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Life is a Bittersweet Candy (2) - A BG1 Tale


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#1 Guest_UncleN00blarWants*You*!_*

Posted 02 August 2003 - 09:41 PM

(The second of many. Whee, I'm going to have fun with this flashback stuff. ^.^ Good for comic reliefs.)

With a thump Deleta lands inside the room, currently empty, the same room he had used to access the roof. He leans back and sits on the windowsill, thinking. Of all the troubles a thirteen year old could get in to, which was the most fun this day? He had already given the serving maid a good chromatic orb, so that was a stale idea. The chickens? No, think bigger, much bigger. He runs a hand into his glistening black robe, pulling out a book and looking over its few scribed pages. Grease? What could he do with this little spell? Slipping, sliding falling. Hmm.

Eyes widen, and a devilish grin comes over him. Of course, the great library! He’ll cast grease on one of the bustling scribes and watch him knock into many a person strolling with books. Oh yes, that would be grand, all the fumbling and mixing of papers and books. How utterly grand. He can see it now, a- THWACK! His thought process is interrupted as he feels a pebble impact the back of his head. Crying out softly in pain he clutches the menial wound, turning to look out the window and spot a purple small form, looking a little less than him in age, duck behind a bush. “Imoen…” He takes off out of the room and corridor to turn and descend the stairs, exiting the tavern and glancing around for Imoen. He found her just as surely as the next pebble hit him. “Gah!”

He takes off after her, frowning at how well she kept distance on him. Dodging the next pebble, he follows her into the back courtyard behind the library. Seeing his opportunity, he runs around to the left to cut her off, finally catching up to her then tackling her softly, wrestling to the ground and glaring at her. “See how /you/ like pebbles on your head…” he grabs a small nearby rock and chucks it down to hit her on the forehead with it. Not enough to damage, but enough to hurt and tease. She glances to the side after that and gasps. “Gorion!” Deleta blinks, turning to face an empty walkway to their left. “What? Gorion isn- OOF!” He is cut off as Imoen throws him backwards, rising and running. Scowling to himself he rises and takes the other way around, to try and cut her off once more. They meet at the front of the library, circling around that courtyard as he moves in to tackle her once more.

Ah! Success! Now he can show her just how annoying pebbles can be. Imoen looks to the side and gasps again. “Gorion!” Deleta snickers, and then replies. “Oh no, I’m not falling for that one again.” With a triumphant grin that suddenly fades, he feels a hand clasp around the back of his tunic and neck, pulling him up and off of Imoen. He hears a familiar voice, that same guardian’s tone that Gorion had possessed. “Now, look at you, boy… All dirty with play… Imoen, you as well, brush yourself off…” He sighs, looking to the both. “You know what this means…” Imoen, being free of hand, tries to get away, but Gorion’s other arm halts that. “… Bath time.” Both moan and try to make a big show of pouting.

Back in the real world, Deleta marches along with Imoen, coming to a crossroad and looking at the directions chiseled into the statue that marks the cross. This pulls him more to reality, gazing across where the stature indicates the Friendly Arm to be. “Well, this way, then.” He says to Imoen, resuming the walk. He is silent for most of the time, the few they meet along the way of unimportance, save for one helpful fellow that warned them to stay quiet.

The Friendly Arm Inn becomes more visible as they tread on through the day, against tall trees and slightly thinning woodland, more of the enormous Inn comes to view. Though, that view fades into night as it takes them most of the day then still to arrive. Finally, however, they reach the drawbridge. And Deleta looks over the two vigilant guards standing erect in the twilight, and almost feels sorry to see two laden in armor and blade and standing for so long. Passing them, he gives a grin to Imoen. She grins to him. “Were here!” She exclaims in her cheery tone. “Aye, we are… Now to find Khalid and Jaheira…” He responds, stepping through the open dirt grounds of the Friendly Arm and eyeing a set of stairs that leads to the Inn. They walk along then to that, and are just about to ascend the steps when a figure at the top, robed and grinning, walks down. “Hmm, about yay tall, brown eyes brown hair, half Elvin... You look quite like him, pray tell, sir, are you Deleta Seraph?” questions the man. Deleta, having already experienced two assassins back at Candlekeep that said similar things, warily replies. “Uh, no, sorry, you must be thinking of someone else.” “Well my apologies then…” The robed man says, pulling out a hand from the folds of his robe and smiling, oddly, his apology doesn’t seem to be for bothering Deleta. “Apologies for what?” Queries the half-elf. “This.” And in that one famous word, the robed mage wriggles his fingers and waves a hand, chanting something softly and stepping back from Deleta. Mirror images of the robed man spring fourth… One, two, four?!

