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Sorcery
I waited a long time before my quarry actually showed up, and by the time he did, I was thoroughly bored. However, I snapped sharply to attention when he came into view. The Seer had said he had the power to save us from the Valsharess; I had no doubt he could be dangerous if he chose to be.
The Seer had given me preciously little information about him. Faced with my repeated inquiries about how I could identify him, she had smiled enigmatically, in a very seer-like manner, and stated that I would recognize the human male as Stanislas Thiocarpsen when I would meet him.
Of course, she had been right, as always. A human male walked in, just behind a bulky half-orc warrior, and a Halfling with a careful step ? a rogue, no doubt ? followed them.
Stanislas Thiocarpsen was very young; I had trouble guessing humans? age, but he looked under twenty ? he had the scrawny look of a man after he?s done growing up, but before he starts putting on muscle. I could also tell he was a mage from the Battlerobe he wore. The short bow in his hands, which he seemed to know how to use quite well, seemed a little out of place between the fingers of a spellcaster. His short and wavy brown hair stopped in an unruly fringe just over his eyebrows. His mouth was full, surprisingly so for a male, and he wore a stubble of a few days that gave him an irresistible air of studied carelessness. There was something indefinable in the way his battlerobe ? a haughty garment if ever there was one ? seemed to be a relaxed attire on him. He did not have the look of Gulhrys or any other drow high wizard ? nor did he resemble Halaster. He had the relaxed and outrageous stance of a bard, and suddenly something clicked in my mind.
He was a sorcerer.
I held back my gasp; I would not reveal myself like an amateur. I suddenly wondered with interest where he took his power from ? sorcerers were somewhat of a mystery. Rumour had it that dragon blood flowed in their veins, or that they descended from some ancient power.
But I had little time to ponder the enigma, however, and I slowly stepped out of the shadows, holding my hands up. I did not attempt to hide the rapier and short sword belted at my hips from Stanislas and his companions; no one wandered through the Underdark or Undermountain unarmed.
?Hold your weapons, I mean you no harm,? I greeted.
Instantly two arrows swivelled around to point straight at my chest, and the half-orc warrior stepped in before his companions, lifting his axe in a defensive position.
?Tomi, aren?t you checking for traps and other concealed dangers??, the sorcerer asked. He made no attempt not to be heard or to hide his displeasure at being caught unawares.
The rogue halfling stole a glance at me, still holding my hands up and smirking. You can?t blame a girl for feeling good when her talents are being appreciated to their full merit.
?I was, mate,? the rogue named Tomi defended himself, ?but I?m just a bloody good rogue. I can?t spot drow assassins just like that.?
The sorcerer turned and looked at me suspiciously. His misgivings hurt me a little, but I had come not to expect outward trust. I was a drow assassin after all.
?Who are you and what do you want?? Stanislas asked.
I relaxed; he had lowered his arrow to speak. At least he was determined to be civilized.
?My name is Nathyrra,? I answered. ?You?re the one they call Stanislas Thiocarpsen, aren?t you??
I did not really need to ask, but formalities always bore the look of politeness and usually pacified people. He grimaced slightly at the name.
?I am. How do you know my name??
?Your reputation precedes you, Stanislas. I know who you are. You?re something of a legend among my people.?
?I can?t figure how the drow might have heard of me? unless for the fact that I?m currently doing all I can to stop them from reaching the surface. How is it that you don?t mean me any harm, then??
He was not easily misled, I saw. ?My people are drow,? I answered. I frowned; he was forcing me to say more than I had intended for a first meeting. We must not linger long enough to alert the Valsharess of the Seer?s attempt at contacting him at last. ?But they are not like the ones who have invaded Undermountain and attack the surface. We are different. We are? rebels.?
?Different? Yeah, right,? the Halfling spat contemptuously, ?instead of stabbing us in the gut, you pretend to be a friend then stick the knife in the back!?
?I think we should listen to what she has to say before we judge her,? the half-orc said, shifting slightly to put himself between Tomi?s arrow and me.
I jumped at the occasion to speak. ?We want to help you, Stanislas. We want to help you free Halaster so you can stop the forces of the Valsharess from attacking Waterdeep.?
?Who is the Valsharess? Is he?? He paused, something occurring to him belatedly. ?Knowing the drow, that?s probably a she? Is she the one you are rebelling against??
I nodded. He knew drow well, even if he still had his human reflex to suppose males to be the leaders. ?She is the ruler of House Kilath, a faction from the drow that has recently risen to prominence. The drow invading Waterdeep serve the Valsharess and her House.?
