Alright, the next Flikka segment. I'll probably change the title later, but I don't want to give anything away yet. Next thing up will be awhile, and that's either Aulava and Tiiro, second to last chapter, the Dwarven Horde, A Grand Vacation part one, or the second part of Pavel, NWN. Not sure yet. But this chapter is dedicated to Onyx, because he wanted to know about Jolix for the you-know-what. 
Cheers from Fantysm and Borg!
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Knock. Knock knock. "Flikka?"
Silence.
"Flikka, are you in there?" The transmuter exhaled through her teeth in frustration as she threw down her quill and went to answer her bedroom door. Keldorn Firecam stood there, an anxious, dark look in his grey eyes.
"There's someone at the door, Flikka," the paladin explained.
She snorted and brushed a wisp of hair out of her eyes. "Yeah, it's you, genius. What do you want?"
Keldorn cringed inside. He knew Flikka never liked being interrupted while she was scribing her spells, but this was one time he would not budge.
"A man wants to get into the sphere. He says he heard he could find you here. Normally, the butler would have thrown him out already, but he seems to know you, Flikka."
Her mouth fell open slightly, and she brushed past Keldorn, hurrying down the halls with Buccaneer in hot pursuit. She reached the bolted steel door that led into the slums of Athkatla and paused. Perhaps it wasn't who she thought it was. She turned around slowly to head back to her spellbook, only to see Cernd, Jan, and Viconia playing cards at the dining room table down the corridor. Keldorn walked in and sat down resignedly as they handed him some cards. They gave her very interested, though furtive looks, silently enquiring what she was to do next.
"He's out there, my raven," Haer'Dalis said from the shadows. Flikka jumped. She could just barely make out the outline of his face and blueish braids. "A vision of loveliness you are today. The gentleman outside shall approve, if he is of any taste." He flashed a rogueish grin as he strolled down the hallway she had come from. "Don't let me keep you from the man of your dreams, my darling Flikka." He chuckled and disappeared around the corner. She rolled her eyes at the bard's antics, readied a 'Magic Missile' just in case, and pulled open the door apprehensively.
The man on the doorstep was only slightly taller than she, and the sweeping, pale purple robes he wore brought out the same shade in his greyish-violet eyes. His flaxen hair was cropped short, shaved around his ears, and spiked up on top. A large tropical bird was perched on his shoulder, preening its indigo feathers and eyeing Flikka suspiciously. It shifted closer to the man's pointed ears. But it was his smile that gave him away . . . That grin . . . I know that grin . . .
"Jolix!?" The parrot gave an indignant squawk and took flight in a flurry of dark blue feathers as Flikka dove into the man's arms to receive a bear hug. The bird came to rest on Buck's back, and together they watched the pair.
"Oh, Flikka, I've missed you," Jolix breathed.
She pulled away and took a good look at him. "Where have you been, Jolix? I haven't seen you since I left Baldur's Gate!" The transmuter looked around. "Oh, sorry about that. Come inside!"
She took his hand and led him past the four playing cards, who gaped openly. The two wove their way through the maze of tunnels, corridors, and hallways until they descended a flight of stairs. It was the room where Tolgerias the Cowled Wizard had met his gruesome end, but now it was occupied by more than a few entertainment setups. Jolix and Flikka sat down in poufy, comfortable chairs and several seconds passed.
"Flikka?"
She grinned, mischief in her eyes. "Shh . . . I'm timing them."
"Timing . . . who?"
Flikka turned to stare at the door. "Three . . . two . . . one . . ." The door burst open with Jan Jansen in the lead, closely followed by Viconia, Cernd, and Keldorn. Haer'Dalis was behind them, with Buck and the parrot at his heels. The bird took to the air and settled himself on Jolix's shoulder, and Buck shoved his way through the forest of legs before him to sit by Flikka's chair.
"What is the meaning of this, darthiir?" Viconia asked, eyeing Jolix. "Do you know this . . ." the drow groped for a word to describe the man in front of her. "This man?"
Flikka smiled at her friends and invited them to sit in the empty chairs around her. As they did so (with only one minor skirmish when Haer'Dalis attempted to sit on Viconia's lap), Flikka turned her eyes on Jolix again. Cernd did as well, though his gaze was much colder than Jolix would have liked.
"Where have you been?" she asked again.
"I've been lying low in the Jungles of Chult," he explained. "After I heard what happened to you and your group, I left the Sword Coast. You're quite famous, you know."
"Where did you get the parrot?"
Jolix grinned and stroked the bird's wings. "This is Indi. I acquired a 'Find Familiar' scroll off some duergar who thought my ears would look good on a necklace. Strange, those dwarves. They don't even use magic; what are they carrying around scrolls for? Anyway, I needed a companion, so in short, I cast the scroll, and Indi came. It's short for Indigo. Sometimes I call him Indigo-Idiot when he's being particularly stubborn." Jolix laughed. "So what about that dog there? Who's he?"
"This is Buck. I found him before Baldur's Gate, but you've never seen him before. I had to kill a dwarven assassin to get the scroll, but it was worth it. I got to keep my head, and I found Buck, so it was a good bargain. Buck is short for Buccaneer, and believe me, he acts like one sometimes."
Buck growled playfully, and Indi leaned forward, clacking his beak. He flew and got a good grip on Buck's shaggy fur before the dog took off running around the room, barking, with the parrot spreading his wings to attempt to steer.
"These are my companions," Flikka explained, seeing Jolix's look. "That's Viconia, the drow. You met her last time. That's Keldorn, the paladin over there. Jan Jansen is the gnome, Haer'Dalis is over there . . . the one with the harp." Flikka looked over at Cernd. "This is Cernd. He's a druid." The three-quarters elf decided not to comment on their relationship quite yet.
"This is all well and good," Jolix said slowly, carefully examining every member. "But tell me, Flikka, where is the ever-so-cheerful Imoen? She always brightened a room when she walked into it. Is she gone from this world?"
Flikka's face became dark and sad. "No, she is still alive. But she has been kidnapped by Jon Irenicus. There is no better description of evil than he."
"I have heard of him," Jolix said. "He was once the Queen Ellesime's lover. Beyond that, I do not know him."
"He . . . tortured Imoen and me, then when we escaped his prison beneath Waukeen's Promenade, he took her. To a place called Spellhold. The Shadow Thieves are going to help us get her back." Flikka looked at Jolix with the unspoken question in her eyes. He didn't miss it.
"I will help you as well, if you'll have me," Jolix offered. "Imoen was . . . a great person. We can't let this Irenicus keep her captive."
"Thank you, Jolix," Flikka said in relief. "You don't know how good it feels to see you again."
The entire group stood, almost as one, and everyone filed out the door except Jolix, Cernd, the two familiars, and Flikka. "I'll show you to the guest room." Flikka embraced Jolix once again, then led him through the door to where he was to sleep. The abjurer winced as he felt Cernd's eyes glaring daggers into him.
When Flikka shut the door to Jolix's room, she turned around to see Cernd's stormy eyes boring into hers. She had never really realized how much taller he was than her until he was angry.
"Flikka, who is this Jolix? A lover? Or perhaps, a husband?" Cernd said quietly. His voice was quite intense for its soft volume, she noticed. And throwing common sense out the window, she laughed out loud.
"What," Cernd asked icily, "is so amusing?"
Flikka was nearly doubled over in laughter now. "He's . . . he's neither of those, Cernd," she said, trying to smother her snickers. "He's my brother!"