Seeing the man ready to cast another spell, Deleta gives a worries glance to Imoen before the two split up and start to encircle the mage’s many forms. Imoen stabs at one image, and it disappears. Deleta casts magic missile, however, and is rewarded with a scream from his assailant. From there they make quick work to dispatch him, some nearby guards rushing in to help. Imoen has a few bloodstains afterwards, luckily none her own. Deleta gives her a concerned look though. “Are you alright?” He questions, before getting an only slightly merry answer. “Fine, thanks…”

Looting the corpse, Deleta finds some scrolls and a stave, as well as a letter. Reading the letter, he sighs then crumples it, tossing it aside. Just like the others at Candlekeep. Who would want his head that badly? He ponders this as the two finally ascend the stairs to the Inn.

#2 Guest_Theodur_*

Posted 03 August 2003 - 09:41 AM

Ah! Success! Now he can show her just how annoying pebbles can be. Imoen looks to the side and gasps again. “Gorion!” Deleta snickers, and then replies. “Oh no, I’m not falling for that one again.” With a triumphant grin that suddenly fades, he feels a hand clasp around the back of his tunic and neck, pulling him up and off of Imoen. He hears a familiar voice, that same guardian’s tone that Gorion had possessed. “Now, look at you, boy… All dirty with play… Imoen, you as well, brush yourself off…” He sighs, looking to the both. “You know what this means…” Imoen, being free of hand, tries to get away, but Gorion’s other arm halts that. “… Bath time.” Both moan and try to make a big show of pouting.


Heh. Flashbacks are nice, but hitting maids with Chromatic Orbs sure isn't... it hurts! :wink:

Back in the real world, Deleta marches along with Imoen, coming to a crossroad and looking at the directions chiseled into the statue that marks the cross. This pulls him more to reality, gazing across where the stature indicates the Friendly Arm to be. “Well, this way, then.” He says to Imoen, resuming the walk. He is silent for most of the time, the few they meet along the way of unimportance, save for one helpful fellow that warned them to stay quiet.


Weeeell, they did meet Elminster, didn't they... but I suppose he *is* unimportant...

Seeing the man ready to cast another spell, Deleta gives a worries glance to Imoen before the two split up and start to encircle the mage’s many forms. Imoen stabs at one image, and it disappears. Deleta casts magic missile, however, and is rewarded with a scream from his assailant. From there they make quick work to dispatch him, some nearby guards rushing in to help. Imoen has a few bloodstains afterwards, luckily none her own. Deleta gives her a concerned look though. “Are you alright?” He questions, before getting an only slightly merry answer. “Fine, thanks…”


Oh, that can be a nasty opponent, especially if your char has precious few HP! One magic missile and Immy or PC is a goner...

Looting the corpse, Deleta finds some scrolls and a stave, as well as a letter. Reading the letter, he sighs then crumples it, tossing it aside. Just like the others at Candlekeep. Who would want his head that badly? He ponders this as the two finally ascend the stairs to the Inn.


Oh... you *will* learn! :twisted:

#3 Guest_UncleN00blarWants*You*!_*

Posted 03 August 2003 - 10:40 AM

Heh. Flashbacks are nice, but hitting maids with Chromatic Orbs sure isn't... it hurts!


Sure it is, the low leveled ones only sting a tiny bit, and can really screw with one's head... ~Smirks.~

Weeeell, they did meet Elminster, didn't they... but I suppose he *is* unimportant...


In my opinion, highly so =/

Oh, that can be a nasty opponent, especially if your char has precious few HP! One magic missile and Immy or PC is a goner...


The trick is to get the guards to walk by before triggering him... ^.~

Oh... you *will* learn!


That he will, tune in next time!

#4 Guest_Dorotea_*

Posted 05 August 2003 - 04:47 AM

(The second of many. Whee, I'm going to have fun with this flashback stuff. ^.^ Good for comic reliefs.)


It actually is - and it is quite nicely done.

