Faerun was far from a peaceful place. But to those who knew it well, it was a wonderfully reality. But as portals opened across the lands, who knew if these 'outsiders' would think the same.
I've been involving myself in the setting of the Forgotten Realms (and Dungeons and Dragons in general) since I was around 12, and have since branched out to just about every other major tabletop setting. From Shadowrun, Gamma World, to even learning a bit of German for Das Schwarze Auge. But I found myself time and time again coming back home to D&D, so I figured, why not write a story for it? But that on its own is rather... plain, and honestly, there's something I've wanted to write for a while.
Namely, Monsters. I've fit them into several stories, as people with such drastic differences to normal humans interest me heavily. Our story involves the protagonist Baeran, half-elven Paladin of Sune. On his journey to find out where all these new... interesting people are coming from. The designs and (general) personality of the characters in question borrow from the MGE, but the setting itself has been discarded. Due to not being my particular taste, and also featuring a (lot) of content that would get me rather quickly banned from SV.
This story will feature adult content per the subject matter, but like all my other stories, I plan on handling such in a mature, reasonable manner, this is not a sex fic. This is an 'aliens are invading Faerun and for once it's not the Illithids'... fic. With that said, please enjoy, and thank you for giving this a shot!
You smile, raising a hand gingerly. "I'm afraid I cannot, I'm much too chivalrous for that." The other raises a second later as the young dwarven woman takes a bold step forward, and you take an equally bold step back.
"And what does that mean?!" the dwarven princess retorts, showing far more energy than she had her entire captivity or rescue by those Lolth worshiping goblins. She was the usual sort of this town, Overlook, The great above-ground dwarven stronghold of the east- proud, and about as used to not getting what they wanted as a cat.
At least her look wasn't that of greed, it was raw adoration, that, in many ways however, was worse. "Because, dear Stoutiron, I have word of a dragon in the mountains just east of here that has been harassing cattle, and beyond that, while I may be a Paladin of Sune, I shall not court until I have removed the ultimate evil from this world." You move one of the hands onto her shoulder, both to support her, and to keep a healthy distance. Then you smile. "My deepest apologies, know that I am flattered for the offer."
Stoutiron flushes so deeply that her brown skin starts to resemble clay. "What… what bravery! But you will come back here once you've done that, right?"
You smile a touch wider, lowering yourself so that you are eye to eye with the dwarf. Her eyes dart over your face, as if trying to memorize it. "Of course I will. But for now, I must be off." Then without another word you stand and turn, your cape waving behind you as you make your way out of the high council chambers. It was an interesting place, both the city, and the chambers, the Dwarves of course were a short race, proud, well built, and damned fine people all around, but short, nevertheless. Yet they insisted on their council chambers being as tall and dignified as Castle Never. It took a minute of walking to fully leave the chamber, and only finally then once outside with none but the guards, and your ever waiting squire for company, you allowed your shoulders to relax slightly. Not much, you had to keep up appearances, but slightly.
"Another one, boss?" Fuyao asks. The Kara-Turan stands near the door, sitting on the truly gigantic pack she saw fit to carry around. It, standing easily at a good four feet tall if placed upon its bottom, nearly rose to her diminutive height of five feet flat. How she managed to carry it from day to day was beyond your understanding, and any attempt on your part to carry it yourself met with as much of a stern disagreement from her as you ever got about anything. Beyond that, the woman herself was in her armor, that odd scale mail from her homeland, complete with the domed hat covered in the same silver scales. It was effective, but somehow made her seem only shorter instead of taller. Bits of her raven black hair stuck out from underneath the helmet, her twin gold eyes blinking at you.
"I'm sure I have no idea what you mean," you reply, smiling.
"Course not," Fuyao replies then hops off the pack. She lets out a little battlecry as she does so, arms stretched forward to balance herself. Then, reaching back she lifts up the pack and sticks her arms through it, tying several knots across her body to balance the weight over the course of several seconds, before, nodding to herself, she looks back towards you once more. "Take it we're not staying in town boss?"
"I'm afraid not, there's been a dragon sighted to the east, over in the Greypeak mountains, slaughtering cattle."
"And you need to run away from another marriage in progress." Fuyao replies, moving to stand behind you, a flat, almost bored expression on her face.
"She's young, she shall find another."
"Eventually they're going to catch you, you are aware of that, right?"
You smile a touch wider, "and if they do, that means their feelings were genuine, now come squire, we have a dragon to hunt."
—
Your name was Baeran Anderghast. A fine thirty years of age, half-elven, born in a brothel in Silverymoon. This past was not something of shame to you, for you found continued guidance in your life from the goddess of love, Sune, and the temple that was your birthplace served to help guide you to the point in your life where you were now. As a Brother of the Ruby Rose, you sought to rid the world of evil and ugliness, and for the past twenty years of your life had done so ably. Dragons, demons, devils and necromancers, you had hunted them all, and had built quite a reputation for yourself, and of course, with that came a.. following.
You had your fair share of… admirers, would be the gentle word. But none particularly interested you, they were beautiful, certainly, both the men and the women. But you were an adventurer, which meant by nature you had known them only briefly. Far too short for anything approaching 'love' to form. Would Stoutiron persevere? Holding onto her feelings like a candle? Or would you be forgotten in time, you couldn't quite say. You were off on your next task, and though some may call it a lonely existence, you found you didn't much mind. Protecting the realms had its own benefits, after all.
Your squire was currently reaping those benefits in fact, she was busy pocketing all the food the citizens of Overlook were offering towards you. You refused it as a matter of course, but the especially pushy ones tended to find their way into Fuyao's possession. It was not a part of the job you liked, as you did not hunt evil for the reward.
… And yet, you could admit a strangeness to the air as you rode out of Overlook, your squire sitting on her own, smaller mount and keeping pace just beside you. A taste of something, a hint, an inkling, it was… "Destiny." You murmur.
Fuyao looks up from where she had been reading her map. "What?"
"I'm feeling the call of destiny today, Sune is watching us."
Fuyao blinks, then casts her gaze up towards the cloudless sky. "She is?"
You chuckle. "Do not strain your neck warrior, she is with us in spirit, if not in person."
Fuyao continues staring for several seconds before allowing her head to drop again. Then, producing a small pastry one of the dwarves had given her earlier she takes a bite out of it, crumbs falling down to create a small trail on the dirt path leading back to Overlook behind her. "Right, think we can actually get a break after this one boss? We did just ride for three days."
You grimace slightly, "my apologies, I promise you rest once I have investigated this business, but for now we must make our way to the mountains. After Overlook's last dragon problem, I see no reason to allow this one to remain any longer than it has."
"Yeah, but that dragon was raising the dead, not stealing cattle."
"Which makes me hopeful that perhaps it is simply a young wyrm, or perhaps a friendlier species that is merely adapting to a new environment." You reply. "I do hate slaying dragons, majestic creatures."
"The God back home is a dragon," Fuyao replies, shoving the rest of the pastry in her mouth as she does so. "He taxed us."
You don't respond to that, merely focusing your gaze towards the mountains to the east, hoping to see some sign of the beast from here. But there was nothing but farmland. Running your gauntlet through the mane of your horse for a moment, you begin your next journey.
—
Divination is a wonderful gift to receive. You do not need to bother the farmers from their work, you do not need to search for tracks. Instead you merely had to ask, and you received your answer. It was less than a day of travel to reach the mountains, and from there, even less time to scale towards where the Dragon was making its abode.
The mountains of Greypeak were a cragged, broken mess of black and gray rocks, with little in the way of vegetation or interesting sites to see. Plenty of creatures made their homes within their wide expanse, but unlike others… they were very… plain. Regardless, your prey had not proven itself hard to find. From nearly the moment you had started going up the mountains a few miles from the farm in question, you began to hear… the sounds.
Not the growl of a dragon, or the bellow of its flame. But grunts, and the sound of clanging metal. That immediately made your mind wonder, perhaps bandits pretending to be a dragon? It wouldn't be the first time for certain, but then, you must wonder what the point of the ruse was. Overlook was a city filled to the brim with adventurers, and many would immediately jump at the chance to gain glory by slaying a dragon, a foolhardy endeavor or not.
The clangs and shouts filled the air, echoing off the stone peaks, until finally, you were fairly confident it was just around the corner. You pressed yourself against the rock, then held a hand behind you for your squire to hold position. Then you drew your sword and stepped around the rock to find…
Or at the very least, one in human form. She stood a good eight feet tall, her arms and legs covered in bronze scales. Her skin was deeply tanned, and at the moment covered in a good deal of perspiration from the exercise she was putting herself through. At least, that which wasn't covered in a rather rough hide armor. A poleaxe was held tight in both hands, swinging against a metal training dummy, sparks flying off with each impact. Her orange hair whipped behind her, as did a flaming… tail. She was not a red, that much was certain, bronze perhaps, those were a familiar and friendly sort.
"Hail." You say, stepping fully out.
The woman pauses mid swing of her poleaxe, then looks towards you. Then she grins, and wickedly at that. "FINALLY!" her voice booms over the small rocky clearing. Then, without another word, she charges, a bare, scaled foot digging into the rock with enough force to dig into it slightly, then she launches herself, clearing the twenty feet or so between the two of you rather quickly, her poleaxe's blade swinging directly for your head.
You step to the side, not raising your blade as her poleaxe slams into the rock, sparks flying as a loud clang sounds through the air. "Are you the one stealing cattle?" you ask.
"Fight me!" the woman shouts, the smile on her face only getting wider.
"I'll take that as a yes," you reply.
Her poleaxe is ripped from the rock and swings back in a wide, cleaving arc. You bring up your blade and parry the swing up and over your head. Then you shove yourself forward, your shoulder colliding with her midsection and causing her to stumble back.
A laugh tears free from her throat, the flames of her tail roaring to life. Before she attempted the same maneuver, launching herself forward, her weapon held low in her hands. She tilts herself to slam her shoulder into your chest. You debate moving, but with your current position, she would possibly go tumbling off a cliff, and she may not have the ability to turn back to her draconic form before something worse happened.
You brace yourself, and with a smash of flesh upon a steel plate she hits, forcing you back a good few inches while she herself bounces off to hit the ground. Her weapon clatters to the ground, and you stare down at it, then at her. The woman clutching the side of her face.
"I would not suggest ramming a man in full plate, unless you are wearing the same yourself."
The woman growls, the pain apparently forgotten at your suggestion, and her hand stabs out to grab her poleaxe then swing it upwards. You step to the side, then slap your blade back, sending the weapon flying across the clearing to clatter against the mountainside.
The woman looks at you, briefly adopting what you would call a boxing stance, before she leaps back, grabbing her weapon once more. There, a good ten feet apart from one another you each shift position. You, for your part, merely watch, your blade ready to parry. While she shifts from form to form, a red tassel hanging from the shaft of her poleaxe waving with every movement. Then she launched herself once more, her grip on the poleaxe higher than it had been previously, as she swung it around like a club towards your head.
… It was a very poor decision. You raised your blade with both hands, and instead of attempting to parry, you simply caught the shaft of her weapon with your enchanted steel. Her momentum at once ceased, then changed. The woman letting out a yelp as at first, her entire body vibrated, then she fell to a heap on the floor.
"Your weapon is one of distance, charging me is ill-advised." You offer.
"Didn't ask!" she roars. Recovering admirably. Launching herself back with one arm pressed against the ground, she catches herself in a three-point stance, then stabs her poleaxe forward.
You step aside, idly batting your sword against the shaft. "Better."
"SHUT IT!"
She yanks the weapon back, dragging it to the side all the while, hoping to slam it against your side. You slam your blade underneath it and lift, forcing the blow far above your head, and sending her spinning off-balance as a consequence. She stumbles, letting out several distressed, undignified noises before she catches herself. Bringing herself around once more, her hands moving all the way to the base of her weapon to swing it with as much reach as possible.
You frown. Then swing your sword, she had some strength to her, but with her weapon that far forward…
The blade collides with the shaft, and she is yanked forward by the sudden shift in momentum. You step forward, allowing her sternum to collide with your elbow, and at once, all of the woman's breath explodes out of her before she falls back to the ground, her weapon clattering off to the side somewhere.
Your blade shifts, and the woman's eyes cross to stare at the tip of it now pointing towards her neck. "Yield, please."
The woman growls, the flame of her tail hot enough that you could feel it through your armor. Then, much to your surprise, she… blushes, and looks away before nodding.
Well then.
—
You set the blade back into its sheath with a click, then, after a moment's thought, set it down against one of the many rocks that built up this area of the Greypeak Mountains. Reaching up, you pull off your helmet as well, allowing your hair to flow free for the first time in many hours. It… was something you had worn now for many years, but nothing quite ever was as wonderful as removing it after a long day. A moment later the skullcap joins it, tossed inside the helmet and set next to the sword.
Then you walked to the edge of the cliff, overlooking the vale, or, in this case, the city of Overlook far in the distance, the forge fires of the dwarves distant visible even from here. Twisted smokes of black and gray rising into the air. It was an impressive sight, though something far nearer was almost as impressive, if only for the fact that she had almost managed to take you by surprise via her assault. You had hardly met anything with a flaming tail short of a Salamander. Between her deep tan skin you had only seen from the lands of Chult, to her bright orange hair and… less than conservative outfit, she was a definite, striking figure.
She was also currently sulking. Her tail wrapped about herself and currently caused some stones to turn to glass around her. Smoking rising from her body in places, residual heat, if you were to wager. She was also covered in a fair amount of blood, you had held back as best you could once you realized the woman, while draconic, was in no way the dragon you had been sent to hunt. But she seemed to have little in the way of self preservation. Of course, now she was just staring off into the distance, arms wrapped around her knees.
You suppose it was time for you to truly get to the bottom of this situation. "Are you quite alright miss…?"
"... Ignis." The woman replies, her bright red eyes flitting to you a moment before she returns to gazing out over the landscape.
"You wouldn't happen to be partially a dragon, would you?" you ask.
The woman now known to be Ignis gains an annoyed expression then shakes her head. "Those stuck up bitches? No. Always acting like they rule the world."
You smile thinly. "I find it depends entirely on the type, indeed, there is a gold dragon quite fond of me in fact. But, ignoring that, are you alright?"
