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The Rest of the Story	By : Anesor Category: +M through R > Neverwinter Nights Views: 2558 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Neverwinter Nights nor the characters from the game, and I make no money from this.

Chapter List
- 6
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- 8
Many of these characters aren't mine, and used only on loan. Language warning.

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Neverwinter, Sunken Flagon inn - - -

- - - Duncan

I wouldn't have wanted to have admit it, but it had gotten boring again, once my niece and her crew had moved their base to that old Keep beyond the city. They brought a breath of fresh life to my inn, despite the risk of it being burnt from that Qara.

Perhaps a little too much like my brother, in that I'd gotten too comfortable in mourning what I had lost, back in West Harbor and before. While I hadn't lost myself in the Mere and a stiff upbringing for a baby girl, I had become a shadow of my earlier self. I served the drunks and laborers, who didn't care what I was, as long as the ale was strong and the watch stayed away. I'd lost myself in many a keg of ale, after those final losses of our friends in that battle in that tiny village.

Not even an adult yet, by pure elven standards in those days, I could not face adventuring any longer, even though I still looked like almost a teen by human standards. But even a teen with enough money can buy a failing inn in the Docks district, and drink himself into a stupor every day, as long as the ale kept flowing.

Even with the money I'd had, I didn't have enough for a more respectable place in another district. I'd had enough of a shady reputation, from some of my earlier adventures and friendships with some of the Bloodsailors, to get anything better. I had always disappointed Daeghun, as he'd hoped, in that restrained way, that I'd be an honest man, preferably a ranger, like him and many of our kin. But I'd picked up a few rogue tricks as well as I'd been arrested a few times with my friends, and he'd gotten me out. Silently disapproving.

While that reputation hadn't been a problem while we were exploring some dungeon or some old keep, he was always clear he was disappointed in me, even during one of his rare visits to Neverwinter over the last decade.

It was still somewhat of a shock when I'd learned he had not told his foster daughter that he'd had a brother, earlier. I hadn't thought I was that much of a disappointment.

I still didn't know if it was his upbringing or lack of warmth, that sent Elondra down similar roads as me. Unlike me, she'd stayed out of the gangs, but she used the shadows like her friend Neeshka. She was still more a warrior.

I'd been pleased when she'd attracted the attention of that paladin, Casavir. I'd never been happy Bishop was interested, as well, and I was afraid his interest was just to spite me. But nothing seemed to come of either of them, as her opponents, rewards, and responsibilities kept growing. But with that lot always around the Flagon, my sadness about my friends' deaths and my sister-in-law's, finally faded, and ale didn't attract me as much.

Even Sal got carried along in her wake, to finally start an inn of his own in her Keep. I provided enough ale for him to get started, and I'd heard Elondra'd found a dancer or singers to help keep her troops happy. I really could not see Lord Nasher doing that for his troops here.

Here was too quiet these days, as it seemed another war was gathering, a war with armies of undead, with my too young niece in the forefront. And strangely, my brother attached to her Keep, in an odd reversal.

There was talk about evacuating the city, but I wasn't sure where most of these people would go. There really weren't any secondary cities nearby, one of the larger towns was Port Llast. Further from the tainted Mere, but I didn't think Luskan was any less tainted.

Perhaps I would take a page from my niece, and hide.

x x

It seemed only days, and somehow years, as panic started and people were packing up to flee before the official order even came out. My custom had already shrunk, and the port was closing, taking most of the sailors with the last ships out. The people remaining were already getting desperate, as thievery and looting became an issue even as more people packed to go.

I sent my small, and mostly new, staff with a retired Greycloak I knew to a village in Neverwinter Wood to the north. It was away from the path of where most refugees were going, but there were additional forces and powers that claimed Neverwinter Wood as their own. I suspected any army of undead would have more trouble there than they anticipated, as a treant was much more a problem than a field of wheat.

I? I was going to stay here. Here, to protect the only object of value I had. Here where I could hear quicker what was happening to my niece. Here, perhaps to see if I could still defend anything but a moneybox. But this was my home, as ramshackle as it was. I prepared a hidden cellar, with food, bedding, and a continual flame. Otherwise, the Flagon appeared closed, but I kept a back entrance carefully open for any regulars, even though the main doors were boarded shut along with the windows. Nevalle passed by, approving, when I helped pack up a neighbor to go. It looked like he thought I was going too.

