Children of Bhaal | By : ConradKrausche Category: +A through F > Baldur's Gate Views: 13631 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Baldurs Gate, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Children
of Bhaal
Introduction
This is my version of the Bhaalspawn-Saga. I
had the idea while reading Jashan’s version, which tells the story from a
female point of view and includes the Imoen romance. My version will include it
too, but it is from a male and female
perspective and first person.
As you will notice, there are two plots, one being the story of
BG II + ToB and the other one taking place after the
events of ToB.
Even in the part which tells the original story you
will notice many differences. I haven’t simply copied all dialogues and all
events. Some events are missing, some I have changed and others are completely my invention.
This story was not written for children. Although I don’t wish to generalize. There are children who are frighteningly mature and adults
who behave really childish. But you get the picture, I guess. There is violence
(a lot of it and it is very graphic, sometimes even to the extreme), swearing (all the time to the point it
becomes a regular sight), sexuality, philosophical thoughts, ethical problems.
I made this story and the characters even more complex than they
already are. You will get deep insight into
their thoughts and feelings, especially the ones of the main character and Imoen. And that is the
main reason, in my opinion, why this is only for mature or even adult people. I
intend to make you think. If not, then I have failed.
If you want to reach me, ask me questions or
give a comment (and I don’t mean “this sucks” or “this is just great”, I mean
constructive criticism) here is my Email-address:
conrad.krausche@bluewin.ch
Prologue:
Two sons of Bhaal
I am cursed, for I am the son of the Lord of
Murder, Bhaal. Wherever I go, death and destruction follow me. Whatever I do,
those whom I care for come to harm. I can try as hard as I want, but there is nothing I can do
against my own destiny, my curse, which I inherited through my father’s blood
flowing in my veins.
Faces, voices, memories… they appear in my mind and fade away again. Lost, destroyed, fallen victim to the curse which haunts me and
affects all around me. Not even the sea could fill the tears of sorrow and pain which were
caused through me.
And I am also cursed in a much different way: I
am cursed with sanity. Sometimes I wish to go insane, to forget, to lose myself
completely. But I can’t, the memories stay with me and will stay there for all
eternity. Sometimes I wish to simply be able to lie down and die. Immortality
can be so tiring.
Imoen. The one person I care more for than the whole
multiverse. This is our story and so I think it is only fair that I include her
point of view also. She had once written it all down, a long time ago and in
order for you to understand, her words must echo through time and space to you,
whom I give this.
Sarevok. Oh yes, I remember him quite well. My half-brother. Although honestly it is not entirely fair,
I always believed that it was his fault. Everything which happened later was a
result of his original actions. Perhaps if he wouldn’t have murdered Gorion,
everything would have played out differently.
Ah, Gorion. He raised me, was like a father for
me. I never knew any other parent. He had another foster-child: Imoen, my
half-sister. Although I learned that only much
later.
One day Gorion commanded me to pack my things
and leave Candlekeep with him. Candlekeep is a fortress of knowledge in this barbarous region called “The Sword Coast”.
We were waylaid in the forests outside Candlekeep, the
attackers demanded that Gorion should hand me over to them. Gorion refused and
was murdered in front of my eyes.
I fled the scene in horror, out into the dark and cold night, where Imoen found
me. Secretly she had followed us and seen everything. I remember that we had
sat long in the night, waiting for the dawn, weeping for the loss of the only
father we ever knew.
The face of the murderer had branded itself
deep into my brain. He was wearing a helmet, formed like a beast, with horns
attached to it, a heavy plate mail and he handled a huge two-handed sword. But
his eyes, his eyes were what was most memorable. They
were shining yellowy and cruel.
“He… he just killed him! Like that, without
much of an effort. And he enjoyed it; I saw it in his eyes…” I whispered to
Imoen.
“I know, saw it too. What kind of person can be
like this? I’ve heard stories of evil, but until t’night I never
understood them really. Whoever this guy is, his soul’s dark as the darkest darkness.”
We were silent again for some while.
“What do we do now, Darnoc? I don’t know ‘thing about
what’s out here…” Imoen asked me.
I shrugged my shoulders.
“I am not sure, I know as much as you do.
Gorion told me something about the Friendly Arm and that Jaheira and Khalid
were there, two old friends of his. Perhaps we should go to them.”
Imoen nodded.
“Hey, but shouldn’t we at least not first try
t’ get back into Candlekeep, don’t ya think?”
“Well, we could try… Better
than sitting here anyway.”
So we went back, walking several hours until we
finally reached our home. But the gate guards approached us, their halberds in
front of them, blocking our way.
“Stop right there! You can’t enter here,
although ya’re Gorion’s son and I like ya much. Sorry, Imoen, no exception for ya
too. Winthrop won’t like to hear it, I guess, but the keepers of the
library are strict with the rules, ya know.”
“But… but why? I live here, it’s my home!”
The guard captain shrugged his shoulders.
“Can’t change it, without Gorion ya’re not coming back in here.”
“Gorion’s dead, you hear me! He was murdered in the forest!”
The guard captain tried to say something, but couldn’t,
his face deadly pale.
“Gorion… he’s dead? But how…?” he finally
managed to say.
“Ah, it doesn’t matter to you anyway, does it,
since you won’t let me in, you son of a bitch!”
I turned around and walked back into the
forest. Imoen stood there for a second, looking at the walls of Candlekeep, but
then she hurried to catch up with me.
I was fuming with anger and after we were out
of sight, I sat down on a stump.
“It’s… it’s just not fair! How can they be so
cruel, those fucking assholes with their damn noses looking always into their
shitty books! My father was just murdered, one of their greatest scholars, and they just don’t let us in
again, as if we’re a bunch of strangers or something! I hate them!”
I had stood up while talking and finally began
hitting a tree, furiously, my eyes flashing with anger. Then I leaned against
the tree and began to sob. I just felt wrung out, as if I had no energy left to
do anything anymore.
Imoen put her hand on my shoulder and then
hugged me closely. She was crying too and so we just stood there, embraced, tears streaming from our eyes. I don’t
remember, how long we stood like this, sharing in our pain and sorrow, not
knowing what to do without the guidance of our father.
After some hours we were able to talk again and
we decided to go to the Friendly Arm and seek out the two friends of Gorion,
hoping that they could help us. Fortunately, it wasn’t a long way from
Candlekeep. Without help we probably wouldn’t have lasted long in the wild.
It was a cruel world which we were suddenly
thrown into. To make a long matter short, we met with Jaheira and Khalid. They
were trying to uncover the mysterious iron-shortage in the mines of Nashkell, a
village in the north of Amn. Although I was more anxious to find the murderer
of my father, I had no other choice than to follow Jaheira and Khalid, needing
their protection and guidance desperately. Along the way I and Imoen learned a lot on how to survive from
them.
In Nashkell we met the ranger Minsc (together
with his giant space-hamster Boo) who tried to rescue his “witch” Dynaheir from
a gang of Gnolls. I immediately liked his funny way and I and Imoen persuaded
Jaheira (Khalid was all for helping Minsc, but was too shy to say so) to help
him.
After finding Dynaheir, we began uncovering
this iron-shortage. We found out that the person responsible for this was in
league with the bandits waylaying the caravans coming from the south to Baldur’s Gate.
So we visited them, only to find out that they actually worked for the powerful
trading organization “The Iron Throne” which possessed a secret mine somewhere
in the Cloakwood. Their plan was to bring all
iron-production and trading to a halt, then coming forward with their own iron and with that
taking over the whole market.
A simple matter of economic
criminality? I
thought so too, first. At least until we actually went to Baldur’s Gate, trying
to find out more about this “Iron Throne”. Their leaders had a meeting in my
old home, Candlekeep, so we followed them there (receiving an ancient and
valuable book from Duke Eltan Silvershield
of Baldur’s Gate, who was also interested in uncovering the schemes of the Iron
Throne, in order to “buy” our way into Candlekeep) and confronted them. Of
course, they didn’t take it kindly and it resorted in violence… and their
deaths. We were arrested for murder, tough, and it seemed as if the son of the old leader
of the Iron Throne, Sarevok, was behind all what has happened. Then I just thought that he had
done this in order to take over the business of his father, which of course
gave him immense economical power.
