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| Baldur's Gate Fanfic (unf) by Bill Dungsroman 07/21/2003, 4:27pm PDT | ||||
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| BILDUNG’S GATE
Chapter 1 After such a peaceful yet boring upbringing by adopted father Gorion, CHAR NAME wanted nothing more than to live life outside the often-confining walls of Candlekeep. Its impressive library – the largest along the Sword Coast – meant little to CHAR NAME beyond the long hours spent nearly every day among its dusty shelves and archaic tomes. At least CHAR NAME had Imoen – another adoptee of the benevolent if stern wizard Gorion – for companionship and company. Sure, CHAR NAME hated the sound of her voice and entertained endless scenarios that lead to her violent and untimely death, but the days were long at Candlekeep. She was kind of hot when she kept her mouth shut, but CHAR NAME had conflicting feelings about that. Such silly things to think about, CHAR NAME thought with a rueful grin. Then, aloud, “I need to be more productive with my time.†What good were such thoughts? CHAR NAME walked lazily to Candlekeep’s library, responding to a summons by Gorion. It was urgent, but Gorion’s summons always were, so CHAR NAME wasn’t very concerned about making haste. Imoen was near the carved stone stairs that led up to the library’s entrance, crouched down and petting a stray kitten. She looked up at CHAR NAME quickly. She always had a way of knowing when CHAR NAME was near; there was no sneaking up on her. Her face lit up and she stood. “Heya! It’s me, Imoen!†“Yes?†“Whatcha want?†“I should not just stand about,†CHAR NAME said, throwing a glance at the library door. CHAR NAME was sure Imoen knew of Gorion’s summons. She always knew what Gorion was up to, especially if it involved CHAR NAME. Naturally, why else would Imoen be hanging about in front of the library – a place she detested far worse than CHAR NAME did – absent-mindedly petting some stray, if not to get information out of CHAR NAME regarding the summons? “I care not,†Imoen replied, feigning indifference. I would just bet, CHAR NAME thought. “Very well,†CHAR NAME said, heading up the stairs to the library door. Imoen would be closely – albeit very quietly behind, hoping to eavesdrop on the conversation. She would have, anyway, if Gorion hadn’t nearly leapt from the shadows, taken CHAR NAME by the arm, and immediately went to the nearest side room and slammed the door shut. CHAR NAME had never seen Gorion this way. His face was pale, and he seemed agitated, far more than CHAR NAME had ever witnessed. A small pang of fear slowly but steadily crept into CHAR NAME’s body. Gorion apologized for his odd behavior and went into a hurried explanation for it. He revealed that CHAR NAME’s life may very well be in grave danger and to pack and meet Gorion back at the library as soon as possible, for they would be departing for the Friendly Arm Inn forthwith. Gorion also told CHAR NAME to not tell Imoen about this affair, for even the smallest knowledge of it could jeopardize her own life. CHAR NAME nodded in acknowledgment and left the library. As CHAR NAME was walking out of the library, a small nondescript wizard dressed in green robes appeared suddenly, and instructed CHAR NAME on how to walk, converse with other people, and other various mundane activities, including odd references to loading and saving – perhaps CHAR NAME was considering work on a caravan that transported perishable items? CHAR NAME seemed agreeable to the mysterious wizards instructions, even though no response was given. Regardless of Gorion’s dire urgings, CHAR NAME felt no particular need to hurry; Gorion wasn’t going anywhere without him. CHAR NAME decided to see if anyone around Candlekeep needed help, in a final effort to earn some gold and acquire some more items beyond that plain wooden staff that was always around. As it turned out, quite a few people needed help: Phlydia couldn’t find her book, Hull the soldier misplaced his sword, that sort of thing. The Weapons Master trained CHAR NAME in rudimentary ways of combat. CHAR NAME stopped at the local inn – the inn also served as a shop – and purchased some necessary items for the impending journey. Finally, CHAR NAME met back up with Gorion. Curiously, Imoen had been nowhere to be seen the whole time. CHAR NAME would have thought she would have appeared immediately, full of sly questions about Gorion. CHAR NAME departed with Gorion from Candlekeep without incident as the sun set. As they walked along the road to the Friendly Arm Inn (horses would have been a good idea, but all the horses disappeared some time ago, and no one thought much of using any other beast for transportation), Gorion revealed more about their situation. He told CHAR NAME that a man, a large and powerful warrior named Sarevok, had learned of Gorion and CHAR NAME’s whereabouts and was coming to kill them