Within another day, the city seemed mostly empty. In the wee hours I traveled around the district and saw only a few heat sources, that pure humans would not have noticed.

In the morning the rising sun barely brightened the inn, even through the boards. Looking out one of the tiny windows under the eaves, everything looked dark, especially to the east. This continued all day, seeming worse as the day progressed. Even tracking the time was harder, as the dimmed light made it hard to judge, and watch bells, ships' bells, even the odd clock tower had all gone silent.

The day grew dimmer, and I began to pray to Tymora that my niece Elondra and her companions would succeed and get out alive.

I heard a watch patrol go by and force march one family out of the city, so I retreated to my hiding room after locking and barring the back entrance.

That night I spent feeling full of dread, and proceeded to get shit-faced down in my hole. I could feel the weight of impending doom over everything here, and wondered how bad it was where they were.

Waking late, and painfully sober, I went back up to the door and let a few old friends in to drink the gloom away a little.

But I didn't drink, waiting for something, while praying occasionally to several gods, Tymora, the Morninglord, Sune, and even Tyr, hoping one of them would help them.

Finally, late afternoon the doom seemed to fade a little, and the others drinking all started speaking louder. I had to hush them, reminding them of the evacuation.

By the next day, I had enough people find their way through the almost normal daylight, that I hired a young lad, Dryncer, to watch the door. He'd lived very close all his life, and knew all the locals, despite his wildness, so he could identify who to let in.

His family had fled to Waterdeep and he'd jumped ship for a grand adventure. Watching desperate people get quietly drunk wouldn't seem as much of an adventure, especially once he'd had the chance to clean up after one. I wasn't planning to deny him his adventure.

Half a tenday after the doom faded, a few had snuck back into the city, telling about all the villages away from the Mere being horribly overcrowded. As one of the few places open, I was quite busy, though I still sent up prayers for my niece.

There still had been no news, not even from her Keep.

The rest of that tenday, Lord Nasher returned, as well as more people sneaking back.

Young Neeshka got back the same day as Nasher, before the gates were even officially open.

But she had no current news, all she could tell me was, “I'm sorry, I don't know what happened. The Commander had been alive when we jumped through a gate.”

Her haunted eyes said something else dire had happened.

I got her a mug of something stronger, in the dim corner, where we were talking in a quiet period before the later drinking day started. “Who jumped through this gate?”

“We didn't have much choice, ya see. The roof was collapsing and we were too far underground...” she said, looking into her mug. “Elondra pushed Grobnar just about through the gate first, as he was probably the only one light enough she could do that to. Elanee, Sand, and Khelgar carrying Zhjaeve were next. I went through just as she was telling Casavir to move his ass. But both of them were right behind me.

“That's all I know,” she said sadly before downing her mug. “The gate spit me out somewhere, alone, days ago. I was hoping you'd heard something.”

“No,” I said, looking down into my own ale. Looking back at her, I said, “You're the first one I know of. There only seems to be wild rumors. The only thing I knew, was that the Keep hadn't fallen.”

“It was damn close,” she said glumly.

What bothered me was the names she hadn't mentioned. So I carefully asked, “What about the others?”

With a look of sympathy, she asked, “Are you sure you want to know?”

When she asked that, I knew the worst was yet to come, “Yes.”

“Garius used magic and bindings on me for information to help him plan his attacks,” she said in a pale whisper. Her face had gone almost corpse white against the color of her freckles and hair. “Qara and Bishop joined him of their own free will.”

Oh, gods. I thought the worst he could have done was seduction and abandonment. My niece had been so young when she arrived here. But this was far worse.

“What happened to him? I'll hire someone to hunt them down if they survived,” I vowed.

“I dunno exactly what happened,” she admitted, “I think Zhjaeve was removing the enchantments on me, so I missed part of the battle. What I next saw, Qara and Jerro were just bodies. Jerro had at least the stump of an arrow, but part was also from Qara. Bishop was gone, and there was another arrow in Garius. I really don't know. Bishop nearly killed Qara at least once before Elondra and Casavir and the rest got down to the chamber.”

