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The Kandron Affair (an IWDII serial) - Part the First.


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#1 Guest_TheBeastlordJohnny_*

Posted 23 August 2003 - 11:52 PM

Hullo people... I'm new here, so don't be too harsh on me.

There's a bit of a gulf in the IWD, IWDII novelisation sector... possibly because there's not very many givens, and it's just too broad. BG, BGII there's plenty defined stuff already, so you just invent a main character and put your own spin on things. But anyhow, here goes... :)

Right. Here's the obligatory disclaimery legally certification bit for this chapter... and then we're off.

Sex/Nudity – Some References and Innuendo
Graphic Violence – A Bit
Strong Language – Quite a Fair Whack
Overall Rating – 12A


Chapter 1 - Arrival

"So, what's it to be now then?"

That was me, Kandron H. Devore, with my four compatriots – Talyn Longbranch, a darthiir ranger with a longbow and a filthy mouth, Darik Ironbeard, a dwarf with a massive axe and a filthy mind, and Shayla Devilsboon, a swarthy looking wizardess who had small horns jutting out her forehead and was squeaky clean in almost every way, and a selfrighteous paladin named Oberron Buchanana, who had a Freudian two handed sword and a filthy obsession with smiting evil-doers. So, in all, we were a pretty unwholesome bunch, just like most adventuring parties.

We were sailing up the river to the town of Targos, courtesy of a company known as “VirginAdventuring”, where we were to have a chance to strike a blow against evil by helping defend the town against the Legion of the Chimaera, and acquire wealth, power, and more girls – or boys in Shayla’s case – than our tongues could cope with, if one was to believe the propaganda. Speaking of propaganda, here's a copy of the recruitment poster that was most commonly sighted round Luskan:

"ADVENTURERS!"

"Do you feel inadequate when you see your comrades carting home enormous trugs of gold, buying up +5 Swords of Facesmashery, Wands of Utter Burnination, and Great Big War Hammers Of Cranium Denting, and you're stuck in the bar telling the same tired old tales about you and your rusty, musty, trusty broadsword?"

"Are you willing to strike a blow against evil and darkness and at the same time become filthy filthy rich?"

"Would you like to see the world, meet interesting new people, and violently slaughter them?"

“Would you like to become the most eligible bachelor on your block – hell no, in your entire home town?”

"If the answer to these questions is "YES", then don't delay! Come down to your local branch of the Luskan City Guard and sign up! No special skills are necessary, and you WILL gain much booty (in both senses of the word!)”

"A ONCE IN A LIFETIME CHANCE!"


There was also some fine print at the bottom:

“VirginAdventuring takes no responsibility for death, loss of limbs, blindness, madness, dismemberment, gibbitude, emasculation, blood loss, exotic diseases, or third- and fourth-degree burns suffered while on this quest. Much booty offer conditional to availability. Interesting new people classed according to our staff’s opinions. Once in a lifetime opportunity dependent on successes/failures of applicant adventuring parties.”

Looking back it strikes me as being almost incredible that I was taken in by such a flagrant pile of untruths, but I was stony broke and bored out of my skull, and needed at least something to pass the time. And in a way I suppose it all came true for me, eventually. Eventually being the operative word here, and okay, I didn’t gain much booty, but I did become filthy filthy rich. But still, we were all after adventure and glory, and so we signed up and the next day we were heading on the trip of a lifetime towards sunny, err, Targos. It's true that there was screaming and wailing and the towns we passed were being burnt to the ground, but quite frankly we thought nothing of it.

“Ahh, feck this ferra game o’ soldiers,” swore Talyn. “It’s only feckin’ pissin’ it doyn. They said we were gonna see the world, but all we’ve seen is the feckin’ river and tundra.”

Oberron glared at our foul-mouthed friend. “Thewe is no need for such language as that, and norw is there any need fow youw own personal pleasure – we have a duty to cawwy out, and best you wemember that.”

“Wight you awe, Obewwon,” I mocked.