With a thump Deleta lands inside the room, currently empty, the same room he had used to access the roof. He leans back and sits on the windowsill, thinking. Of all the troubles a thirteen year old could get in to, which was the most fun this day? He had already given the serving maid a good chromatic orb, so that was a stale idea. The chickens? No, think bigger, much bigger. He runs a hand into his glistening black robe, pulling out a book and looking over its few scribed pages. Grease? What could he do with this little spell? Slipping, sliding falling. Hmm.


Ahem, this fellow sure is trouble. :roll: I feel for Gorion already.


Ah! Success! Now he can show her just how annoying pebbles can be. Imoen looks to the side and gasps again. “Gorion!” Deleta snickers, and then replies. “Oh no, I’m not falling for that one again.” With a triumphant grin that suddenly fades, he feels a hand clasp around the back of his tunic and neck, pulling him up and off of Imoen. He hears a familiar voice, that same guardian’s tone that Gorion had possessed. “Now, look at you, boy… All dirty with play… Imoen, you as well, brush yourself off…” He sighs, looking to the both. “You know what this means…” Imoen, being free of hand, tries to get away, but Gorion’s other arm halts that. “… Bath time.” Both moan and try to make a big show of pouting.


heh heh - like the way you write these two together I can feel that they are really young

Back in the real world, Deleta marches along with Imoen, coming to a crossroad and looking at the directions chiseled into the statue that marks the cross. This pulls him more to reality, gazing across where the stature indicates the Friendly Arm to be. “Well, this way, then.” He says to Imoen, resuming the walk. He is silent for most of the time, the few they meet along the way of unimportance, save for one helpful fellow that warned them to stay quiet.


Yes, I agree - this part may have been a bit more refined, in terms of transition. I see you've skipped over finding dead Gorion's body part - and maybe you are right, since it would bring a different mood ...

“Hmm, about yay tall, brown eyes brown hair, half Elvin... You look quite like him, pray tell, sir, are you Deleta Seraph?” questions the man. Deleta, having already experienced two assassins back at Candlekeep that said similar things, warily replies. “Uh, no, sorry, you must be thinking of someone else.” “Well my apologies then…” The robed man says, pulling out a hand from the folds of his robe and smiling, oddly, his apology doesn’t seem to be for bothering Deleta. “Apologies for what?” Queries the half-elf. “This.” And in that one famous word, the robed mage wriggles his fingers and waves a hand, chanting something softly and stepping back from Deleta. Mirror images of the robed man spring fourth… One, two, four?!


Yeah - that's him alright, the bastard. I think i always hated this guy the most, since he won't let you in and you are so weak. :evil:


Looting the corpse, Deleta finds some scrolls and a stave, as well as a letter. Reading the letter, he sighs then crumples it, tossing it aside. Just like the others at Candlekeep. Who would want his head that badly? He ponders this as the two finally ascend the stairs to the Inn.


Hmm, maybe it was a bit too easy? He killed me 3 times out of 4 when I played spellcasters ...


Anyway - nice and fresh new look. :)

Cheers!

#5 Guest_UncleN00blarWants*You*!_*

Posted 05 August 2003 - 07:18 AM

It actually is - and it is quite nicely done.


Thank you! ^.^ I can but try.

Ahem, this fellow sure is trouble. I feel for Gorion already.


Heheh, you haven't seen some of the other flashbacks yet. :) :) :lol:

heh heh - like the way you write these two together I can feel that they are really young


Thanks again ^.^ I just imagine how I was a few years back with my cousin, hoo-boy... ~Innocent grin.~

Yes, I agree - this part may have been a bit more refined, in terms of transition. I see you've skipped over finding dead Gorion's body part - and maybe you are right, since it would bring a different mood ...


Would you really want to go back to a gnarled bloody body of someone you've cared for all your life? Even if the childhood showed it in a twisted and highly ambiguous way :lol: Ehm, also, Gorion told him to run, going back is the farthers thing from his mind. What if the killers were still around, waiting in ambush? Or spreading out to look for him in the area? (Wht should have happened, in my opinion, but then there would be no PC. ~Sigh.~)

Yeah - that's him alright, the bastard. I think i always hated this guy the most, since he won't let you in and you are so weak.


Hmm, maybe it was a bit too easy? He killed me 3 times out of 4 when I played spellcasters ...


Deleta: Thats becouse I'm the better spellcaster... And far better with a sling... And more strong... I'm sexier too-

~Whack.~ Shut up before you get her mad at me. :)




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