Crumbling Down is a fan novelization of BG2:SOA. It very closely follows an actual game play-through; that is to say: if in my playing a character died, they die in the story. If a subquest triggered in the game, it became part of the story, etc. This combination of close fidelity to the game but with enough artistic license to make it new and interesting even for veteran players, is (hopefully) unique to fan novelizations.
This was originally written back years ago, but never finished, since I went back to school to get a Masters' degree and started writing my own original novel. Now that school is almost finished and my novel is making good progress, I've gone back and re-editted the earlier chapters and sketched out the extension of the story to its eventual end. Thus, new stuff is on the horizon!
Updated every Monday on my blog, in sections of approximately 10 printed pages each. Please read the Disclaimer.
Chapter 1: The Hunt (part 1)
(Major changes/edits in this chapter: none [minor typos, word choices, etc.]. Warnings for this chapter: violence. Actually, that goes for ALL chapters, so expect it. In Cassandra's words: "We're warriors, Jaheira. Murder is what we do." Future sections will have fragments posted, but primarily hosted on my website.)
She stood before a memory. The gates of Candlekeep, her childhood home, yawned wide before her. The twin crimson standards of the great library hung limply on either side of the entrance, but the doors were gone. The guards were gone. The sights and sounds and smells of childhood were gone, from Hull?s good-natured shouting to the stink of Dreppin?s cows. The great keep was empty and hollow.
Cassandra reflexively tapped her palms against her hips, chest, and face. The sheath of her sword, heavy with its steel, clanked against the hardened leather cuisse and greave which protected her leg. A chainmail shirt protected her breasts, but the metal of her glove was cool against her bare cheek. No helm. Partially armored, then, and partially armed.
She glanced around. She was alone. She?d had dreams like this before, but this one seemed different. A stale wind struggled to lift the red-gold strands of her hair, and she tucked them back with a faint expression of distaste. The scent of decay was in the air.
?Do not fight.?
Cassie whipped around, yanking her sword from its sheath despite the trembling fear in the words, and then nearly dropped it in shock. Imoen stood before her, frail and shivering against the empty backdrop of the keep?s outer grounds. Imoen, whom she?d spent the last month struggling, clawing, and ripping her way through Faerūn to find again ? Imoen was here. Tears of joy and relief blurred the figure before her into a palette of pastel, threatening to wash the vision away as suddenly as it?d come.
?Imoen?? She sunk to her knees, the sound of her armor echoing against the walls, and took her sister?s hand in hers. ?Imoen, I?m here.?
She was ignored. Imoen continued speaking in the same halting, far-away voice. ?Do not fight. To fight is to lose. Come to me.?
?I?m here.? Cassie held the younger woman?s hand to her cheek, letting her feel the wetness there. ?I?m here, I promise. I won?t leave again.?
?You cannot fight alone. Find me within.?
The faded watercolors of Imoen?s form began to disintegrate. The tips of her hair broke into multi-colored dust, stolen away in the decay-laden wind along with her clothing, her skin, and her voice. Cassandra clutched the hand she held tighter, only to feel it fracture and shatter under the pressure. It, too, began to slip through her fingers like so much sand, and the blue-eyed warrior grasped at the grains in disbelief.
?No! Don?t leave me!?
Her sister?s form wavered, shimmered, and then tumbled into nothingness as the wind greedily stole the last precious shards.
?Imoen!? Cassandra threw the sword into the dirt and screamed her name into hateful silence of the keep. No answer was forthcoming. Her eyes burned as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks and spattered into the lifeless dust below. She struggled to control the heaving and shaking in her chest.
Control. It wouldn?t stop the pain, but it would push it aside and make it manageable. Control would blunt the edge of despair?s teeth until another time. Her body trembled and breath caught in half-choked sobs as her mind repeated its mantra. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in.
The mantra continued, and somewhere in the darkness of her soul a spark ignited. Rage was kindled, fueled by frustration and stoked by helplessness. Now each breath brought a hot flame of anger, each higher and hotter than the last. It wasn?t fair. It wasn?t fair to be so close, to have come so far, and be denied. It wasn?t fair to have sacrificed so much and so many only to again fall short. It was not fair, and she was not going to have spilled so much blood for nothing.