I then explained how she had captured Halaster and gained access to the surface through the mad mage?s dungeon. I hurried on to specify that not all drow followed her enthusiastically. Stanislas listened eagerly to every bit of information I was willing to provide. When I just let slip the name Red Sister, he immediately observed, ?There have been several recent assassinations in Waterdeep.?
I nodded. ?The work of the Red Sisters. The Valsharess is using them to sow fear and panic, to weaken the city by removing its most powerful defenders.?
He smirked at that. ?Well, she did not succeed with me. Although I might strike out as arrogant to consider myself among the city?s most powerful defenders.? He stated the latter coolly, his whole body displaying a careless elegance that was quite unexpected. I stared back blandly while he watched me for any reaction. Was he waiting for me to flatter him or fireball him? From the smile on his face right then, lightly amused and self-important at the same time, it was hard to tell.
So I dodged his comment. ?The Red Sisters are very good at what they do. Had you not caught that thief in your room, you would have woken to find a Red Sister with a blade standing over you? assuming you woke up at all.? Then I sighed. ?The Valsharess must have targeted you because of your reputation. You are one of the few powerful enough to threaten her plans. That?s also the reason we finally chose to approach you.?
He was serious now, his? I silently groped for a word to describe his attitude of just a moment ago, but could find none that encompassed it all. Self-important? Amused? Flippant?
?I? I don?t think I should say anymore,? I concluded. ?Not yet. In any case, you should focus on rescuing Halaster. Once free, he?ll drive the Valsharess?s army out of Undermountain and back into the Underdark.?
?Well? thank you for your information. That is, if it was accurate, but I guess you?re giving me a chance to find that out for myself right now, aren?t you??
I nodded. ?Goodbye, Stanislas. And good luck. Maybe we?ll meet again, sometime.?
?Goodbye, Nathyrra.?
Rolling my cloak around my shoulders, I melted back into the shadows.
?Why did you listen to the backstabber for!??, the Halfling asked as soon as I was out of sight.
?Watch your tongue, Tomi,? the sorcerer answered tonelessly. ?I have a feeling she might still be listening. What she said makes sense so far, so I believe her. For now. But in case she?s just trying to lure us into a trap, I don?t think it would be wise to anger her.?
I smiled, unmoving in the shadows. Was Stanislas afraid of me? He did not like being sneaked upon, that much was obvious. I smirked to myself. At least I had made an impression.
***
After a few adventures, Stanislas ended up in the Underdark with a geas hooked into his soul. Some explanations and planning were necessary, but eventually Stanislas set off towards the Isle of the Maker, and asked Valen and I to join him. Stanislas had decided that we should seek golems? help before paying a visit to the illithid. I offered no objection; I was too happy to go with him to question his choices. The prospect of waiting in Lith My?athar, sitting uselessly on my behind, did not agree well with me.When we entered the dungeon that had belonged to the Maker so long ago, Stanislas looked totally unconcerned, and I felt I must warn him, lest he get us all killed.
?Are you fully prepared for this, Stanislas? A dungeon full of golems can be difficult if you don?t know what you?re about to face.?
?Nathyrra, can I ask you something??, he replied, looking aggravated.
?Well, of course? What is it??, I answered, taken aback.
?Please call me Stan. My name, well? I had the misfortune of having parents that didn?t speak waterdhavian argot??
I repressed a smile; a hero with an offensive name? If I ever got to the surface as the Seer kept promising me, I would have to inquire about the meaning of ?Stanislas?.
?Very well, Stan. But do you know what we are running headlong into??
?Golems, most likely,? he answered carelessly. I started to wonder how he had survived his twenty-some years of life.
?Yes, but golems present special difficulties,? I explained. I had the distinct unpleasant feeling that I was mothering him. ?Magic has little effect on them, many weapons can?t even harm them. And these golems may be different than others.?
His amused smile told he had successfully baited me into spouting exactly that kind of speech.
?Let?s see,? he commented wryly. ?Valen?s flail is clearly enchanted enough to hit them, as is your rapier, although your short sword will not scratch the most powerful ones ? golems of iron class and higher: iron, adamantine, mithral. I doubt we?ll be given the chance to see higher than iron though. Maybe a few adamantine, considering the Maker was rumoured to be ultra-powerful. As for my bow, I am aware it?s useless, but I have spells. A Greater Breach should lower iron?s spell resistance enough for my evocation spells to go through ? I?ve spent enough time studying that school of magic that it can sink through almost anything.? He paused, holding his hands together quietly in front of him, like a child at school, and looked down at me, looking extremely amused and faintly satisfied with himself. ?Did I pass your test, mistress Nathyrra??