Ignis frowns. "No. I couldn't even scratch you."
"My apologies, but I came prepared to fight a dragon," you say slowly. "So I took the matter rather seriously. Are you… upset that you were bested?"
Ignis gives you a look like you are quite stupid. "My mother always said that when I found someone who could beat me, or at least match me, I'd know I'd found the one. But I couldn't even scratch you! It was over in seconds, like… yeah, it was kind of hot I guess. But there was no satisfaction in it."
Ah, barbarian culture, this was a type you had run into before. Though, of course, such dealings usually involved either talking down or beheading the chief so that the rest of the clan fell in line. You had more than a few up north in Icewind Dale that demanded you come back to pay various forms of restitution, mostly coming from the chief's wives for the most part you found. "My apologies for not dragging along the fight, when one is fighting a dragon one should aim to attack hard and as quickly as possible before the situation gets out of hand."
"I'm not a dragon!" Ignis snaps.
"But I believed you to be so, so by the time I started holding back it was much too late."
"That was you holding back?" Ignis asks, disbelief filling her voice.
You tilt your head. "Yes? I have received no word that you are my prey, unless you have been the one harassing the local farmers."
Ignis looks away, her cheeks coloring despite the heat of her flame and the tan of her skin. "... Maybe."
"Might I ask why?"
Ignis sighs, looking down towards the chipped axe in her hand. One hit against your own had seen fit to crush a large section of the metal, the edge truly ruined. "Was looking for a husband."
You nod. "So, you attacked the farmers seeking a strong opponent that you may wed, retreated up to the mountains between attacks. Then I found you here, defeated you, but you feel unfulfilled due to the fact that the battle ended quickly."
Ignis nods.
"I cannot condone your actions against the local populace, even if none came to harm. You did damage property and stole sheep."
"I was hungry." Ignis says quietly.
"Be that as it may, stealing is a crime, if you wish for something you can simply pay for it."
"... Pay?" Ignis parrots.
"Indeed, pay." You say slowly. "Do you not have the concept of currency?"
Ignis thinks, claw moving to her chin. As she does so, her tail lightly taps against the ground, the flames you note having died well down. "No? If I want something, I just take it."
"I am afraid I cannot abide that as a Paladin."
Ignis tilts her head, her red eyes blinking. "Paladin?"
"Indeed, a Paladin. I am a warrior in service of my goddess, and I protect the laws as well. I shall not entertain the thought of you raiding in these mountains." You say. "If you sought a husband as a custom, then I would suggest you simply ask in the future. Seeing your confusion… I shall repay the villagers on your behalf."
"Is being a Paladin how you got so strong?" Ignis asks.
"Indeed, my goddess grants me strength, though I of course have trained all my life." You reply with a faint smile.
Ignis goes silent for several moments, lost in thought once more. Then she gains a rather determined look on her face. "You are going to teach me how to be a Paladin."
"... Might I ask why?" you ask slowly, this conversation having quickly turned in a direction you weren't expecting.
"So I can get stronger." Ignis replies.
…
"No."
"Why not!?"
"For many reasons," you reply.
"Then I challenge you to a duel!"
"No."
"Why!?"
"For I wish to make dinner, would you like some?"
Ignis goes quiet again, then, she simply nods her head. Smiling, you look back towards the pass and whistle. A moment later, Fuyao's head appears around the rocks, her gaze almost immediately moves to stare at Ignis, her eyes widening. Then she looks at you. "That our dragon boss?"
"Not quite, as it turns out, but it is our cattle bandit nevertheless. I have also offered her dinner, would you mind getting our cooking equipment out?"
Fuyao's eyes flit back to Ignis once more, a hint of wariness to her gaze, then she nods. "On it boss, we taking her back with us?"
… A valid question, honestly. If she does indeed have no concept of currency, then turning her over to the farmers would do little. You could, of course, pay out of pocket, and would regardless to help them out. Waukeen herself knows you have more gold than you knew what to do with, but that wouldn't be a very good lesson either. So the question remained, what to do with her?
"Where are you from?" you ask, crouching so that you were eye to eye with the sulking woman.
Ignis stares at you, then shrugs her shoulders. "Around, was wandering around the woods when I saw one of those weird magic… things, next thing I knew I was here in these mountains."
"You were teleported? Fascinating. Then, if you do not mind, could you perhaps inform me of your species?"
Ignis grins. "Salamander!"
… A humanoid Salamander, how peculiar. But then, if she teleported, it could simply be another name for the species. But then, she was speaking common. "Well, you are going to need to apologize to the farmers for stealing their cattle."
"Why? They were weak."
"... That was not a request," you reply, staring Ignis in the eyes. "You will apologize."
Ignis meets your gaze, then blushes and looks away once more. "... 'Kay."
You smile again. "Wonderful. As for afterwards, you do not recall where you are from, at all?"
Ignis shakes her head. "Lived in the woods and mountains all my life, it was just a… place."
Right. So you'll need to find out where she was from to get her back there. Overlook was a city of smiths, there was little to find out there. You wished to get to the bottom of this, you did not sense she was lying in the slightest, she was battle-hungry to be sure, but she did not smell of evil either. So you wished to find out where she had been taken from, and return her there. You also wished to find out who had 'taken' her to begin with.
You had options on that front, at the very least.
—
View: https://i.imgur.com/pPAE5v7.png
[] [Candlekeep] The city of knowledge. All sorts of bestiaries lie there. Perhaps you could find an origin. Also rather bookish wizards… one can hope she doesn't set fire to anything particularly dangerous and ancient.
[] [Silverymoon] The city of magic. Perhaps you could get to the bottom of this 'teleportation' she was subjected to. It was also a city of spectacle and nature… one can only pray she doesn't set fire to the invisible bridge.
View: https://i.imgur.com/eJOvP9C.png [] [Waterdeep] City of sailors and merchants. Those in that city had traveled to shores even beyond your knowledge, they may know of her species. It was also a city of tricks and dirty plays… one might expect she may set some poor thief on fire.
---
[Candlekeep] The city of knowledge. All sorts of bestiaries lie there. Perhaps you could find an origin. Also rather bookish wizards… one can hope she doesn't set fire to anything particularly dangerous and ancient.
—
Fuyao's pack was much like a bag of holding, it seemingly held infinite possibilities and contained far more than it reasonably should be able to. Yet she always found a way to stuff more inside of it. You had never bothered looking into it, you consider yourself a brave man, as a Paladin you had to be, but you weren't quite ready to discern that particular secret. You had seen the non-euclidean city of Sigil, you had sailed the edge of the Far Realm and seen a place where time and the laws set forth by the gods didn't exist. You had plumbed the depths of the Underdark and scoured the ruins of the Netherese empire. But you had never ventured into her bag.
You truly believed that to do so was to invite madness that not even Cyric himself could cause.
And as she finishes setting out all the pans, utensils, and rations that would be enough to feed an entire mercenary band. You felt that Mad God wouldn't dare try, either. You then get her help to remove your plate, no longer needed for the day. Switching from the plate, fine make even as it was, to the simple tabard bearing the face of Sune was always a welcome relief. With a grunt Fuyao stuffs it into its carrying case, the box shrinking a moment later to become roughly the size of a handbag.
"Thank you, as always," you say to the squire.
Fuyao simply nods, busy sorting through her pack and shooting glances towards Ignis. Ignis for her part was staring at you, more specifically the symbol on the front of your tabard. You smile at her, then turn to the food. It's simple rations, easy enough to prepare, along with the variety of sweets and drinks that Fuyao had collected enmasse from the citizens of Overlook. That was the other mystery of her pack, no matter how much she used… it seemingly never got smaller either.
You begin preparing the rations when you feel a heat near your shoulder, and turning your head you find Ignis there, the woman, even at a crouch a good deal taller than you, her head tilted to the side as she looked at the food. "Where's… the meat?"
"We subsist on mainly breads," you reply. "They are far easier to keep long term. As a Paladin I rarely stay in one place for long."
Ignis tilts her head the other way, her tail scraping against the rocky ground behind her lazily side to side. "So you… travel then, looking for fights?"
You smile. "That is one way of looking at it I suppose, though I do attempt to avoid that. My role is to maintain the law and structure of the land. Right wrongs, help aid and assist. That does frequently lead to combat I suppose."
Fuyao sighs, then lays back against her pack. A benefit of it being roughly the same size she was was that she could use it as an impromptu bed. "Was hoping for a break Boss."
"My apologies Fuyao, but you know life rarely gives me one. In any case, the road to Candlekeep is peaceful, for the most part." You offer, putting as much sympathy into your voice as you could manage.
Fuyao, for her part, just rolls over on the pack so that her face is pressed into it.
"I am a hunter, a carnivore, I require meat." Ignis says after a moment, dragging back the conversation to its earlier topic.
You think for a second, recalling what you have in your own pack. "I have some salted pork, if you truly require it."
"Give it to me," Ignis says firmly.
You stare at her, saying nothing for several seconds as your eyes meet hers. "That is not how one makes a request."
Ignis continues matching your gaze, then her eyes dart to the side. "Give it to me… please?"
You set the rations aside, "one moment." Then make your way back down the path towards your horse, grabbing the pack attached to the side of it, you tuck it underneath one arm and return, fishing out a small waxed leather pouch from it as you enter the clearing again. With a flick of your wrist you toss it towards Ignis, the woman snatching it out of the air and… sniffing it much like a dog would.
"Smells… funny." Ignis says after a few more experimental sniffs.
You move past her to sit where you had set out the rations. "I assure you it is meat, however."
Ignis opens the bag carefully, and you watch her work. The armored… scales on her arms give way to what you would relate to a dragon's claw. Four large digits, complete with vicious looking curved nails on the end. They do not seem like they would much allow delicate work, but she undoes the knot holding the bag together without much in the way of apparent difficulty, then sticks a claw in to pierce and drag out a piece of the ham.
She stares at it a moment, studying it. Then bites off a large chunk of it. Finding it apparently satisfactory, she eats the other half of it, then makes steady work of consuming what was in the bag. You for your part cook up your own share of the rations, along with Fuyao's, and within the span of a few minutes, you are all eating in peaceful silence.
—
It was Ignis that spoke first once she had finished eating, she far outpaced both you and Fuyao in that regard. "So who's she?" she's pointing a claw towards Fuyao, the Kara-Turan blinks at the sudden attention, then returns to eating her bread.
"My loyal squire," you reply. "A more diligent woman you will hardly find."
"Is she your mate?" Ignis asks. Leaning more towards Fuyao.
Fuyao slowly removes the bread from her mouth. Then looks towards you, an impressively flat expression on her face. Fuyao didn't emote much at the best of times, now she may as well have been made of stone. "Am I?" she asks, her tone sounding more bored than anything.
"Not that I am aware of," you reply. "She is my second, I train her and she assists me in matters. Someday she may very well be a Paladin herself."
Ignis takes this information, processes it. Then nods. "Then I shall be your squire."
"Nope." Fuyao says bluntly. Then takes another bite of the bread. "My job."
"Then I shall fight you for it."
Fuyao eyes Ignis up and down. Then she shakes her head. "No. You'd lose."
"Is that a challenge?" Ignis asks, a smile coming onto her face. Warmth begins washing over you, and a glance shows that the flames on her tail have grown in intensity once again.
Fuyao takes another bite of her bread. "No, you wouldn't be."
"Then we sha-"
You place a hand in front of Ignis's face. "Alright, that's enough. There will be no more fighting today."
The flames die back down, and Ignis sits back down onto the rock, frowning.
"She's an interesting one Boss. Half dragon?"
You let out a hum. "I'm not sure, I've never run into anything like her species. I thought she may be from Avernus but… she is not evil. Not to my senses at the very least."
"What are you talking about? Avernus?" Ignis asks.
You wave your hand. "Nothing to worry about for the moment." As far as you were concerned, being unknowledgeable of the hells could only be a good thing, and you envied anyone who could live their lives in such a way. "Once we finish eating we have some farmers to visit. Do you have everything you own on you?"
Ignis looks herself over, then nods her head.
You smile. "Good. Then we shall be leaving shortly."
—
The halfling farmer was of the proud sort, the kind that had settled one of the many hills around Overlook. The kind that had dealt with the multitude of orc invasions, the undead uprising, the moon crack and the pull of the Shadowfell. You needed to be a certain sort to live this far inland away from the 'civilized' Swordcoast.
He was gawking regardless. His neck craned all the way back as he stared up at Ignis. "What bleedin' pit of Hell did this one crawl out of?"
Ignis is staring down at the man, her apology having been mumbled… but it was good enough.
"I am in the midst of discovering that myself, but for now I am afraid she has little in the way of money. How much did she take in regards to the value of the animals?"
The Halfling drags his eyes away from Ignis, slowly you note, and for far more reasons than just surprise you expect. "My two darling sheep? Forty gold." He says, the lie obvious.
You produce your pouch and offer him the money, a look of surprise flitting across his face briefly before he takes it. "I shall consider the debt settled then," you say. "I hope there isn't any other issues?"
"'Sides my little one wanting to grow up to be you instead of somethin' respectable?" the farmer asks. "Not particularly."
You smile and nod your head, then step away from his door and begin making your way down the path. Fuyao, then finally Ignis following after a few seconds later. Fuyao speaks, almost the second you are out of earshot. "... Why did you pay so much for the sheep? Four gold, tops."
"I hardly need the money to begin with," you reply, tying the pouch back to your side. "And it solves the matter with little fuss. I could have argued about it, but frankly, that is more effort than it is worth."
Fuyao snorts. "Whatever you say Boss. We good to get back on the road then?" she glances at the sky, it was just barely after noon, and there was nary a cloud in the sky. Distantly, far to the north off towards the desert there were signs of a storm brewing, but nothing that should impede your path west.
"Perhaps," you say after a moment. Then turn your head towards Ignis. "We shall be journeying roughly a week's time west to seek out your origin, would you be interested in traveling with us?"
Ignis stares at you. "Does… that mean we could fight again?"
"I suppose it does, yes." You reply. "Do you desire a rematch?"