“...I should have let him die. There were other rangers,” I heard myself utter.

That was the worst mistake of my life, to save the scorpion crossing his burning river.

Neeshka gripped my arm, with a sad smile, and said, “But where would I be if she hadn't given me a chance near Fort Locke? You gave him a chance, his being pond scum isn't your fault. How many give people a second chance? We should drink to that.”

I agreed with her, but nursed a plan to finish that problem if I ever saw Bishop again. Qara was dead, that left only Bishop for my revenge.

x x

Within the next few days, my staff had returned quietly, and more and more people had returned to the city. Some of the Greycloaks had even stopped in for drinks the last couple days before the city gates officially reopened and I could open up my main doors. Sand had survived as well, and returned in better robes than he complained about buying here, and Grobnar returned as well, quiet for him. But they had no additional news, other than their travels, and left quickly for the Keep. To wait there.

I'd actually turned a decent profit during the evacuation, having increased my prices a little, but I was putting it all aside for hiring some mercenaries.

In less than another tenday, Khelgar had returned, by ship. He would be much more willing to tell me more about the battle, especially when I brought a small keg into the back room for our talk.

Careful to speak as to an elder, I asked him after he'd had a few, “What happened at the Keep? I thought your clan-sister had her troops well trained...”

“Aye, that she did. They were as ready and willing as you could hope for mostly untried troops. And they fought well, bless their memories,” he said, looking for once, like the many years he'd lived through.

“Didn't the Keep hold? I know she was selling off many magical items to pay for construction,” I prodded.

He was of a warrior clan, and would see more of what I needed to know. The other three were not fighters, no matter their other skills, and would not understand sieges in their bones, like any dwarf would.

“Nay, nay,” Khelgar said sadly, “The Keep was in good repair. We were ready. That whoreson broke the gate gearing, and had the balls to stay and brag about it.”

Gods, it was worse then I'd heard, “Why didn't I hear this before? Sir?”

“It was the usual tension before battle, but the battle came even sooner. She told us we'd have to be the gate, or all would die. Kept young Casavir from chasing after him right then. But we held the Keep, even though we hadn't known what happened to that brat Qara or poor little Neeshka when the fighting ended. It seemed only minutes later that we went after the damned Illefarn ghost and found them all again.” Khelgar finished his drink and filled it again, even though he surely wasn't happy this time.

“Was it Bishop who broke the gate?” I asked, around my dread. This was even worse.

“Aye, he'd still been stuck with his head up his ass about Casavir and the Commander. Sometimes, it had been funny, watching them try to outmaneuver each other, but it's not funny anymore. The stupid ass thought she'd opened her pants for the paladin just before a siege. As if a good leader would even have much time for that, with a hundred different decisions and defenses to shore up that night. The lad might have made a declaration, but she was on the walls most of the night until the elf just about sat on her to get some sleep. I'd bet my favorite ax that nothing happened between Elondra and Casavir, neither of them looked that happy even before that bastard told us about the gate.”

I wanted to retch, at my one good turn biting me like this. Swallowing my bile, I asked, “What was next?”

Heavily, Khelgar admitted, “I wasna surprised when he appeared out of the shadows with that Garius, nor even Qara. I was shocked to see our little tiefling, with such a blank face. I only heard about half of Bishop's daft babbling, trying to figure out what looked wrong about Neeshka. Quietly, Zhjaeve said that she was heavily enchanted and that I should be ready to restrain her. Then it was just waiting for a few minutes of rest while Bishop tried to justify his betrayals. It was odd he even bothered.

“But that Garius got short with him, and Bishop started to obey even as everything began to happen at once. When next I looked that way, Garius was destroyed, and both Qara and Jerro were dead or dying as some more of them pesky undead swarmed. Zhjaeve was using several spells to free our rogue, all while muttering in some other tongue. We had a very short lull, before the shadow's king arrived. Commander Elondra said Bishop had shot Garius, probably with one of the arrows of slaying he'd had for the bridge. Young Casavir did not correct this, even though he still looked outraged, so something happened while I was distracted. Neeshka was back on her feet, though, and I'd far rather have her at my back than Jerro,” the dwarf admitted.