She grasped the hilt of the sword and levered herself to her feet. Her eyes still stung, but she used it as motivation. She hurt, and she knew why. She knew who to blame. Her blood tingled throughout her veins and she advanced through the gates with grim determination. She?d find Imoen. And after that, she?d find Irenicus.
The courtyard was as she remembered it, with the flowers springing forth in full glory of spring despite the timelessness of the dream. The familiar paths led to and fro, trailing off into pockets of nothingness where the fabric of the landscape disintegrated. ?Within? could only refer to the great library itself, housed within the formidable walls, and it was there she went, blade drawn and mind seething. And it was there that the dream became even more surreal.
?Halt.?
Cassandra stopped, half-raising her sword into a ready position, unsure of how to react. A massive, barrel-chested demon stood before her at the top of the library?s entrance stairs. It was red-skinned and sported black bat-like wings easily twenty feet in span. The demon towered above her, well beyond seven feet tall, and massed as much as warhorse. Feral yellow eyes regarded her from above a short, canine muzzle filled with cruel and wicked teeth.
?This path is to the core, to the depths of your soul,? it said, the words clear and spoken with a polished accent despite the devilish face. ?You must give of yourself to know yourself. Enlightenment requires?? the fangs clicked together sharply, and the demon seemed to smile ??sacrifice.?
She tilted her head to the side, frowning as she studied him. He seemed solid enough, real enough. It?d be a very tight squeeze to get past him, though. ?You can?t kill me,? she said at length. ?I?m the dreamer here, not you.?
?I can?t kill you,? it agreed, clicking its teeth together again. The wings flexed as it inhaled deeply, seeming to scent the air. ?And demons do not dream.?
Her frown deepened, and she advanced forward up the steps. The beast made no move towards her; its gaze on her blade was more amused than cautious.
?Step aside,? she ordered.
It laughed, a low rich sound interspersed with jackal-like yips and barks, then abruptly unfurled its wings with a rush of air and whip of leathery skin drawn taught. The body lengthened, the hunched legs straightening, and the demon leaned forward with a disturbing leer. ?Sacrifice. Then you may gain entrance.?
It?d admitted it couldn?t kill her, but could a demon hurt her? Even in a dream? What kind of sacrifice to dream-demons need? It was ridiculous to contemplate ? giving something to her own imagination, in order to continue her own dream. Nonetheless, Cassandra?s many brushes with magic made her suspect it was wise to comply.
?What do you want, then, as this? sacrifice??
It seemed to settle down when faced with cooperation, and slowly returned to its former, less-threatening position. ?It?s not what I want, Bhaalspawn. It?s what you want.?
?What I want is for you to let me into the library,? she growled irritably.
It laughed again, a short chuckle, and then shook its head with an animal smile. ?You do not understand, Child of Bhaal, and that is why you have brought me here. You don?t want that at all.?
She tightened her grip on the hilt of her sword. ?I think I know what I want, devil.?
?Yes,? it agreed. ?You do think? but you don?t really know.?
?Then how about you enlighten me before I tire of your games?? she said, raising the sword once more.
?Idle threats are unbecoming, Child,? it rumbled, lowering itself further and twisting its snout into a grin. ?Especially from one like you. But do you truly wish to be enlightened??
?If it gets you out of my way.?
The yellow eyes narrowed, and the demon let out its bizarre laugh once more. ?Very well. I take of your wits, and the wisdom you have learned. Thus you shall know yourself through your mistakes, when you undoubtedly falter with foolishness. Embrace your doubts and insecurities, Cassandra of Bhaal ? they are what give you strength.?
A gust of air and wind-blow grit swirled into being around the demon and forced the fighter to shield her eyes. She staggered backwards, nearly stumbling off the stairs entirely, and then it was gone. The stairway lay open, accessible, and blessedly demon-free.
She approached the door cautiously as she eyed the surroundings for any further surprises, but none came forth. The door opened easily and revealed the dimly-lit interior of the famed Candlekeep library.