Ignis says nothing, at least not at first. But the jump in the flames of her tail tells you her thoughts on the matter regardless. It seemed barbarians remained barbarians, whether they were from Icewind Dale or… part Salamander, you suppose. "Yep, I need to get stronger so I can beat you. Not like I have anywhere else to be regardless."
"Then I welcome you along to my travels," you say with a smile, then offer a hand forward to Ignis.
Ignis tilts her head, her eyes flitting from the hand to your face repeatedly. "Are.. you showing me your sword hand? I was going to follow you anyway."
You drop the hand, sadly unshook. "As in, you were going to follow me whether I asked?"
Ignis nods.
"To claim me as you stated?"
Ignis nods again, this time a fair bit more vigorously.
You smile. "Well, I would ask that you limit it to breakfast and dinner, as fighting on horseback is a rather messy affair, even for one trained in its nuances. If we make good time as I said, we should be there in a week or slightly more."
"She isn't riding on my horse Boss." Fuyao says, the squire already in the midst of packing everything onto her animal.
"Nor did I expect her to." You reply, and frankly, she was too large to easily fit behind you on yours. In… multiple respects.
You stretch out your arm, and you feel it. The gentle power of Sune herself washing over you, a tender embrace, warmth across your body. You shape it, will it as you need to. "Oh Lady Sune, I require a steed."
Then…
There is nothing.
You feel the power take hold, you feel it release and… nothing happened. You stare at the empty spot that the steed would normally appear at. You blink, then flip your hand around, staring at it.
Then you heard a feminine scream, coming from directly above you. Jerking your head up, you watch as through a golden portal not more than ten feet overhead, a black horse tumbles out of the sky. At least, at first you thought it was a horse, but where the head would normally be is the upper half of a woman, black silks covering that half of her body. White hair goes wild in the sudden breeze, red eyes are wide open with panic, and her arms and legs flail with abandon as she tumbles towards the ground.
On instinct you reach out your arms and catch her by the horse half. A grunt escaping you as you are forced slightly into a crouch before you right yourself. She was heavy to be certain, but far more than that was just the awkward weight distribution. The woman, having apparently recognized that she didn't hit the ground, looks at you, her face mere inches from her own. It is only then that you note the twin pair of horns jutting out from either side of her own. Each is jagged like a lightning bolt, and both are pointed straight up, going past her head by a half foot each.
Then she screams again, this time directly into your face before she wiggles herself free. Hooves hitting the ground, she bolts, the sound of hooves slamming into the dirt resounding as she moves to hide behind Ignis.
Ignis looks… almost eye to eye with the centaur. The centaur herself matches the gaze, then screams and bolts once more, this time hiding behind… your horse. The horse ears along the side of her head drooping as she slightly crouches to peer above the shoulders of your steed. Your steed, Majestic, both in name and manner, simply continues to eat the grass by the side of the road.
You raise your hands slowly, and speak gently. "I mean you no harm, are you alright?"
The centaur's eyes flit to you, then to Ignis… her eyes narrowing as she studies the Salamander. "Are you going to eat me?" she asks. Her voice is nowhere near as deep as Ignis's… and it also has an accent you would normally prescribe to those who live off the frozen shores of Neverwinter.
"We are not, no. Where exactly do you hail from?"
Her eyes narrow. "My home, I had just found a lovely stock of wild carrots when I was enveloped by a portal!"
… That should not be the case, the spell simply didn't do such a thing. Not kidnapping in any case. And yet… this was a sentient creature, and a quite irate one at that. "My apologies miss, it is my fault, I was summoning a steed for my traveling companion and was not expecting you to receive the summons. I will send you back."
The woman says nothing for several seconds, studying you. Then she stands up, idly straightening out the complicated silks that decorated her body. They started all the way up to the top of her neck, continuing down with a cutout around the breasts to reveal a small amount of flesh, before trailing down her back and to where a saddle would normally sit upon a regular steed. "Well," she says, idly moving one hand to cup her cheek, a hint of pink on her face showing through the pale flesh. "If you didn't mean to do it, that's fine… you said you… needed a steed?" The hint had turned into a full display now, her cheeks a vibrant pink.
"Indeed," you reply. "Normally when I use such magic a stallion or a griffon appears, and they are not taken unwillingly. I was not meaning to take you from what you were doing. We were starting to travel and I required a third steed."
You had met many a centaur in your time, well, perhaps not many, but certainly more than a few. But you had never met one with horns… a mystery, to be sure. And of course, that spell did not tend to summon intelligent creatures. "I would not force you to do this."
The centaur moves from around your horse, coming to a stop in front of you. Unlike Ignis, who smelled of ash and sweat. This one had a far more sweet scent to her, it was not one you could identify, but she, much like Ignis, was quite beautiful in any case. "Are those the steeds you had already?" the woman asks.
You nod your head. "Two horses for two riders."
The centaur nods. "My name is Brynhild, and… I would be happy to assist, but I would ask that you ride me."
Fuyao lets out a low whistle.
You ignore me. "Are you quite certain miss? I can simply send you back."
"That will not be necessary!" Brynhild says quickly. Too quickly apparently, as she bites her lip before shaking her head. "I… do not mind assisting."
"Then… I would have to move my saddle from my horse to you, is that alright?"
Brynhild nods, her tail flicking from side to side.
You move over to your horse, reaching for the saddle, then think. "Ignis, have you ever ridden a horse?"
"... Why the hell would I?"
You let out a breath, this would be uncomfortable. "Fuyao, please assist Ignis in mounting my horse."
Then, leaving the saddle in place, you turn around towards Brynhild once more. "I would not ask a new rider to ride without a saddle, so… if it is fine with you, would you be offended were I simply to mount you sans saddle?"
Brynhild grabs the hem of her silks, spreading them to either side as she lowers herself in some centaur version of a curtsy.
"Thank you Lady Brynhild," you say, smiling. Then making your way over you lift yourself up and onto her back.
Brynhild rises the moment you sit, affording you a view roughly equal to what you had before on Majestic. "It is quite alright, if I may ask sir… would you happen to be a knight?"
"A Paladin, actually." You reply.
Brynhild goes stock still, and she cranes her head around to look at you. "A… Paladin? You hunt monsters sir?"
"If necessary," you reply. "Why?"
Brynhild lets out a shuddering breath, her cheeks going pink once more. "Including… me?"
You frown. "I would hardly equate you to being a monster miss."
Brynhild searches your face for a moment, then… rather uncomfortably licks her lips. Turning her head back, she begins to trot towards the west, not walk you note, trot. She's putting on a deliberate show, it appears.
Well, at least she's not upset.
Looking back, you watch as Fuyao slowly guides Majestic along by the reins, Ingis for her part looking mightily uncomfortable on the back of your steed. A fascinating series of events all around… and a fascinating day.
But as Brynhild lets out another shuddering breath, you can't help but wonder if there was anything else… odd you were going to encounter on your way to Candlekeep.
—
Event/Character votes.
[] [A host of Kobolds trying to discern if Tiamat or the Egg came first] General event, who knows what may happen.
[] [Fuyao takes a challenge as your squire from Ignis] Fuyao and Ignis development.
[] [Brynhild attempts to steal Baeran] Brynhild development.
—
Relationship values.
Please note one number does not equal one event.
Ignis snorts. "I say you all just stop being pussies and just jump him."
Brynhild jerks back, her hooves knocking rocks aside as she does so. "We can't simply just jump him, it's not proper!"
Ignis looks down at the horse woman, a sneer on her lips. "Proper? What's not proper about it. Things like this are rarely fair, you think there's any honor involved with this? The only way we're gonna break through is with raw force."
"Boss probably would still manage to fend us off," Fuyao says, letting out a sigh as she bounces the ax in her lap with her knees. "Trust me, I've tried."
Brynhild tilts her head, turning her focus onto Fuyao as she does so. "Have you tried slipping a light poison into his food? That's a mainstay of many fairy tales."
"Oh hell no!" Ignis growls, interrupting before Fuyao can answer. "If we're going to do this he's got to be at full strength or it doesn't count."
Brynhild shudders. "I would not mind my knight being at full strength, but he is too stubborn otherwise."
Ignis rolls her eyes. "We just gotta do it hard and fast enough that he doesn't get a chance to fight back. There's three of us and only one of him."
"I've seen him evade a dozen at once… the nobles back in Silverymoon were too fond of him." Fuyao says, letting out a long, drawn out sigh as she does so.
"What, they good fighters?"
Both Brynhild and Fuyao look at Ignis.
"Ignis, dear. What do you believe we are talking about?" Brynhild asks slowly.
"The best way to defeat him. Duh." Ignis replies, slamming the hilt of her poleaxe into the ground as she does so.
"Are you talking about riding his dick or beating him in a fight?" Fuyao asks, staring up at the barbarian.
"There's a difference?" Ignis asks slowly. "Wait, you guys weren't talking about dueling him?"
Brynhild smiles, slowly, carefully, almost painfully. "Ignis, do I carry a weapon?"
Ignis's eyes dart down to the pristine hooves that Brylhild shined every morning.
"Ignis sweetie, if you are suggesting that I use my pristine hooves for battle you'll find out what it feels like when they are kicked where the sun doesn't shine~" Brynhild says, smiling sweetly.
"Sure, regardless, my plan for you was to serve as the bait. Pretend you got injured or something then we'd get him from behind."
Fuyao shakes her head. "A group of Drow tried something similar a few years back, he ended up converting them all to Eilistraee. Think they started a peace and love commune actually."
"The fucks a Drow?" Ignis asks.
"Dark elves, they live underground."
"Oh my, he fought off dark elves? They are some of the fiercest there are when it comes to getting people." Brynhild asks.
Fuyao droops her head. "Didn't even do that, he just started talking to them and they listened, so no, that plan won't work. You got any other ideas?"
"Dark elves aren't anything to compare to. They use whips and shit instead of proper weapons, I bet if we try it'll work." Ignis says, grinning proudly.
[Fuyao takes a challenge as your squire from Ignis]
—
You were sufficiently padded to prevent any form of pain that would arise from riding without a saddle. That, and years of riding in general had made you rather numb to the kinds of pain that horse-riding in general tended to cause in a man. Indeed, it was not physical pain you were feeling, instead the rather emotional oddities that arises in a man as he rides a woman, quite literally, off into the distance. Brynhild was lovely of course, both in manner and in looks, and from her dress to the faint sweet fragrant that wafted off of her, you could rather easily tell she took as much care of herself as did some of the nobler ladies in Waterdeep and Neverwinter.
But of course, despite what some… rumors about you might say, you had never used one as a mount. Or vice versa you should mention, besides the odd carrying them out of danger while being chased by the occasional dragon or drow, or duergar, or the demogorgon, or- actually, now that you stopped and thought about it. A lot of the truly horrifying things in the realms tended to start with the letter D.
There were some in front of you as well, you had been attempting to be gentlemanly and not pay particular attention to them as Brynhild trotted along. Her conversation at least, once she bothered speaking again, did wonderful work to distract you regardless. "So tell me more about yourself sir, you mentioned yourself as a Paladin? I suspect yours and mine definition is perhaps different."
That was something else you had noticed, her tone had changed rather quickly. Not in terms of attitude, that had remained the same ever since she got over being terrified by her sudden arrival in your midst. No, she had put on a bit of an upper-class accent, at least, you presume that was what it was past her accent. And her diction had gotten a fair bit more… flowery.
A crunch sounded behind you, and you glanced back to see Fuyao slowly eating a raw potato. How she managed such a task you had long since given up questioning. Or thinking particularly much about, as the manner her stomach worked was only known to Cyric, God of Madness that he was. Ignis meanwhile, was staring straight at you, apparently listening intently as the question of what a Paladin truly was came into the open air of discussion.
It had been barely more than an hour since you had started traveling, and you blamed the general awkwardness for the lack of discussion. Despite the furtive glances Brynhild had been shooting you repeatedly, she had been surprisingly mute. And, after dealing with Ignis for a fair bit now, you had welcomed the silence that you tended to prefer when traveling. "I protect the stability of the land by upholding the law and protecting the people within. I seek stability so that the citizenry can live in peace."
"So you're a knight then sir?" Brynhild asks.
"Of a sort, yes." You reply. "Though I do not belong to any nobility myself. Something I am quite thankful for, such a thing tends to be stifling and I enjoy traveling and aiding people afar." You smile at the centauress, "I was taken in by a temple that raised me from a young age, and I have sought to repay their kindness via righting the wrongs of the land, aiding people, and working tirelessly to keep things stable."
You frown for a split second, wondering if perhaps 'stable' was the wrong word to be using around Brynhild, but your worries are cut short by Fuyao grunting behind you, mouth partially full of potato. "Yes, tirelessly, very tireless. As in, his darling Squire never gets to sleep tireless."
"What a splendid cathedral that must have been." Brynhild says wistfully, a hand rising to rest against her face as she closes her eyes.
"It was a brothel actually, such a thing is not uncommon for Sune."
Brynhild blinks, tilting her head ever so slightly as she studies you. "It was… one of the succubus run temples?"
The smile drops from your face immediately, then, thinking about it, you laugh, your humor returning as you think about such a concept. "No… no, I assure you no. The women who worship Sune can be quite lascivious, and, indeed, sex is a large part of the belief for some temples. But they were no Succubi. Indeed, I could not imagine a Succubi running anything, even the rarer lawful varieties of such a monster. Nay, Succubi are beings of chaos."
Ignis speaks up, her voice sounding a touch confused. "They're certainly obnoxious tarts, but not exactly what I would call chaotic, that's more…oni and ogres. "
You turn your head to look at Ignis. "My apologies, but I would ask where you come from that you've run into Succubi more than once? They do venture out of Avernus, but to find one not already in the midst of some plot is thankfully rare."
Ignis shrugs her shoulders, the Salamander looking bored once more now that the conversation had moved on. "Saw a few walking through my woods with their husbands."
Hus…band. You mouth the word slowly. Tasting it, parsing it. "Succubi do not take husbands, their touch is lethal to mortals anywhere but a dream. Perhaps one could be in the harem of an archdevil, but certainly they are not the type for matrimony."