I was amused in spite of myself, but I didn?t let it show. ?Barely,? I replied dryly. ?There is something you have overlooked. The wizard who created them was supposed to be a master at creating such constructs. I wouldn?t be surprised if we encounter something no one has run into before. You?re special; I can?t let anything happen to you. Please, promise me you?ll be careful.?
?You think I?m special??, he asked with a wry smile, cocking his head to the side. ?I think you?re special, too.?
?Spare me your clumsy flirtations, male,? I snarled automatically, my eyes flashing dangerously at him. ?I meant you are special because of the Seer?s visions. You are supposed to be our saviour. The fate of all who follow the Seer is in your hands, Stan. If you fall, our hopes fall with you.?
Far from looking intimidated or put back in his place, as any drow male would have, and which is what I expected from him, his smile actually widened and he looked at me wryly. He was amused! I would have to remember that he was not drow. And, if I was honest with myself, I had to admit his flirtations were anything but clumsy. He radiated an assurance and a magnetism far beyond his age.
He looked so young, so green, that I kept expecting him to be impressed into silence or submission by my dramatic declarations. On the contrary, he slipped back into ?serious mode? with an ease that again made me acutely aware of the authority and attraction he was draped into.
?I don?t forget it, Nathyrra, and I promise I?ll be careful. I would like you, however, to have a little more confidence in your abilities, and that of Valen, the Seer, Imloth, Gulhrys, and everyone else in Lith My?athar. I have seen you fight Halaster yesterday, and I have watched Valen train this morning. I am impressed by what I saw. My presence was unnecessary for a successful expedition here to the Isle of the Maker. I have no doubt that Valen and you could have come here alone and accomplish pretty much the same thing you?ll do with my assistance today. If I fall, not every hope falls for Lith My?athar, Nathyrra. Please remember that and, if something should happen to me, I am sure that you and Valen can continue to weaken the Valsharess?s army and gather allies for yourselves. Promise me that you will try??
I was surprised by the sudden turn of the conversation, but I nodded solemnly. ?I promise.?
?I promise,? Valen added. He had stood by the side, watching our exchange in silence.
We made our way through the dungeon. At one particularly inquiring look by me and Valen while he disarmed an especially nasty trap, Stan explained, ?My mother was a thief. She never agreed to show me how to pickpocket someone decently, but she did train me extensively on how to handle traps and locks.?
?And your father??, Valen asked then, surprising me with his curiosity. ?Is it from him that you inherit your sorcery??
Stan shook his head. ?No. My father was a fighter. My parents used to hire as mercenaries to guard caravans and such, at least until I was born. Then they decided to settle down. My mother began to work as a helper for a mage guild; with her nimble fingers she put contraptions together and apart at the mages? request. My father recycled as a guard for the village. I can?t know for certain where I have my sorcery from, but my mother?s father fled his family when his youngest child was only six. The story is that he put someone on fire with his anger and was so ashamed that he just ran away and never came back. I don?t know if it?s true, and anyway I?m the only one in the family with this particular talent; I have an uncle that is a wizard, but no sorcerers but me.?
?Is it your mother that trained you in the use of the bow as well??, Valen asked again.
?Yes,? Stan answered simply, finishing the last delicate move of disarming the trap. He removed his Amulet of the Master and replaced it with his usual amulet of protection.
?She taught you well,? Valen complimented, most uncharacteristically.
I stole a quick glance at Valen. He was starting to melt towards our ?prophetical saviour?, I saw. I guess I should have expected this; the tiefling had been alone in infinite armies for all of his life. It was no wonder that he could more easily form bonds with comrades in arms than anyone else, and that he was at his place in battle more than anywhere else in the world.
***
When we got back to Lith My?athar, we had powerful allies sworn to assist us in the coming war with the Valsharess ? the golems of Ferron?s faction. We also exhibited various hurts, especially Valen who sported many bruises the size of a golem?s fist, and dragged our crushing exhaustion everywhere with us. So, once we delivered the good news to the Seer and Imloth, we all just went to our rooms and collapsed into sleep.The next morning, Valen crawled last out of his room, a good twelve hours later. Still looking sleepy, he dragged his feet to the table where Stan and I were taking breakfast. Valen winced when he twisted to the right to get down in his chair.
?We?re taking the day to rest,? Stan declared. ?Valen is in no condition to take another fight, and it?s too late to set out today anyway.?
