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The Rest of the Story	By : Anesor Category: +M through R > Neverwinter Nights Views: 2557 -:- 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
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Only one character is mine, but she would deny it before messing up my song shuffle.

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Parts Unknown - - -

--- Grobnar

I nearly giggled as the gate energies surrounded me when I went through, running as fast as I could. The Commander had almost thrown me through, and I had barely touched ground as I fled. I took a couple more steps, and decided that the leafy ferns looked quite comfortable, and sat on them. I hurt everywhere, but didn't see anyone around me. I saw no gate, no paladin, no Commander, no funny tiefling. I was alone in a deep woods clearing.

Almost I wanted to sit there and cry, but I was still bleeding through my clothing in several places and I couldn't hear right out of one of my ears. I couldn't even remember if I had any healing potions left. I tried to hum a healing and my voice-box only made this funny gargling sound.

I tried to laugh at that but couldn't, when I heard someone else casting a healing, a major one.

Feeling the touch of a proper hand on my shoulder, I stopped moving as my sight came into better focus and my wounds stopped hurting. Once the spell was done, I tried to hum and was so happy I could, that I did a few bars of my favorite Wendersnaven tune.

“Oh, please! I'd much rather know why you came alone through a quick gate, and reek of shadow energy,” a female's voice said. She had a very slight accent to her words that wasn't from the Sword Coast at all.

“I shall compose a tune for the invisible healer in the woods!” I told her. This could be exciting, too.

An older, female halfling appeared, who was a bit on the tall side. Dressed in light armor, she was armed with a short sword. She just did a full heal as smartly as any, and was smiling grimly at me.

I bowed, saying, “Grobnar Gnomehands, at your service! And may I know the name of my rescuer? So I can compose that ode!”

“Phremedi of Opal Misted Sky,” she said with some impatience.

“Oh, that's a lovely name, much prettier than many place names. It just trips off the tongue. No, it ripples,” I decided. “Waterdeep isn't that great, and the conjugations are a nightmare. Some like Llorkh, Red Fallow's Watch, and Kryptgarden Forest have a ring to them. Luskan sounds like some skin condition, perhaps a good thing if you saw it on a map... Crossroad Keep, West Harbor, the Crags, Stone Bridge, Cold Wood, and so many more, all so bland, like these people were drunk when they named them or just plain ran out of words. Have you had any grand adventures? That place name cries out for a good song.”

“Why do you play the idiot?” she said, complete with the voice color and glare of a disapproving gramma...

I stopped and could feel myself flush, for the first time in years.

Phremedi continued with one raised eyebrow, “Do you do that babble to your friends, too? Oh, I see you do. Okay, I want you to think of someone you respect, who's one of the tall folk, maybe.”

Closing my eyes, I thought. That was easy, the Commander or Casavir should qualify. I wondered what game this was, and started to smile.

I felt a slap on my hand when she said, “No game! I want to know this, but you need to know this! Was this person ever silly?”

Sir Casavir was out for this, so I said, “The Commander, one time, made the two of them...”

Phremedi, with another rap on my knuckles spat out, “Focus. I only asked a yes or no question. Don't dribble at the mouth. But was he silly all of the time?”

“...No.” I admitted, feeling very small and wanting to hide my knuckles.

“Did anyone fail to take him seriously, even after the silliness?” she said sternly.

“No, even our mage approved when she...”

She interrupted me with another near knock on my fingers, “Think about it for a while. Quietly. I have some devotions to do.” She rubbed her forehead like it hurt, before unpacking a small, plain traveling altar and began to pray.

I looked around again. This looked to be a deep woods, in very early spring morning.

“Focus!” came from the altar.

I closed my eyes and thought. I expected it from Master Sand, Master Khelgar, and even the late Master Jerro, but the Commander, too, got annoyed with me when we were looking for the Wendersnaven. Everyone was either short-tempered or mean when we went, though I was excited by what we had found. And even the Commander had gotten peeved on that trip. Was I being too silly? I thought a while. It was only a fun game, but it seemed no one else was playing. We had lost the rules somewhere along the way.