Brynhild jerks, and you look back at her to find her staring at you with an utterly aghast expression. "Succubi are certainly annoying sir, filled with pheromones to be certain that steal away men before a good woman can get their hands on them. But they aren't by any means lethal. Annoying, yes, they are always… flaunting things. But not lethal."
"You are… familiar with the creatures of The Nine Hells as well?"
Bryhild frowns. "I am not familiar with… er… Hells. But I wouldn't describe Succubi as creatures either, they are as sentient as I am. Even if they do tend to mock m-, not pay me proper respect."
She said something odd there near the end, but you aren't focused on it enough to care. That… are you dealing with people from another plane? That would explain some of the oddities. You had visited Sigil, but that was only once, and briefly at that. You had never spent time around the Spelljammers and the weird worlds they visited. One way to find out you suppose, "what is the name of the planet in your culture?"
Brynhild's frown drops. "The… disc? In my culture we just call it after its shape, some other cultures have a name for it. But not in my home of Triken. The disc rides upon the shoulders of the great turtle woman. Of course, whether she is a kappa or another type is… frequently a cause of debates."
"And wars." Ignis snorts.
You look back at the Salamander. "And do you have a name for… this disc?"
"Nope." Ignis replies. "I just owned the woods."
Fuyao lets out a snort, and you look at her in time to see your squire rolling her eyes.
"You got something to say runt?" Ignis growls.
"Not to you." Fuyao replies, taking another bite out of the potato before staring at Ignis. She wasn't glaring, indeed, your squire had the same bored expression she was frequently seen wearing.
But nevertheless, it seemed to anger Ignis a great deal. "I do not battle with words, if you want to fight me, use your weapon."
Fuyao stares at Ignis, then at her potato, then at you. She says nothing, but the question was obvious enough.
… You had wished to make more progress. You had only just started approaching the forests that sat west of Overlook, your pace having been hindered by the apologies you had to dole out, the circumstances of Brynhild, and the fact that Ignis did not know how to ride a horse with any particularly agility.
But you also had the sneaking suspicion that if you didn't allow this to happen, the two of them would continue sniping each other until the 'duel' was instead replaced with a 'brawl'. Why exactly Fuyao didn't like the woman, you weren't sure. She had been more outwardly hostile with her, as much as Fuyao could be outwardly anything, more than with anyone else you had ever seen.
But you were going to try and ease the lid of the pot, as it were. "You are a squire Fuyao, you have to protect your honor as much as I do. If you have cast insult upon Ignis, it is your duty to see it through."
Fuyao lets out a sigh, then, swinging her legs over the side of her horse, slides off of it. She grabs the reins as she does, bringing it to a stop. Ignis leaps off of hers as well, showing none of the same grace, and for a moment you worry briefly about Majestic, before the horse, showcasing its usual priorities, immediately wanders off to the side of the road to begin eating grass.
Brynhild comes to a stop, and you slide off of her to land onto the rough dirt road, your hand resting on the hilt of your sword. Fuyao draws her ax, it's a Kara-Turan design through and through, far wider than most you would find in Faerun, with a fat head to it more akin to a shovel than that of something used to felling trees or foes. Ignis, meanwhile, produces her poleaxe, the fact that they had at least fundamentally similar weapons was not lost on you.
Though you couldn't help but note that despite the poleaxe being a versatile weapon, Ignis seemed to treat it like an ax stuck upon the end of a spear, versus using the other implements on the weapon itself. You wonder if perhaps it was a weapon she hadn't received training in, or, perhaps like many adventurers, she had simply grabbed it long ago because she enjoyed the look of it, without questioning the practicalities of such a weapon.
More than one adventurer had been lost wandering into a tight dungeon with a two-hander, after all.
Both fighters stand apart from each other, ten paces. Fuyao ready, ax held in both hands, staring down her opponent, while Ignis has the butt of hers planted in the dirt, glaring down at your young squire.
"First blood. Begin." You order.
When you fought Ignis, it hadn't been a close, or, to be honest, an interesting thing. She had brute force, but then, so did ogres, and you had no problem besting them either. She had little in the way of finesse, little in the way of honing. It had become more a challenge to prevent her from hurting herself once you realized she wasn't the quarry you had been led to believe. Fuyao had skill, but she was your squire for a reason, and as the battle begun, it showed.
Ignis's poleaxe swings out like a club, her arms at full extension as she carves the weapon through the air to hit Fuyao. Fuyao raises her ax in a desperate, hurried parry. And you watch as the poleaxe hits her weapon… then, Fuyao's strength almost immediately falters. Her arms buckle, and she rides the hit, allowing it to carry her aside briefly before she slides away from it, the poleaxe continuing on its journey, narrowly missing her head by inches.
Fuyao then lunges forward, attempting to close the distance between them, Ignis brings the ax around, preparing to swing it downwards, before, to her shock, she discovers that Fuyao was hiding a ranged weapon. Fuyao's right hand shoots forward, casting a partially crushed potato directly into Ignis's face.
Ignis stumbles back, more from shock than force, and her flaming tail whips around. Churning up earth and setting grass ablaze, and likely saving major injury. Forcing Fuyao to halt her approach. Giving Ignis ample time to wipe the potato remains away from her face, teeth bared, eyes alight with anger.
Fuyao simply smirks.
"Sir, if I may ask." Brynhild begins, drawing your attention away from the sound of clanging metal. "How did you meet Fuyao? You stated she was your squire?"
"She is indeed, I met her along the trading roads heading into these lands. She was part of a caravan that had been harassed by the giants that live in the mountain regions that separate our two lands. I came to their aid, helped them across, and she then pledged herself to my service. That was around five years ago now." You say, smiling as you recall it.
Ignis lets out a shout as Fuya's ax narrowly misses her skull. The Kara-Turan having thrown it at her head. Fuyao recovers quickly from the miss, withdrawing two thin pointed daggers from her shoes and charging forward with them.
"Oh my, how romantic." Brynhild says wistfully.
You glance over at her, and find, to your surprise, that a fierce blush had crept over Brynhild's pale features. A hand rested on her cheek, and a slightly… dopey smile was on her face. "For a gallant knight to come to the aid of another, it is only right to pledge yourself in eternal service, fighting the same battles together and forging a legend fit for song."
For Fuyao it was more a manner of honor, but you were not going to correct Brynhild. Turning your attention back to the fight, where Ignis's tail slaps against Fuyao's scalemail, sending your squire tumbling end over end onto the ground.
"Hah! I knew you were nothing." Ignis says, slamming the pommel end of her weapon into the dirt.
"You have lost, actually." You say, then raise a finger to tap a finger against your cheek.
Ignis stares at you, confused for a moment, then raises a hand to wipe at her cheek, pulling it away to reveal blood from the thin cut there. Her mouth falls open a bit, confusion now writ large across her features. "... When?"
"She put a rock in the potato when she was dodging along the ground," you say. "The fight was over from her first move, Fuyao tends to not fight exactly fair."
Fuyao was also still laying on the ground, you note. You'll likely have to check up on her momentarily.
"Then why did you allow it to continue?" Brynhild asks.
"Learning opportunity, practice is always important." You reply, then, making your way over, you lightly brush your hand against Ignis's cheek, the wound closing itself at your touch.
The Salamander's eyes dart to your hand, then she looks away, her already tanned cheeks darkening at your touch. Lowering your hand a moment later, you turn your attention towards your squire currently planted onto the ground face first. "Fuyao, you okay?"
Your squire says nothing, instead she merely raises a solitary finger.
"Is… that a sign she is injured? I don't understand." Brynhild says, trotting over.
"She's fine." You reply. "And she is currently acting very un-squirelike.
Fuyao drops her hand, then lets out a groan. "Could use some healing boss."
"My apologies for stopping here, I had fully expected to be someplace more civilized, but we were delayed." You say, gripping the reins of your horse as you turn around to look at the group.
"I want to be at this book palace already," Ignis grunts.
"My apologies, but I sold my airship some time back, I don't particularly enjoy the experience of flying. That, and I find it takes away from the joy of travel to just allow the lands to pass beneath you."
Brynhild speaks up. "Will be stopping at an inn for the night then?"
You smile over at the centauress. "There is no nee-"
"Need a bed princess?" Ignis grunts. "There's nothing wrong with sleeping in the woods from time to time."
You clear your throat. "There is no need."
Brynhild stares at you. "I'm afraid I don't quite fit in your average tent sir."
Reaching to your side, you open one of the many small pouches placed around your person. Fiddling inside of it a moment, you produce the midnight-black scroll you had been searching for. Snapping it open, the silver text printed upon it glows faintly in the evening light. One of many gifts you had received from Mystra, Goddess of Magic, for saving her life a few years back. "I require lodging," you say aloud.
Then, the night turns just a bit brighter as a shimmering portal opens in the air just in front of you. Smiling, you close the scroll again, then look at Ignis and Brynhild as Fuyao walks through the portal without a world. "Don't be frightened. You are permitted to enter."
Then you step through, taking in the sight of your home away from home… well, home away from your many homes. The mansion was as splendiferous as it always was, white marble walls held up by glinting blue columns, each carefully decorated by magic rune work. It was 'only' two stories, but you found it had enough space for anything you had ever needed, and the material cost alone if it was real… would likely have been enough to buy the city of Baldur's Gate itself, Mystra never spared effort. That included the crystal statue of herself parked near the entrance.
You never dared ask her why it was a nude, though you felt you knew already.
"What the…" Ignis's voice speaks up behind you.
"Fuck!?" Brynhild finishes.
You jerk your head back, finding the centauress has clapped a hand over her mouth. You smile, you suppose it did have that effect on people. "Come along," you say, walking around the statue and towards the main entrance the statue guarded.
Pushing open the doors Fuyao just went through, you enter the grand lobby, which at the moment was also serving as the dining area. Long tables line the room, filled to the brim with all manners of food and drink. Each chair staffed by its own invisible servant.
"I… thought you said you weren't nobility?" Brynhild says, her voice full of wonder.
"I'm not, I had to work for this," you reply. "Feel free to eat and drink, the servants will guide you to your rooms if you ask. There will be ample space for each of you." You turn on the spot to smile at both of them in turn. "Please let me know if something isn't to your satisfaction of course, I will not be joining you for dinner, I have my evening prayers to attend to, alongside some personal matters."
Brynhild, you could tell, was hardly paying attention to what you were saying. Her eyes moved from spot to spot as she took in the magic around her. Ignis, meanwhile, was absolutely not paying attention at all. As she decided to look at the gift being presented, and had immediately moved to a chair where she had begun to devour a rather lovely looking turkey.
Bowing slightly, you depart the room, nodding to Fuyao as you go. The squire is currently in the midst of doffing her armor to hand it to a servant. Making your way down the hall, you enter a room at the far end of it, the door undecorated beside a lick of flame painted just near the lock. Opening it, you enter your relatively plain space. You had been staying in the mansion now for years, not every night mind, but plenty. And it was one of the few places you could say that truly belonged to you.
To that end it was decorated, however lightly. The symbol of Sune decorated the space about the mirror taking up nearly the entire far wall. You were not a particularly vain person, but the mirror was there when you arrived, and it was useful. The one over the bed wasn't, but you had at least gotten good angle views to see when you were cleaning your armor. Trophies littered the place, stuffed heads, feathers, scrolls and banners. Gifts people had given you, or things you had made yourself. Each carefully kept and maintained, but beyond that and a simple bed you had little in the way of luxury.
It wasn't against your church, nor was it out of distaste on your part. But it was simply something you had never desired. Wealth only slowed you down, and while you had plenty of it, there was precious little reason to show it off within the confines of your own sleeping space. Reaching down to your sides, you pull off the gambeson you were wearing, along with the tunic underneath it. A sigh escapes you as your bare flesh meets the cool air of the room, then, making away across the room towards a small pillow set near the windows. You light a brazier, a sweet sunflower scent filling the air before you close your eyes and pray.
—
It was a half hour later when there was a knock on your door, and you opened your eyes slowly. "It's open."
The door opens with a creak, and you arise and turn around. Fuyao stood there, her eyes on your chest a moment before she locked gazes. She had changed into her casual wear. Which for her meant a simple tunic and pants. Both aged and worn with small tears and marks across the material. You had asked her about replacing them more than once, but she had refused every time.
With a click the door closes behind her, and Fuyao draws in a breath before she leans against it. "You sure about this boss? I think they're Spelljammers."
Spelljammers, those… odd individuals that used magic to traverse space itself on ships you couldn't quite wrap your head around. You had thought about it earlier in the day, and at this point you found that unlikely. "From another plane or planet? Possibly. But I doubt they are spelljammers, recall that I summoned Brynhild, and I doubt Ignis could captain a ship."
Fuyao's lip curls up for a moment before she arrests control of her expressions again. "Well they aren't from here."
"That much I had figured out already. I do not know by what magic Ignis was brought to Faerun, and my spell should have been nowhere near powerful enough to summon Brynhild. At least, if she is from the same realm Ignis belongs to… though they seem to recognize each other's species." You lean against the bedpost nearby, idly fiddling with the belt around your waist. "I blame myself for Brynhild in any case, and if anyone would know about either of them, it would be the sages at Candlekeep… Or the God of Knowledge I suppose. But I believe he's still mad at me regarding that fire.
"Oghma should use his infinite wisdom to know you didn't summon the Cloud Giant that invaded his library." Fuyao grunts.
"It is what it is," you reply. "But for the moment, unless something else come sup, we'll take care of them at least until we reach Candlekeep."
Fuyao sighs, closing her eyes. "I was hoping we would finally have some downtime."
You smile. "You are welcome to stay in the mansion as long as you wish Miss Ling."
Fuyao shakes her head, opening her eyes again. "We have a job to do, try and eat and get some sleep."
You smile a touch wider. "I will Fuyao, have a nice night."
Fuyao smiles back, a rare thing. Then, opening the door again, she slips outside.
You make your way over to the dresser and pull out something more proper to eat in, and had just about finished changing when there was another knock on your door. You turn to look at it, somewhat surprised yet… not, to have a visitor. "It's unlocked."
The door doesn't open, that doesn't particularly surprise you. You could hear almost everything going on in the mansion after all, from the distant, rhythmic steps of Brynhild moving around, to the defined thuds of Ignis's heavy footsteps. Whomever was at your door hadn't walked to it, they had appeared at it, and there was only one person who could do that in all the realms.
