Adult-FanFiction.org : Games

Stockholm Syndrome	By : BlueSchmoo Category: +A through F > Baldur's Gate Views: 5857 -:- 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.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Chapter 5.

Imoen crept along the hallway. She came to a junction where she could either continue on to her left, or go through a door to her right. For no particular reason she chose the door. Opening it a fraction, she peered in, only to be disappointed. Inside there was nothing but more tables, some crates, and a solitary glass holding tank. Bubbles streamed from whatever creature lived inside there. She did not have time to search every crate, as she was worried the Invisibility spell would time out, and there was nothing there that would help her at this point in time, so she closed the door and moved on.
The passageway continued for a short bit, then curved sharply. Peeking around the corner, she was startled to see a cluster of goblins loitering in the hall, their weapons not at the ready, but close at hand. Some had bows, but most carried the battle-axes that their kind favoured. There was a chance she could sneak past them, as they would not be able to see her, but she hesitated. Even though they could not see her, they couldsiblsibly smell her, or feel the heat emanating from her body at such close quarters. She chose to go forward anyway, as she could see the hallway split again, and she thought she saw another door just a bit further on. If she was here to look for her friends or find some sort of exit, then she would have to take her chances, she rationalized.
She started forward, and was in the midst of passing between the first few goblins when to her dismay, the door she had spotted at the end of the hallway opened, and Jon exited, a dark look on his normally calm, arrogant face. Looking around she knew she was in a bind � Jon would walk forward any second and run right into her, or else she would bump into one of the goblins trying to get out of his way, which would set off a panic. She knew that even thought she was not visible, she was still tangible.
Quickly, she backed up, and turning, walked forward down an adjacent passage. To her relief, it doubled back to where the door was, allowing her access to it without having to pass in front of Jon. She watched as the necromancer paused and glared at the goblins in front of him, and in response, how they backed up in reverence. So, he commanded all of the creatures that existed here, did he? That was good information to know. She would have to avoid letting herself be seen at all costs, as she doubted anyone living down here would help her.
Waiting patiently, she timed it so that when Jon moved to walk forward, she snuck around his back and quietly went through the open door. She made it through without his noticing she realized, much to her relief. The room was brightly lit with numerous candles set into the walls. She looked around, and was immediately flooded with memories of her childhood.
The room was a library of sorts, and it reminded her of Candlekeep where she grew up. There were walls upon walls ooksookshelves, and she fought the urge to go rifle through them. Damping her enthusiasm, she looked around. There was some sort of black winged creature hovering to her right. It did not appear to see her, however it did flutter around a bit, as if agitated, sensing that something was near it. Imoen wanted to get away from it, so she went in the opposite direction, heading past the bookcases, and down another passageway.
She quietly rounded the corner when she came upon a square room filled with dwarves. Not just any dwarves, but deep dwarves � Duergar. She stopped in her tracks. They had not noticed her yet, and she kept as close to the walls as possible. They were working on repairing some damaged armour and weaponry, and did not notice her presence. Imoen spotted a sling on the table furthest from her, and she fought the urge to run and grab it. As she cautiously crept forward, her foot accidentally kicked a small wooden chest that lay beneath the table, sending it sprawling. She muffled the sound of surprised pain, but it was too late. Three of the dwarves that were closest to her looked around, trying to locate the cause of the sound. One of them ran off and spoke with a Duergar draped in dark brown robes.
Imoen rapidly backed up, but the passageway she had just came down seemed so far away. She heard the sound of an incantation starting, and looked over her shoulder for thurceurce. Much to her dismay, she saw a mage Duergar shooting a purple ray of energy towards her, and she tried to duck, falling to the floor in her effort. The ray caught her in its range, however, and looking down Imoen was horrified to realize she could see her hand and arms start to appear. The mage must have cast Detect Invisibility, and revealed her. She was frozen to the spot in fear until his scream of outrage released her.
"Whaaaat! An intruder? Get her! Kill her!" he screamed in his thick Dwarven burr. At this command, Imoen scrambled to her feet and ran for the passageway just before her. She had no idea how she would be able to pass by the winged creature in the library, or face all of the armed goblins, but she had to get away from the dwarves. These thoughts ran through her mind in a blur, as she desperately searched her mind for an appropriate area spell to cast on the dwarves behind her. She had no chance to select one as multiple bolts were released from crossbows, catching her squarely in the back and leg. On top of that, she felt the searing energy of Magic Missiles as they descended on her, hitting their mark as always. Under the onslaught, she fell heavily, crashing to the floor.
The pain wracking her body was immense. She had come very close to dying a few times before when she and Damien were adventuring around Baldur�s Gate, but nothing came close to this. As she lay thrashing in agony on the stone floor, the sound of feet approaching forced her attention upwards. She rolled over onto her side, and looked up to see one of the dwarves standing over her, his crossbow aimed directly at her heart. At such close range there was no way he could miss.
"Another one of those damn Shadow Thieves would be my guess," he said to the mage behind him. "Where there is one, there is bound to be others. Should I alert the Master?" he asked.
Imoen felt the warmth of her blood seeping out and starting to pool beneath her, and watched through dimming eyes as the squat Duergar mage walked over to look her sourly in the face.
"It better to beg forgiveness, than ask permission, I always say. Finish her off, then go find him."
She heard the distinctive thunk as the bolt was released from the carriage, and pierced her soft flesh. In her last dying breaths, she thought to herself that this is what she deserved. This was retribution for allowing the being to die earlier on in the day.
There was only one thing she could do at this point. Father, help me, she thought desperately. She felt deep down inside her for any truth to what Jon had said. She waited for what seemed an eternity for an answer to her cries for help. None came.