But Sarevok didn’t simply wish for economic
superiority or something else as trivial. Oh no, he wanted much, much more. He
had found out that he was one of the sons of Bhaal and he wanted to become the
new Lord of Murder by creating one huge bloodbath. My only option was to
confront him, before he could seize power over Baldur’s Gate and unleash a huge
war between the trader-city and Amn.
And it was then that I finally learned the truth: Sarevok was in fact my half-brother,
for I too was a son of Bhaal. In Sarevok’s eyes I was just a rival for the throne
of his father.
Deep beneath the city of Baldur’s Gate was the ancient “Undercity”. He had fled there after his attempt to murder
all the dukes of Baldur’s Gate had failed. In an ancient temple he awaited me,
together with Tazok, chief of the bandits, a mage and a thief.
The temple was a huge, dark hall, along the side walls stood
statues of demons and beast and in the middle was the symbol of Bhaal: The
grinning skull surrounded by tears.
Sarevok called to me: “Hello, “brother”! You have
foiled my plans and I owe you one for that, you damned piece of dogshit! I guess that our father fucked the filthiest whore
in the realms when he produced you, pah! And now I
cleanse this world of this piece of dirt!”
“I reject my father and all his doings! I hate
him, I curse him! And you with him, for following him down the same road! If
you want to be like your father, then I will send you to him so that you can
enjoy each other’s company for all eternity in hell!” I called back to him.
“Then this is how it will be! But it is you who
will join our father in the abyss, where eternal torment will await you,
traitor! Yes, you’re a traitor! You betrayed our father and are not worthy of his name! Get them!”
The mage immediately tried to cast some spells
against us, but Imoen shot an arrow directly into his throat. Gurgling he fell
to the floor. I didn’t notice his moment of death, for I already had other
problems.
I, Khalid and Minsc formed a shield-wall;
Jaheira, Imoen and Dynaheir stayed behind us and so we slowly advanced. The
shield-wall is a very effective infantry formation which I read about in the
books in Candlekeep when I was still young. I had always been fascinated by
weapons and the professions of warrior and soldier. The fighters wedge their
shields together, so that a wall of shields is formed. Through the gaps one can
thrust one’s sword or spear. I heard that sometimes shield-walls could face each
other for one whole day without any attack, for attacking a good-formed
shield-wall is almost suicide and takes quite an amount of bravery (or either
madness or drunkenness).
Tazok, a typical barbarian, attacked us with a loud war-howl, swinging his huge broadsword.
His brutal force penetrated our wall, Khalid was pushed back and now Tazok was
behind us, where he attacked Jaheira, who quickly dodged his mighty blow. Minsc
swung around with full force and his force
penetrated Tazok’s armor at the chest. Khalid had also swung around and thrust his sword into
Tazok’s back. Tazok roared out in pain and fell on his knee, where I beheaded him with one quick
blow of my own sword, Hullbane, named after my old
fighting-teacher in Candlekeep. In the meantime, the thief had somehow gotten
in our backs, but Khalid with his half-elven senses had noticed him and thrust
his sword backwards, directly through the thief’s throat.
Sarevok had watched the slaughter of his minions,
while laughing at their failure to kill us. He stepped forward and raised his huge two-handed
sword.
“Darnoc, come here and face your doom,
half-brother! You have rejected your destiny, your gift, given to you by our
father and for that I will destroy you! Come here and leave your blood on my
blade!”
Sarevok was huge. I mean it. About
two meters high. And of course very strong. I,
on the other hand, am rather a small, but quick person who rather uses skill
than brutal force. Or my mind. If one can outwit his
enemies, it is always better than to just attack them head-on. If I judged Sarevok right, he would immediately use
his brute force to crush me; he would swing his sword like a farmer using his scythe in the field. Sarevok was the harvester of death and fought also like
this. I had but no choice than to dodge and make quick stabs and thrusts, but
never allow him to be able to use his strength on me.
As I had predicted, it happened. Sarevok roared and attacked me with his full
strength, swinging his sword rapidly from one side to the other side, hewing
and hacking down on me. I backed away, never let him
allow to crush my defense, only parrying him lightly. And I waited for my moment,
where he would give me a gap in his own defense.
His attack slowed down and now I went into the
offensive, but with a fundamentally different method. I stabbed, thrust and
swung quickly and without a visible pattern so that Sarevok had but no choice than to
quickly dodge and parry. I used the style also known as “Sword-dance”, which takes quite an
amount of dexterity and skill.
And then I used my own little trick. I guess
that I wasn’t the first to think of this, but I thought of it myself and I
began to train this trick especially, finding new methods to use it. It was
effective against most people, even against experienced fighters.
Suddenly I acted as if stumbling, falling forward on my knees, sliding a little
sideward so that I could reach the back of
Sarevok’s legs easily. Sarevok howled triumphantly and raised
his sword to behead me, when I swung my sword low and cut both his Achilles’
tendons just above his feet with one, quick slash.
Sarevok cried out in pain and fell to the ground;
I quickly jumped to my feet and backed away, so that he couldn’t reach me with
his own sword. Before Sarevok could recover enough to counter-attack, I
cut off his right hand. His hand, still clutching the sword, fell to the
ground, the sword with a loud clank which echoed through the now silent hall.
I stepped forward and Sarevok stretched out his left hand and
grabbed my right leg. Blood dripped from where his right hand once was.
“You got me, you really did. I wouldn’t have
thought you were able to. Damn you, father! I have tried, why do you leave me
now? I was worthy of your throne! Father!”
His last cry ended in a moan of pain. He began
to feel it; soon he would die from loss of blood.
“And for you, my brother: I curse you! Your
soul shall be taken from you! May it wither and die!”
I thought it was just the last curse of a
beaten enemy back then…
He coughed and almost fell on his face, but he
got himself under control again. His voice grew weaker, when he said: “Make it
quick, my brother, send me to my father. I await my death.”
He grabbed me around my waist and lifted himself up
to the ground. He took of his helmet and threw it to the ground. His eyes
looked into mine, blood dripping from his arm onto my armor.
“Do it!” he said firmly.
But then something came over me I never knew
before, at least not like this: An uncontrollable hate. I wanted Sarevok to suffer; I wanted to repay
everything he had done to me. I wanted to revenge my father, Gorion.
“You have taken the only real father I ever
knew, Gorion! You have murdered him! Go join your damned father in hell! I hate
you!”
With this I drew a knife and began stabbing him
in his stomach, again and again. Blood spilled over my armor, Sarevok howled in pain and I cried out
in the joy of released hatred. It didn’t stay there, I began cutting and
stabbing everywhere, blindly, without thinking, I destroyed his face, stabbed
out his eyes.
The others watched with horror at this outbreak
of pure hatred. Imoen cried out and grabbed my arm.
“Stop it, Darn! Don’t give in t’
‘im! Don’t give in t’ yar father!”
And then I did something which I regret until
this day. I grabbed Imoen painfully at her shoulder and hit her into the face,
while screaming at her: “Did you forget what this monster did to our father?
You betray his memory, you fucking bitch! I should slice you open like I just did
this piece of shit which calls himself “my brother”!”
Sarevok had been long dead; his mutilated corps
now lay on the floor, covered in blood, as I was. Imoen fell to the ground, a
moan of pain coming out of her. Jaheira raced towards me, trying to stop my madness. And
suddenly realization struck me with perfect clarity.
“Gods, what have I done! What have I done!
Imoen, what have I done!”
Tears filled my eyes. Just some moments ago I had
felt the joy of satisfied hate, now I only felt a deep, sinister depression and
regret. I rushed to Imoen and helped her up.
“Forgive me; I didn’t know what I was doing…” I
whispered.
She remained silent at that time, but her look
told me that she forgave me in her heart, although she never told me.
“Just don’t let ‘em
take ya, don’t give in t’ yar father’s will, please. I’ll help ya, if I can, but I don’t want that ya
end like Sarevok. That I couldn’t bear, not after all the other thin’s
that happened.”
Jaheira still looked critically at me. I guess
she already suspected that I began losing my control more and more to what was
inside me, given to me by my father. She never had to chance to prove herself
right, but eventually her suspicion would actually come true, at least to some
point.