“Then was this king of shadows and the gates?” I asked him flatly.

“Only one gate, even if we didn't know we were traveling that apart,” Khelgar said with a smile. “Else, we'd have been a fine paste under all those rocks. I'd have never lived it down, in the afterlife among my kin, to be caught like that.”

“So, Bishop survived?” I asked him, not even pretending to hide my interest.

“Aye, the Commander insisted we stay together, and leave the beard snot for later. Killing Garius doesn't balance what he did. I'm not sure how his shot weakened Jerro, but I canna say I'm upset he died, after what he did to Shandra,” Khelgar said glumly, before taking another swig.

I had to close my eyes. I had been attracted to Shandra from the start, but I'd been thinking like my brother, that I'd had time, for she was young. But she hadn't, and I missed that chance. I took a long pull myself. I asked, “You don't know where he is, then?”

Looking off to the east, Khelgar admitted, “No, for all I know, he was squashed when the roof fell. Haven't ye seen him? He lived here.”

I shook my head, and filled his mug again. Too many questions for tonight, I would have to learn more, to find his location and have the money to hire someone very competent. I had a few trinkets, still, that weren't that important to me, and I could visit the moneylenders as well. Sooner or later, Bishop would return to Neverwinter, as he hated Luskans too much to stray further away...

x x

The next day, Khelgar left for the Keep, as had all the others but Sand. Sand had a new spell that let him visit the Keep every few days. In a bit over another tenday, Sand told me that Casavir had arrived at the Keep with a couple of elves. That left only Elanee and my niece as missing, even though we'd all heard that divinations said she was in good health.

What worried me was that good health could also mean a desert island, or slavery in the Underdark. I didn't reduce my prices, and the difference was still going into my mercenary stash.

Days later, early in the day, when I was sweeping out the mess left by the previous night's customers, the door opened and someone entered.

Looking up, I saw at first that it was a trio of elves, looking travel worn.

A second look showed me Daeghun, and a male and female. They all had the armor and stance of rangers, and I felt a pang, again. Would we still be on better terms, if I had embraced nature, as he would have liked?

“Daeghun,” was all I said.

“Duncan,” he said. “Cephirra, Roncletius. Investigating Illefarn shade, assist them.” He managed to make even elvish sound flat and sparse.

He turned to leave again. A precise summary was all he offered, but I was older now and had been through two wars while he lived in his barren swamp and hid from others of his kind.

“No, damn it!” I shouted in common, “I am tired of explaining crap, when you cling to your solitude in that damned swamp! You have no fucking right to keep dumping people on me, and expect me to explain and handle all those little social things you're too self-absorbed to bother with!”

My brother turned back, and with his face still totally blank, said, “Ask, then.”

Why did it have to come to this?

“What do you know about what happened in that damned swamp? What haven't you bothered to tell anyone else, as if you would get some kind of fucking prize for the least words spoken in a year? Do you even feel anything about me or your daughter?” I hadn't meant to say the last, but it came spilling out.

I saw perhaps the tiniest wince from Daeghun, before he responded.

The other two were politely pretending they weren't here.

Flatly, Daeghun said, “Two groups went in. A smaller group of three, and a larger group of eight some time later, though the entire area still stank of the undead. My daughter was in the second group. When I arrived, days later, the ground was collapsed, and only one male's track left the area, which I lost to terrain and time intervening. There has to have been other exits. No living place, that it once had to have been, has only one entrance. Trapped is only safe for so long...”

My brother closed his eyes, opened them again, and continued, still in that flat voice, though I could see a glint in his eyes, “I will find a way in, even if it is too late, that I can only mourn.”

He was damned good at that.

“Go,” I said, barely able to speak, myself. “Go, once you have gotten whatever you needed here. Just don't forget there's more to the world than the damned swamp.”

Nodding, he left immediately. I pinned my hopes to her passing through the gate, even if none had seen it.

Shaking my head, I turned to the other two, and said politely in elvish, “I regret you had to witness that dispute. We have been having difficulties of the last decades, and getting his attention has been difficult.”