He tutted. “Ignominious dwow scoundwel…” I heard him whisper under his breath. As a paladin, Oberron’s little speech impediment provided not only a source of amusement for the rest of us, but also made me wonder… What if he was toe to toe with a great slathering Cornugon and he was trying to be all resolute and paladine… “Foul beast! Wetuwn to that unwighteous plane fwom whence you came!” It would detract from the gravity of the situation rather, I thought.

Still, not as much of a detraction from the gravity of the situation as Darik was. “Personal Pleasure?” he guffawed. “I didn’t think you’d be having any of that, you big shiny lump! Hur hur! Don’t think I don’t know about your ‘buffing the helm’, eh Obie?”

“Dawik! First, never call me Obie, and second, I would never ‘buff the helm’,” he ranted, going red with embarrassment. “That is a wank and foul deed!”

Well, it would have at least explained why he carted around such a colossal sword in an undeniably Freudian manner. One might think he was compensating for something. Darik collapsed with laughter onto the deck, then clambered to the side of the boat, feeling more than a little green and violently blew chunks overboard.

“Ah ha!” exclaimed Oberron, a smug sense of satisfaction on his face. “That is your pushiment fow spreading filthy wumouws about me and my honour!”

Talyn saw fit to chip in here. “Hey, that’s no fair!” he whinged. “How come I’m not bein’ punished?”

Oberron opened his mouth to speak, but Shayla interrupted us all, ever the voice of reason. “Look here boys,” she sighed. “We’re almost in dock. Can we try and at least put up a good impression for Lord Ulbrec… please? Or is that too much to ask?”

No sooner had she said this that Darik broke wind loudly. Shayla sighed in resignation at this, while those of us standing near him had to hold their noses. Wands of Cloudkill had nothing on Darik, and it was evident that there would be no good impressions put up by us any time soon.

When we disembarked from the boat, "The Wicked Wench", it didn't look a particularly salubrious sight. Goblins were charging around everywhere, and the town guardsmen had more than a small job on their hand to clear things up. For each one killed, another three or five would pop out the woodwork and replace their fallen comrade.

Oberron shook his head. "There is a gweat evil afoot here... it must be wooted out!" and strode off full of himself, as ever. Talyn gave him the flying V’s as his back was turned.

Darik grinned like a maniac. "Goblins? Hmph... easy meat!" and ran off to join the fun, his tongue hanging out like a psychopath with an itch.

"HEY! Come back here!" I yelled after them. "Let's stick together, or we'll get slaughtered!"

"You might, drow-boy!" yelled Darik back. "Hurhurhurhur... rock-hugger!"

This is probably the vilest insult possible to a drow. It's almost as suicidal as calling a surface elf a tree hugger. But I didn't care... as long as Darik didn't get himself killed, that was all one to me, so we split up, each taking care of individual houses and slicing up any goblins discovered. This did not take long. Indeed, it was positively tedious. The "See the world, meet interesting people and kill them" proposition had so far been little more than a goblin hunt, and we all know how frustrating goblin hunts are. Especially when they vanish down their little side passages and tunnels, the best way to deal with them then is to cave said tunnels in so they starve to death.

“Right…” I mused. “You pair cover my back if any of the little green bastards tries to sneak up on me from behind. I’m going ahead to have a poke through these houses… they ought to be VERY grateful… heh.”

The first house I came to was inhabited by a fat, fifty-year-old woman who was being menaced by a trio of goblins who had backed her into a corner. She was shrieking and screeching for help, and the goblins were slowly moving in for the kill.

I pulled out my weapons in the most theatrical way I possibly could, and was more than a little surprised, albeit pleasantly, to find that these goblins hadn’t noticed. I wondered if they would notice being skewered.

They didn’t.

“Oh, thank you!” the old lady praised me. “How can I repay you?”

Daft question. “Got any spare cash around?” I asked her, rooting in a nearby box to find a handful of coins.

“Hey!” she gaped in disbelief. “Put that back!”