All the sorrow, the pain, the hatred, the
anger, everything collapsed onto me; it almost seemed as if I was falling into
a dark abyss. I wanted to forget, I
wanted to wake up and find that it had all been a dream. But I didn’t wake up. And so I sat on the floor and wept, wetting my sword with my tears.
Then I saw him: my father Bhaal. Of course, he
wasn’t really there; it was all in my head. At least I think so, for the others
didn’t see him.
Bhaal laughed at me and shouted: “You sorry
little fool, look at you, all weeping and consumed by sorrow! You can’t deny
me, I am in you, I am here and I am your true self! Embrace me, like your
brother did and use the power I gave you!”
“Father”,
I shouted into the dark hall, “I curse you! Do you hear me, Bhaal? I will do everything to destroy you
and everything that is left of you! There will be no new Lord of Murder, never
ever again! I hate and spit on you! It is all your fault and I will hold you
accountable for everything which has happened and which will still happen!
Do you hear me, father? Never shall you rise
again! This I swear on the blood of my dead brother!”
I took out a knife, cut my hand and then I
pressed it into the blood of Sarevok, where our blood mingled. Nothing happened
though; it seemed to me as if the darkness and silence were mocking me.
Somehow I hoped back then that it was now all
over. I should soon enough find out, how completely wrong I was.
I am Darnoc, son of Bhaal, Lord of Murder. And whatever
I do, death and destruction follow me.
Part One: Escape
Darnoc: Awakening
It seemed to me as if every last part of my body was covered in agony. I
smelled burned flesh, blood lay on the floor of the cage and my head burned
with an inner fire. Why couldn’t this shit-eating motherfucker not just leave
me alone? There he stood, looking at me as if I was some kind of insect on the
table of his laboratory. Irenicus, whose name shall be cursed for all eternity. The sheer memory of him brings back the pain he
caused me. The horrible thing back then was that I didn’t even know his name. I
only learned it later. He was just a nameless
tormentor, I didn’t know, who he was or why he did what he did.
After about some months, we had
decided to leave Baldur’s Gate, where we had been celebrated as heroes and the
saviors of the city. Somehow I just had been tired of all the awe and the groveling behavior
of the nobles. I wanted a simpler world, where I knew who my enemies were and
where the only thing between us was my sword.
During that time I wrote a lot into my little
book, one which I had brought back with me from my visit in Candlekeep. There
were ideas in my head, which just needed to get written down. Numbers,
formulas, sketches. I had always been angry that no one bothered to describe
the marvelous things in nature. I could see
it, how everything was connected, how everything fitted into the greater
picture and followed the rules of the great game, even the gods themselves
being only a part of it. Mathematics was the clue to everything, the numbers were everywhere.
If you have ever marveled at the perfection of the spiral on a snail-shell, you understand
what I mean. Everything follows patterns, laws. And I began to define them,
write them down in the logical and pure language of mathematics.
The mages call themselves wise and learned, but in fact they are just ignorant idiots, who cannot
see what’s in front of their very eyes. But I was fixed on the idea to show to
them the beauty of it, the perfection. I wanted to laugh at them, to amaze them
with my own findings. They were just a bunch of fools, hiding in their books
and forgetting the world around them, not able to see what wonders lie in
it. It is all there, the potential to do great and terrible things, things no
one has ever dreamt of. But I could and still can see those things. And in the
end I was proven right. That was much later, tough
So we left Baldur’s Gate for the south. We had
just lain down to rest, when I awoke. Something was not right, I could feel it.
Something was around us, something menacing, so I drew my sword. Before I could react,
though, I was hit on the back of my head and passed out immediately. When I
awoke I found myself where I was now.
I cannot say how long I stayed there. I
remember pain, lots of it, and always my tormentor’s face, staring at me, as if I was a thing he
experimented with, not a living being.
“Hm, another
experiment is needed, I guess… Let me have a look in my laboratory journal… Hm, those experiments show promise, don’t you think? I
guess I will continue with those” he said in his cold, emotionless voice,
writing into his journal.
Then he waved with his hands in the air and
spoke strange words, just like mages use to do it. The power built up between
his hands and then a ray of pure energy struck me and flung me backwards against the iron bars of the cage. Suddenly my skin
dried and began to look like the one of a mummy, as if all water had been
drained out of my body. But this didn’t just happen from one moment to the
other; it felt as if the water was just drawn out of my body. I screamed in my torment,
but the sweet forgetfulness of unconsciousness wouldn’t come, it kept going,
the pain rose to new heights and I felt every last bit of it.
I guess he was one of the reasons why I later
on despised mages like that. In my eyes I began to view all mages as potential
Irenicus’. But I’m going ahead of myself, for that part of the story is not yet to be
told.
Suddenly, he released me and my skin became
normal again. He laughed, but with no humor in it, probably just to anger me.
Inside of me I felt something, which I had been feeling more and more lately:
hate, pure hate. It was stronger this time and I knew that it would grow
stronger every time. And someday it would reach a climax. I didn’t want to
imagine, what would happen then. He on the other hand probably just wanted it
to happen.
A golem came running towards him, his earthy voice saying: “Master, they’re
attacking again.”
“Oh, those damn fools, they just never learn. Well, I probably have to take care of this. As for you, son of Bhaal,
I’ll come back for you soon and we’ll continue this. So please, don’t go
anywhere. There are so many fascinating things yet to do.”
Laughing at his own joke (but still it seemed
as if he couldn’t feel any humor at all) he teleported away.
Somehow I must have passed out, for when I was
aware of things again, I could hear the sounds of battle, swords
clanking and arrows swishing. And sometimes I could even here the sounds of fires,
electricity and roars of beasts. Probably the doings of his magic.
Suddenly someone came running towards the cages, a figure with a black
hood and leather armor in the same color, holding a short sword covered in blood in its
hand.
“Yah’re dah prisonahr? Dah Bhaalspawn?” he said with a thick amnish accent. I
managed a nod. Suddenly I heard a shrill voice, the hooded figure turned around, just to see a magical missile
coming flying towards him. He screamed in fear, then it hit him and he just exploded his
blood and innards covering the whole area.
Soon after that, a door opened right of me and
in came a familiar figure: Imoen. Although I probably
didn’t look it, I was really glad to see her. I didn’t have a clue what had
happened to my companies and especially Imoen I had been worried about. She saw
me and relief showed on her face. Quickly she stepped over to my cage and
opened the door. Irenicus seemed to have forgotten to lock it.
“Darnoc, y’a’right?” she
asked with worry in her voice. I didn’t look to good, but that did count for
her too. A badly healed scar was now over her right eye, as if someone had
tried to cut it out. I could see other remnants of wounds, but those seemed to
have healed. Other than that she just seemed very, very weary and weak. Hell, I didn’t look
better, probably worse. But still, it gave me quite a shock seeing her in this
state. She had always been so funny and joyfully, joking and in a good mood. It
had always been me who had been sinister, somber and somehow pessimistic. Now
her eyes looked sad, something seemed to have happened to her, something horrible
which had left its mark in her soul.
I tried to get to my feet, but didn’t manage,
so she stepped into the cage and gave me a hand. With her help I got up and
could walk weakly. With one hand I wiped away my long, brown, unwashed hair
hanging into my face and covering my sight. It was shacking uncontrollable and
the skin on it looked very pale, almost white.
“I think Jaheira an’ Minsc ‘re
back there. We should get them out.”
She quickly glanced at me.
“Sure ya okay? Ya really look bad, as if ya’d just
been wringed out or somethin’.”
I laughed dryly.
“Well, that comes close to it. Nah, I’ll be
fine, we should get to Jaheira and Minsc.”
Minsc turned out to be caged in a little behind
my own cage. He looked gloomily at us, petting his hamster Boo. But apart from looking gloomy he was still
the same. A violet tattoo covered half of his bald head, the feature of him one
probably noticed first. And he still seemed strong like a bull, unlike me.
“Boo isn’t happy at all, oh no! Dark place that is, no good for a warrior. Get me out of here!”
I smiled, Minsc still had his hamster and just
a little sunshine would probably cure him of everything.
“It’s good to see you again, Minsc. Well, what
do you suggest we do to get you out of here?”
