Icelandic-Boy

Alright guys, fire away, but think happy thoughts if you're shooting to kill!

Everything I touch dies.

Everyone who I hold close, or are around me, get hurt.

Gorion.

Imoen.

Khalid.

Jaheira.

Dynaheir.

Minsc and Boo.

Viconia.

.....Aribeth.....

All of them have either been killed or hurt because of me, because of what I was. A Bhaalspawn.

....When I lost Viconia, I was devastated. I was feared. I was hated. I was admired. I was hunted. But I was not loved, despite of all my efforts, even the elves wanted nothing to do with me, nor did anyone pay any attention to all the good deeds I had done. Instead, they focused on what I was.

And so I choose to run, to hide from those who blamed me for they?re loses, who saw me as they?re source of misery and destruction. In a way, they were right.

I changed my name, even hid my great magical power to remain undetected and soon started neglecting them. But during my ?travels? I visited a place called Port Llast, near the city of Luskan.

When arriving, I was greeted by the sight of the place beeng attacked by groups of orcs, the inhabitands just barely keeping them at bay. I did what I knew at heart was right.

I unleashed my powers upon the surprised orcs, killing them all without hurting anyone else. When you have killed as many as I have, you?ll learn the best way to kill in circumstances.

Due to my very young age, the people of Port Llast thought I had just graduated from a wizard school, and so were awed by my power, but they did not fear me, for a change. Instead, I was welcomed with open arms, and my plan of staying there for just a night lengthend into a week, until on the seventh day that I was prebearing to leave, I was aproached by a message boy, giving me an invitation from none other then the paladin Aribeth de Tylmarande.

The story of my ?heroic deed? had reached her ear in Neverwinter City, and thus decided to invite me to the legendery Acedemy of Neverwinter. I had heard they were suffering from some sort of plague, but before the letter came, I had no intentions of going there.

But when reading that Aribeth had made call to all would-be-heroes, I was intruiqed, and so went to Neverwinter. And, of course, I choose not to reveal all of my wizard-powers during my ?training?, it would simply just cause too much trouble and far too many questions.

I had read much about the legendery elven paladin in many books in Candlekeep, her deeds, her heroic efforts and victorys against those who follow the path of darkness and evil. And when I met her after I graduated, I saw that the stories were not exhagerated. Looking at her, she shone with light, faith and kindness, her eyes ready to bring hope and compassion to those in need, and her hands ready to strike against those who sought to cause chaos.

And everytime I saw Aribeth and Fenthick looked into each other?s eyes, I saw Jaheira and Khalid, and I prayed that they?re love would not follow the same path.

No one seemed to have listened to my pray.

I blame myself for Fenthick?s death because of my arrogance.

When I faced Desther, I became arrogant at the time, I was so used to winning, I did not prebear myself as well as I should had, and I was seriosly wounded after our fight, and when I, Desther and Fenthick teleported back to Castle Never, I collapsed.

The day I woke up, was the day they hanged Fenthick.

Should someone be punished for thinking someone to be his friend, and then find out they weren?t? Should he be executed for trusting someone?

I know what it is like to be betrayed by someone who is belived to be a friend. There is no crime in trusting someone who uses that trust in order to betray.

Yoshimo.......I forgive you.

I ran as fast as I could to the tree in front of the castle, where they planned on hanging Fenthick, but when I arrived, I saw his hanged body, and his love, Aribeth, kneeling on the ground, silendly mourning.

The people demanded Fenthick?s blood, but I was known among them as they?re savior, and my words could have changed Fenthick?s fate, but instead, an innocent soul was executed, all because I became arrogant.

I could not bear to look into Aribeth?s eyes with that knowledge, and so I silendly walked away.

The time that came afterwards....I can only hope that people will look at the city of Neverwinter, and see the perfect example of what revenge can cause.

If not, then we are all surely doomed.

Before facing Morag, Aribeth and I talked.

Aribeth, no longer a paladin but a Black Guard, a betrayer, turned all of her emotions and feelings towards me, and I....I....did not know what to do.

This was just too much like what Jaheira did, a proud and a strong woman in grief, turning to her closest friend in the hope her wounds would be healed.

The only real difference this time was that I no longer had Viconia near, or no-one else really for that matter. I was alone, and so, I just....didn?t know what to do.

I was alone and lost, had been like that long before even entering Port Llast, and she saw it in my eyes, no matter how hard I tried to hide it.

She embraced me in her arms, and whispered into my ear that I was no longer lost or alone, I had been found.