Carefully, Cephirra said, “I am sorry your loved one is still missing. It is true that we learned more at the keep than when traveling with him. The paladin spoke far more, despite his sorrow, during our travels.”

“You traveled with young Casavir? How far away did he appear?” I wondered, as simple distance would make her trip back long.

“The High Forest, not that far from Hellgate Keep,” Cephirra said with a slight smile. “He made no complaints at the haste of our journey here.” This was accompanied by a slight smile at Roncletius.

Roncletius looked slightly embarrassed, but only one used to how controlled Daeghun was, would have caught it.

“Was he grieving loss or death?” I asked, hoping they knew. He had warmed over their months here, outside Bishop's company.

“He did not know,” she admitted, “but he regained hope when we arrived at the keep.”

“Enough of this. What do you know of this curse from the old empire?” Roncletius demanded.

Sighing, I told them of what I knew, and that the old mage Aldenon might know more. I mentioned Sand and his shop, and Roncletius looked disgusted. I also mentioned that there might be more information in official records that my niece grumped about once. At this evidence that their stay would not be brief, he looked irked. Cephirra looked pleased.

I could easily understand that, and offered them rooms. Her companion had spent the time sniffing around the common room and plainly could detect where Bishop's companion had habitually stayed near him. I didn't see if Roncletius had one.

They left to find Sand first, and Cephirra threw an amused shrug as they left. I almost would like to see the confrontation between the taciturn ranger and more social Sand, but I was sure he'd tell me later.

Early in the evening Cephirra returned, without her partner, he much preferred camping than staying overnight within the city. In an odd switch she spent the evening watching the usual crowd from Bishop's old spot. Maybe her presence would clean it somehow. Within a day, they were studying from Sand's apparently copious notes about the former guardian, and he was plainly looking forward to introducing Roncletius to Aldenon, when Sand stepped over for a visit and a drink.

Cephirra asked suspiciously after Sand had left, “Why was this Sand pleased?”

Smiling myself, I admitted, “Aldenon is nearly senile. He knows many things no one else knows and seems to have never taken an apprentice. So any who want the information must deal with him. He has protections, and servants, and luck of the gods, but learning anything from him quickly is not going to happen.”

“Oh my,” Cephirra said with a grin, “Ron is not going to like that. Are you sure there is no one else with this information?”

“Yeah. Aldenon can be formidable if you get his attention. I remember when he bought his mansion, only a few years before I bought this inn. He was distractable then, especially by a pretty face like yours, but even more by a pile of old tomes. He'd always buy any old tomes found by adventurers passing through...”

Soon enough, I was talking about my days adventuring, and asking about life in the High Forest, and it was a pleasant evening. She had nearly the same experiences growing up with the Wild elves there as I'd had with my brother. I know I felt better, realizing that it wasn't just me.

We saw a bard performance and ate at the Mask, and talked about almost everything but why she'd come here. Days turned into tendays, and I'd learned the lesson of my human side, and didn't wait, as I had with Shandra.

There was still no news of my niece, nor even of Bishop.

Once they'd learned all they could from Sand, it took several tendays to get information from Aldenon. They were long enough at that, that Sand had gotten permission for a brief session in the Greycloak archives. Roncletius had been eager for a different source, it was the work of only a day to fill in a few more facts from before Sand joined them.

Satisfied late that afternoon with what they'd found, Roncletius declared in the Flagon that it was time to return home and report. He then left us with a snotty look, familiar enough to me from Sand.

“Are you sure, you wouldn't like to stay?” I asked again. I had suggested it after a particularly good day a tenday before.

Smiling faintly, Cephirra said, “I'm sorry. I enjoyed visiting your city, but I need the forest too. Are you sure you wouldn't like a new life?”

“I'm sorry,” I echoed. “I enjoy the woods too, but I need new faces. I want to know what happened to my niece, and sometimes even worry about my brother. I have to stay.”

With one last kiss, she said farewell, and left with her companion. The next day, I cleaned up the few small items she'd left in my room, and put them in a small finely carved chest, wishing her well in my thoughts.

I still didn't know what happened to my niece. I had feelers out for someone who did “work.”
- 6
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