After a bit, I looked over to the cleric, and saw the engraved symbols visible in the low light. A raccoon mask... but that was.

“That was a good joke, Ma'am! Wildwanderer!” I laughed and said in gnomish.

She turned around, and said sadly in the same language, “No, it's not completely a joke. It seems that the only way I can be taken seriously is to not be a gnome in Faerun. Human children got more respect it seems from everyone. Why is that? Do you people play fools, even when alone?”

I thought and admitted slowly, “Yes, we do. It becomes habit, you see.”

“But why!?! Everyone I met here thought I was either insane or the most careless fool possible with everyone's safety. I got run out of one town because of some golem getting loose years before,” she admitted, looking angry and offended. “And all I offered was a healing potion for a farm injury!”

“I'm sorry ma'am, I'm sorry...” I was shocked, seeing it from an outsider's view suddenly. I'd never met another who didn't play the fool, we all did it to some degree. I was so used to being considered silly, I never expected anything else.

She looked a trifle calmer, seeing my reaction, but added, “Being a fool can be a protection for the young, but what happens when a threat becomes dire? When you need to fight, or work with the tall folk? They will care less, and help you less when your people need it. You won't be able to help as well either when it really counts.”

“Well,” I said brightly, “we did just defeat the King of Shadows, spreading out of the Mere. There were bunches of him and...”

“'We,' you said?” she asked sharply, “Did the others listen to your ideas and value your contributions?”

“The Knight Commander did!” I insisted.

Slowly, and spaced out like Master Sand sometimes did, she asked, “But did anyone else?”

“...no.”

“What was that?” Phremedi asked sharply.

“No. Some of them, including that nasty Mr. Bishop said they'd throw me into battle first,” I said, blinking my eyes and remembering that last fight.

“And if this so-called king had won, how long until he reached gnomish towns or mines?” she asked, sounding like a tutor.

Quietly, I said, “Months, maybe less.”

She asked sadly, “So how would you have served your people and the greater good, if they hesitated to trust a fool?”

I couldn't find anything to say and wanted to cry.

Sighing, she asked, “Come, child. Where do you need to go?”

“Crossroad Keep, near Neverwinter,” I told her after taking a deep breath.

“Hmmph. Never heard of them. But we're a day or so out of Innarlith, I'll help you get home faster, lad,” she told me.

“I haven't been this far away before. I hope they're okay...” I said.

Phremedi mused, “I did want to see as much of the Realms as I could. This should qualify, alright.”

So we began to walk and reached a road in a little bit. She pointed out our turns, and didn't seem to walk as fast as I. Asking if I had a light item, she gave me a couple glowing pebbles to tie to my bootlaces. These pebbles didn't flicker as Zhjaeve's spell did.

I had to ask, “Where are you from?”

“Very far, but still on the Prime. It's easier to travel to other planes and then here, than even to use a magical ship to travel here. I've been to over a dozen planes, usually only grouped as 'fun,' or 'places I'd really rather never see again.' I do have a kip on another plane, but I still stay near home most of the time. I will probably travel more once my human friends pass on,” She looked sad when she said that.

Yes, I would be sorry to say goodbye to the Commander and Sir Casavir. I wouldn't mind not seeing Mr. Bishop ever again.

I asked her about her travels, and the stories of which more than filled the rest of our walk that day, and we camped. She brought out piles of blankets and pillows out of her magic bag.

“Don't you ever look like yourself?” I had to ask.

She grinned, “My own bad habit. In my land, gnomes are almost all illusionists. Perhaps we, also, get too caught up in fads. I will have to speak on this at home as well. But, if they see me, they expect illusion. But considered tricky is better than being treated as fools, even by potential friends. At home I've pretended to be elven, but the whole moon-sun elf thing here got too hard to fake. Here, halfling seems a better choice...” Her appearance changed with every few words to elven, to human child, to dwarven, to halfling, to a stern and tall, elder female gnome, who bowed to me, and asked if I had rations. She provided some as I was out.

Casting some kind of warding spell, she settled in to sleep. As I settled I decided again she was a little scary, reminding me of my great-aunt, once removed, Lendicia.