“Well,” I said. “Maybe if you were a bit grateful about this… that middle goblin had a very sharp-looking spike… could have caused you a nasty injury… Blood poisoning isn’t exactly easy to cure you know…” There was a pause. “Oh well, back to the Wicked Wench then, there’s no welcome for me here.”

“Wicked Wench!” she exploded. “That’s my son’s ship! Why… the ungrateful little scrote… I rue the day I ever squatted him out… Look, just tell the sod I’m okay and he shouldn’t worry about his old ma, not that he does anyhow…”

“Er, okay, I’ll do that.” I told her.


Having regrouped with the rest of the band, we exchanged reports on how things went. Nothing really spectacular, although there were a batch of goblins holed out in some underground caves that we decided we’d tackle later.

"Hey!" came a child's voice from nearby.

"Hello!" said Darik in his perviest voice. "What you after, son?" And Darik's voice could become extremely pervy at times - a repaired harelip does that to people.

The kid swerved to avoid Darik and found Oberron instead.

"Sir!" he yelled. "Lord Ulbrec wants to talk to you urgently! Follow me!"

Oberron looked down at him. "Well... I should be honouwed to meet him, child. Come... companions... and let us see what he wants."

***

Lord Ulbrec was a balding former adventurer type, however, he was still tough looking and not a man to cross. His house was a fairly nice one for a pissant four-street burg such as this, and it was awash with books.

Oberron's first action upon entering, however, was to drop to his knees before such an important individual, much to the chagrin of the rest of us. There are those who dislike the paladine stereotype of the evil-smiting, armour-polishing celibate sorts, but there are those who confirm it, and Oberron J. Buchanana was one such. "My Lord," he fawned. "It is twuly an honour to meet you."

Lord Ulbrec snapped at him, "Get up you shiny prat!"

Oberron got up, the shiny prat.

“Wait here, make yourselves at home, I’ll be with you in a sec,” he told us as he vanished into a back room. We obliged – Oberron by standing stiffly on ceremony, Darik by slobbing onto the floor and proceeding to degunge his toenails with a throwing knife, Talyn by stretching out on the sofa, and Shayla and I by poking through his bookcase.

“Hmmm, this looks interesting,” I remarked, and pulled out a thick, grey-bound volume with a symbolic tree on the front. “The Legend of Kuldahar... most likely the exploits of Goldoran and his lady friend Jamatise… and the demon Belhifet.”

“This doesn’t,” pointed out Shayla, extracting a slim, softbacked volume featuring a vivid picture taking up the entirety of the cover. The work was credited to an author named Salvatore. “It’s about a drow ranger who wields a pair of magic scimitars he found in a cave and has a pet panther. He’s meant to be some sort of legend. Drizzt, it says his name is.”

“Drizzt!” I yelled. “What a poser. Give ME a pet panther and a trilogy of spin-off novels and I’ll kick him into touch!”

“Maybe so,” piped up Oberron, “but Dwizzt is a bastion for good in this wetched wowld, and best you wemember that, Kandwon! You may depend on him to save your evil-doing little life one day!”

“I highly doubt it,” I replied.

At this point Lord Ulbrec saw fit to meet with us.

"Well, people..." said Lord Ulbrec, "at least one band of mercenaries decided to show up. So that's a point against the Iron Collar band already, they're just sat there in the pub drinking like fishes."

"Pub? You mean... there's a pub in this cowshite backwater?!" said Talyn.

Lord Ulbrec rolled his eyes. "Down by the docks. I think that the Iron Collar band should be, erm..."

I butted in. "You mean they should be... released from your employ, yes?"

Oberron went pale. "You mean... you want us... to... Sweet Torm, that is dishonouwable beyond belief!"

"Oberron..." I said. "They're most likely evil-doers. You can smite them safe in the knowledge that Sweet Torm will look upon you favourably."

"Err... emmm... ahh... Since when have I ever taken counsel from a dwow? You should just count yourself lucky that you are not smitten!"