“Arrrghh, that’s the
problem! I don’t know and not even Boo has a clue.”
Imoen suggested: “Perhaps there’s a key
somewhere here?”
I nodded.
“Yeah, right, we should search for it.”
Minsc looked dismayed at me, anger growing in
his face.
“What? And you just leave me and Boo here! I am
going to smash you to pieces, Boo will scratch your eyes out, you traitor! Raaaahhhhrrrr!!!”
With his last words he thrust himself with all
forces against the door of the cage and to our surprise the bars bent and the door cracked open.
“Haha, I’m free! Now
you’ll feel my anger, you… Now wait, you did that on purpose, so that I would
get angry and be able to smash the door, Boo tells me? You’re a clever one, Darnoc, almost as clever as my little
Boo here.”
Imoen and I laughed resoundingly at Minsc’s
comment.
“You’re just the greatest, Minsc, you really are. Come on, let’s go and kick some
evil butt!” I said still laughing.
“Oh, yes! We will destroy this evil wizard, we will give him our sword for
dinner, yes we will! Minsc and Boo are free again! Evil, beware of our revenge!”
Jaheira had watched everything from her cell,
smiling a little. Her blond hair was a mess (but she wasn’t the person which
bothered about such things), her brown eyes flashing with anger and at the
moment also amusement. And there was also the old, critical look in her eyes,
as if she would just start to point something out to me. Her muscles
seemed to have lost some of their strength, but she never had been as strong as
Minsc anyway and rather relied on skill and wits.
“So, now that we have our hamster-warrior out of his cell, perhaps you
could give me a hand here? I don’t think I’ll be able to crash this door like
mighty Minsc, so you probably have to search for this key Imoen mentioned. I
can assure it, a key is needed, for the lock is magically sealed.”
“Hey, the room I was before entering here,
there was a chest. Perhaps the key can be found there” Imoen suggested.
So I, Imoen and Minsc went over there. Indeed
there was a chest (Imoen picked the lock with a piece of wire) and indeed a key
was in it. But some other things were there too. I found a magical long sword
and a shield for me, on the table were two maces for Minsc and Imoen grabbed
herself a short-bow and some arrows. For Jaheira I took a wooden staff. Then
we equipped us also with some armor which was lying around and I also took a helmet.
The key opened Jaheira’s cell and we handed the
staff and a chain-mail over to her.
“Now we are at least not unarmed and can perhaps find a way out
of here. And in all this fighting and ongoing confusion, we might just escape”
she said.
“You’re right, let’s get going. The sooner we
leave here, the better” I replied.
“Yeah, we definitely overextended our stay
here, I mean all the food they need t’ keep us alive prob’bly
costs a lot an’ all, they must indeed be glad t’ get rid o’ us, don’t ya think?” Imoen added.
I laughed at this comment and said: “Well, it’s
good to see you joking again, Imoen.”
So we set out to escape from this dreadful
place.
Imoen:
Caged
I remember when we were in Baldur’s Gate after
Sarevok’s death. We had been the
heroes, all cheered and congratulated us. Just like Darnoc, I never liked such things;
probably the reason, why we both secluded us and each took up our studies. I
began with magic and he buried himself behind his notebook, in his mathematics
and technology. Sometimes he told me about what he was doing and I tried to
listen, but most times it was simply not possible to understand him, he was
talking far too technical. Still, it was
amusing, listening to him.
One evening, some months after killing Sarevok, I was about seventeen and a
half then and my brother about eighteen and a half, we sat down with our
companions and discussed our situation. Soon we realized that we all felt the
same about this city: We didn’t like it at all. So we decided to leave Baldur’s
Gate and head south, towards Tethir and Amn. It had been Jaheira’s idea,
who had come from these regions.
We camped some miles south of the city and I
soon sleep took me. After months of hanging around in Baldur’s Gate, my condition
wasn’t what it had been. Suddenly I awoke and saw Darnoc, looking around, his sword in his hands.
“Something not right?” I asked him.
He shrugged his shoulders and suddenly a dark figure leaped out from the shadows
and hit Darnoc over his head. I screamed,
awakening the others and took my bow, trying to shoot the attacker. But
suddenly more began to appear, more and more. One came towards me, swinging a sword and
destroyed my bow with it. I tried to unsheathe my sword, but was suddenly
grabbed from behind and hit over the head.
When I awoke, I was lying in a cage, hanging on
a chain, which was attached to the ceiling. And in front of me, a figure stood,
looking at me, observing me. He, for he clearly was a male, had no hair at all
and the back of his head was covered by some kind of material, leather perhaps,
and metal thorns attached to it.
But his eyes, they were what really caught me.
They were as cold as ice. I don’t mean their color; I am talking about the
expression in them. He just stared at me, as if I was an inanimate object he
was experimenting with. Fear took hold of me, a fear I couldn’t really place. I just had
this horrid feeling that this man could do… things to me. Things I couldn’t
even begin to imagine.
When I began to talk, I realized that I had
only strength to whisper.
“Please, where am I? What’s this place? What d’ya want
o’ me?” I begged him.
“Who I am, is of no importance, neither the
exact location of this place. What is important, Imoen, is what I am going to
do with you. We will start immediately.”
He conjured a bolt of lightning at me and the
force of the electricity flung me against the wall, where it shook me, the
energy passing through me into the metal of the cage. I must have lost consciousness
and the next thing I remember was again this man, staring at me.
“Interesting. You are not as strong as your brother, I
must admit. At least not physically. I will continue
testing your physical abilities, but perhaps I will have to move on to your
mental abilities. I guess you are much stronger in that aspect.”
“Lemme go, please, lemme go, I don’t want anythin’
from ya!” I whispered desperately.
“I am sorry, Imoen, but I cannot. I must
succeed. But it is nothing personal.”
This time he tried fire and burned my skin
black. After he finished, I lay trembling on the floor of my cage, wanting to
die. He opened the cage, stepped into it and touched my skin. Pain rushed
through my body, horrible pain and I screamed in agony. After that he simply
conjured a healing spell and stepped out again, my skin returned to normal.
“Hm, if I think about
it, I might stop using those kinds of spells. It only consumes time to heal you
afterwards, so I might try something pain
inducing instead of really doing physical damage. Much more effective, wouldn’t
you agree?”
I crept towards him and spat him into his face.
He didn’t even flinch, but simply washed it away with his hand.
“A sign of strength, interesting. Perhaps you are not as weak, as I have thought.”
Then he used several magical missiles on me,
each increasing in power and pain. First I screamed, then I whimpered, but in
the end I had no strength left at all and just lay there.
Again my consciousness must have faded, for
when I awoke, I lay on a table. Turning my head sideward, I saw another, smaller table next
to the one I was lying on. And there were knives on it. A lot
of different knives, different sizes, different shapes. Then he came,
halting next to the knives.
“Anatomy can be so fascinating, wouldn’t you
agree, Imoen?” he noted, his voice as emotionless as always.
He took up a scalpel and stepped over to me,
moving it slowly closer. I tried to move away, but realized that he had bound
me to the table, my hands, my legs and even my head. Sweat appeared on my forehead, I began to shake,
as he moved closer and closer, towards my right eye.
“Please, don’t, please!” I begged him, but he
continued.
Finally he grabbed my head with his left hand,
moved away my hair and bent over me, looking directly into my eyes, his scalpel
only some centimeters from my right eye. With one, quick movement he slashed
over it, I closed my eyes and screamed.
I almost didn’t dare to open them again, but when I
did, I realized that I still could see. Still, blood run into
my right eye, clouding my vision. And around my eye a burning pain had appeared.
“Acid. It will make the scar more visible. Here, take a look.”
He took up a mirror and held it in front of my
face. A long wound had appeared on my face, above and under my right eye,
blood running down from it across my cheek and also into my eye.
“Never underestimate the fear we create in ourselves. The fear of what might happen. Sometimes the
imagined fear can be more horrible than the real one” he explained in his calm voice.
First I had only been afraid, but now I began
to feel hate. I hated him, I wanted to kill him! I was almost a little shocked
of myself, when I realized it. But then the feeling faded and was replaced by
weariness. I was exhausted, afraid and
alone. Where was Darnoc? I remembered, how I had mocked him, because of his fascination for
technology. Now I was sorry for it. If only I could see him again, it would
make the whole thing more bearable. Tears mingled with the blood and the man
watched it all, observed it.