At least, only one person that could do it and had a reason to talk to you.
… At least, only one person that could do it, had a reason to talk to you, and would bother to do so without immediately attempting to kill you instead. One did not adventure as long as you had without making enemies. And one did not adventure as long as you had while still being capable of surprise either. Such that, when the soft arms wrapped themselves around your upper chest in a gentle embrace, you didn't so much as twitch.
"Good evening, Baeran."
Her voice was midnight velvet, akin to that of a hand running over sheets. A whisper of a sound you had to focus to hear, but you could feel. It was a voice familiar to you, both in timbre and… quality. Of course, the voice was just that of a human woman from the Dalelands. But the power behind it, the might that caused your nerves to tingle as she ran her hands across your chest. That did not belong to any human.
"Good evening, Mystra." You say, smiling slightly. "You could have used the door."
"You are in my realm, I don't need to use any door."
You smile a touch wider, allowing the point. Yet. "It is a matter of politeness, nothing further." Then reaching a hand up, you tap the hands caressing you, causing them to pull away before you turn around to reveal Mystra in… most of her glory. She was wearing a black silk dress, that in itself wasn't unusual for her, what was rather new and unique was that it appeared to have the thickness of a cloud and was held on by nothing but the hopes and dreams of aspiring wizards and sorcerers. Her blue eyes swirled, power dancing within them and causing them to faintly glow with an ebbing pulse in the dark room that illuminated her shoulder length black hair, near the same color as her dress in fact. "And whatever is wrong with the realms that brings you around?"
Mystra smiles, "I can't just come say hello to one of my favorite mortals?"
"You, along with most deities that deign to visit mortals, generally don't," you reply. Mystra, the Lady of Mystery, Our Lady of Magic. Or simply, Mystra, goddess of Magic. Was an interesting sort. More… free willed than most gods you had dealt with, and one that had taken a particular interest in you after you saved her life. "So I must presume you are here due to my new companions."
Mystra leans close, her lips a hair's breadth from your own before she moves her head to the side, her breath tickling your pointed ears as she speaks. "Not happy to see me?"
You catch the hand moving towards your crotch, and Mystra leans back, a black eyebrow raised. "I am always happy to see you Mystra, just the timing marks this occasion as suspect. If you wished to speak to me you could have just as easily in any of the past weeks. The mansion is as lovely as always, as are you."
Mystra smirks. "And how am I lovely?"
"Were I only capable of describing such a thing. But to do so would be like to ask a poet to describe a sunset in a mere hundred words, or a philosopher to explain simply the purpose of existence. Such things are not done, least of all lightly. So I shall succinctly state you are as beautiful as you have ever been, and I noticed your new perfume." You appreciate beauty in all of its forms, and beauty was more than mere appearance. Mystra was beautiful, but you would rather her get to the point of this visit instead of laying on flattery.
Such a thing was not something you particularly enjoyed in any case, unless the person truly needed the confidence boost. Mystra, however, was Mystra. And she, like the many spellcasters who prayed to her, had more confidence than was measurable or safe.
Mystra takes another step back, then spins on the spot, the silken dress clinging to her in ways that make it abundantly clear what she was wearing underneath it. Placing a hand against one hand, she raises the other then waves it left to right like a schoolmarm clearing a chalkboard. At once, the windows… and wall that was on that side of the room fades away into little more than motes of dancing magic.
Replacing it was everything else, the world, quite literally. An infinite starfield stretched out to the edges of Realmspace in every direction, momentarily transfixing your attention before you arrested it back to the blue orb slowly spinning so close you could swear you could touch it, yet so far it may as well be a million leagues away. The world of Toril hung there in space, a scant few feet away, and you stood in silence, admiring the illusion without a word.
Then, twisting her fingers, Mystra spun the planet, splaying them a moment later to bring it to a stop. Front and center was the landmass of Faerun, while to the east you could see the massive mountains that bordered Kara-Tur. To the south, Zakhara and just barely poking out around the edge of the globe to the west, Maztica. Then beams of light erupted all over it. Tabot, Turmish, Amn and Unther. Halruaa, Chult, Calimshan and Thay. Every major region just about had one beam or more… including Candlekeep.
"The Weave, the source of all magic, has been in chaos." Mystra explains. "Magical creatures of unknown species have been appearing all over through magical portals. Some feminine, like those in your company, others distinctly not, corrupted and vile, more beasts fit for the Hells and Planes than anything else. I was curious as to your experience with your two new creatures."
Mystra then turns around, the starlight illuminating her from behind. The smile was gone, replaced by a far more… annoyed expression.
"I would hardly describe them as creatures. They are certainly different from most I have met, especially the self-described 'Salamander'. But I have sensed no evil, and there are few beings in these realms who can hide their nature from me." You smile at the goddess, recalling your battle with Ignis, and the… multiple rather interesting conversations you had had with Brynhild so far. Those of which almost entirely involved her questioning you regarding your marital status and your adventures. "They are certainly monstrous in nature, that I will not deny. However I believe they mean no harm. We were on our way to Candlekeep to see if we could uncover anything there."
"And would you like to simply be there?" Mystra asks, with the same tone as one uses to ask if they should open a window to let in fresh air.
"That would be appreciated, thank you."
Mystra's smile returns, then it becomes a grin as she steps up to you. "Then it will be done. I would ask you to continue looking into this, but I feel that will not be necessary."
"I won't be, no." You reply. Then allow her to press a hand against your chest and push you back against the bed. You bounce against the mattress, then suddenly find a goddess leaning over you, the dress gone revealing pale breasts.
"Are you ready to finally submit to my charms?" Mystra asks, leaning down, her breasts pressing against your chest. Her lips close the distance towards your own, and… you place a single finger against them.
"I will, only if you are serious."
"I am serious," Mystra replies.
You smile up at her, she was beautiful, and yet… "By serious I mean alone, Midnight. You are a good friend, and you are beautiful, but such a thing I wish to save for someone who truly wants me and me alone. And unless you are willing to give up Elminster and Gale…"
Mystra frowns. "I am a god."
"And I am a mortal, we have our traditions. I'm afraid I remain immune to your charms."
Mystra rolls her eyes, then sits up on the bed, uncaring and unashamed of her nakedness. But then, it would be rather odd if she suddenly was. "Then at least entertain me."
You let out a breath, staring up at the ceiling. "Want to hear a story about a dragon?"
"Do wizards have a fondness for fireballs?"
—
You were surprised to find yourself having company quickly as you sat down for breakfast, having skipped dinner entirely due to your long evening conversation with Mystra. You had wished to eat dinner, you had wished to finish your prayers, you had wished to… sleep. But when the goddess of magic states she wants a story, one would be ill-advised to refuse her. Lest they wind up across continents due to the whims of a still-young goddess.
This is why at five in the morning you sat at the table at the entrance, your first time now in over a week. Idly eating at a plate of eggs the invisible servants had prepared. It was… good, of course, but after well over a decade eating the food prepared by the mansion… you had learned how it all tasted, back when you could at least. The ingredients of course were exquisite, the food cooked to perfection. After all, how couldn't it be? But with it being the same magical ingredients, the same magical cooking, the same preparation.
It tended to become rather obnoxiously familiar. Hence why, much to Fuyao's annoyance, you tended to avoid using the mansion whenever possible, consisting instead on what you hunted or caught or bartered for. The quality was, as a general rule, far less. You were comparing the feast of a king to that of a common merchant or tradesman. But there was soul to it, and variation.
You suppose your average person would consider that the thoughts of a madman, or one who didn't know how good they had it. You were not the first and you knew damn well how blessed your life as a whole was. But you could admit at least some boredom without damning yourself, at least, you hoped.
Your breakfast thoughts however, were interrupted by thudding feet and a yawn, and you turned your head to see Ignis making her wall into the room, one hand idly scratching at her stomach. Her armor was gone, instead replaced by a tan tunic provided by the mansion… to the best of its efforts. It was slightly too small for her, having apparently tried to fit someone of a Goliath's height without accounting for the rather unnatural shape of the woman herself. It rose on her stomach, revealing lightly scarred but heavily toned skin, and, as she walked past. You could see she had deliberately ripped open the top of the trouser pants so that her tail could stick out of it far easier. The flaming tail dragging on the floor behind her as she marched past you.
With all the grace of a Gnoll she yanks one of the chairs back and plops herself down onto it, the wood creaking for a moment before accepting its fate. A moment later, a plate is set in front of her, stacked high with various meats and cheeses. She stares at it, then looks over towards you with decently bagged eyes.
"Didn't sleep well?" you ask.
"Could say that," Ignis replies, more a grunt than a sentence. "Bed was too soft, floor was too cold. By the time I fell asleep it was two hours until I normally wake up for practice."
"My apologies, when do you normally wake?"
Ignis blinks slowly. "Dunno, I just do. Been waking up early now for years."
You smile. "As do I, for much the same reason. Would you like to join me for morning practice at some point?"
"A wife is meant to spar with her husband." Ignis replies. "So yeah."
Your smile drops. "And I wasn't aware we were married."
"You beat me in a fight, that means you've claimed me."
"And yet I've signed no contract or made a vow before a deity. I've fought many things, only a sparse few have claimed we were then betrothed, and I have gone along with none of them I'm afraid."
Ignis glares at you, a truly withering thing. Truly. Then she turns her attention to the plate of food in front of her.
—
It was another half hour before, to your surprise, the sound of hoofbeats filled the halls. You turned your attention towards Brynhild entering the foyer, her hands clasped in front of her, the woman was practically glowing. Her horse hair, previously slightly matted and ruffled from her fall and your ride was pristine, not a knot in sight. To say nothing of her skin, practically glinting as the light caught her face. It seemed she at least found the bath, going by the scent.
She stops as she catches sight of you, smiles, then kneels down onto her two forelegs, her hand lifting up the edge of her silks in some Centaur version of a curtsy. "Good morning Sir, I thank you for the delightful bath, I haven't had the chance to bathe now in several we-." She blinks. "I haven't had a chance at a bath that lovely in weeks."
"Quite welcome," you reply. "Please, sit and eat."
Brynhild raises herself, then trots over to stand just next to you at the table. With a clink a plate full of vegetables is set down in front of her, and you don't miss the faint bit of drool that appears at the corner of her lip before she wipes it away. She reaches down eagerly, grabbing a carrot off the plate before, with a pause, sets it back down and starts cutting it with a fork and knife. "What are we doing today Sir?"
You open your mouth to respond, but a yawn cuts you off. The two of you look back to see Fuyao entering the room, one hand covering her mouth before she drops it. She was in her 'casual' attire, which for Fuyao basically meant Kara-Turan farmclothes, a hemp shirt and pants with precisely no decoration. You had offered to get her something nicer more then once, she had told you to go fuck yourself. It was an interesting relationship the two of you had.
She lowers her head and smacks her lips together. "We ready to go boss? Saw where we were when I checked the road this morning."
You nod your head. "Indeed, don't worry about your weapons and armor."
Fuyao snorts. "Wasn't planning on it, they get all uppity when I do. I just hope nothing stupid happens."
You smile. "It's Candlekeep, the town hasn't been particularly noteworthy since the time of the Bhaalspawn."
"I'm… sorry, what's going on?" Brynhild asks, drawing your attention back to her.
"Oh, I spoke with the goddess of magic last night and she was kind enough to teleport us to our destination."
Ignis grunts. "Bull-"
—
"... Shit." Ignis says, staring up at the castle in front of you.
"Oh… my…" Brynhild whispers, her gaze transfixed. You smile, you suppose it was quite a sight to see.
Built on the edge of a cliff, and almost every building either a wall of a tower, such that the profile bore some resemblance to a birthday cake, laden with the many wax tributes to a very long life. Candlekeep was as impressive as it always was. The center of knowledge and magic in Faerun, it was a place you had visited multiple times in the past, but in truth… it rarely held interest to you. You had far more luck simply searching the world to find your information than to investigate tomes. They required some form of knowledge to enter, a scroll or a tome, that was something you had plenty of, even if you doubt you would find anything too concrete here.
But it was a start, at the very least.
Of course, you had no idea that-
—
[] [They had an Oomukade infestation in the upper towers]
[] [A merchant was attempting to sell a Jinn to enter]
[] [The Gargoyles had come alive]
[] [There was an ongoing mental fistfight between a Hakutaku and one of the Sages]
Various cultures around Toril placed heavy importance onto dreams. They believed them to be portents of the future, or methods for the gods to talk to mortals directly. You could say, at least, for the second half of that belief, that it was demonstrably true in your case. Your original call to adventure had, indeed, been a dream when you were still considered a young man. Sune calling you out to help save the world, and when you awoke, a fresh rose had been placed upon your chest.
That had been enough for you to purchase a set of armor and set off on your first adventure, and since, you had never truly looked back. Since then, your dreams have been a place of respite or portent. You never truly had dim, terrible dreams, and when you woke you hardly remembered them. Perhaps it was simple luck, or perhaps it was simply…
"I know you're there." You say firmly.
The dream was pleasant enough, a lovely beach looking over a gorgeous ocean. In a world seemingly stuck in Toril's most perfect sunset. It reminded you of some islands you had visited on the Sea of Fallen stars. But then, those weren't near as tropical as this one was.
You were also naked, that was relatively unusual. A crunch in the sand behind you caused you to look back, it was lady Sune. Naked as a newborn babe, her red hair swaying in the wind behind her. She was beautiful of course, but beauty was hardly a fit description. But you had never had such a gift of words that you could describe such a perfect being that was Lady Sune.
She comes up to stand just beside you, and places a hand on her hip before smiling a brilliant, flawless smile. "Good evening my Paladin."
You smile back, "good evening stranger."
'Sune' blinks, the smile on her face fading. Then, valiantly, like a drunken brawler returning to the fight it returns. "Stranger? Do not tell me you have forgotten the visage of your goddess Baeran."
"No, but it seems she is new to you." You reach a hand up and pat the spot just above her pelvis. "My Lady Firehair I'm afraid tends to not remove any, well, hair."
Then you snatch her wrist and tug.