Valen and I both agreed eagerly; my insides still felt out of place from the blows of the previous day. Still drowsy, we all ate silently. Once he had downed his three helpings of breakfast, Valen left with a stiff step to go ?warm up with the recruits?. I pitied any soldier forced to fence with Valen, even in his current state.
After the departure of the weapon master, Stan and I found ourselves alone. Stan ordered more serra?ith, the hot beverage that was somewhat of a favourite among non-drow in the Underdark, and it struck me again how authoritarian he could be, without even forcing it.
?I?ve been watching you, Stan,? I said, looking at him over the rim of my cup. ?I?ve been observing how you handle yourself. You remind me of someone I used to know.?
Immediately the authority fell from him to be replaced by outrageous charm and warm amusement. His eyes sparkled at me from across the table.
?So you?ve been watching me? See anything you like??
I laughed. ?I?ll admit you have certain charms that most women would find? appealing,? I conceded, amused. ?I?m sure I?m not the first to tell you so. But that wasn?t what I meant. You remind me of Seelamin, a servant I knew before I joined the Red Sisters. He was a sorcerer, like you? and a surfacer. House Kant?tar ? my house ? purchased him at a slave auction.?
Seduction and amusement fled him in an instant, to be replaced by something close to resentment. ?I remind you of a slave??, he asked.
?Seelamin was unlike any of the other servants,? I hurried to explain, trying to dispel the anger in his countenance. ?He had an air of authority; even as a slave his mere presence commanded respect. Seelamin was a leader? as are you.?
He snorted. ?And what happened to that slave of yours??
It was the first time he held something of my past against me, and it hurt. I did not let my hurt or my anger speak, however. I added calmly, ?Seelamin has been dead for many years. He was killed when House Kant?tar fell to the Valsharess.?
Stan relented. ?The Valsharess destroyed your House??
As could be expected, I had to tell Stan how my house had fallen, how I had fled and become a dobluth, how I had been tracked by the Red Sisters on the Valsharess? orders, and how I had joined the Red Sisters.
?You worked for the woman who killed your family??, he asked with a typical human naïveté.
?Family doesn?t count for much among the drow. In time I would have plotted to kill Matron Vassena and my sisters so I could rule House Kant?tar. My sisters would have done the same. It is our way.?
?Sometimes I wonder how drow find it in themselves to convert to the worship of Eilistraee at all,? he said, in the tone he would have used to speak of a strange puzzle that kept him unexplainably stuck.
?There is what we are taught, what we feel and what we yearn to believe in,? I answered, my tone brittle.
He looked sharply at me, as though brought back to reality. ?I?m sorry, Nathyrra, I didn?t mean? It?s just strange to hear these words from you, because I know you?re not that kind of person anymore. I didn?t mean to hurt you.?
I nodded in acceptance of his apologies. He took a breath and made a valiant effort to bring back the conversation on track. ?So? how does the destruction of your House and your flight lead to your joining the Red Sisters??
I explained how the Valsharess had offered me a position among the Red Sisters because of my obvious skill. At the end of my tale, Stan looked at me a long time, not quite able to decide how he felt about it, it seemed.
?I?m sorry you were literally thrown out in the streets by the Valsharess,? he said at length. ?It can?t be easy to survive in a drow city without allies.?
I shrugged. ?It taught me a few tricks I used later to survive.?
Something dark sped across his eyes and I blinked, but when I looked back it was gone. ?Yes, I imagine it has? At any rate, I?m glad you survived and you?re here as you are now.?
Rather abruptly, he stood, threw a few coppers on the table to pay, and he left.
I stayed there a while, wondering why he had suddenly fled. Was he so angry at me for having been a drow, which meant keeping slaves? I could think of nothing else in the conversation that could have caused his sudden reaction. I frowned slightly; maybe he bore a personal hatred for slavery. He had not seemed concerned about the hundreds of deaths resting on my conscience or about the fact I had killed Velkyn while she was helpless in her sleep.
Right then, Gulhrys came in and offered to help me scribe a few scrolls, and I accepted gladly. Anything to keep me busy.
Late that night, I came back from the high wizard?s lab with a bunch of scrolls bundled under my arm, and I found Stan waiting for me besides the temple?s stairs, playing distractedly with little balls of fire of all colours. The orbs floated in front of him and a myriad of colours shifted across their surface. A few children stood at a distance, watching him in awe. I felt a pang of jealousy that he could conjure these things just like that, on a whim, and shape it to his liking effortlessly. The balls of fire died when he saw me, though, and he came walking up to me slowly.
?I owe you an apology,? he began.
?Well, I?m listening,? I answered coolly, tilting my head and crossing my arms on my chest.