“So, you have feelings for your brother? Fascinating. You won’t see him again, though.”
“I hate ya!” I
screamed at him.
“Good, good, wonderful. Continue with it.”
What came after that was even more horrible. He
bound me to a chair, again so that I couldn’t move, and he put some… things at
my eyes, some kind of clamps, I couldn’t close them, they were forced open. On
the table in front of me lay a familiar figure: Khalid.
“As I have remarked already, anatomy is a
fascinating subject. Let me show it to you. I wish you to understand, what I am
going to do to you afterwards.”
I shuddered at those words. He was a
cold-blooded, sadistic bastard!
And then he began to cut Khalid’s
body open. He was dead, I realized that, but it was still gruesome. He took out
the different body parts, showed them to me and explained some things about them. Once he even
made Khalid’s arm twist and shake, as if he was
still alive. That he used to explain to me the function of nerves.
When I was back in my cell, I felt sick and
vomited on the floor. But no one came to clean it up. I tried to move away from
it, but the cage was very small and I had the stench of it in my nose all the
time.
He began doing things with my head, what
exactly I couldn’t tell. He used some spells, though, but I couldn’t identify
them. They only had an effect on my mind, not my body. My head seemed to burn
inside all the time and I couldn’t sleep because of it. My weariness increased more and more.
I remember one scene in particular and still shudder, when I think
about it. He had bound me on the table again and had done some of his cutting
experiments, healing me afterwards. Still, the pain stayed. It was then that he
moved his hand over my body and my hair and starred at me.
“Ordinary people would probably describe you as
‘pretty’, Imoen. I cannot feel anything, though. I cannot even remember, what
it felt like, to feel pleasure or love or desire. It is all so long ago… You
know, I once loved someone. I still remember it, but not the feelings. They are now only words with no meaning to
me. I cannot feel; they took it away from me. And I will get it back, I will
get it back!”
It was probably the only instant I ever felt
anything else than fear or hate for him. How was it to not be able to feel at all? Must be
horrible, I thought. A spark of sympathy had arisen in me, but only for a moment.
He bent down, until his face was close to mine,
his cold, icy breath touching my skin, his eyes staring into mine. But there was nothing
in them, only emptiness, no emotion, nothing at all.
“Could you bring them back, the feelings? I
have tried before, without success… No one has been able to bring them back, no
one. I don’t think you could. But perhaps, perhaps…”
I shuddered at his cold touch, but he soon drew
his hand away again and shook his head.
“There is nothing, nothing at all. It is no
use. Let us continue with our experiments.”
How long did this continue? I couldn’t tell
back then. When I had again access to a calendar, I realized that I had grown
eighteen already, without noticing it.
One day I awoke, hearing shouts, screams and clashing of
swords, swishing of bows and even sounds of magic being used. A fight was
taking place here.
Slowly I rose and touched the door. It swung open;
my tormentor had forgotten to lock it. A spark of hope arose in me and I crawled out of the
cage. Out there I tried to stand up, but didn’t manage, so I crawled on. After
some minutes I was able to lift myself up with the help of a door handle and
from then on I stumbled on and on.
Finally I opened a door and saw another series
of cage. And in one of them I saw the figure of Darnoc, lying on the floor of the cell.
Quickly I rushed to him and opened the door, which was also unlocked. We were
together again, finally, after all those horrors.
Darnoc: Out
of the cage
I really began to feel the weight of this
damned chain-mail. We didn’t even have proper underwear to protect against the friction of
the mails against our bodies. Not only was the damn thing heavy, it hurt and my
skin was probably all bruised and grazed by now. But we needed them and so we
bore them and our weapons too.
The damn place was crawling with those goblins.
Lucky for us, they were bad fighters and even worse shots. Imoen on the other
hand proved to us that she didn’t lose her skill in this dungeon. By pretending
to a golem that I was his master I could make him open some closed doors for
us. But if we had known that an Othyug waited behind it, we probably wouldn’t
have been so eager to enter it.
The beast attacked us with a shriek from its
huge mouth filled with sharp teeth and spat on us (the damned spit of this
beast has infections in it, as we noticed to our dismay later on) and rushed
towards us, flapping two tentacles
angrily with claws on it. I raised my long sword (giving thanks to whatever god
was listening right now that it was magical) and shield and asked myself, how
to best advance this beast. I didn’t leave me much choice though; it simply attacked
head on, so I stepped quickly aside and stroke it into its neck. My sword
penetrated its skin like butter and the beast shrieked in dismay. But before it
died, it spat into my face. I wiped it off; it seemed to burn my skin.
“Darnoc, everything
fine?” Jaheira
asked me.
“Yeah, it’s nothing. Just that this thing spat
on me… Ah, it’s nothing, don’t worry.”
She looked critically at me, but didn’t say
anything else.
Behind the Othyug-chamber we found a very
different kind of room. It was arranged quite elegantly, it’s furniture most
exclusive. Imoen looked worried at the room.
“Somethin’s not right
here. Stay there, I’ll go an’ look.”
So we waited as she closely examined
everything. Suddenly she stood still and looked intensely at the carpet lying on the floor. Then she
lifted it up and smiled triumphantly.
“Hah, I knew it! This room’s trapped. Just wait
a minute an’ I’ll have this problem fixed.”
“What? I didn’t see a thing!” I exclaimed.
“Ya never ‘ad the eye
for such details, Darn. But if ya’d
looked closer at the carpet, ya’d seen a little hump. There had t’ be somethin’ there an’ as ya can
see, there is.”
But I still didn’t see a thing, so I stepped
closer. And then I noticed that one of the stones the floor consisted of had a
small mark in its corner. Im bent down and
lifted the stone up, revealing a strange device.
Immediately the fascination came over me. This
device had probably been developed by Irenicus, I guessed. There was a small
trigger, if someone stepped on the stone, it would be pressed. This connected
an attached piece of metal (it was brass) with a long, metallic wire that went
under the floor to an unknown location. I didn’t want to imagine what would be
activated, if the two pieces of metal connected.
But there was something else down there: I saw
a little glass canister in which short lightning was created, probably by
magical means, for I didn’t see any mechanical device. The lightning was then
led onto the piece of metal attached to the trigger. If the metal piece made contact
with the wire, the power of the lightning would swap over onto the wire. That
power was probably used to activate the trap.
She knelt down and looked at the trap.
“Look, you just have to remove that piece of
metal and then the contact will not be made with the wire, when someone presses
the trigger. Or you could change the course of the wire” I explained to her.
“Heh, ya’re right, Darn. It’ll only take a sec.”
Slowly she reached at the wire and began to
bend it, until the trigger could no longer make contact with it.
“OK, all clear now. I couldn’t find anythin’ else, luckily.”
When I looked through the lockers in this room,
I suddenly found something that belonged to me: The helmet of Balduran. That
one I had found back in Baldur’s Gate, together with the cloak belonging to it.
But where the cloak had gone, I couldn’t find out. Still, the helmet was good
enough. Rumors had it that it was magical and protected its wearer quite effectively from harm. I could not possibly tell, but it
had (mostly) brought me luck in battle. And besides, I was simply glad to find
something which reminded me of better times.
Two doors led out of this room. In one we found
a shimmering portal, but it didn’t take us anywhere. Probably a key of some
kind was needed. The other door led into a huge cave, but in this cave grew
trees, which quite astonished me. And there, in the middle of the cave, stood
three astonishing beautiful, graceful creatures: dryads.
They came towards us, but halted some meters in
front of us. One stepped nearer, she had dark, flowing hair.
“Who are you that you wander in this dark place?”
“We’re prisoners and we’re seeking a way to
escape it. Do you know a way out of here?”
She shook her head sadly.
“No, we do not, for we are prisoners ourselves. Prisoners of Irenicus, the evil master of this dungeon. I
see in your eyes that you have met him. He has done something to you, but what,
I cannot tell.”
“Irenicus… His name is Irenicus…” Imoen
whispered.
“He has done something to your mind, I can feel
it” one of the dryads noted.
