for all the sensation it received from there. Then the pain arrived. Not the kind of pain it leeched from others but its own pain, flooding and overwhelming the primitive brain it occupied.

This shell was dying.

For the first time in centuries the entity felt panic, a wild, overcoming sensation. It cast about looking for a way out of its dying shell and found Valygar. If it could make it to Valygar, it might have a chance. It readied itself for the leap.

Then an unknown force seized it and held it. Going somewhere, old friend?

Lavok!

Yes. You wouldn't be planning on leaving me would you?

The Entity felt its panic rise and flow towards the other presence. But...

But nothing! I've learned so much from you over the years, my friend, and I so want to show you.

No, wait...

And I'm sure you'll enjoy it as much as I will.

NOOOOO!

 

Billy was back on the Cold Harbor battlefield. All around him there was silence. There was no crack of musket fire, no booms from the cannons, or cries from the wounded. Above him, in the Rebel ramparts, the guns sat cold and silent in their carriages as if the men who manned them had simply given up and walked away. The moon above poured baleful light on where he sat, alone with the dead.

Billy looked down at his brother's body. He remembered closing those wide open eyes for the last time. He remembered slowly dragging the body back towards the Union lines, so slowly, in fact, that he recalled seeing the sky touched with the first rays of dawn by the time he made it. He even remembered standing silent and dry eyed as the gravediggers closed the pine box his brother would be buried in.

"I'm sorry for putting you through this," Billy heard a voice say. He looked up and saw a man standing beside him dressed in flowing green robes. The man's dark hair was combed back from his forehead and it, as well as his beard, was streaked through with gray. For a moment, Billy thought it was the same wizard who had captured him earlier, but the face was different. There was none of the cruelty that had so clearly stamped the other face. There was just a kindness, touched with sorrow and regret, that had been beyond the reach of the other.

"Who are you?" Billy asked. "What do you mean you put me through this?"

"My name is Lavok," the man replied, "and I suppose you can say that I am the reason you are here, why you had to relive all of this.” Lavok knelt beside Johnny's body and passed his hand over the dead boy's face. The look of agony was replaced by one of peace and the horrible wound in the throat was gone, though the boy still did not stir. “That's better,” Lavok whispered, then raised his head to scan the battlefield. “If it is any consolation, the one who forced you through this is no more.”

Billy turned his head way from the other man and said nothing.

Lavok continued. “I needed you to feed its power, build its arrogance. Only when it thought it was untouchable could I bring it down. There were so many times I wanted to aid you, offer you some way out, but to do so would have jeopardized everything. By your suffering, though, you helped destroy a great evil.”

“I've been told that before,” Billy said softly.

“Yes, I suppose you have,” Lavok replied, “but was it not true then as well?”

Billy said nothing.

“Let me ask you this,” Lavok continued, “you volunteered to join this army. Do you remember the reasons?”

Billy nodded and looked down at his feet. He remembered, but he wondered if he believed the reasons anymore. “To free the slaves and preserve the Union,” he said.

“Interesting,” Lavok said, then gestured around the battlefield, “and these others, they would have joined for similar reasons?”

Billy shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Incredible,” Lavok whispered, “You don't realize how amazing that makes your people do you? Where I come from, wars are fought for gold or land or at the whims of petty gods. You spent four years pouring out the blood of thousands upon thousands so that people you have never met, people you may not even like, could be free. Your people sacrificed a whole generation so that the very people you were fighting could one day again be called your brothers. No nation in my world would do such a thing. Do you not grasp how unusual this is?”

Billy bowed his head and said nothing.

“I found something in your mind,” Lavok went on, “some words, 'We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.' Do you recall these words?”

“Just words,” Billy whispered.

“Really? Then why was this war fought? Why did all of these people die?” Lavok looked down at Johnny's body, “Why did he?”

Billy didn't respond and there was a long silence before Lavok spoke again. “Lucas Carruthers was of my line, and through him, this boy,” he said. “For centuries, my family has been a scourge on every world upon which we have set foot. Lucas was no different, though I'm sure he thought he was acting for the noblest of reasons when he defiled your mother's marriage bed. For all that time, I thought the curse I suffered was some god's retribution for all the wickedness my family unleashed and I had long ago lost hope that any of my offspring would be redeemable.

“Then you set foot in the sphere. Through you, I came to know this young man. I have seen nearly four hundred years and this was the first time I was proud of one of my own. That moment made all the suffering I have endured worthwhile. Now let me ask you, do you feel different now, knowing that he was not your father's son?”