?Imoen!? Her voice resounded off the shelves of books and vault-like walls, booming like thunder. ?Imoen!?
?Here.? Cassandra turned her head towards the direction of the voice, and spotted a familiar figure in the northeast quarter of the library?s main foyer. ?Over here??
She resheathed her sword and steadied it with her hand as she jogged over to where the figure stood, then slowed to a confused halt as Imoen gestured for her to stay back.
?I? I can see you there,? her sister said, her voice soft and without echo even in the empty chamber.
?I?m here, Im. What?s wrong??
The girl held a finger to her lips. ?Shhhh. Before the shadows return to me. I?ve seen?. I?ve seen?? Her voice trembled and quavered. ?Lead the creature here. Lead it to me, and we shall fight it together. He does not expect us together.?
Cassandra shook her head. ?No. I?ll do it. Tell me how, and I?ll do it.?
?One alone cannot win.? Imoen closed her eyes and turned her head away. ?Alone you would fall, win or lose.?
?I will not risk you,? she retorted, voice rising. ?I?ve done that too often!?
The grey eyes opened, and the trembling voice was now strong. ?Go. Lead the beast here.?
?Imoen!?
?Go, Cassie. For us both.?
Cassandra stood still for several moments, struggling between her emotions, then with a growl she turned on her heel and stalked out of the library. This was stupid. It was a dream. Why did she even care? It wasn?t the real Imoen. It wasn?t a real demon. None of it was real. Whatever imaginary beast that she was to face would also be no more than the smoke and mirrors of her own mind. Was this how she soothed her conscience at night, by torturing herself in her dreams?
The stairs of the library were clear again; the demon had taken its leave. What other creature was there, then? She cast her eye about the courtyard and saw nothing beyond the flowers planted there. She quickened into a jog once more, again steadying the sheath of her sword, and exited to the outer grounds. Left and right she scanned the horizon? and on the left stood a figure where none had stood before.
To Hell with this, she spat mentally, then raised her voice to carry across the dead air. ?You there! Hey!?
The figure?s head turned in her direction, and the body quickly followed. He or she strode forward at a quick, confident pace. As the person drew nearer, details became clear. A horned helmet with a visor made of sharpened metal tines, fashioned to resemble a monster?s gaping maw; spiked metal armor tinted jet black, which encased a massive humanoid form. The dark warrior held what by all rights should have been a two-handed sword, but such was his size and power that he carried it easily with only one.
She knew him. She?d met him many times before, in dreams fouled with fear and in more nightmares than she could recall.
?Fall to your knees!? the warrior thundered.
She drew her sword. Imposing or not, it was still her dream. ?Fall to yours.?
It provoked the reaction she?d expected. The dark warrior surged forward, raising the immense sword high overhead, and swung at her in massive arc. She ducked under the blow and moved inside of his range, limiting the effectiveness of the huge weapon, and drove her sword into the open faceplate of the helmet. The blade shattered teeth and bone as it pierced the roof of his mouth and skewered his brain, stopping with a dull metallic sound as the steel and the iron helmet collided.
Cassandra held it there for a moment, then yanked the blade backwards, freeing it from the corpse. The body teetered as if unsure which way to fall? and then the gaping wound drew together, re-knitting itself, teeth sprouting from the gums and settling as if nothing had occurred. The warrior looked down on her, raising an arm, and drove a spike-covered gauntlet towards her head.
Cassie dodged out of reflex and hissed in surprise as the weapon ripped a shallow furrow through the shoulder of her mail shirt and the flesh underneath. That hurt. A lot more than she?d expect from a dream. Her foe?s armored foot lashed out and caught her squarely in the right shin. Pain lashed through her leg from the impact and she fell hard to the ground, barely keeping her grip around the hilt of her blade.
?You cannot run from yourself,? the warrior warned as he advanced, once again raising the giant sword. ?You cannot defeat yourself. I am the blood! I am the instinct!?