“Yes, he has… I can feel it inside of me, like
fire, burning, always burning, pain, endless pain, never ceasing…” Imoen continued.
“But perhaps you can help us”, the dryad, who
had spoken first, continued, “As you might know, we dryads are bound to our trees, but Irenicus
has destroyed ours. His druegars have our tree-seeds and if our queen would
plant them and a new tree would grow, we could escape this place.
In exchange I can give you this. Irenicus has
also imprisoned a genie and with it you can free him. Perhaps he can be of some
help to you.”
With this she handed an oil lamp to me.
“Thank you. I’ll try to find those tree-seeds
and will seek your queen. Where can she be found?”
“In the Windspear hills. If you ever escape here, ask the
people on the surface for directions. Oh, and if you want to escape here, you
must go to the end of the cave. There you will find a key which you will need.”
I again thanked them and we continued on. As
the dryad had said, there was something at the other end of the cave. A circular room, filled with beautiful
furniture in elven fashion (which means full of plant-like decorations). I was
quite astonished of this; I never thought that Irenicus had a thing for beauty
or art.
“What’s that, Boo asks himself?”
Imoen answered: “Well, he tol’
me a little ‘f it. He’d a love once, but she left ‘im.
This is a reminder of ‘er and he just leaves it the
way ‘t always’d been.”
“Geez, who
could possibly love a monster like him?” I asked.
Nobody answered to that.
When we stepped into it, a shrill alarm sounded.
“Oh damn, what now?” I muttered.
Imoen began inspecting the room carefully and uncovered some traps. She
also found something else: the key which the dryad had mentioned.
“Perhaps this activates the portal” she
suggested.
“Yeah, that would bring us a step forward.”
When I turned around again, I saw too huge clay
golems rushing towards us. One shouted with an earthy voice: “You have violated the room of the
mistress; the master commands your destruction!”
I knew something about those golems; you could
only them with magical weapons. Again I thanked whatever god was just listening
that I had found this magical long sword. So I, Minsc and Jaheira stepped forward and faced them. Imoen readied her
bow and shot at one of the golems, distracting it for a moment, which gave
Minsc and Jaheira time to attack it.
The other one raised his fist and tried to
smash my shield, but I quickly stepped back and thrust my sword forward into its throat. It definitely
hurt it, but the wound didn’t seem to be fatal. I muttered a curse and stroke,
trying to behead the thing, but my sword didn’t manage to cut its head off
completely. It took some effort to pull it out again and I used the sweep of
the sword to strike at the second golem, which Minsc was already hitting with
his maces and Jaheira with her staff. Another arrow from Imoen pierced the golem.
The first one had collapsed, probably
destroyed. The sword penetrated the golem and sliced through its stomach, but
it didn’t kill it. One of his mighty fists hit me into the chest and sent my
flying backwards, all air was pressed out of the air. I was lucky to not have broken a
rib; my chain mail had protected me. Still, it hurt for days.
Moaning I got up, took my sword again. The
golem was rushing towards me, trying to hit me again, but Minsc stepped into its way and it
turned to him, while Jaheira hit it from behind, which gave me time to get to
my feet. Minsc tried to smash its head with his maces, but without much
success. His weapons weren’t magical. But at least it gave me a chance to get
at the beast from behind, which I did. I thrust my sword deep into it,
penetrating its heart, which killed it instantly.
With a groan I sat down on the floor. Jaheira
stepped over me, took off my chain mail and looked at where the golem had hit
me. The whole skin around my lungs was blue and bruised, my lungs seemed to burn.
“There’s not much I can do but to give you a
temporary bandage of cloth. We don’t have
any herbs and magic wouldn’t help, since you have no actual wound and nothing
is broken. It just hurts. I can do something about the pain, but this will not
last forever. After some hours you will feel it again.”
She conjured one of her druid spells and I felt
energy flowing into my hurting chest. The pain vanished and I sighed of relief.
Out of some clothes she created a provisional bandage, which protected the hurt
area of the friction of the chain
mail.
“Now we just have to find those druegars and this genie” I noted.
“Yeah, but where’re they? We haven’t yet looked
at the part t’ the right. Perhaps we can find
‘em there?” Imoen suggested.
“Better than nothing” I replied.
So went all the way towards the right. We passed a huge library, which reminded me and Imoen of
our home Candlekeep, and after that we came into a storeroom. Several druegar dwarfs were there. And they immediately
attacked us, crying: “The prisoners, the prisoners! Kill them, kill them!”
The little dwarfs weren’t that much of a problem,
especially since they weren’t equipped with much melee weapons. We split and
attacked all of them, before they could fire on us with their slings. They
shrieked and died under our superior melee weapons. Blood covered the stone
floor and I could smell this distinct sweet, sickening smell which covered all
battlefields.
One of them really had the tree-seeds which the
dryads had asked us to find. Now we only had to find this genie. And of course a way out of here.
It wasn’t too hard to find. Just past the storeroom
we found a door which seemed to lead into nothingness. But when we stepped
through it, we found ourselves on a platform floating in the air. I couldn’t
see any ground beneath it.
“Hey, that must be the elemental plain o’ air,
I’ve read o’ it” Imoen exclaimed.
“Yes, I think you’re right. I have heard of it from a mage which traveled
there once” Jaheira added.
At the end of the platform we found a table and
an oil lamp lying on it, looking like the one the dryads had given to me. Out
of it a genie appeared suddenly.
“Ah, I thought you might come here one day. And
I see that you have my lamp with you. I would like to suggest a trade: You give
me this lamp and I’ll give something which belongs to you? How does this
sound?”
I was skeptical: “Well, first, why do you need
this lamp? And second, what exactly do you want to give to me?”
“You’re cautious, good, good.
I need this lamp to free myself. This damned wizard, this Irenicus has imprisoned me
here and if I had my lamp back, I would be free. The object in my possession is
your brother’s sword. Although it has lost some of his power, you still will
find it useful, I guess.”
I nodded.
“Sounds like a fair trade to me. Here’s your
lamp.”
He smiled thankfully and handed the huge
two-handed sword of my brother Sarevok to me. Then he waved his hand and vanished
in a puff of smoke.
I looked at the sword. Its hilt was decorated
with skulls; the blade was still sharp and shimmered darkly. It almost looked as if it was
made to suck one’s life out. A cruel weapon.
Minsc looked at it too.
“Boo thinks, this weapon suits me well. Can I
have it?”
I gave it to him gladly; I never fought with
two-handed swords and preferred long swords and shields. And somehow I didn’t
like the idea of using the sword of my dead brother.
So we headed back to the dungeon and then to
the portal. In front of it, Jaheira suggested that we rest there before facing
whatever lay behind it. We gladly agreed to this, I began to feel the pain in
my chest again.
Imoen was uneasy about sleeping here.
“I… I can’t understand how ya
can do this. I just wanna leave here; this whole
place gimme the chills.”
I sighed: “Yeah, I know what you mean. But
still, I am really tired and my chest hurts from this damn blow the golem gave
me. I really need to rest, I really do…”
“Boo doesn’t look to happy too and I don’t like
it here. But Boo tells me that he doesn’t smell any danger here, at least not
more than anywhere else in this dark place.”
“Ah, come on, girl, I’m tired, damn it! We
should use this opportunity as long as we can!” Jaheira snarled at Imoen.
Imoen grew red, her eyes flashed with anger.
“I’m not a girl, I’m about ‘s
old ‘s Darnoc! And ya
weren’t tortured by some maniac freak for no obvious reason, until ya almost grew insane! Ya
probably just sat ‘n yar damn cell, only worrying about food
an’ water! Ya just don’t understand, I can’t… I won’t…”
She sat down and it seemed to me as if she was
on the verge of crying. Jaheira looked a little perplex at this sudden
emotional outbreak and I saw that she felt a little guilty about her words.
“I… I am sorry. It’s just… oh, damn, I really
fucked this one up” Jaheira said quietly, the last words only muttered.
I understood Imoen, I felt the same way. But my
chest really hurt by now and I was very tired and still weak from the things
Irenicus did to me.
I went over to Imoen, kneeling beside her.
“Hey, you okay?” I said quietly.
She sniffed: “Yeah, don’t worry about me. It’s
just that sometimes I really’d like t’ hit Jaheira.