Billy felt something well up in his throat and felt his jaw tremble. “No,” he said, “he's still my brother and I still love him.”

Lavok smiled. “Good,” he said, “He is probably far more your brother than he is my descendent. Remember that. I thank you for this gift William Soames, it is of incalculable value.”

Billy felt the tears well up within him, but he still fought them back. He wasn't ready to cry, not yet.

“Perhaps there is one thing I can give you,” Lavok said, “Just a small token of appreciation, one last memory...”

(blink)

There was none of the pain of the other one, just a pleasant floating sensation. It reminded Billy of the times he had played in the river as a boy. He would just roll over onto his back, close his eyes and let the river carry him. He used to dream that the river was carrying him away from home, towards one of the fantastic lands Lucas Carruthers described in his stories. Now there was only one place he wanted the river to carry him...

(blink)

It was the last night the three brothers had been together. Tomorrow, Billy and James would ride into Lansing to join the army and in little less than a year, James would be dead in Virginia. The three brothers were in the bedroom that they had shared all their lives. Billy reclined on the bottom bunk while James sat on the top, pontificating. Across the room, Johnny sat on his single bed giggling.

“You're cracked, James,” Billy said, “Ain't nobody in their right mind gonna vote for you.”

“Yeah,” Johnny piped up, “Don't you have to be, like, smart to be president? You can barely read.”

“Simpletons, I'm surrounded by simpletons,” James said exasperatedly. “It ain't about the readin', it's about the people skills. Why, after the Army makes me a general...”

Billy laughed. “Now you're really dreamin', James.”

“Least I got me ambitions,” James said huffily, “What are you gonna do? Come back here, get hitched to that Connor girl and help Pa run the store?”

“What's wrong with that?” Billy replied, “Sounds like a fine life to me. 'Sides, least I got me a girl. I ain't noticed them beatin' down the door to get at you.”

“I am saving myself for all them eastern ladies,” James answered, “Any one of which is gonna be finer than that little horse faced blonde of yours.”

Billy kicked the bottom of his brother's bed. “Now you best take that back, Jim, or there's gonna be some trouble.”

“Yeah,” Johnny said and launched his pillow at James' head. “Alicia's pretty. She's the prettiest girl in the whole county.”

“All right, all right,” James said. He through the pillow back at Johnny and came nowhere near hitting his younger brother. “What about you, squirt?” He asked. “You can't fish and play in the creek all your life. What're you gonna do when you grow up?”

Johnny picked his pillow up off the floor and lay back on his bed. “I'm gonna move to California,” he said. “I hear its summer all year round there and when you stand on the beach and the sun sets, it turns the ocean to gold as far as the eye can see and sky lights with the colors of Heaven...”

 

Reyna's shoulder hurt. The short gun she had discharged earlier had kicked, but nothing like the long one. It had kicked so hard that it dented the chain mail covering her shoulder and she was sure that the whole area underneath was black and blue. Maybe she would get one of the healers to look at it later, but she and they both had other concerns at the moment.

Amazingly enough, no one was dead. Most of Keven's group sat on the floor using either spells or those little blue bottles of healing liquid to put themselves back together. She heard Minsc make a pronouncement about little Boo's bravery and they laughed, sharing the relief at still being alive. Even Ancan joined in, laughing not in the maniacal way she had come to know in the past two weeks, but in the way he used to back in Solamnia. Reyna hoped the wizards hold on him was broken now and she prayed she would not have to make good on that awful promise she had made to him.

She climbed the stairs past Onvo's burned out corpse and felt pang of regret. Two weeks ago she had been charged with responsibility over the two other knights and Onvo's death represented her first failure. She knew that the order wouldn't hold his death against her, this was as much a battle as anything else she had ever fought and people die in battles. However, that didn't make his loss any easier to bear.

Atop the dais, Valygar knelt at Lavok's side. Reyna wondered what the wizard was saying. Perhaps he was asking for forgiveness. As she watched, the wizard moved his head and locked eyes with her. In that moment, Reyna felt a brief sense of recognition. There were things that needed to be said here, but not now. She turned away.

William lay beside the railing that ran around dais. She could tell he was still alive, his chest moved up and down as he breathed, but he was still unconscious. She knelt beside him and pulled his head into her lap. “William,” she whispered as she stroked his face with her fingers.