—
You awoke to the sound of crying a moment later. Well, to be more accurate, there was a shriek, then a cry, and now there was an odd, but weak pulling sensation. You open your eyes to see… a figure sitting on your bed just beside your body. It was a horse, a purple horse, a purple horse with a female half like Bryndhild, but she was certainly a fair bit more… fluffy. Her hair was far less kept then Brynhild's out of order and out of sorts, matted with dirt and other such things. Her clothing for the most part wasn't much better, a black robe that stopped just below her stomach, torn and frayed at the edges along with a hood that shadowed a now panicked face framed by white, almost cream-colored hair.
At the moment she had a hand placed on your arm, trying to extricate your wrist from your grip. Her effort was made difficult by both your strength, and by the fact that the bed was sagging to one side due to the fact that a horse was laying atop it, causing her to be at a rather awkward angle.
… Another one. "Cease." You command, it's a simple word, one syllable, and you don't use magic.
But the iron in the tone causes her to stop regardless, her pale face paling further as she looks up at you.
"Now then, who are you, and why are you here?"
"I-I-I'm Morrigan… I was… uhm, I was here to… to… visit your dreams and uhm… extract… your… vitality."
You stare at her, your groggy brain catching up slowly. Pulling her forward, you press your face against her head, ignoring the squeal that escapes the woman as you do so. She smelled of dirt and grime and… old soap, but nothing further.
Nodding, you pull back a moment later to look at the now cherry-red creature sitting on your bed. "I take it that's a food source for you?"
Morrigan nods timidly.
"Does regular food suffice for the purpose?"
Morrigan blinks, staring at me for several moments before nodding once more. "Y-yes… It's… not as effective… but I er… can eat food. Yes."
You sigh, looking out the tent, it was still well dark, not even a trace of light in the sky. Everyone was asleep, your ears could tell that much. With your guardians patrolling about there was no need for a watch, even if those guardians had been getting… handsy lately.
So be it.
"Come, I'll prepare a bath for you along with breakfast. Will vegetables be fine?"
"You… aren't going to punish me?"
You frown. "You're starving, no." Then you release her wrist.
Morrigan almost immediately pokes two of her fingers together, looking to the side. "Are you… maybe could you punish me afterwards?"
… Perhaps if you used the flat of your blade you could knock yourself unconscious, then when you woke up the world would be returning to some form of normalcy? Such thoughts danced in your mind a moment, before you simply responded. "No."
Then you exited the tent, ignoring the panting behind you.
I'm going to use nothing but old PC game soundtracks for this quest and nobody can stop me.
—
Candlekeep was an impressive… keep, even if a man was currently shaking you thus preventing you from appreciating it properly. Indeed, you had had but a few particularly amazing seconds to gaze upon the wondrous spires of the Sword Coast's library citadel, before a particularly fat man in robes had appeared within your immediate presence and started shaking you like a drunkard might abuse his coin purse after a night served in service of less than reputable desires. He was a familiar sort, the kind of wizard that spent all of his time with his nose in books instead of using his legs. The sort that used magic as a form of servant to pamper instead of serve, and lived a life of admittedly relative luxury. His rotundness was only partially hidden by the gilden blue robes he wore, hood flap flying up and down as he shouted in your face, his bald head reflecting the morning sunlight quite well at least, doing a fine job in particularly of waking you up.
"Baeran, thank goodness you are here. We need your help!"
This man was, by symbol on his robe, one of the keep's guards. Likely one of the types that just made sure the wards were functional or sat in a chair and tossed a magic missile at any fool bold enough to try anything particularly funny. A guard of course grabbing you and begging for your help was of course worrying, a wizard doing it however could generally be considered apocalyptic.
You stare down at the man. "Calm yourself and remove your hands. Then, once you have finished, explain your plight."
The man blinks slowly, then straightens himself, smoothes his robes, and puts on a dignified air. Impressively he manages to do all three in the same motion. "Right, apologies." He then raises a fist to his mouth and coughs into it. "Two days ago a woman approached the Keep requesting entrance, she was… bovine in nature a believe, possible part minotaur."
… Yet another?
"She failed to present any valuable scrolls, tomes, or journals for the entrance-gift, and once we refused her entry she instead pointed out several flaws within the wards…" He looks away for a moment. "That have since been fixed," he looks back, his expression now somewhat sheepish. "The guard on duty allowed her to enter… and ever since she's been making a right mess of everything!"
"In what manner has she made a mess? The guards and sages of Candlekeep should more then be able to hold their own."
The wide wizard frowns. "She has been challenging every professor, every scholar, every sage to a battle of wits, and she has almost effortlessly defeated all of them. The entire school is in an uproar, and more than one wizard has attempted to get into the forbidden archives to retrieve knowledge of Thay and Netheril to gain an edge."
"So your issue, if I understand," you say slowly and clearly. "Is that the wise men of Candlekeep have been defeated in debates multiple times, and are now seeking knowledge forbidden in order to assuage their egos?"
"They were stopped," the wizard replies. "But the entire school is about ready to throw her out, we… I fear a fight is soon to break out. She's currently arguing with one of the sages in the grand hall, with a small army of golems outside of it to prevent a riot. The initiates adore her while the masters seek her expelled or worse. Could you sort it out?"
You frown. It sounded like, perhaps beyond being an obnoxious guest the woman had done nothing wrong. But then, you had never much liked wizards. So much power and ability to change the world, and they so every frequently sequestered themselves into their towers to never leave. You had killed plenty that had gone mad with power in the past, and ran into very few that you respected. They existed, nothing was a monolith, but they tended to leave a rather bad taste in your mouth.
Mystra would likely attempt to smite you if she ever heard you say that…
"Describe the woman, you stated she was bovine."
The wizard nods his head. "About average height, black and white hair. With furry legs like a cow ending in hooves. She also had a tail and a pair of horns sticking out of her head."
… Could be a devil you suppose, but she would bounce off the wards. You glance back to the group following just behind. Ignis was staring up at the castle, her head tilted and clearly not paying even the slightest bit of attention to the conversation. Fuyao was paying attention, but she shook her head as you looked towards her, while Brynhild was… tapping her chin actually.
Your eyes met hers, and she moved the hand down to clasp them in front of her stomach. "I think I know what it might be, but I would have to meet her to be sure as there are multiple cow women I could think of."
Ah, they come in multiple types, lovely.
You sigh, turning your head back to the wizard. You were, perhaps foolishly, hoping this day would prove to be one of your more simple ones. "Lead the way." At least the wizard was too distracted to be immediately curious about your traveling companions. The last thing you needed was a crowd pestering them with questions.
—
You found the crowd a short while after you entered, but they had no questions for your group. Indeed, they were wholly transfixed by the building in front of them. A good forty or fifty men and woman stood outside the large glass-domed building that marked the Great Library of Candlekeep. It was an impressive structure, with a proud edifice of white stone rising several stories, twelve grand towers surrounding it, connected both to it and each other through complicated walkways, and the dome that had seemingly no metal or wood to hold it up. It was large, impressive, expensive, and had very little within it that actually interested you all that much.
The crowd was the usual sort you would expect, ranging in age from early teens to late eighties. Each wearing different colored robes to mark their purpose and station. What was unusual was the amount of golems between them and the library itself, a mix of iron and steel sorts, twice the size of an average man and with an eighth of the personality. Each looking out over the crowd and by all appearances keeping things from getting ugly. The crowd was remarkably peaceful, and remained as such until just about the exact moment you arrived. As it was then that the doors to the library slammed open, and walking out was a female dragonborn, smoke billowing from her nostrils as she stomped down the walkway towards the crowd, white scales reflecting the sunlight as she moved.
"Headmaster, did you wi-"
Some poor initiate, some poor fool initiate that had not quite learned to read the room, began asking the question before the Dragonborn whirled on him. "No you damned fool, I want her out of this keep this instant, someone fetch me the golem's control ro-"
She interrupted the initiated, you interrupted her. Placing a hand on her shoulder, the Dragonborn whips her head around to look at you, a curse on her lips and a blaze in her eyes. Both fail to amount to anything as she catches sight of you however. Her mouth opens slightly, her eyes flicking up and down your body before she takes a hesitant step back. "B-Baeran?"
"Lilolarys," you greet in return. "Anger does not suit you, what has you so upset?"
"It's… that damnable women, she has the gall to setup shop in our library, is rude to everyone present, then demand we leave! We are not ones to use force but I fear she may leave us no choice Baeran."
You look from her towards the library. "She had demanded you leave the library?"
"She states that we are using the knowledge within 'improperly'." Lilolarys hisses.
"... Is that so," you reply. "I'll speak to her then." You turn your head back to Lilolarys. "Send your golems back to their stations."
Lilolarys straightens. "Baeran, she has given us great insult."
You stare at the headmaster, silent for several seconds. "I was not making a request."
Lilolarys opens her snout, then clamps it shut and nods.
You smile. "Thank you, I shall return shortly. The rest of you may disperse, one way or another this shall be ending. I have my own tasks to accomplish here."
The crowd murmurs, but does nothing else as you march forward, your group following along doggedly. A glance shows Ignis grinning, Fuyao smiling slightly, and Brynhild blushing. The last one is one you choose not to think about as you make your way towards the doors and open them.
—
The library was… in a state you had never seen it before. Immediately upon walking inside you could tell something had changed, that was, of course, likely due to the fact that there were several thousand books sitting in the grand central chamber of the library, neatly stacked in perfect towers ranging from a measly duo to a grand dozen or more high. Scrolls were placed in neat piles, parchment was all carefully placed atop one another or separated into distinct sections by type and make. In all, it was orderly and well maintained. What was odd was that it was all, as stated, in the central chamber, instead of on the shelves where you would normally find them.
To your right and left were rows of bookshelves before the librarian's desk, the shelves were bare, revealing old forgotten dust and dirt that resided where the books had once been. Along with discarded trinkets and forgotten quills. Everburning torches sat in sconces still, illuminating the room where the skylights above didn't, but they were, at present, the only sign of life in the building. At least they were until you passed the desk and reached the edge of the chamber itself. Then and there you saw your quarry, walking into the room carrying a stack of books.
She was tall, not as tall as Ignis, but few you met were, with long black and white hair, split in color down the middle, running down her back to nearly reach her ankles. Said ankles however, were invisible due to the heavy white fur covering her legs. She was dressed in a style you had never seen before, a green dress of some sort, with an open side to reveal a fair amount of skin along her hips and thighs, the fur having stopped just about where the thighs began. It was green with gold edging, with a cutout for a sizable pair of breasts that almost, but not quite, rivaled Ignis once more.
As you came to a stop she turned her head to you, revealing a twin pair of horns along with red eyes partially obscured by a pair of half-framed reading glasses. And a red tattoo or paint decoration of an eye on her forehead. She stares at you for a moment, frowning, then with a grunt sets the books down onto the ground before hoisting herself atop them like a seat, a pair of cow ears to the either side of her head flicking.
"A Hakutaku…" Brynhild murmurs, causing you to look back at the centauress.
She stares at the woman a moment, then notices your look and turns her attention onto you. "Uhm, an eastern creature. Very wise, they are said to know… or at least try to know everything. They seek out knowledge and look for wise husbands, or ones willing to learn."
You nod your head and look back to the woman, then step forward once more, coming to a stop at the edge of the circular chamber, a dozen feet away from the woman. "Greetings. My name is Baeran, Paladin of Sune. Might I have the pleasure of being told your name?"
The woman's expression doesn't change, or react to your introduction in the slightest, but she does speak in a rather heavy accent that reminds you of southern Kara-Turan but not quite. "Ming." Her eyes flick to the sword resting at your side for several seconds, then back to your face. "You don't look like good sport."
You smile. "Perhaps not of the type you engage with, I have been informed you have been driving the scholars crazy. No small feat given their knowledge and expertise I must say."
Ming scoffs. "They children, children! Memorizing spells to use magic, using scrolls only once, its pathetic!"
"In any case, you have done a fine job I must say… might I ask why you are bringing all these," you gesture around with your hand. "Out into this lobby?"
Ming rolls her eyes, tail flicking angrily behind her. "No sorting here, things all over place. Basics of magical study are mixed with cookbook, farmer's almanac was mixed in studies of history!"
You glance back at the stacks, and… they are ordered, you note. No that you could make heads or tail for the use of half of them. "You've done a fine job, but I'm afraid they wish for you to leave. They seem to think you've been less than friendly."
Ming hops off the stack of books, then marches over to poke a finger against your jerkin. "Why I be nice to those who hoard knowledge without sharing? Why I be nice to those who not let copies leave? Knowledge is for use, not hoarding!"
It was true that the keepers of Candlekeep do not let tomes leave their grounds, or even copies for that matter. Once knowledge enters in a physical form, it is rarely permitted to leave, if ever. And of course, there was the deal that to enter the place to begin with you had to surrender something valuable to them, and only something they didn't have already. Regardless. "Be that as it may, they wish for you to leave and I do not want things to get violent."
"So they dumb and can't outsmart me, so now they want to throw me out? I rather fight."
"That would be remarkably ill-advised," you reply slowly. "Even if you bested them in a battle of wits, the wizards of Candlekeep are not ones to be trifled with, nor are their constructs."
"You don't want me to fight?" Ming turns her nose up at you, "then best me at wits."
You sigh, "I'm good with word and blade ma'am, I however had no formal education."
"Then leave, I have books to sort."
She then turns on the spot and heads back to the pile of tomes she brought. Ignoring you now completely.
This was going… quite poorly. She wanted a battle of wits, and while you considered yourself wise you weren't what you would describe as intelligent. Of course, there was more than one way to win without just plain intelligence. There was also your companions to consider. You look back towards your group, thinking.
Fuyao was frowning now, deeply, staring at the cow woman. She had little in the way of education either, having been peasant stock from what little she told you of her past. But she was tenacious.
Brynhild you knew very little of, but sh-
"I can handle it sir, if you wish." Brynhild says, interrupting your musings.
"You believe yourself capable?" you ask.
"I do not rightly know, but I would not be averse to making the attempt. I was educated by the finest scholars." Brynhild says, smiling.
You nod your head and look to Ignis… who was holding a book by its cover and idly smelling it.
Well, you suppose she could likely wrestle Ming into submission, if nothing else.