At this point Shayla spoke up for the first time all meeting. Not a great talker, was Shayla. "Boys, quit it!" she said irritably. I remember thinking, if ever she had children, Lolth save them.

Sighing in resignation, we did, and Ulbrec went on.

"Not at all. Just go down there and see if they're willing to slaughter goblins up on the palisade or kegs down in the Salty Dog. Oh, and can you pick my new broadsword up from the smith's on the way back, there's a good chap."

“Can’t you do it, Lord Ulbrec?” I pleaded.

“Well, no.” he replied. “What if the goblins attack the palisade while I’m fetching my new sword? Anyhow, someone’s got to stay here and keep things in order.”

I sighed in resignation as I sidled out the door. I suppose every aspiring adventurer has to start somewhere. At least it wasn't, "Go and fetch my potato."

***********

That's all for now. See you next time, and do pass comment.

#2 Guest_Chantrys_*

Posted 24 August 2003 - 03:12 AM

Hiya, and welcome! :)

Comments...comments...well, I'm still pretty weak from laughter, so I'm afraid all I have is "Fantastic!" and "That was brilliant!" and "When can we expect the next chapter?"

And I'm now very fond of Oberron, which may or may not be a good thing. Great job! :)

#3 Guest_IronDragon_*

Posted 24 August 2003 - 08:02 AM

Hullo people... I'm new here, so don't be too harsh on me.

I’ve never seen anyone here be harsh so I don’t think you that to worry about.

There's a bit of a gulf in the IWD, IWDII novelisation sector... possibly because there's not very many givens, and it's just too broad. BG, BGII there's plenty defined stuff already, so you just invent a main character and put your own spin on things. But anyhow, here goes...

I am completely unfamiliar with IceWind Dale games but I do love a good story. I’ve go t my popcorn, my diet coke, entertain me. :D

That was me, Kandron H. Devore, with my four compatriots – Talyn Longbranch, a darthiir ranger with a longbow and a filthy mouth, Darik Ironbeard, a dwarf with a massive axe and a filthy mind,

Most rangers I have known have dirty minds and most dearves I have known have dirty mouths. I’m sure these two get along famously

Shayla Devilsboon, a swarthy looking wizardess who had small horns jutting out her forehead and was squeaky clean in almost every way,

Am sure the horns are quite the conversation piece. :)

a selfrighteous paladin named Oberron Buchanana, who had a Freudian two handed sword and a filthy obsession with smiting evil-doers.

to paraphrase Freud: sometimes a sword is just a sword. Smiting evil-doers is a dirty job, but somebody has to do it. :?

We were sailing up the river to the town of Targos, courtesy of a company known as “VirginAdventuring”, where we were to have a chance to strike a blow against evil by helping defend the town against the Legion of the Chimaera, and acquire wealth, power, and more girls – or boys in Shayla’s case – than our tongues could cope with, if one was to believe the propaganda. Speaking of propaganda, here's a copy of the recruitment poster that was most commonly sighted round Luskan:

Are they listed in the yellow pages?

"ADVENTURERS!"

"Do you feel inadequate when you see your comrades carting home enormous trugs of gold, buying up +5 Swords of Facesmashery, Wands of Utter Burnination, and Great Big War Hammers Of Cranium Denting, and you're stuck in the bar telling the same tired old tales about you and your rusty, musty, trusty broadsword?"

"Are you willing to strike a blow against evil and darkness and at the same time become filthy filthy rich?"

"Would you like to see the world, meet interesting new people, and violently slaughter them?"

“Would you like to become the most eligible bachelor on your block – hell no, in your entire home town?”

"If the answer to these questions is "YES", then don't delay! Come down to your local branch of the Luskan City Guard and sign up! No special skills are necessary, and you WILL gain much booty (in both senses of the word!)”

Uncle Elminster wants you!