I embraced her as well, and both of us wept, we both comforted each other, both mourning and both happy at the same time. And somehow I just knew that Nasher would not have her executed, that she would be given the chance to redeem herself.

In a way, I was both correct and wrong at that thought.

When I returned, choosing not just yet to reveal I had survived battling Morag, Aribeth layed in her cell, dead. The next thing I knew, I was outside the ruined city, the battle still beeng fought, though the invaders were beeng driven out. I was on a hill that oversaw the city, and I was burrying Aribeth, right next to Fenthick?s grave.

And then I just stood on that hill, watching the bloody battle in the city, and to this day I cannot remember what my thoughts were at that time, nor my emotions if any.

But I remember my trance was broken when Aarin Gend appeared out of nowhere. For some time, neither of us spoke a word as none were needed. Both of us knew what it was like loosing a loved-one. We just watched as the Luskan invaders were driven out.

I asked him what had happened to Aribeth.

He said the offical story was, that after getting the revenge she needed, Aribeth surrendered herself, and gaved all the informations she had. And that later on, she took in poisen she had carried, thus throwing her soul to the gods to decide what to do with her.

I asked him what the unoffical story was.

He said the unoffical story was that the warden guarding her, had poisend her food, an action fueled by hatred after he had lost his family when the Luskan army invaded the city.

When hearing that, I wanted to kill. No...murder. To make that pig, that coward, that bastard suffer beyond the gods? wildest imaginations, to break him, to have him beg me to kill him. I wanted revenge.

But the thought of Aribeth convinced me not to. I somehow knew that she did not wish to be avenged. And so, I walked away. From the city, from everything.

I asked Aarin not to reveal I was alive, nor fake my death, but to just stay silend, and let the rest come up with a story themselves.

Aarin gaved me his word he would do so, that he would not even inform Nasher of my existence.

And so, here I am. I am somewhere in the mountains, and it is snowing gently, the snow is falling slowly down, not even a wind to direct it. The silence is so much, I can hear the snow hitting the ground.

I?m having nightmares, where it is all the same.

In front of me is the burning city of Neverwinter.

To my right burns Saradosh, holding nothing but death.

To my left is what seems to be an endless field of dead bodies, where Yaga-Shura is among them, the rest were his soldiers that stood between me and the fire-giant.

I do not even dare to look what is behind me. I am too afraid. But even though I do not see what is behind me, I can hear it.

Voices....thousends, millions of them. I can hear they?re sounds, I can feel they?re hatred, I can taste they?re anger and I can smell them coming for me.

Are they people who I have killed? Are they those who suffered because of what I was, because of what I have done? Are they the army that Haedreline warned me of? Or are they something worse, or entirely different? I don?t know. I am too afraid to look.

And around all this destruction, all this death, I see a line around it all. That line is me. I am what connects all of them. I am the cause, the participant and the killer.

I may no longer be a Bhaalspawn, but still, Death remains as much as my gift, as a curse. Thanks a lot, Dad.

I am somewhere in the northen regions, a region that I think is named Silver Marches. And I can see how it earned that name.

It is always snowing here, the snow never goes away, and when I look around, the snow-covered fields look like they were made out of silver.

I passed a sign some time ago, and just barely spared a glance. I belive I am heading somewhere near a place called Hilltop.

I belive Hilltop is one of those places for people to be forgotten, to live the rest of they?re lives in a dull peace. Maybe I?ll buy a small cottage and spent the rest of my unnatural life there.

If that is so, then I am about to spend a loooong time there, all thanks to my wizard-magic. Even if I would cease all magical-related actions, the magical-power within me is so great, it will expand my life for many years. Well over hundred years, berhaps even a thousend.

I don?t even know what to do anymore.

No matter what I?ve done, no matter how much light I?ve brought to the darkest places in Faerun, I can?t seem to light up the darkness within me.

I?m.....alone.

I?m.....tired.

I?m.....so.....cold.

.

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When I loaded a game in BG2, I saw a line telling me I could import my BG character into the Neverwinter game. Before I knew it, I had this above inside my head and some time to kill, and this is the result.

Hope I?ve managed to capture some emotions in it.

I want to say that I am NOT an english speaker, nor do I have a spell-checker. Been meaning to get it, but I just haven?t done it. So if you intend to flame all this just because of spelling-errors, please be gentle. That?s all I ask for.

As for wether if I might continue, well.....I have no clue. Who knows, maybe. Then again, maybe not. For all I know, you people might hate me for writing this.

Anyways, feel free to voice your opinion on my work, if you feel like it.