both. Gorion mentioned that two friends of his, Khalid and Jaheria, were waiting for them and the Friendly Arm. Even though Khalid and Jaheira weren’t any more experienced in the world than CHAR NAME, Gorion seemed confident that they would be able to help. Then, a large figure appeared behind them on the road. Gorion seemed to sense the approaching figure and turned to confront him. He was difficult to make out in the deepening gloom, but his size was formidable. At once he spoke, a deep growling rumble, and demanded Gorion to hand over CHAR NAME. Gorion refused, calling the man Sarevok by name, and the two plunged into battle immediately. CHAR NAME was frozen to the spot, unable to assist in the fight or run. Was it fear? All CHAR NAME could do was watch Gorion cast his spells at Sarevok, as Sarevok closed impossibly fast and swung away with his large sword. As was the case with most wizards of these times engaging in close combat with an accomplished warrior, Gorion died fairly quickly, swinging ineffectually with his plain wooden staff as he was cut down. Seeing his adoptive father cut down so…well, easily, was a tough sight for CHAR NAME to witness. What would happen now? Suddenly everything began to fade to black. Was CHAR NAME passing out, out of fear and loss? Then, everything came back into sharp focus. Sarevok was nowhere to be seen. Gorion’s body was gone, but the dead usually disappeared in such a way (except in the most unusual of circumstances, and in such situations it was apparent that the body must be taken somewhere else, or perhaps resurrected). Gorion’s possessions, some of them anyway, lay on the ground in a small pile. CHAR NAME picked up all the items put them away. Then, a voice behind him: “I feel so cold.†CHAR NAME turned around to see Imoen standing close by (how had she gotten so close?), her arms folded about her, her eyes staring blankly at the spot where Gorion had died. At once CHAR NAME realized why Imoen had seemed so scarce upon departure from Candlekeep: she had packed up and followed them discretely. Usually, this made CHAR NAME (and Gorion especially) angry, but at this moment it was a relief. But the abysmally mournful look in Imoen’s eyes forced a pang of guilt into CHAR NAME. She shouldn’t have been here, she shouldn’t have had to see this. “None other than me should be in this place.†CHAR NAME looked at the spot where Gorion died as Imoen did, then down the road to The Friendly Arm, then back up the road to Candlekeep (he immediately decided that he couldn’t go back there just yet), finally returning to Imoen’s face. “What now, I wonder?†Imoen looked up at CHAR NAME and their gazes met. Her face hardened somewhat, and she took CHAR NAME’s hand gently. “This way,†was all she could manage around tears. She led them down along the road to The Friendly Arm Inn, the both of them walking side by side in the darkness. Chapter 2 The Friendly Arm Inn greeted them in time. At once it rose up before them, its torch fires blazing in the thick night. The Inn was more than just a simple lodge. Indeed, it was more a keep itself, walled in with battlements and a great gate. And it had served as such, an old outpost for soldiers from an earlier time. The owner of the Inn, XXXXX, was a former adventurer and warrior himself, and found the strong high walls comfortable and safe, and believed his patrons felt likewise. Upon entering the Inn proper, CHAR NAME and Imoen scanned about the dimly lit tavern for those who might match the descriptions Gorion gave CHAR NAME. A male and female, both half-elven, the man a fighter and the woman a druid. A sturdy yet jittery fellow hung about in one corner of the room, looking about nervously. Seated next to him, nearly asleep with apparent boredom, was a young, beautiful girl in leather armor. What CHAR NAME guessed to be his sword and shield and her staff leaned against the couch they sat on in between them. They both had slender tapering ears, and the woman’s eyes and high check bones suggested Elven blood, though the man’s face was more wide and angular like a human’s. CHAR NAME and Imeon approached the pair warily. After the shock they had suffered earlier with the death of their adoptive father, it wouldn’t have surprised either of them if these two were some sort of malevolent decoy masquerading as their contacts. CHAR NAME’s hands fidgeted nervously at his sides, as if to be at the ready to draw his weapon, or perhaps cast a spell, would that were his field of study. Their careful gazes met those of the half-Elven pair. The sort of odd recognition that only people who are meant to be met but have never yet passed among the four. The half-Elven pair rose, the man perhaps a bit too sharply. At length he said “Can I help you?†The woman said nothing, eyeing CHAR NAME with a stare that was far too complex and mysterious for him to gauge. |
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