Sometimes she just drives me crazy with ‘er parenting tone. But ya
understand? I mean, he did the same to ya, didn’t
he?”
I nodded. More was not needed.
We were silent for a moment. Suddenly Imoen
looked directly into my eyes and asked me: “Can ya
promise me something? Will ya try to stay with me,
always? I mean, we both understand each other an’ somehow Irenicus seems t’
have similar interests for us. I don’t understand why, though. But perhaps, if we
stick together, we can figure ‘t out. Perhaps, if we stick
together, we can escape ‘im.”
She sighed.
“I just want t’ find a place where I can find a
little peace. Ya know, someplace quiet, perhaps up ‘n
the mountains. No one around me, all
peaceful an’ quiet. An’ there I can perhaps forget. Yeah, I’d really like that…”
In front of my inner eye I could see it. Jagged
mountaintops covered in snow, a crystal clear lake in front of me, a fast flowing
creek running from the lake down into the valley. Behind me was a wooden
cottage, a fire crackling in front of it, giving warmth, for the wind was chilly, but
fresh, the smell of herbs in it, although the sky was clear and blue. I could see an eagle circling
in it. Imoen sat at the shore of the lake, eating a slice of bread and some
cheese.
“Hey, come here, it’s beautiful!” she called to
me. I smiled, stepped towards her and suddenly the vision vanished.
Instead I was back in the portal room again and
Imoen looked surprised at me.
“Did… did ya see it
too? What was it? The future?”
I shrugged my shoulders. It had seemed so real,
though…
“Well, it probably is a false future anyway. We
will never end up in such a place. It is more likely that Irenicus catches us
again and the torture continues.”
Imoen shook her head.
“Oh, Darn, still the ol’
pessimist. Hey, try t’ not imagine everythin’
negative! There’s a chance we might escape here, so don’t give up yar hope yet.”
I hung my head.
“Im, I just don’t know. It is all so fucked up
and I don’t know what to do. I should know, I should, but I don’t. What should
I do, just what? Help me, please! I seemed to have lost all hope down in this
damn cage Irenicus put me.
I hate him! I want to kill him! I want to tear the fucking heart of this damned son of a bitch out
while he is still alive! I want to do all the things to him he did to me and to
you! I will burn his flesh, I will eat him alive, I
will drink his blood! I will…”
I had stood up while saying this. May face was
distorted into a mask of pure hate and rage, my eyes flashed with murder and
death. The last few sentences I had roared out into the darkness.
The others looked shocked at me. It must have
seen to them as if I had suddenly changed into a demon or something. My whole
body was trembling and the blood left my face, then I sat down again, my eyes
wide of shock.
“I… I don’t know what has just happened.
Something just… well just seemed to explode, to take hold of me. I had visions…
no, no, I can’t, I won’t tell you! Oh, gods, what is happening, what is
happening?”
I had seen blood, rivers, even oceans of it. I
had seen myself, but I was not myself. I was a beast with huge claws and teeth,
demonic, evil, murderous and full of hate, its only purpose to kill without
ending. And I enjoyed it, this is what had shocked me most of all.
I didn’t sleep very well this night.
Imoen:
Getting out
It seemed as if ice would run down my back,
sweat broke out on my forehead. How the hell could they think about sleeping here? Here in this horrible place? I
would never be able to sleep here, out of fear and out of pain, my head still
seemed to burn from the inside, I just wanted to get out of here.
I tried to explain it to them, but for some
things there are just no words. And they just didn’t understand, perhaps couldn’t
understand. Darnoc did, I think, but the others… Darnoc was just weary and injured, he needed to rest, I understood that, but still…
“Ah, come on, girl, I’m tired, damn it! We
should use this opportunity as long as we can!”
Jaheira’s hard words seemed to hit me like a
whip, how could she say such a thing, she hadn’t been through all those
horrors!
So I screamed back at her: “I’m not a girl, I’m
about ‘s old ‘s Darnoc! And ya
weren’t tortured by some maniac freak for no obvious reason, until ya almost grew insane! Ya
probably just sat ‘n yar damn cell, only worrying about food
an’ water! Ya just don’t understand, I can’t… I won’t…”
Fear and pain, Irenicus appearing in my mind, his eyes, his cold
eyes, staring at me, I could see them! I
wanted it to end, I couldn’t keep on anymore, I needed to get out, I needed to escape,
where the hell was the exit? I felt a wave of panic approaching and tried to
control myself, so I sat down and held my head in my hands, breathing deep and
slow, trying to calm down again.
Jaheira noticed my discomfort and probably was
sorry now. Served her right, how I hated her in that moment! Darnoc knelt beside me, looking worried
at me.
“Hey, you okay?”
No, I am not, idiot! Can’t you see that? Don’t
ask any stupid questions and help me to get the hell out of here!
But instead of that I said: “Yeah, don’t worry
about me. It’s just that sometimes I really’d like t’
hit Jaheira. Sometimes she just drives me crazy with ‘er
parenting tone. But ya
understand? I mean, he did the same to ya, didn’t
he?”
He nodded and I hoped that he really did
understand. Again fear swelled inside of me, I didn’t want him to leave again, I was so afraid
to be left alone again, to fall into Irenicus’ hands or some other crazy bastard again.
“Can ya promise me
something? Will ya try to stay with me, always? I
mean, we both understand each other an’ somehow Irenicus seems t’ have similar interests for us. I don’t understand
why, though. But perhaps, if we stick together, we can figure
‘t out. Perhaps, if we stick together, we can escape ‘im.”
Would he be able to fulfill such a promise?
Irenicus was powerful, a lot more powerful than we were. Even if Darnoc tried, he would stand no chance
against Irenicus. We needed to find a place, where he couldn’t find us, ever. A quiet, secluded place, where we finally would find peace, far away from the
problems of the world. Far away from
Irenicus.
“I just want t’ find a place where I can find a
little peace. Ya know, someplace quiet, perhaps up ‘n
the mountains. No one around me, all
peaceful an’ quiet. An’ there I can perhaps forget. Yeah, I’d really like that…”
It was then that I had the vision and Darnoc also. Who had sent it to us, I
cannot tell. Still, it gave me hope in this horrible, dark place.
My feet were bare and inside of water, cold, fresh
water. Looking up I saw mountains, high, covered in snow. They were majestic
and solemn, but the air and the wind, they spoke of freedom and peace. Next to
me was a little wooden plate with some bread and cheese. All was quiet and
calm, for a moment I felt really well, better than ever. I longed for this
place, I believed that there I could forget.
Turning around I saw Darnoc standing outside of a wooden
hut, smiling at me. We together, alone and in peace… We understood each other;
we knew the other, better than anyone else. Somehow I had this longing, which I
couldn’t really place. Something with Darnoc, but what exactly was it? I couldn’t really tell, it was something new. I needed to
think about it.
“Hey, come here, it’s beautiful!” I called to
him and he went towards me, when it all vanished.
It left behind a strange feeling, something
deep inside of me seemed to stay in this beautiful place and would never leave
there, something inside of me longed to go there and be there forever.
“Did… did ya see it
too? What was it? The future?”
Oh, how I hoped that this vision would come
true! And more than that, I wanted… I wished… What exactly did I want? I
couldn’t really tell back then.
“Well, it probably is a false future anyway. We
will never end up in such a place. It is more likely that Irenicus catches us
again and the torture continues” Darnoc answered my question.
Typical of him, always gloomy,
always pessimistic, exactly the opposite of me. He had always made me laugh, especially his
favorite saying: “If you imagine the worst case, you’ll never be surprised.
Often it doesn’t happen and then you say ‘Well, not so bad after all’. And when
it happens, you say ‘Well, didn’t I tell you?’. So you
see, we pessimists are actually happier.” Darnoc was just hilarious and I told him, also that we
would find a way out of here.
He just hung his head and said, first in a
gloomy voice: “Im, I just don’t know. It is all so fucked up and I don’t know
what to do. I should know, I should, but I don’t. What should I do, just what?
Help me, please! I seemed to have lost all hope down in this damn cage Irenicus
put me.