“VirginAdventuring takes no responsibility for death, loss of limbs, blindness, madness, dismemberment, gibbitude, emasculation, blood loss, exotic diseases, or third- and fourth-degree burns suffered while on this quest. Much booty offer conditional to availability. Interesting new people classed according to our staff’s opinions. Once in a lifetime opportunity dependent on successes/failures of applicant adventuring parties.”

I always ignore fine print….and for good reason

“Ahh, feck this ferra game o’ soldiers,” swore Talyn. “It’s only feckin’ pissin’ it doyn. They said we were gonna see the world, but all we’ve seen is the feckin’ river and tundra.”

This would be Shayla speaking right?

Oberron glared at our foul-mouthed friend. “Thewe is no need for such language as that, and norw is there any need fow youw own personal pleasure – we have a duty to cawwy out, and best you wemember that.”

Shhhhhh….be vewy vwey qwiet. I’m hunting dwagons.

Still, not as much of a detraction from the gravity of the situation as Darik was. “Personal Pleasure?” he guffawed. “I didn’t think you’d be having any of that, you big shiny lump! Hur hur! Don’t think I don’t know about your ‘buffing the helm’, eh Obie?”

Well a good paladin always keeps his equipment well rubbed. :D

Oberron opened his mouth to speak, but Shayla interrupted us all, ever the voice of reason. “Look here boys,” she sighed. “We’re almost in dock. Can we try and at least put up a good impression for Lord Ulbrec… please? Or is that too much to ask?”

Yes it is to much to ask…


Oberron shook his head. "There is a gweat evil afoot here... it must be wooted out!"

I wonder what his first clue was.

This is probably the vilest insult possible to a drow. It's almost as suicidal as calling a surface elf a tree hugger. But I didn't care... as long as Darik didn't get himself killed, that was all one to me, so we split up, each taking care of individual houses and slicing up any goblins discovered. This did not take long. Indeed, it was positively tedious. The "See the world, meet interesting people and kill them" proposition had so far been little more than a goblin hunt, and we all know how frustrating goblin hunts are. Especially when they vanish down their little side passages and tunnels, the best way to deal with them then is to cave said tunnels in so they starve to death.

Novice adventures always fight either goblins or kabolds. I think it’s even a rule in the 3rd edition.

The kid swerved to avoid Darik and found Oberron instead.

"Sir!" he yelled. "Lord Ulbrec wants to talk to you urgently! Follow me!"

Oberron looked down at him. "Well... I should be honouwed to meet him, child. Come... companions... and let us see what he wants."

The kid should have stuck with the pervey dwarf.

“This doesn’t,” pointed out Shayla, extracting a slim, softbacked volume featuring a vivid picture taking up the entirety of the cover. The work was credited to an author named Salvatore. “It’s about a drow ranger who wields a pair of magic scimitars he found in a cave and has a pet panther. He’s meant to be some sort of legend. Drizzt, it says his name is.”

Shayla has a good eye for books. :)

“Maybe so,” piped up Oberron, “but Dwizzt is a bastion for good in this wetched wowld, and best you wemember that, Kandwon! You may depend on him to save your evil-doing little life one day!”

NOOOOO, please no celebrity guest appearances.

"Err... emmm... ahh... Since when have I ever taken counsel from a dwow? You should just count yourself lucky that you are not smitten!"

Well I’m sure somebody will eventually be smitten with Oberon.

I sighed in resignation as I sidled out the door. I suppose every aspiring adventurer has to start somewhere. At least it wasn't, "Go and fetch my potato."

Get used to it. No matter how powerful you become there are going to be people sending you all over the map picking up and delivering useless objects.

#4 Guest_argan_*

Posted 24 August 2003 - 11:04 AM

This was bloody excellent!!

Loved Obewwon! :)

#5 Guest_Withiel_*

Posted 24 August 2003 - 02:28 PM

How very entertaining, Jon......and thats sans sarcasm for the first time in a while :shock:. looking forward to the next part very much.

#6 Guest_Hunter_*

Posted 24 August 2003 - 02:45 PM

Hullo people... I'm new here, so don't be too harsh on me.