She rolled out of the way as the blade bit deep into the earth where she?d lain and tore loose clots of dirt when it was yanked free. Suddenly she wasn?t so positive that it wouldn?t do the same to her head, dream or not. She got to her feet with difficulty, pain still lancing through her right leg, and she limped out of his range, dragging her blade behind her.
Aerie used to tell her that if someone died in a dream, they died in life as well. Normally Cassie scoffed at such superstitions, but now she wasn?t so eager to put the avariel?s words to the test.
Thankfully the constant of encumbrance worked in fantasy as well as reality. Laden down with gods-only-knew how many pounds of armor and metal, the dark warrior was fierce but slow. Cassandra kept ahead of him, half-limping, half-walking, and grimaced with each painful step. She?d given the man a face full of steel and he?d not even blinked. He?d kicked her and nearly broken her leg.
One alone cannot win. She was entering the courtyard, heading towards the library, where she hoped that Imoen?s dream image knew what she was doing. She glanced behind her every few steps, partially to reassure herself he was still following and partially to reassure that he hadn?t caught up. Going up the stairs was torture, and by the time she entered the main foyer, he was already at mounting the steps.
?Imoen!? She made her way over to the figure at the back of the library. ?What do I do?? When she reached her younger sister, she turned once more to check on the warrior?s progress. He was heading towards the pair unerringly, with murder in his eyes.
?Now!? Imoen pointed at the advancing swordsman. ?It is within my sight. I will add my will to yours!?
Cassandra shouted and threw herself forward in a flurry of blows, the clash of sword against armor ringing through the halls of the library. She focused on being faster than her opponent, knowing she could not be stronger, and somehow here in the library, her strikes made wounds. Blood flowed, and it kept flowing, enraging the dark warrior more with every slice.
?How do you stand?? he demanded, reeling backwards. ?I should devour you!? The blade of her sword slid off his chestplate with a shower of sparks and the screech of metal against metal.
?I have help,? she informed him, and shifted to strike again. Once again the blade dove into the gap of the helmet?s face plate, and this time she knew the wound would kill. She left the sword there, buried inside the man?s head, and released the hilt as she backed away.
?Help?? Somehow he managed to talk nonetheless, despite the blade protruding from his face. He laughed, bubbles of blood and gore frothing in his destroyed visage. ?You are empty inside. There is nothing left. Nothing but me.?
Imoen pulled on her arm. Cassie turned around and found her sister frantically looking at herself, at her hands, her clothing, her legs, as if they?d all betrayed her. ?Something?s wrong,? she breathed. ?Something?s wrong!?
Imoen?s breath started coming harder and faster as panic enveloped her, and she pushed Cassie violently away. ?I- no- Not again! Not again!? She held her head in her hands and clenched her eyes shut. Her scream of terror reverberated through the entire keep, growing in volume and intensity as each and every echo added its voice to the fear, until Cassandra was forced to cover her ears and fall to her knees. The scream pierced her regardless, like a soul crying out in agony, until Cassie added her own voice to the chorus.
Then abruptly it was silent, and she was alone.
---------------------------------------------
She awoke with the bile thick in her throat as her legs gave way beneath her. She fell forward, instinctively thrusting her hands forward to break her fall, and found herself somehow braced against empty air. She collapsed against the invisible barrier and fought back the urge to vomit.
?Well, you are a strong one indeed!?
The voice raised the bile once more, and Cassandra gagged when the bitter gall entered her mouth. The red-haired woman fought it back once more and spit out the foul taste, wiping her mouth with her hand.
?You resist beyond all reason.? The pride in his voice dipped into smug satisfaction. ?A pity you are dead inside.?
Cassie got to her feet. She was encased in some manner of glass container, a jar, and slowly her memory returned to her. She vaguely remembered the journey to the island; the struggle to find entrance to the asylum was slightly more clear. What she remembered best was the betrayal, when Irenicus had revealed that he now controlled the asylum, and that the ship?s captain Saemon had been in his employ. When she?d been locked in this damnable jar to begin with, before the mage?s ritual had begun. Now it was over, and his disfigured, corpse-like face stared at her from the other side of the glass.