His eyes opened and he stared up at her. His jaw trembled and a single tear tracked down past his nose and around the curve of his mouth. She brushed it away with the palm of her hand. “It's all right,” she whispered and hoped he understood her.

He turned and wrapped his arms around her and she held him as he cried.

 

The door to the outside swung open and warm air rushed in. Billy leaned against Reyna and let the others carry Lavok out first. This was his world after all. Reyna reached up and squeezed the hand that was draped across her shoulder and made sure her other arm was tight around his waist. Billy smiled at her. He was so drained that he was still unable to stand on his own and besides, the comfort he got from her presence went beyond mere support. Perhaps it was time to let the dead lay.

Ancan followed the other adventurers out the door. He stopped briefly in the doorway and looked back at them. The look the young knight gave him confused Billy. It was a mixture of anger, resentment, relief and gratitude. Then Ancan turned and walked out the door. A mystery for another day, Billy decided.

Reyna said something in her language and looked at him with a question in her eyes. “Yeah, I'm ready,” he answered and she helped him stagger to the door.

The first sound he heard was the seagulls. Billy remembered the first time he had heard seagulls. He and James had been chugging down the Virginia coastline in a crowded transport while the birds wheeled and danced above them. They had been laughing and joking the whole way about how they were going to win the war single handedly. At that point, their war had been nothing but drills and camps, a game to be played at, but they were on their way to learn differently. You scared Billy? James had asked that first time under fire. It's all right, so am I.

He and Reyna stepped outside and Billy felt his breath catch in his throat. The sounds and smells overwhelmed him first. The cries of the gulls were even louder outside as the birds flocked and circled in great wheels overhead. In the distance, he could here the roar of the ocean mounting its interminable assault on the land and the seas salt smell overlaid everything. Above all that, though, was the awesome presence of humanity. All around him were the cries of merchants, the smell of fish, the roar and bustle of crowded streets, and scent of tavern cookfires.

However, it was the view that truly stunned him. Spread before him was easily the biggest city Billy had ever seen, far bigger then Washington and maybe even bigger than New York. The skyline itself was almost alien in its foreignness. He could see domes and spires, castles and towers the likes of which had never been built in America. Between them all, packed wall to wall, sturdy two and three story buildings of mortar, rock and timber lined streets that curved and twisted with maze-like complexity. A river bisected the city and, even from here, Billy could see boats moving slowly upon its surface.

Come here, William, he heard Lavok say in his mind. Billy motioned for Reyna to set him down and he knelt beside the dying wizard. Closer, Lavok said, I have something to share with you.

Billy leaned in and Lavok reached up weakly and touched Billy's forehead. Billy felt a comforting warmth swell and spread through his skull. “What did you just do?” Billy asked.

“A final gift,” Lavok whispered and Billy was stunned to realize the words were not English. “A gift of language. I regret... not being able to restore you to your home. Perhaps I can share... enough of mine for you to find a place here.”

“Thank you.”

“No,” Lavok gasped, “Thank you. Remember... remember those words we discussed. This world... would do well to hear them.”

Billy nodded. Over the years he had seen more men die than he could count. Most of them had died screaming, whimpering or begging but the lucky ones died like Lavok. His chest rose and fell shallowly a few more times, then there was one deep breath that caught just before the exhale. After just a brief moment, the light in his eyes, that indefinite spark of life, started to fade, slowly carried away by the breath leaving his lungs. Then he was gone.

The one called Valygar was kneeling on the other side of the body. Though he was dark skinned and almost African in appearance, Billy could see the traces of Lavok and Lucas and even Johnny in his face. “He said you know others of my family,” Valygar stated plainly, “others worth knowing.”

“I do,” Billy answered, “and they are.”

“I think I would like to hear about them.”

Billy smiled wanly at the other man. “I think I would like to talk about them.”

He turned his eyes to take in the alien cityscape once again.

Home.

Perhaps.

If I should die and leave you here awhile,

Be not like others, sore and undone,

Who keep long vigils by the silent dust, and weep.

For my sake - turn again to life and smile

Nerving thy heart and trembling hand to do

Something to comfort other hearts than thine.

Complete those dear unfinished tasks of mine

And I, perchance, may therein comfort you.