—
[] [Handle it yourself] You have no formal education, but then, you were confident at least in your wisdom, and charm, if nothing else.
[] [Fuyao] Frankly you aren't sure what she could accomplish here, but she looked annoyed enough to surprise you.
[] [Brynhild] If she wants to do it, she can do it, though you are curious about these 'scholars' she mentioned.
[] [Ignis] You could certainly wrestle Ming out of the building yourself, but Ignis would likely enjoy the process more.
You raise a hand slowly to your skull, rubbing it ever so gently. You felt a headache coming on, you had been feeling a headache coming along quite a bit recently. You were a patient man, you had to be. A non-patient Paladin either ended up a zealot, dead, or both rather quickly. But only a few days prior you were finally on course to get your first 'vacation' in several years of work, and, despite your love of travel and aiding people, you felt that trip to Chult you had planned was becoming more and more distant.
But, this was the life you had chosen to lead. Your plans, such as they were, rarely were allowed to exist as something more than a distant dream. But there was no point in focusing on that now in any case. You put on the smile and look towards Brynhild. "If you do not mind making the attempt, then I would elect you for the task."
Brynhild blinks, her own smile faltering a moment as she looks at you. "Are you sure, sir?"
"You stated you wish to try," you reply.
Brynhild looks to the floor for a moment, then nods her head. The smile returns to full force a moment later as she trots past you, hands straightening her silks as she makes her way over to Ming, the Hakutaku giving the horse-woman a critical eye.
Brynhild was lying of course, she was a frightfully poor liar. She was lying about a lot of things to be honest, but they were harmless little lies, so you allowed her to get away with them. You were curious how this would go regardless. That, and you had never been one particularly known for your wit, either.
"What are the rules for this battle of wits?" Brynhild asks, clasping her hands in front of her waist and doing her very best to look regal.
Ming frowns. "Nothing complicated, I ask question, we debate. You ask question after I ask three."
Brynhild opens her mouth to respond, but heavy thudding footsteps cut her off. She, along with the rest of you watch as Ignis walks past all of you to lay on the floor in the center of the room, her arms moving behind her head. "You two get started, wake me up when the boring crap is over."
Both the Centaur and the Hakutaku stare at the Salamander for a moment longer, before they both regain their bearing at roughly the same time. Ming pushes up her glasses to better sit on her nose, then stares down at Brynhild in much the same way one would a cockroach. "What is the 7th stage of Magister Vladimir's Incantations? And what implication does it have for the ongoing stability of magical constructs after the Spellplague?"
You blink, as does Brynhild. Though for two entirely different reasons you imagine.
… Where did her accent go?
"Vla…dimir?" Brynhild parrots. "Well. He, well, he brings up many interesting points that I think are definitely worth further discussion. As for the incantation it's… well, everyone knows that one so there's no real point in talking about it." Brynhild raises a fist to her mouth and coughs. "But as for the ongoing stability of the constructs, they should… be replaced more regularly was the conclusion I gleaned from it."
"A pathetic answer, you have clearly not read the text, or you would understand that he actually stated that magical golems can be fully expected to last more. What scholars trained you? A children's book?"
Brynhild frowns. "Ma'am, you insult me!"
"Oh, so you figured that out at least." Ming replies, sneering. "Next question, per the high clerics of New Absalom, under the watchful eye of the Cupid Council. Can one do morally questionable things while still being considered an objectively good person?"
Brynhild tilts her head. "That seems… more philosophical than something requiring wits."
"And yet it has a finite answer, what is yours?" Ming asks, crossing her arms.
"I… think everyone has different standards of what is 'good', and trying to label any one thing or another as 'good' is… in itself inherently flawed and overly judgmental. So I don't understand how someone could be objectively good without… um. You know, being a noble knight or hero or something."
Ming snorts. "Is that your answer?"
Brynhild hesitates for a moment, then nods.
"What is good is what furthers Monsterkind, and to be objectively good is anything that furthers that goal. Per the Cupid Council, what matters not in the method, but the result. Study your history horse."
Brynhild stomps a hoof against the stone floor, cracking it underfoot. "The Cupid Council, nor anyone else, can't decide what is good or not. That is up to the individual!"
"Says the Bicorn." Ming responds, sneering. "Last question. A very popular question in this realm. If something is evil by its very nature of existence, but young, does it deserve death?"
"Define, young." Brynhild hisses.
"A newborn." Ming replies.
"Then of course not, an infant has about as much of a capacity to understand morality as a newborn calf. Why should they be punished for the actions of their parents?" Brynhild states. "To do so otherwise… would… would be utter barbarity of the highest order!"
Ming stares down at Brynhild. "And wrong again, for evil is evil."
Bryhild steps forward, feet away from Ming. "You don't know that. What proof is there?"
"In this realm? Magic, magic can tell the truth of good and evil." Ming replies. "Why should something designed to be evil by its very nature be allowed to live?"
"You're a Hakutaku, you're supposed to learn things and seduce men, since when do you act philosophical?" Brynhild says, her voice a hiss.
Ming smiles. "I am indeed brilliant and knowledgeable in all things, but the philosophical questions of this realm interest me. And I gathered by your diction that you would be of little interest to battle in a game of intellect. So I went with questions more focused o-"
"What's tha' best cure for a Holstaur's upset stomach?" Brynhild asks, interrupting Ming. Her hands were balled at her sides, anger clear as day on her face. She was also, coincidentally, no longer sounding like a 'refined lady', as she painted herself. Indeed, it was a fair bit rougher of a tone now.
"This contest is over, you have nothing to challenge with." Ming responds. "Either find another challenger or leave me to the books."
"Are ya just ta' much of ah stupid half-cow to answer?" Brynhild asks. "Maybe ta' much philosophy instead of anthin' useful."
Ming frowns, rather deeply at that. "... The cure for an upset stomach in Holstaurs is the same for other creatures I would imagine, a simple application of crushed ginger should suffice."
"Ginger? Sure, if ya wanted her mooing all through the night in pain. Ginger makes Holstaur's want ta eat more, beer, beer will calm their stomach and help with digestion."
"... Fascinating, but I fail to see the relevance."
"Course not, goin' by the size of those useless udders of yers ah assume ya have no problems eatin' yer fill." Brynhild says, smiling. "Now," she raises her hand to her mouth again, composing herself for a moment before lowering it once more. "Pray tell, what is the best course of action if your corn has begun growing sideways?"
"Growing… sideways?" Ming parrots. "How does corn grow sideways."
"Well if you don't even know that, I suppose you cannot bestow upon yourself the title of… what was it?" Brynhild asks, tapping a finger to her chin. "Oh, right. Knowledgeable in all things, yes. A truly lofty title indeed, fit for a fairy tale."
"Plants grow straight or towards the sun, they cannot, as you say, grow sideways."
Brynhild gives Ming a look of great pity. "My apologies, you must have never experienced the wind in your library. Your studies must have been deep indeed to sequester yourself away from the world for that long. The answer, if you wish to add it to your repository, is simple, use stakes or shore up dirt." Brynhild says, turning up her nose.
"I fail to se-" Ming starts.
"What's the best way to keep Goblins out of fields? Surely a sage such as yourself must know that one."
"A proper application of magic would be more than enough for a barrier ward around the fa-"
"Your average farmgirl like m-, your average farmer would have no funds for such an endeavor, instead, a simple application of bribing them with a percentage of the crops, assuming it is something they are willing to eat. Will not only suffice, but they will voluntarily work to keep predators away from the livestock. Tell me, do you know anything practical?"
"More than you ever will." Ming replies. "What use is any of that here?"
Brynhild blinks slowly, then makes a show of looking around the library. She does so for a good long while in fact, tilting her body this way and that, turning in circles, even lifting a hand to shade her eyes.
"What, are you looking for?" Ming asks, annoyed.
"My apologies," Brynhild says, straightening herself up again. "Since we were only talking about local relevancies, I was making sure an evil infant had not spontaneously come into existence."
"You've lost, leave." Ming says.
"Did I?" Brynild asks. "That's fascinating, as I don't believe you answered a single one of my own questions correctly. Perhaps your ability to properly judicate was lost in favor of you growing those massive udders?"
"I will not be lectured upon the merits of practical knowledge by a farmgirl."
"Better ah farmgirl than ah miscreant causin' a mess in a perfectly good library!" Brynhild shouts. "Now get yer fat cow ass out of 'ere before they throw ya out. Can't ya see that's all Baeran wants!?"
The room goes deathly silent, at least, until Ignis sits herself up. "We starting a fight?"
"No," you say. "We are not."
That was what you wished for, in any case. But what you wished for and what came to pass were frequently at odds with each other, much like the forces of good and evil. Brynhild looks towards you, ready to say something, but whatever it is was cut off as a wretched, cloying, wrongness filled the air. A feeling not unlike being violently ill suddenly passing through you, as the room suddenly became dramatically colder. Your breath misted, and a fine sheen of frost covered every book around as a churning, purple portal appeared at the end of one of the library rows.
The scent of rotten eggs hit your nose a moment later. Evil. Evil was here. Evil had teleported into a place where teleportation should be impossible. Then a creature of the hells emerged, but not like any you had ever seen. It was a dog, gargantuan in size, easily the size of a horse with razor sharp claws and a barbed whipped tail. It was in all appearances a three headed, skinned dog, with scarred and blood splattered skulls visible on each one, yellow eyes glinting in their sockets as they looked around the room.
Then they looked towards the group, and growled.
"Brynhild, Ming, Ignis, leave. Fuyao, make sure they do so safely, if there are more outside, bar the doors. I will deal with this creature."
"Bullshit, you ain't getting me away from this fight."
"That was not a request." You say, not looking away from the creature to look at Ignis.
"And I don't take orders from you, husband."
—
[] [You can force the issue rather simply with a spell] (Command)
You do not have time for this right now, not when something is strong enough to simply teleport through the most heavily warded place next to Thay itself. You would not put Ignis, or any of them in danger. Ignis was a fine fighter, but you would not have her face an unknown opponent. The beast growls, not moving, not yet, but its muscles tensed. "Ignis, I understand you wish to face strong opponents, however, as your…" You close your eyes. "Husband, I would ask that you kindly protect the other members of our group. I will happily battle you later," turning your head towards Ignis, you look the Salamander in the eyes. "But please, do this for me."
The reaction was… not quite what you expected. You had expected her to at least argue, or, perhaps decide she wanted to fight the both of you at once. What you hadn't expected was the flames on her tail, previously heavily diminished by the anti-fire wards of the place, to spark to life, and a heavy blush to settle onto her face as she bites her lip. "I'll… I'll handle it!" then she moves to follow your command, and the beast darts forward.
It leaps up and to the side, its legs colliding with a bookshelf as it moves to chase after the retreating party.
No.
"YOU WILL FACE ME!" you shout, and your power surges.
The beast falls to the floor against its own will, limbs flailing before it crashes into a bookshelf. It rights itself almost immediately, saliva dripping to the floor as it turns all three heads to look at you and growl. Then it charges, dagger-claws clacking against the stone floor as it clears the thirty foot space between the two of you in the span of a moment's thought. You step to the side, slashing up with your blade as you do so. Your blade slices across the exposed musculature, spending a spray of black, viscous fluid out that sails through the air more like a gel than any liquid.
A claw impacts against your stomach a moment later, far faster than you expected, and you grunt as you slide back across the library, your back slamming into a stone pillar. Your hand shoots to your side, your teeth gritted as you switch to holding the blade in one hand. It was fast, far faster than you expected.
It reminded you of a hellhound, but hellhounds didn't have three heads. It reminded you of a Cerberus, but those generally had flesh. It was an abomination of some sort, and immediately a threatening one at that. But it's deployment… made little sense, unless by accident, or truly unlucky happenstance.
It lunges again, three heads snapping, all attempting to tear chunks out of you via razor sharp blades of teeth. Your blade slashes upwards as you step underneath the charge, and the blade cuts one head clean off the shoulders, causing the 'dog' to fall to the ground, yelping. You spin to face it once more, only to find the creature already raising itself to its feet, blood oozed out of the open wound, not dripping like blood. It hung and swayed with every moment, a black syrupy mixture that trailed closer to the floor with every passing moment, but never quite reaching it.
You drew in a breath, then shifted one foot back, your hands raising your sword all the while. "Come then."
The rightmost head rears its head back and howls. It is not a dog's howl, or even that belonging to a beast. It is a howl made up of screams, men, women, children screaming in legion. You don't move, despite a surge of fear sparking within you. It is a weak, ignorable thing, and it is gone a moment later. An interesting trick, and not a unique one, but altogether less than pleasant regardless.
You forward, your blade still raised, and the beast lowers itself and growls. Step. Step. Step.
It lunges.
You stab forward, your blade glowing white. The beast slams into the blade, the silver metal piercing through a mouth and out the back of a neck. The other head, ignoring the death throes of its 'brother', snaps around to clamp its teeth into your arm. The fangs sink deep, going straight through your light tunic and through the flesh to slam against the bone. It shakes there, not out of anger or a desire to kill however, but from agony
The white light from your blade suffuses the creature's body, piercing out of the flesh, melting the space around it. The movements get more frantic, more desperate as the beast flails, until in mere moments, it is nothing more than smoking ash on the floor. You let the blade lower, slick with the black ooze, then cast your gaze to your arm dripping blood onto the floor. You flex the arm and move the fingers…
The healing can wait for a moment. You turn your head towards the door the group left via, then begin to run.
—
You step outside to… a bloody mess. Brynhild and Ming stood a good dozen feet away from the door, the two of them huddled against one another. Both uninjured and conscious, just they also both looked terrified out of their minds. Far closer were Ignis and Fuyao, both holding bloodied weapons. At their feet just near the door, was what looked distinctly like a dire-wolf, that, at least, was a creature you were familiar with.
You were also familiar with the sight of one laying on the ground in a pool of its own blood. Fuyao stood over it panting, her ax held in a deathgrip. Ignis stood just beside her, hand raised to wipe sweat from her brow.
"Is everyone alright?" you ask.
"Nobody is injured boss, unless you're counting Ignis's dignity." Fuyao responds, raising herself to her full… not very great height. She was still breathing heavily and rapidly, but seemed in full control of herself regardless. "Thing landed right on top of her head."