She spat at him, ineffectively, and glared at him with icy eyes. ?Dead inside? I defeated your creature. Imoen and I defeated it, together.?
?I don?t know what you faced while mired within the spell, but here in the world of the living my plans have gone just as I wished.? Irenicus smiled. It was a tight and ugly sight. ?I have drained you ? drained you of the very thing that made you special. It is the worst of curses, and I should know.?
?Drained me of my Taint? You consider that a curse??
?Hardly. I have taken your very divinity, and drained you of your soul. The curse that was wrought against Bodhi and I has now ceased and yours has begun. You will wither, you will wane, and you will die.?
?You?re not the first to underestimate me, Irenicus.?
?Oh really?? He approached the glass, the cold amusement clear in his dead black eyes. ?Imoen has also been stripped of her soul. She has withered, and she is dying. I think you would agree.?
Her mind flashed back to how Imoen had seemed when they had discovered her in Spellhold. She?d been empty. Shattered. Like the broken toy of a too-rough child, too battered to do anything but await the next abuse. The memory brought the hot spark of rage back to her heart.
?If you?ve hurt her, I will kill you,? she hissed.
?I have no doubt you would,? he agreed, ?but you are no longer a living threat. Bodhi!?
The svelte, pale form of the vampire materialized from the shadows of the room and crossed to the mage?s side.
?Remove this nothing,? he instructed, gesturing to the captive woman. ?And Imoen as well. We no longer need them.?
Bodhi smiled sweetly at Cassandra, no doubt enjoying the reversal of fortunes since her last defeat. ?As you would have it, brother.?
He turned his attention to her once more and made a small, elegant gesture of departure. ?Farewell, Child of Bhaal. We shall not meet again.?
?Irenicus!? He strode out of the room, ignoring her call. ?Irenicus!? She slammed her fists ineffectively against her prison walls. ?I WILL HAVE YOUR HEAD, MAGE!?
The dark-haired vampiress sighed and lazily drew her clawed fingernail across the glass. It etched a fine line into its surface. ?Such bravado. Such fire. Such a waste.?
She clapped her hands sharply and within seconds two more vampiric minions appeared. Cassandra tried to follow Bodhi?s motions as she manipulated the jar?s locking mechanism. There was a click, then one of the servants pulled open half of the container while the other rushed in and delivered a punch to the human?s midsection with unnatural strength and speed. Cassie doubled over, unable to hold back the bile this time, and emptied her stomach on the cage floor.
Bodhi?s nose wrinkled in distaste, and a brief gesture from her had Cassandra dragged from the glass container and thrown like a children?s doll from the platform to the room?s floor. The impact kicked the breath from her lungs and another swift punch to her stomach brought tears to her eyes.
?Don?t kill her. Not yet.?
The two lesser vampires hauled her to her feet and drug her forward between them, each one holding an arm, as Bodhi guided the way. Cassie was vaguely aware that she was being transported down a hallway and up a flight of stairs. Two large doors swung open in front of them, blinding her with a momentary wash of light. They threw her forward into some manner of large open chamber where she landed painfully on a cold tile floor. Several unmarked sacks were tossed in after her, impacting with the floor with heavy, metallic sounds, and then the doors were closed.
?Are you alright??
Two hands helped her as she rolled onto her back. She teeth gritted against the pain of motion and fumbled for the hands. Two small, warm fingers curl around hers. A breath, another, and she opened her eyes.
??Imoen??
The girl smiled shakily. She was kneeling over her fallen friend, clothed in a simple smock of rough green cloth. Several small scars marred her face where none had been before, but her eyes were clearer now. ?Yeah, it?s me. You?re a sight for sore eyes, I tell ya.?
Cassie reached up and took her arm, pulling the young woman into a prone embrace. Imoen went willingly, wrapping her arms around her as best she could, and buried her face in flame-red waves of Cassandra?s hair. The wetness of tears touched her neck.
?Cass, I thought I?d never see you again.?
She hugged her tighter and rested her cheek against her sister?s. Her own tears threatened to make words impossible. ?I came as fast as I could, I swear.?