-- Author Unknown



#4 Guest_Devon_*

Posted 14 April 2001 - 11:32 AM

*round of applause for kevtg*

That was a wonderful end to a fascinating tale. I'm glad that you were able to finally finish it, and I hope you feel satisfied with yourself for such a unique and amazing story. I swear, I'll have to go back to the old quizes and re-read the first parts. I'm glad that Reyna was able to get out of her promise to Ancan, it was certainly a horrible situation to be in. I don't have anything really to critique, I just wanted you to know that I'm really glad I had the pleasure of reading your conclusion.



#5 Guest_Dwagon_*

Posted 14 April 2001 - 12:41 PM

wow...what a great ending to your saga...really intersting to find out who it was talking to reyna, and liked the way her and williams memories merged so she could shoot lavok...just a shame that that's the end of it...don't suppose we'll be hearing anything more about them? (hint, hint:))...anyway, really good ending, and hopefully you will be writing more like it soon

Dwagon


#6 Guest_Anonymous_*

Posted 14 April 2001 - 12:49 PM

That. Was. Fantastic. I need about 10 boxes of Kleenex. 'Nuff said. :)


#7 Guest_Silrana_*

Posted 14 April 2001 - 01:54 PM

> Hey all, this is the completion of a tale I started almost two months ago

> and then left hanging when I was forced into a month long hiatus. A few

> words first. This installment ended being really long (this installment

> clocks in at 15 typewritten pages). I leave it to y'all to decide if I'm

> being conceited or not. I just thank God it's finished and I can clean the

> whole thing up for the fanfic site.

Well, it was worth waiting for. I have always thought this was one of the most original stories ever posted here, because I know I certainly never would have thought of combining BG2 and the Civil War.

The part with the merging of Billy and Reyna to shoot the entity was really interesting. Oh, and I agree that I would be interested in just how Billy adapts to Athkatla.

When you put the whole thing together for the FF page, I'll have to tell my brother. He's a bit of a Civil War buff himself, and used to play D&D when we were in school, so he'd love it.

Great job, and we're glad you're back! I hope you will turn that imagination to more stories.


#8 Guest_Oyster Girl_*

Posted 14 April 2001 - 02:13 PM

Finally!

(Yeah, yeah, I know, I have no right to complain. It's been how long since the last installment of City? I actually made progress today; I'm especially driven to get it done now because it fits with this quiz.)

Worth waiting for, dear.

*puts on editor's cap*

However, I think your cut-and-paste obliterated a number of punctuation marks. Since I owe you an email, anyway, I'll append my blue-pencilling to that.


City of Sorrows

#9 Guest_Arelius_*

Posted 14 April 2001 - 03:55 PM

What more is there to say? Adding anything after reading that seems so pointless. That was really fantastic, moving, incredible, whatever. Pick your praise. I can't say enough. I really enjoyed the whole story. I'd like to see more, too, but I like the images I have in my head right now of Billy and Renya living happily ever after. Billy deserves it.



#10 Guest_Anonymous_*

Posted 14 April 2001 - 05:33 PM

Wow, simply wow.

That was a great ending to a great saga. I love you how you mixed the Civil War and BG2. It created a truely unique story. I liked the part where Billy is asked if he remembers the reason he joined the war. That part was very touching.

-Anaviel



#11 Guest_zan_*

Posted 14 April 2001 - 05:52 PM

zan just can't do this justice by words.

But I will say that this was an amazing story, and these two sections were the best of the lot. Especially the penultimate part...building to a crescendo, with that fantastic mantra. Some of the historical details were lost on this non-American, but you integrated them so well that this ceased to matter. Amazing, and inspiring.


#12 Guest_kevtg_*

Posted 14 April 2001 - 07:06 PM

> *round of applause for kevtg*

*bows* Thank you, thank you. I was worried about this part. It ended up being one of the hardest to write.

> That was a wonderful end to a fascinating tale. I'm glad that you were

> able to finally finish it, and I hope you feel satisfied with yourself for

> such a unique and amazing story. I swear, I'll have to go back to the old

> quizes and re-read the first parts. I'm glad that Reyna was able to get

> out of her promise to Ancan, it was certainly a horrible situation to be

> in. I don't have anything really to critique, I just wanted you to know

> that I'm really glad I had the pleasure of reading your conclusion.

Who said that Reyna has gotten out of her promise or that anything is truly concluded? This is BG after all... 8)


#13 Guest_kevtg_*

Posted 14 April 2001 - 07:09 PM

> wow...what a great ending to your saga...really intersting to find out who

> it was talking to reyna, and liked the way her and williams memories

> merged so she could shoot lavok...just a shame that that's the end of

> it...don't suppose we'll be hearing anything more about them? (hint,

> hint:))...anyway, really good ending, and hopefully you will be writing

> more like it soon

Oh, I believe Billy will soon ride again, I just have something else that's pounding on the back of my head right now. Anyway, thanks for reading.