The next day, as a halfling again, we arrived at Innarlith where she asked for map dealers, jewelers, and mage shops. The people she spoke to ignored me, even when I tried to speak. Selling the gems for local coins, she bought a map that looked nice, verifying with me that the section containing Neverwinter was reasonably accurate. She bought scrolls and potions, as well as lunch.

Once at a nice inn, she said, “We can start in the morning if you need to restock. I'll get a room in your name. Shoo, shoo!”

I left wondering what I should buy. I didn't keep much money, as I always spent too much on projects like my construct. The Commander kept mine for me and bought the things I needed for my lab, but I didn't know where she was.

I'd rarely worked at inns, the take had never been that good for me unless another bard was being front man. Another example of how playing the fool cost me. I might as well go back inside.

She was sipping on a hot drink while studying the scrolls, and asked, “Back so soon?”

I admitted, “I'm broke, the Commander kept my funds for me.”

“Hmm, is he honest with them?” she said off-handedly, looking at the scale of the map.

“Oh yes, Ma'am. I'm sorry, the Commander is a human female. But she got me more equipment than my share would have been, and found parts for my golem as well,” I smiled, remembering how much fun tinkering with it had been.

“Ah, a good commander then,” she mused. She dug in a pouch and slid me a few gems. “Pass it on to someone else who needs it, when you have it. Shoo, boy. Get some air. Get some more life in your eyes. Buy something sweet.”

I went out to the shops, and the purchases did not go well for me when I was alone. Lesson learned. I wasn't able to magically change my appearance very long, so I'd have to try to be more careful in how I acted and selecting music. Maybe if I used a disguise to look older?

Going back to the inn, Phremedi had taken over a corner table for her study of the map, “There you are, lad, we should be able to get you back home in about a week or two, if this map is accurate.” At my expression she added, “A bit over a tenday, I meant. We'll partly walk in another plane, it'll be much faster.”

The trip, as they might say, was swift and uneventful. She asked about the King of Shadows and the war. That took much of our travel time. She also asked more about the Sword Coast. I spent the evenings noodling some new tunes, ones about the Old Owl Well and Ember seemed the most promising. The final battles, in the Keep and against the King, were still too disturbing to think about. I still couldn't believe they'd turned on her. I'd been threatened all the time, but it was never very serious.

Like the way Master Khelgar bickered with Miss Neeshka. Wait, he's the King of his clan now. I should do a good song about that, too. The list of songs I wanted to do was getting so very long, it might take me years to catch up.

Even more distracting was the chance to learn some music from so very far away while she was here. She even hummed a few new tunes for me as we walked, and apologized she couldn't do them justice. She used a scroll to create a small group of bards for a couple more tunes she's enjoyed.

The next day, she asked about the others as we walked. So I told her about them, from the merry, sad tiefling, to the forlorn paladin, to the hollow and bitter ranger.

She carefully asked, “Will you write their tale in your usual style?”

“No, I'm going to leave off the Wendersnaven tunes, unless I'm home. Also they deserve a tale anyone would admire, especially if it's only a tribute. They pushed me through the gate first, and they didn't come through with me,” I said sadly.

Phremedi let me mourn a time. Briskly, she then said, “I'm glad you want a serious tribute. It may take time for people to trust your judgment,” she reminded me.

“I know, Ma'am,” I tried to say meekly, though I also didn't want her to smack my hands again.

“We should reach your city tomorrow,” she said after checking the map. “I'll tell you some tall tales of my friends. The warrior, who thought he could do a one man pincer movement, and the other who was kind of animated undead and talked to us as we tried to get him back for a true resurrection.”

Her tales were kind of silly sometimes, but they had strange lands and many battles. The next day, we reached the outskirts of Neverwinter.

She asked, “Do you need assistance getting to your keep?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” I admitted carefully. “It depends on whether any of the others have gotten back yet. Sand has a shop here, and the Commander's uncle has an inn here.”