*sharpens knives and prepares my whip*

There's a bit of a gulf in the IWD, IWDII novelisation sector... possibly because there's not very many givens, and it's just too broad. BG, BGII there's plenty defined stuff already, so you just invent a main character and put your own spin on things. But anyhow, here goes... :shock:


Basically, thre not much to work with in IWD.

"Do you feel inadequate when you see your comrades carting home enormous trugs of gold, buying up +5 Swords of Facesmashery, Wands of Utter Burnination, and Great Big War Hammers Of Cranium Denting, and you're stuck in the bar telling the same tired old tales about you and your rusty, musty, trusty broadsword?"


"Are you willing to strike a blow against evil and darkness and at the same time become filthy filthy rich?"


Sounds good to me.

"Would you like to see the world, meet interesting new people, and violently slaughter them?"


Ahhh.

“Would you like to become the most eligible bachelor on your block – hell no, in your entire home town?”


wouldn't be so bad.

There was also some fine print at the bottom:


Irellevant!

He tutted. “Ignominious dwow scoundwel…” I heard him whisper under his breath. As a paladin, Oberron’s little speech impediment provided not only a source of amusement for the rest of us, but also made me wonder… What if he was toe to toe with a great slathering Cornugon and he was trying to be all resolute and paladine… “Foul beast! Wetuwn to that unwighteous plane fwom whence you came!” It would detract from the gravity of the situation rather, I thought.


Perhaps the beast would laugh itself to death.

Well, it would have at least explained why he carted around such a colossal sword in an undeniably Freudian manner. One might think he was compensating for something. Darik collapsed with laughter onto the deck, then clambered to the side of the boat, feeling more than a little green and violently blew chunks overboard.


“Ah ha!” exclaimed Oberron, a smug sense of satisfaction on his face. “That is your pushiment fow spreading filthy wumouws about me and my honour!”


That must feel sooo good.

Oberron's first action upon entering, however, was to drop to his knees before such an important individual, much to the chagrin of the rest of us. There are those who dislike the paladine stereotype of the evil-smiting, armour-polishing celibate sorts, but there are those who confirm it, and Oberron J. Buchanana was one such. "My Lord," he fawned. "It is twuly an honour to meet you."


Lord Ulbrec snapped at him, "Get up you shiny prat!"


*Sigh* Always someone has to make fun of paladins.

“This doesn’t,” pointed out Shayla, extracting a slim, softbacked volume featuring a vivid picture taking up the entirety of the cover. The work was credited to an author named Salvatore. “It’s about a drow ranger who wields a pair of magic scimitars he found in a cave and has a pet panther. He’s meant to be some sort of legend. Drizzt, it says his name is.”


“Drizzt!” I yelled. “What a poser. Give ME a pet panther and a trilogy of spin-off novels and I’ll kick him into touch!”


Ohh, the envy.


Nice

Hunter

#7 Guest_TheBeastlordJohnny_*

Posted 24 August 2003 - 05:40 PM

Well, thank you people for those votes of confidence.

Unfortunately, thanks to the infernal slowness of things round here (and I'm a broadband user!) I'm unable to comment on your comments - it keeps giving me an "Invalid_Session" error. Anyone know why?

The next few instalments are gonna be posted accoring to the strict timetable of, "whenever I feel like it". Sorry it can't be more regular. :shock:

#8 Guest_IronDragon_*

Posted 24 August 2003 - 06:07 PM

The next few instalments are gonna be posted accoring to the strict timetable of, "whenever I feel like it". Sorry it can't be more regular.


Have you tried fiber?

#9 Guest_Chantrys_*

Posted 24 August 2003 - 06:17 PM

Unfortunately, thanks to the infernal slowness of things round here (and I'm a broadband user!) I'm unable to comment on your comments - it keeps giving me an "Invalid_Session" error. Anyone know why?


I think it's a session timeout thing. :shock: It helps if you periodically preview as you write.




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