You turn your gaze towards Ignis, she doesn't return the look. Instead she's rather pointedly looking towards the library you just left, a fierce blush once again on her face as her tail repeatedly hits the ground. She isn't a dog however, so it's actually making a rather sizable mark on the dirt, along with setting the small bit of weeds there on fire.
"Good to see you are alright, you say, then sheath your blade. Turning your attention to the 'scholars', you take a step forward towards Ming and Brynhild. "And the two of you?"
"Good sir, you are bleeding!" Brynhild cries out, her gaze focused on your left arm.
"Indeed, are you both uninjured?" you ask.
Brynhild nods rapidly, Ming for her part however, says and does nothing. Letting out a slow breath you turn your attention to the group of sages around, even as you place your hand against your arm and heal the wound. More of the 'wolves' were about, all dead, crushed by the golems. None of the students, sages, or guests seemed to be injured however, nor did you see another one of those three headed beasts.
It was stronger than you had expected, and with none out here, it almost seemed targeted.
"Lilolarys," you call out.
The dragonborn woman appears in the midst of the crowd, pushing past a golem to get to you. Like the rest, she was thankfully uninjured. But then, Candlekeep was one of the most secure places in Faerun. Or, at least, it was supposed to be. Frost formed in the air around her snout as she came to a stop in front of you, her hands moving to her knees as she caught her breath. "Baeran, you're hurt!"
You remove the hand you were pressing to the wound, it was bloody, but sealed. "Just a dog bite, is anyone hurt of your group?"
Lilolarys shakes her head. "None, the golems… they activated the moment portals opened up."
"How did they open up?" you ask. "Candlekeep has wards against teleportation."
Lilolarys opens her snout, then shuts it, looking back towards the bodies. "I… genuinely don't know Baeran, it shouldn't be possible. If this was an attack it was a particularly weak one. And our systems haven't reported any more intruders or anything stolen."
You nod your head, then turn towards Brynhild and Ming. "Brynhild, and teleporters in your homeland?"
Brynhild blinks, a hand moving to cover her mouth. "A… few sir, but none that would do something like this. We certainly don't have beasts like this."
Ignis snorts. "Sure, just not in your fancy pants places. I used to hunt things like this all the time."
"No did not." Ming replies. "Last Dire Wolf died century ag-"
"Ming, drop the accent." You say, cutting her off. "What do you know?"
Ming glares at you, one hand moving to push her glasses back up her face while the other plants itself against her hip. "Fine. Regular Wolves, yes. Dire Wolves were exterminated over a century ago. And there is nothing like what you fought in any record, the last recorded Cerberus turned into the queen of the southern kingdoms some four hundred years ago."
"Look, I fought some big wolves, alright?" Ignis replies, growling.
"I'm sure you barbarian." Ming replies snidely.
"That is enough." You reply, stepping forward. You don't raise your voice, but the tone is enough for the both of them. "Nothing in your studies like this?" you ask, looking pointedly towards Ming.
Ming shakes her head.
"And nothing has been stolen, and the portals were nonsensical." You say.
"It would seem to be the case, we have golems scouring the castle regardless for any stragglers, but we can confirm nothing has left. Unless they have magical portals that we are completely unable to trace." Lilolarys replies.
"So we have beasts nobody recognizes, breaking into the most magically secure place on the Sword Coast, possibly entirely by random." You say, moving a hand to your chin as you think.
"... Boss?" Fuyao says, some trepidation in her voice. "Does that mean we won't be going on that vacation?"
You smile, looking down at the squire. "Fuyao, is an adventure not a vacation?"
"Asking every scholar on the Swordcoast if they've heard anything isn't." Fuyao replies.
"While I do agree," you reply, placing a soothing hand on Fuyao's shoulder. "This is a bit too dangerous to leave alone, how about a promise, we solve this one, and then I'll give you some time off in Neverwinter."
Fuyao narrows her eyes. "For how long?"
"Until the next cry for help comes around." You say, now grinning.
Fuyao begins to lightly kick her foot against your shin. You almost feel it. "I kid Fuyao, a fortnight, we both need the rest."
Fuyao stares up at you, then lets out a sigh. "What's the plan boss?"
"Well, for starters." You say, turning your head back. "Ming, I do believe it is time for you to leave Candlekeep, you are welcome to travel with m-"
"Fuck off." Ming replies.
"Perfectly fair," you continue. "Regardless, Lilolarys please let me know if you find out anything, I'm going to begin a search nearby."
Then you begin to turn, only to find a grip on your arm halting you. It's nowhere near the amount of force actually required to stop your movement. But it was a surprise enough to halt you regardless. Turning back, you find Brynhild wiping at your arm with a white kerchief. The white silk quickly turning red under her ministrations.
"I'm no longer hurt Brynhild."
She continues wiping regardless, until the only thing left was the puncture marks in the tunic itself, she looks the arm over, then nods with a smile. "Good sir, you defended me, it is the least I could do."
"Thank you Brynhild." You reply, debating patting her on the head for a moment before deciding that would be less than proper. Turning back towards the gate, you raise a hand over your head. "Come, let's see if anything is outside."
—
To your frustration, there were no more monsters about. Frustration mostly due to the fact that you weren't getting to the bottom of things. But something interesting did happen, regardless.
[] [You summoned a 'Celestial' to get to the bottom of things]
[] [You were stopped by a very… catty merchant]
[] [Someone broke into the mansion?]
— Someone has a 'surprise' for Baeran. Fairly soon.
[You summoned a 'Celestial' to get to the bottom of things]
Thanks to @Armoury for the beta! Got it done before I left.
—
There wasn't anything of particular interest outside of Candlekeep itself. Unless one found the sight of the various buildings that made up the keep particularly interesting. To those you traveled with, they were. You yourself? You might admit you had become a bit jaded to the wonders of the world. At least, those to be found on the Swordcoast in any case. But you would not begrudge someone for acting the tourist, you had other things on your mind.
You had played the part of an excited adventurer to Fuyao, and in some aspects you were, this was a mystery, and those were always enjoyable to get to the bottom of. But… it made precious little sense at the moment. The goddess of magic herself knew little of value, Candlekeep had no leads, and either someone or something was allowing creatures alien to you to simply break through the most powerful wards in the realm, and transporting innocents directly into your lap. Or, the worse option, something had gone wrong cosmically to make such a thing possible.
The former, while the result of something malicious, was far preferable to the later, as there at least you could simply smite until the problem went away. With the later… it would require work, and not of a kind you were particularly skilled at. You were not ashamed to admit you were a simple man, you could read, but you were unlearned. You considered yourself wise, as much as any man could without risking ego turning its ugly head. But you were far from intelligent, you had never had proper schooling, nor were you especially skilled at solving a mystery more complicated than simply finding the enemy, and ending them. Or talking them out of their vile ways, that was always preferable if at all possible, if fleetingly rare.
But, frustratingly at present. You had little to go on, which was… admittedly unusual. Usually when evil plagued the land they made their presence rather known. Even the most secretive Yuan-ti tended to boast at least a little. And you never quite met a lich-king that didn't want to at least taunt the hero by the third encounter. So now you found yourself sat on a rock, idly tapping your gauntleted fingers against your face, thinking. You had hoped to find something directly outside Candlekeep, but you had had no luck there. Leaving you with nothing now but your thoughts, as Brynhild and Ignis had provien sadly useless, both remaining true to their tales that they had simply been out and about when you had seemingly kidnapped them.
Something you felt quite terrible about, though neither seemed to much mind. Especially Ignis now, the woman kept sending you furtive glances while Fuyao explained Candlekeep to them. You knew why, but you were choosing to ignore that for now, as much as you were ignoring the fact that Fuyao ran out of things to truly say about Candlekeep by the third sentence, and was now well on her way through an entire nobleman's worth of lies. It was amusing to listen to, admittedly, but it did little for helping you get your thoughts in order.
You sighed, then dropped the hand, what you needed at the moment was guidance. And you knew how to do it, even if you didn't much like doing so. There were ways you could get information, ways to ask the heavens themselves, ways to do it without particularly bothering your patron.
You could simply summon a divine being, though you disliked doing it. Not because they were anything less than helpful, mind, but unlike those you had rather gently put aside on the Mortal Plane, Sune's angels were… a fair bit more aggressive. They didn't go so much for courtly manner as simply shoving their hands down your trousers to see if the tower was standing and manned.
But such things came with dealing with the goddess of love. You knew she had representatives that represented the other forms beyond simple Eros, but you had yet to be blessed enough to meet one. But then, perhaps that was Sune's idea of a joke as well. Your goddess was a teasing sort, though as the past several years she had seem rather impatient with you, you had yet to discern why, mostly because you had not been bold enough to ask.
But you were also stalling.
You pushed yourself up from your contemplation rock, then extended your hand outwards. Closing your eyes, you whispered the words, and felt a small amount of warmth leave your body, it was never a pleasant feeling, to feel some of the love of Sune drain away from you, but it would hopefully be worth i-
*BANG*
A flash of light blinds you, and you feel momentarily weightless as you slide backwards across the ground. Your balance is barely maintained by years of experience. Your companions, by the sound of things, are not nearly as lucky. Your vision recovers less than a second later, and you find yourself immediately running forwards on instinct more than actual thought. As lying in a smoking crater, a good two feet away from where you had been standing and several feet more buried into the earth itself was… a woman.
Shit.
She was dressed in white robes, though it was torn and tattered in places. Burning in others. Two white wings, glistening in the afternoon light were folded behind her back, and it, along with a mop of blond hair, was framed by a… halo. She was, by all appearances… an angel, and not something you would attribute to Sune. She was also visibly injured, beyond just her landing, her wings were in tatters, clumps of blood about them, and her entire body was covered in cuts and wounds, most of which wouldn't have been caused by her landing.
You were by her side an instant later, placing a hand against your shoulder, and at that moment, two things happened concurrently. Her head turned, revealing bright blue eyes blinking in confusion and pain.
And then you smelled the stench: a revolting, awful, familiar stench. She smelled, for the briefest moments, of the finest perfumes. Then it was replaced by the smell of rotting corpses and spoiled eggs. It wafted off of her, filling your senses and for a moment nearly knocking you back from the intensity.
Evil.
More evil than you had sensed in some time. It floated off of her like a miasma, she hadn't performed simple evil deeds, or had an evil mindset. She simply… was evil, as a being, she had been consumed by it, or had been born in such a way, you could not tell via your senses alone.
She blinked again, then with a groan moved a hand to her neck, rubbing it. "Good… afternoon brave hero. I am the goddess Illias, are you the one who saved me?"
You step back, your hand removing itself from her shoulder and instead moving to the blade at your side. Cleaned from the blood of the beast you had slain just a half hour before, its silver sheen glinted in the sun as you pressed it against her neck. The woman froze immediately, her eyes darting to the blade as she suddenly became very, very still.
"Boss? What's going on?"
You don't look towards Fuyao, but you could tell the three of them were near the edge of the crater just by the sound of their breathing.
"Sir? Why are you threatening an angel?" Brynhild asks.
"Yeah, they can be a bit stuck up little bitches, but it isn't something I'd stab them over. Usually."
… She was not from this world, at least, that was your assumption. But she was evil, chokingly, disgustingly evil. "I had attempted to summon a servant of my goddess, instead I have summoned this… creature." You say, choosing your words carefully.
"Your nose boss?" Fuyao asks.
You nod minutely. "She reeks of evil."
"I… don't understand." Brynhild says, her voice quiet.
"You know how he says he defeats evil? He can sense when someone is." Fuyao explains. "Never seen him get this eager about it though."
That was because the last demon you slew did not reek as much as this one did. But there was… something else there, something about her that set you on edge.
"I mean you no harm." The… thing says, her eyes moving from your blade to your face.
She wasn't nervous, that was the first thing you noticed, in fact, she seemed more resigned to what was happening than anything else. "Why are you here?"
The thing tilts her head. "I was dying, and then I was here. I assume that was your fault."
"I attempted to summon a divine being, one of good at that." You reply. "Instead you are here, what did you do?"
"I did nothing, I was dying, then I was here. I thank you for saving my life, now I would ask that you kindly put the blade away."
"I will once you explain why you were dying."
The thing sighs, looking down to the ground a moment. "I lead a realm of angels, and I guarded humanity. However, monsters and their followers took issue with that, leading them to overthrow me. If you see me as evil through some sense, then I would suggest it was due to how my realm saw me at the very end."
Do not attempt to lie to me, wretch.
You remove one hand from your blade, then flick it to the side, making a series of rapid gestures before a golden light erupts from your hand. It slams into the earth, turning the brown, ruined earth to a dim glowing gold, and her eyes flicker to it in confusion before you speak again.
"Do you know where you are?"
"No." The thing answers.
"Do you know what they are?" you ask, gesturing to the three.
"Two monsters, and a human." The thing responds, venom in her tone.
"Why were you near death?"
"I was fighting evi-" The thing starts, then her eyes widen and her hand moves to her throat, a retching, choking sound coming out.
You press the blade forward. "Do not lie to me."
The thing looks up at you. "Kill me, I no longer care."
… It wasn't a lie.
You stare down at the creature, golden light suffusing her from your spell. She glared up at you, a trickle of blood running down her neck from where your blade has pricked her. "What are you?"
"A goddess." The creature responds. "The goddess. The goddess of humans, and the only one deserving worship."
"Sir, I don't think this is right," Brynhild says quietly.
"Fuck that, if you have a magic nose just stab the bitch." Ignis replies. "Or get out of the way and let me do it, something about her is setting me on fucking edge anyway."
"... Boss?" Fuyao says, and nothing else. But you understand the tone regardless. She was going to support whatever you decided.
… The scent of evil still hung in the air. "Why were they overthrowing you?"
"Kill me."
"Answer me." You hiss.
"Because they decided I wasn't enough for them!" Her chest rises and falls, rage in her voice and in her eyes. "End this farce, or send me back to die there."
…
You are sorely tempted.
—
[] [You ended her existence] She was too evil to be allowed to exist.
[] [You withdrew the blade] You did not enjoy it, but she likely had information.