#14 Guest_kevtg_*

Posted 14 April 2001 - 07:12 PM

> That. Was. Fantastic. I need about 10 boxes of Kleenex. 'Nuff said. 8)

Thank you. I was aiming for some heartstrings and was hoping I wasn't overdoing it. Need me to FedEx you some Kleenex?


#15 Guest_kevtg_*

Posted 14 April 2001 - 07:20 PM

> Well, it was worth waiting for. I have always thought this was one of the

> most original stories ever posted here, because I know I certainly never

> would have thought of combining BG2 and the Civil War.

Well, my two obsessions at the time were BG2 and the Civil War. Just made sense to mix them.

> The part with the merging of Billy and Reyna to shoot the entity was

> really interesting. Oh, and I agree that I would be interested in just how

> Billy adapts to Athkatla.

I've got the idea for a sequal in back of my head, but there's another project I want to get started on first. However, I think Billy will find some way of getting himself in trouble. 8)

> Great job, and we're glad you're back! I hope you will turn that

> imagination to more stories.

Working on something already and I hope to start posting it next week. It even features, heaven forbid, Anomen!



#16 Guest_kevtg_*

Posted 14 April 2001 - 07:23 PM

> Finally!

> (Yeah, yeah, I know, I have no right to complain. It's been how long since

> the last installment of City ? I actually made progress today; I'm

> especially driven to get it done now because it fits with this quiz.)

> Worth waiting for, dear.

Thanks, darling. 8)

> *puts on editor's cap*

> However, I think your cut-and-paste obliterated a number of punctuation

> marks. Since I owe you an email, anyway, I'll append my blue-pencilling to

> that.

Actually, it probably has more to do with the fact that I finished typing and tried to proofread this at 5AM after going 12 hours on nothing but Coca-Cola. However, I like the cut and paste excuse better. :)



#17 Guest_kevtg_*

Posted 14 April 2001 - 07:27 PM

> What more is there to say? Adding anything after reading that seems so

> pointless. That was really fantastic, moving, incredible, whatever. Pick

> your praise. I can't say enough. I really enjoyed the whole story. I'd

> like to see more, too, but I like the images I have in my head right now

> of Billy and Renya living happily ever after. Billy deserves it.

But this is BG, Mark. Nobody lives happily ever after, they just get a quick breather before they get in more trouble. However, I am going to give them a nice long rest, while I make some of the more mainline NPC's lives miserable. 8)

Thanks for the feedback, I appreciate it.


#18 Guest_darkrose_*

Posted 14 April 2001 - 07:30 PM

“Incredible,” Lavok whispered, “You don't realize how amazing that makes your people do you? Where I come from, wars are fought for gold or land or at the whims of petty gods. You spent four years pouring out the blood of thousands upon thousands so that people you have never met, people you may not even like, could be free. Your people sacrificed a whole generation so that the very people you were fighting could one day again be called your brothers. No nation in my world would do such a thing. Do you not grasp how unusual this is?”

*tears*

Thank you for both the story, and for the reminder of what things are really important.


Tales from the Copper Coronet

#19 Guest_kevtg_*

Posted 14 April 2001 - 07:30 PM

> Wow, simply wow.

> That was a great ending to a great saga. I love you how you mixed the

> Civil War and BG2. It created a truely unique story. I liked the part

> where Billy is asked if he remembers the reason he joined the war. That

> part was very touching.

Thank you. I spent so much time building up how the war messed him up, that I had to give him some sort of resolution. He deserved it. Glad you liked it. 8)

> -Anaviel



#20 Guest_kevtg_*

Posted 14 April 2001 - 07:35 PM

> zan just can't do this justice by words.

Thank you. You are too kind.

> But I will say that this was an amazing story, and these two sections were

> the best of the lot. Especially the penultimate part...building to a

> crescendo, with that fantastic mantra. Some of the historical details were

> lost on this non-American, but you integrated them so well that this

> ceased to matter. Amazing, and inspiring.

Every combat soldier I have ever talked to has told me that you never further away from home than you are when under fire and every thing you do is an attempt to live long enough to make it back. I was hoping to capture that feeling. Also, I'll be posting the historical background this story is based on later, if you're interested.

Again, thanks for reading.






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