?I?m sorry I was? rude to you earlier. I apologize. I like that you trust me enough to discuss your past with me, and I hope my rudeness didn?t discourage you to speak with me forever. I?d like it if you still felt like talking to me.?
I smiled then, amused at seeing the usually confident and charismatic sorcerer shuffle his feet in embarrassment and stating quite clearly that he liked to speak with me. That certainly felt good.
?Of course,? I said. ?By the way, I meant to ask you since yesterday? do you have a moment, or do you wish to continue entertaining the children for the night??
He shot a look at the score of children watching him eagerly, awaiting a new show of coloured flames, and smiled. ?No, I think I?ve showed them pretty much what I could come up with. What did you want to ask me??
?Come on in, we?ll be quieter inside.?
He followed me into the temple and up the stairs to the second floor. I guided him towards one of the small alcoves in the hall with a small table and a few chairs. We sat together.
?Just a little something,? I said. ?I?m curious about sorcery.?
?Who isn?t??, he replied with a tired sigh. ?No, I don?t know how I do it. No, I can?t make up new spells that easily. No, I don?t know how exactly I gain more spells.?
I laughed, and he brightened up a bit.
?In fact, I meant to ask you how it was the first time you cast. As a wizard, I can tell you that the masters drill us so much on cantrips and practice and empty incantations and spell components that, when finally we are allowed to cast, it?s an anti-climatic release of frustration more than anything else. But for you? did you know before your first spell that you could cast anything at all??
His stare grew distant while he looked back at his old memories. ?Well? there always was a part of me that knew, I think. Even as a child, I sometimes had strange thoughts. For example, when you?re sitting cosily somewhere, rolled into a warm cover and with a tray of food over your knees, it?s rather annoying to have to get up to snuff out a candle, isn?t it? Well, sometimes, when I was tired, or unguarded, I would think, ?I need to snuff out the candle?, and during a split second, I felt like if I just turned to look at it and extended a finger, it would die out by itself. Then my rational thought would override it, I would shake myself, think I?m a fool, and I would walk to the candle to snuff it out.? He looked at me and shrugged uncomfortably. ?I don?t know if I make any sense.?
?Yes, yes you do,? I reassured him hurriedly. ?I see what you mean. It never happened to me though. Even with instinctive spells like magefire, it?s always the rational thought that brings my magic forward.?
He let out a sigh of relief. ?I always feel like people will think I?m off-kilter or something when I tell them what sorcery is like. Well? the first time I cast for real, it was a spell of invisibility. I had tripped in the kitchen and smashed a service plate? a very expensive service plate. I could hear the cook coming and I was so desperate to hide my mistake? instinct overcame me. I thought that if only the cook couldn?t see the shards of porcelain on the floor, I would be fine? In my panic, my mind had no time to push the magic back, and before I knew what I was doing, I was waving my hand and the shards disappeared from sight.?
I laughed. ?You discovered your sorcery because of a broken service plate??
For a moment he looked troubled, but then he chuckled a bit shakily. ?Yes. Not really heroic or glorious, is it??
?Well, it?s rather funny, actually. If you discovered invisibility because of a service plate, what made you grasp the fireball??
He laughed. ?A very cold stream I had to wash in.?
I stared at him in disbelief. ?That can?t be true.?
?Oh, yes!?
I giggled. ?And Magic missile??
?Someone?s rear end who deserved a good butt-kicking. But that?s the last one that?s funny, though. I learned the other spells from example, by other wizards casting them while I watched. When I thought hard enough on it, I would wake up one morning and be able to cast it.?
?You know, that?s unfair. Why do I have to ruin my eyes on a spellbook every night while you just sleep and learn it all over again overnight??
He shrugged, a rueful look on his face. ?I don?t control it any more than you do, Nathyrra.? Then a wry smile made its way on his face, stretching his full lips into a devastating smile. ?But I would gladly cast a few more light cantrips for you at night, so you don?t ruin your beautiful eyes.?
I smirked, pleased, and a few seconds of silence ensued. Then Stan took a breath and stood.
?Well, if I am to learn it all over again overnight,? Stan said, ?I have to catch some sleep. I?ll see you tomorrow.?
?Good night,? I answered.
He had taken a few steps away from the table when he turned back around and smiled at me. ?It was nice to speak with you tonight, Nathyrra. We should do it again some other time.?
?Yeah, that would be nice.?
And Stan left, leaving me grinning like an idiot at the empty corridor.
Edited by DalreïDal, 07 March 2008 - 10:34 AM.
Cheers! And two horns up for metalheads all around the world!