?I know.? Imoen returned the squeeze. ?I knew you?d find me.?
?Are you alright? Did he hurt you??
Imoen pulled away slowly, a weak, forced smile barely curving her lips. ?Don?t worry about me. Look at you!? The smile vanished as Imoen really did look at her, and took count of the cuts, slashes, and scars. ?Holy crap, Cass, are you alright??
She levered herself into a sitting position, grimacing again as bones shifted in ways they shouldn?t have. ?I?m fine. Help me up.?
Imoen did so to the best of her abilities, despite her smaller stature. Her hands steadied the fighter from behind. Cassie?s stomach twisted again as the world tilted and spun from a wave of nausea.
?Cassie?? Imoen cupped her sister?s face in her hands, fixating her with stormy grey eyes. ?You are not fine.?
?I will be. Just help me, like in the dream.?
?Dream??
?That? that ritual he just did. The dream. You helped me kill the warrior in the library.?
?What?? Confusion and concern furrowed her brow. ?I had no dream in my ritual. The whole thing was an unbearable nightmare? but I had no dreams at all. It was just blackness, all around me, and this pain like I was being ripped apart. I ? I??
She shook her head, clearing away the dark memories which had spawned, and dropped her hands from Cassandra?s face. ?I?m sorry. The things he showed me. They were? they were so black and horrid. And the feelings he evoked in me were even worse.?
Cassie?s jaw tightened. Her eyes flickered back to the doorway, beyond which the ritual had taken place. Beyond which was Irenicus. ?He tortured you.?
She shuddered, a tremble running visibly through her body. ??Torture? doesn?t even come close. ?you know, he? he said he took my soul??
Cassandra hugged her close again, offering what comfort she could. ?I don?t think that?s possible.?
?I?m not so sure?? She looked down at her hands, curling her fingers experimentally. ?I?ve been getting a lot weaker, Cass. I don?t know how much time has passed since he? since he did whatever he did. But the effects are real.?
?Then we?ll find a way to stop it.?
?I hope so. He did the same to you, you know.? She sighed, flexing her hands one last time. ?If we don?t reverse what was done, we?ll probably both die.?
An amused feminine voice spoke from above. ?Oh, beyond a doubt.?
Both sets of eyes lifted. Bodhi stood on a second-floor balcony, overlooking the chamber in which they stood, and leaned against the railing with a casual smile. ?Family reunion ? so touching.?
?What do you want?? Imoen demanded. ?Haven?t you done enough??
?And she still has a spark.? Bodhi?s smile widened, her eyes focused on Imoen with a perverse hunger. ?Fading so quickly, though. It?s a pity; you?ve proven resilient beyond all expectations. It is? appealing? to me.?
?We aren?t here to entertain you!?
?Oh, but you are,? she corrected. ?My amusement is all that is keeping you alive. Irenicus wishes you dead, and he is very rarely denied his wishes.?
?Irenicus this, Irenicus that ? you think too highly of him,? Cassandra spit back at her. ?Get down here and do it, if that?s his demand.?
The unearthly beauty of her face darkened in a frown. ?It is his demand, but I am not his lapdog, and now you are subject to my whim, not his.?
?Oh joy.? Imoen rolled her eyes.
Bodhi ignored her. She adjusted her position on the railing. ?Your abilities have piqued my interest, and since you are to die I would have you do it in an entertaining fashion. Irenicus can be so dour when he wishes. He is set on revenge for his banishment and can think of nothing else. A failing of his mind remaining flesh, I suppose. But undeath has given me focus, and an interest in the abilities of powerful creatures. An interest in you.? Her smile returned. ?I will make your death glorious, as well as entertaining.?
?If you want to kill me, kill me. I will not play this game.?
?Oh, but you will, Cassandra. You have no choice. You?ll run my maze like the good little mice you are.? She stepped away from the balcony and retreated into the blackness of Spellhold?s walls. ?The hunt begins.?
Cassandra sighed heavily, running her left hand through her hair. ?You know, I?d love to go just one god-damned week without someone trying to kill me. Just one.?