I hate him! I want to kill him! I want to tear the fucking heart of this damned son of a bitch out
while he is still alive! I want to do all the things to him he did to me and to
you! I will burn his flesh, I will eat him alive, I
will drink his blood! I will…”
What the…? What was going on here, no, Darnoc, don’t give in to your father,
don’t let him take over! I was afraid, not for me, but for him. He needed me;
he needed me to stay in control of his inner demons, only I could help him, no
one else. What had Irenicus done to him? Had he increased the evil inside of
him? I couldn’t leave him again, if I did, he might fully turn over to his
father and become just like Sarevok. No, it couldn’t happen, wouldn’t happen,
I would prevent it! I swore to myself to always stay with Darnoc and look after him, to help him
control the evil inside of him, to conquer it.
That night I slept not at all. I was afraid,
afraid of the darkness and the cold, which reminded me of Irenicus. Memories appeared to haunt me, not letting me rest.
And there was the pain, the burning inside of my head, which just didn’t cease.
Darnoc was also sleeping uneasily, I
noticed.
Darnoc: Towards
the exit
Next morning we stepped through the portal.
Immediately we were transported to another place. It was a room similar to the one we had been before, but
there stood someone in this new room. It was a man with brown-yellowish skin,
long, black hair and mustache, slitted eyes, a brown leather armor, a short bow and a katana with decorations
on the hilt. From his look I would have guessed that he came from Kara-Tur.
When he saw us, he stepped towards us and greeted us.
“My name is Yoshimo and it seems as if we are all trapped in this awful place.
Perhaps we could help each other out, for I don’t believe that you work with
our captor.”
“Greetings to you, Yoshimo”, I said, “We would
gladly accept your company, please join us. Any help is welcome here.”
Yoshimo smiled.
“Then thus it shall be. I can tell you that
there are strange beasts in the next room
and machines which seem to create them. From them I fled here. Together we can
perhaps attempt to destroy them.”
“Thank you for the warning, we shall see, what we can do.”
I opened the door to the next room and
immediately saw what Yoshimo had meant. The room was full of mephits and there
were funny cages which spat out more and more of them. The cages had a
generator in them. I guessed that if we destroyed those generators, the
machines would stop working.
So I charged in, swung around and beheaded one of the little
beasts, sliced open the next. Minsc followed me, then Jaheira, Yoshimo and
finally Imoen, who shot the Mephits with her bow. Yoshimo let out a strange war cry; it was a high-pitched, piercing
howl that let your blood freeze. Then he began to use his katana on the mephits
and it was just a joy watching him fight. Quick as a lightning, his katana
whirled around, slicing, thrusting, hacking in
all directions, why he himself danced around in quite an artistic manner. I, Minsc and Jaheira
concentrated on the machines and destroyed them fairly quick. Then we turned
and took on the remaining mephits.
When it was over, I looked around the room. It was dark, only lighted by two torches, and
it was wet. I heard water dropping down somewhere. A huge, wooden table was at the other
end of it, covered in blood (and also smelling of it), chains attached to it
and knives and saws lying next to it on a smaller table. And on it was a body,
some of its parts cut off and lying next to it on the table, the rest covered in blood
and full of scars. I even made out a bucket in which lay the heart, the lungs and the liver. The
belly was cut open and some knives lay beside it, as if the person doing those
things to the body had just left during the procedure.
I stepped closer and stopped suddenly, when I
saw, who it was. Jaheira came up to me, saw the body, then she rushed towards it.
“Khalid! No, Khalid, no! You can’t be dead, you
can’t be! Khalid!”
She took the corpse into her arms and embraced it, weeping.
I stepped up to Jaheira and put my hand on her
shoulder.
“Jaheira, I… Irenicus will pay for this, I
promise you that!”
She said angrily: “Leave me, just leave alone,
I… I… oh shit, why, Khalid, why?”
“Perhaps we can resurrect him somehow?”
She shook her head firmly.
“No, it is no longer he possible. He… he has
been mutilated too much; there’s nothing we can do. I must let go… Khalid, my
love, we will meet again. But your death shall be avenged!”
She stepped away and didn’t look back. So we
didn’t and followed her.
Imoen stepped up to her, though.
“Look, Jaheira, I… I saw ‘im
do it. He showed me, tol’ me
thin’s ‘bout it, he cut an’ cut an’ cut an’ then he
said ‘Look at it, this is that an’ it functions that way’ an’ he didn’t stop,
he just kept on goin’. He bound me t’ a chair, so I’d
t’ watch all o’ it. He just didn’t stop, he didn’t stop…”
“Stop it!” Jaheira screamed, breaking out in tears.
She leaned against the wall and sobbed hard. Imoen tried to put her hand on Jaheira’s
shoulder, but Jaheira pushed the hand away.
“Leave me, just leave me alone…” she whispered.
We waited for her to recover and finally she
wiped away the tears and got up again. She went over to Imoen and looked deep into her
eyes.
“I’m sorry for screaming at you, Imoen. It must
have been horrible, watching all those things and he probably did many horrible
things to you too. I shouldn’t have reacted that way…”
“It’s a’right,
Jaheira. Ya loved ‘im, I
know, an’ it’s hard t’ lose someone. I understand, so don’t apologize.”
Jaheira nodded and then waved at us to
continue.
After crossing several other rooms, some filled
with traps, we finally came to a part which looked different. It looked like we
were somewhere in the sewers of a city. On some gangways we saw several
persons, all covered with black hoods. One of them stepped up to us.
“Yah won’t escape thees
one, fellahrs, yahr master w’ll pay thees time! We’ll win thees guild-war, yahr shall see!”
Imoen shouted at him: “But we’re fleeing from
Irenicus, we were his prisoners! Please, let us go!”
“We won’t fall for yahr
tricks, lassie, don’t try. Yahr all gonna die! Get ‘am!”
And then they attacked. One of them had a bow,
but Imoen reacted quickly and shot him, before he could do any harm. The other attacked us with short
swords.
The leader tried to stab me, but hit him with
my shield, he tumbled backwards. I stepped after him and thrust my sword
through his chest. He gurgled, spat blood and fell backwards on the ground. When I looked around, the other attackers had
already been killed by my companions. Now the way was clear for us, the surface must be near.
When we came nearer to the dark door which led to the surface, we
could hear shouts and the noises of a fight.
And sometimes even the angry cries of Irenicus. Imoen looked fearfully, when she recognized his
voice. Hell, I was quite shocked myself. We had tried to escape and now he
awaited us out there. But perhaps he was occupied with his attackers and we
could slip away unseen? So I opened the door and the bright sunlight streamed
into the sewers.
Imoen:
Getting out
My head seemed to burn constantly from the
inside, the pain didn’t stop. I looked at my companions, especially Darnoc. Did he feel the same? I
couldn’t really tell if he felt anything, he concealed it well with this bitter
and sinister expression.
But this guy Yoshimo… We had picked him up
after entering the portal. There was something about him, something, which
reminded me of Irenicus. He felt like a person, who had been touched by the same
evil as me and Darnoc.
I approached Darnoc and whispered to him: “Look,
doesn’t Yoshimo make ya uneasy somehow? I can’t
really tell, but there’s somethin’ ‘bout ‘im…”
He shrugged his shoulders.
“Can’t tell, Im. I feel nothing. Probably just this
queer place, don’t worry about it. We’ll be soon gone here and we won’t
return.”
I nodded and tried to forget about my worries.
But somehow they wouldn’t vanish; they were still in the back of my head,
lurking there. There was this continuing feeling that something horrible was
going to happen.
Ahead of us I could make out a door, light
shining at its edges. Sunlight. Beautiful
sunlight. But then I heard the noises, battle was going on up there. And the voice… the voice.
“Irenicus! He’s up there, he’s there!” I whispered
in horror.
“He won’t get you, I promise, Im. I would
rather sacrifice myself than let him get his dirty claws back onto you.”
“Ah, stop it, Darn! I can look out for myself!” I snarled at him, anger and fear in my voice.
I immediately regretted my words; actually I
was glad he had said it.
“I’m sorry, Darn, shouldn’t have said that… I really
appreciate it, believe me. But he’s not gonna get
either of us, we’re gonna look out for each other,
right?”
“Yeah, we will, Im, we will…” he whispered and
pushed open the door.
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