He lied to me, she thought. I called for my father�s power, but he did not answer.

Jon lied to me� it was her last thought before her eyes closed for the last time.
**~**~**
Jon was furious with himself. First, for allowing Imoen to leave his sight, and secondly, for underestimating her skills. Not as a mage, but as a thief. Never again would he make that same mistake, he swore, his hands clenching and unclenching in anger. He had searched everywhere, but was unable to find her. He even went to the holding room, where the captives were caged and tried to pry information from Jaheira and Minsc without revealing that it was Imoen he was searching for. He received no useful information.
It was not until that foolish dwarf came to inform him that they had caught a Shadow Thief in the Duergar work area that he suspected the worst. Venting his anger on the messenger, he took the few precious seconds necessary to cast Horrid Wilting on the Duergar. Jon did not stop to see if the dwarf would survive as his flesh began to shrivel and desiccated before him. He immediately cast Dimension Door and transported himself directly into the Duergar section.
Looking around the room he spotted Imoen laying motionless on the floor by the entrance way to the library. Blood had pooled beneath her, but it no longer dripped from her body. It was obvious she was very dead, and had been so for s while. His exterior visage of cold, detached calmness never faltered, but for the briefest of moments, his heart froze in his chest. He walked over to her and knelt down to inspect the wounds on her body. He was immediately filled with a sense of both relief and anger. Relief at the fact that her body was, for the most part, intact, and so he would be able to Raise her from the dead. Anger at the fact that he should never had allowed this to happen in the first place.
Picking her small, lifeless body easily from the floor, Jon turned to face the Duergar mage, who was standing there smugly, expecting praise for the capture of the thief.
"I will deal with you later," Jon swore, his voice colder than the breath of a winter wolf. He quickly strode out the passageway towards his laboratory. He needed to get her there so he could remove the bolts from her body before Raising her.
Entering the room that housed most of the rejected clone bodies, Jon realized he had not yet removed the dead body off the table from earlier. Cursing, he turned around and headed towards Rielev�s room. Kicking opening the door, he walked in and placed Imoen�s dead body carefully on her side on the table, so as not to force the bolts further into her back. He immediately set to checking the status of her wounds. Her clothing was stained, and the dark blue material of the gown hid the seriousness of the wounds. In frustration Jon reached out and taking the neckline of the dress in handhands, he ripped it apart at the side seam, throwing the torn material to either side of her body. In the dim light of the room he looked down onto her tiny form. oticoticed her one perfect breast, which stood out in stark contrast to the mangled one over her heart, where the bolt had pierced it. He lightly caressed her cold flesh, feeling the tautness of her firm body. He doubted he would ever get the chance to see her in such an exposed fashion again.
He purposefully ignored his growing interest in her nakedness, and set about examining her damaged body objectively. Her most serious wound was the one through her heart. Jon grabbed the bolt and with slow, constant pressure he removed it, trying to prevent as much collateral damage to the organ as possible. He tossed the bolt away, and it lande the the ground with a wet thunk. Next, he turned her carefully, and removed the bolts that ran through her back, upper thigh, and calf. Checking her over from head to foot once more, he was satisfied that all physical bolts were removed. He noticed the scorched area around her chest where Magic Missiles must have hit her. There was nothing he could do about that.
Standing, Jon backed up, and prepared to form the mental pattern necessary to Raise Imoen back to life, but he paused, thinking. He had an opportunity before him. Was there a better way to do this that he could somehow use to his own advantage?
Imoen�s body was dead, and therefore, it would be easier to reanimate her as an undead creature. This would result in him having complete control over Imoen, and therefore he could command her to do whatever he wished. However, what he did not know was if in the process of reanimating her, would she loose all ties to her Divine potential? He knew if he Raised her soon enough, that for sure the god�s ece wce would not have left her.
Jon shook his head. There was no option left open to him. He would not chance losing her, or the Divine life force that waited within her. He would have to raise her rather than turn her into one of the undead. Calmly, he straightened, and began to form the spell that would raise her from the dead.
- 4
- 5
- 6
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Stockholm Syndrome