?I think she meant it,? Imoen said, voice serious. ?Spellhold is one big maze designed to separate the insane from the ?merely deviant?. We?ll be lucky to survive running from her, much less fighting her.?
Another sigh, and another reflexive run of her fingers through the crimson waves. ?I need time to think, then, time to plan. We should get moving. Maybe we can find some make-shift weapons or ?? Her eyes caught the two sackcloth bags which had been thrown in after her. ?What?s in those sacks??
?Sacks? What?oh.? Imoen crouched down next to the nearest one and quickly untied the clasp with nimble fingers. One pale hand slipped in and withdrew a blood-spattered metal gauntlet. ?Huh??
?That?s my armor.? Cassandra knelt beside her and quickly helped her empty the contents of the bag. Her chain shirt, greaves, boots ? dirty and bloody, but functional. ?It?s all here,? she breathed in amazement. ?All of it, even my sword.?
Imoen?s tone was doubtful. ?I guess she wants us to have a fighting chance.?
?Check the other one.? Cassandra started buckling on what of the protective leather and metal she could by herself as Imoen rummaged through the other container.
?Uh?cloth? A robe, I think. Couple of rations ? at least we won?t starve ? no water though. A key. A teddy bear? What the Hell??
Cass looked up from fastening her knee guards and blushed slightly as Imoen waved the small brown animal at her with a questioning arch of her eyebrow. ?I found it,? she muttered. ?Thought it might be important.?
?Oh, so it?s not for me??
?Umm.. sure. I guess.?
The fiery eyebrow arched higher.
?Er? of course it?s for you. That?s why I got it in the first place. Cheer you up.?
Imoen?s lips curved into a mischievous smile. ?Thanks. I appreciate it.? She dragged the bag over to her warrior sibling and let it loose as she helped fasten the armor. When she got to the pauldrons which protected her shoulders, she leaned in close with a giggling whisper. ?Nice recovery, by the way.?
Cassandra stiffened at the warm touch of breath against her ear. Visions from her dreams flooded back, bringing with them a faint blush of heat. She turned her head away. ?You should? We should go.?
?Okay. I?ll get the bag, you?re carrying enough as is.? She shouldered the pack, oblivious to the reaction to her teasing. ?Door number one, door number two, or door number three??
The fighter studied the archways which led into the heart of Spellhold, each one light by simple flickering torchlight. Nothing seemed especially inviting or special about any of them.
?Number two, I guess.?
?North it is. Ah Hell? wait?? Imoen put down the sack and glanced over her shoulder at the three small objects which had fallen out during her rifling through the bag. ?Just a sec.?
She crossed back over to the doorway through which Cassandra had so indelicately entered and knelt to scoop up the objects. A small tin container which smelled slightly of ash, one of the handful of rations which she?d discovered, and a small book.
A spellbook? That?d be useful. She flipped it open to the first page.
Day 1
I failed her. I failed her completely. I promised I?d take care of her, never leave her side, get her free of that madman; she trusted me to do it.
She closed the book instantly and glanced over her shoulder at Cassandra. Her foster sister was adjusting one of the straps on her greaves.
Imoen pursed her lips in a moment?s hesitation. It was Cassie?s handwriting. She?d stolen her share of diaries in Candlekeep and read them all with giggling enjoyment, but they were adults now, and with all that had happened she was sure that they both had thoughts they?d prefer to keep private. But with all that had happened, all that could happen? they might not have time to catch up on ?old times.? Bodhi hadn?t said how long her hunt would last.
?Imoen, come on.?
?Coming, coming!? She slipped the book into her pocket, mentally cursing herself as she did so. She gathered the other two items in her hands and rushed back over to the sack, stuffing them inside.
?Okay, I?m ready.? She ensured the sack was firmly closed this time and hefted it over her shoulder. ?Point the way, fearless leader.?
Cassandra glanced at her with a small frown and sighed as she turned towards the northern arch. ?I wish you weren?t so confident in me.?
?Hey, it?s all I?ve got.?
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Stay tuned for Chapter 1, part 2 on Monday!
Edited by TC Dale, 31 March 2009 - 12:28 AM.