“Hmm, almost always a good investment,” she said. “And safer for the neighbors, if drunken adventurers are there to be contained or help with containing trouble. So, lad, this may be farewell. It's just about time for me to leave the Realms. It's sad that those who should be my kin have taken a joke too far. I've gotten more respect from Tanar'ri and Baatezu than from people here. That kind of contempt is poisonous, so don't encourage it... which way to that mage's shop?”

“Thank you for all your help, Ma'am. This way,” I said, trotting towards Sand's shop. Once at his shop, I was so happy to see Sand was there, and ran to hug his leg.

He looked down at me, and said dryly, “I suppose this means you are happy to see me, gnome? And two of you?”

Phremedi laughed, “The Realms are not kind to gnomes, this has been much more convenient. I'm Phremedi, of Baervan.”

Sand asked, “Planewalker?”

At her nod, he asked me, “How far distant were you?”

“Far away, near Innarlith,” I said, trying not to bounce. “Where is everyone?”

Phremedi started looking over his stock, and started pulling out scrolls and eyeballing a small spellbook in a case.

Sand replied, “I'm sorry bard, but you're only the third of us back. Neeshka is the only other one who's returned, and she's staying at the Keep right now.”

“A..are they alive?” I needed to know.

“Yes, some. I hired two divinations in Tymora's temple less than a tenday ago. Commander Whyntll and Casavir are living, and they would have been the last out. Why didn't you ask her?” Sand asked, waving at my friend Phremedi.

I toed a line in the floor, and said “I didn't think of it, and she's been smacking me like my great-aunt, if I act like an idiot.”

“Well? Are. You. Going. To. Ask?” the elf was clenching his teeth again in annoyance, frustration, or anger.

Sighing, I asked, “Ma'am, could you do a divination for me to find out?”

“Of course, lad. You had only to ask. What specifically, do you want to know?” she said with a smile.

Sand started to interrupt, before I could say even a word.

Saying something short to him in a language that flowed like elvish, but wasn't quite, she said to me, “Lad?”

I asked her, “Can you check on everyone's health but Neeshka and us?”

When I looked at Sand. His face was blank.

“Of course,” she said.

She cast her spell, which was somewhat different than the one Zhjaeve used. Asking first about the Commander, then Sir Casavir, Khelgar, Elanee, Zhjaeve, and looking out the corners of her eyes at us, Bishop.

I asked her, unbelieving, “Why him? He tried to hurt us, killed Master Jerro, and worked with the Shadowking? I told you all about it!”

“You're young, still,” she sighed. “And magic and dumb choices can make you do stupid things. Twice, I almost killed my entire party, all by myself while under domination magics. The sad part is, that I really enjoyed it. And I died once or twice that way when others messed up badly. Once you've fought with someone for a while, you'll never be completely separate again, whether either side likes it or not. That he could even be convinced to leave at all, means it's not that simple. Our mage kept wanting to raise an army of undead squirrels, ticking off most of us, including a knight much like your paladin. After long enough, and it became a running joke.” She finished, “Plan ahead, for you will find him or he will find you, by design or bad luck.”

Sand asked carefully, “And the result?”

“They are all healthy now. I feel things will be well again, but that is not as sure, being just a feeling and not one of my questions,” she admitted. “As it were, I'd like to make some purchases, mage, and learn of any other good places for new spells, before I leave.”

Dryly, he said, “I might be more interested in trade...”

I sat down to think, and tinker with the Ember melody, while they negotiated. Once done with their trade, she said farewell, and stepped out onto the street.

Once it was just us, I asked Sand, “What was that she said to you?”

Snidely, he said, “Words to the effect that you were being schooled to think more, and that I should not interfere.”

“She's been trying, but decades of habit are hard to resist,” I said.

“Any improvement would be a splendid thing, and welcome,” Sand said wryly.

I winced.

He continued, “Do you want to go back to the Keep tonight?”

“Can it be later?” I asked hopefully. “I'd like to say goodbye, if she comes back. She reminded me of my family...”

Amused, he said, “But they never sounded as competent.”

“That's what she wants me to work on,” I replied, knowing how hard it was going to be.
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