The challenge was to write a story based around an atypical character. So I took Mongoose's Duo powerplayer idea, added lots of stupidity, then ran with it. The credit should go to him, the stupidity to me
Enjoy!
My Dear Ooc, eh?
~100% badfic by Earnest Yetbadd~
Two mages stood beneath the towering entrance to Candlekeep. The walls thrust a shadow across both their figures, turning the bent grey figure even greyer, yet failing the mask the diaphanous glow of the smaller figure's lime green robe.
Gorion spoke in a hurried whisper. "Come, Ooc, the night draws near and we have far to go." The old mage placed his hand on his charge's smooth forehead and frowned. "There is fever here, Ooc. I will see what I can do about it." He stepped back and waved his hands in a relatively uncomplicated motion that Ooc had all too often tried (and failed) to emulate. Light blossomed between his arms and spread across to the young elf.
"Ooh, light! Pretty cool, dad!
" Ooc gave his staff a few practise swings, but the years Gorion had spent in raising the rash elf had taught him well. The old mage stepped back with surprising agility. "Sorry, dad #
#." "It is no matter." Gorion glanced at the huge gates and the night stars glimmering beyond them. If only he had more time...
"So, dad, are we going? I'm kinda hungry here. :/" Ooc said.
Gorion reached into the depths of his robe and thrust a breadroll at the elf.
"Yummo!"
"And now, let us leave." The old mage placed a hand firmly on Ooc's slight back and directed him toward the exit. He wondered if he was doing the right thing.
As the gates closed behind them and they walked into the warm night, Ooc piped up, his voice merry in the darkness. "Uh, where are we going again?
" ~
"You know why I'm here. Hand over your ward and no one will be hurt. If you resist it shall be a waste of your life."
The warrior who stood before them was at least five feet tall by Ooc's estimation. He was dressed from head to toe in some type of metal and his eyes glared through the eyeslits in almost the same way Ooc's tutors used to glare at him. Ooc whistled. He was impressed.
"Quiet, Ooc!" Gorion's voice was hoarse. He pushed Ooc behind him and faced the tall figure.
"You're a fool if you believe I would trust your benevolence," Gorion's frail body did little to hide the elf peering out behind him, "Step aside and-"
"Sure thing, dad!
" "NOT YOU, OOC!" Gorion's eyes bulged as Ooc's elven figure popped out from behind him and danced toward the dark figure.
"No worries, dad, he said no one will be hurt, right?
" Ooc's smile was only just visible in the darkness. "By the way, what was that big word you used? You can't trust his beneva-what? That's the name of his dog, ri-OOK! 
" The armoured figure laughed and swung his mace before kicking Ooc's falling body. "A pity, Gorion, that you could not protect him." Teeth gleamed from behind the metal grid of the mask as he gestured toward his comrades. "To the next one." The group melted into the night as Gorion dropped beside the fallen elf.
"Ugh..." Ooc's face was pale, yet stil beautiful in the dim moonlight. "That man hit me... >
" Gorion reached down and pressed his hand to the wound. Warm blood seeped through his fingers. "Hold on, Ooc, I will do what I can to staunch the blood."
"Hold onto what, Dad?" Ooc reached out and grabbed a nearby flower. "This'll do. Ooh, pretty!
" Gorion thanked the stars that Ooc had not been blessed with more brainpower. As such, Sarevok's blow had done little besides give the water in the elf's skull a good slosh and mar his perfect features. Though Ooc would likely carry it off with a rakish air.
"Hey, let me try a healing spell, Dad!" Ooc grinned up at him.
"No, we must call for a cleric. You can barely perform spells as you are."
Ooc pouted, "You've aallllways said that. But just the other day, I managed to fire off a magic missile! Heh! That was cool!"
"Folding a magical scroll into a paper bird and sailing it around a room is not counted as firing a magic missile," Gorion sighed. "Ooc, really, you should try your hand at becoming a paladin. It would suit you so much bet-"
"Uh-uh. Not doing. Paladins are borrrrring.
" Ooc lay back. "But boy does my head hurt! What happened?" Gorion wished that he could attribut Ooc's forgetfulness to Sarevok's blow, but his wisdom told him otherwise. "Lie still, Ooc, and I shall find a cleric to heal you."
"Sure thing, dad!" He lay back and listened to the footsteps fade into the distance. There had been a tall man... and a beautiful woman by his side. Ooc frowned. He'd never got to ask her for her A/S/L.
Five seconds later, his attention span ran out and he began to sing a beautiful elven melody. Forgetting his headwound, he stood up and danced lightly in a ring, praising the moon as he did so. Footsteps approached. He pulled out his glasses (his poor eyesight came from studying mage scrolls into the wee hours) and squinted at the newcomers. One was Gorion. The other was dressed in the short robe of a cleric and grinning. As they came closer to Ooc, the cleric spoke. "G07 hi7 0n 7h3 h34d, did y0u? Si11y 00c!"
Ooc smiled broadly through the pain. "Heya L33t!
" Gorion watched as the large cleric knelt beside the fallen elf and begin the healing spell. Thank the gods, he thought, that Bhaal had spawned twins and that one of the twins had a talent for healing. He listened to their excited babble and mentally shook his head. But could not Bhaal have chosen a more... intelligent mother to bear his spawn?
Gorion stretched his aching frame and gazed down the road that led into the darkness. The Friendly Arm Inn lay at the end of it, but the road and the night were long. Looking again at the twin brothers, both now grinning up at him, he realised that it was likely he would have to guide them through their entire adventure from this point. Now if only he had some intelligent company...
He prodded the boys to their feet and stepped forward. No doubt he'd find some companions to keep him sane. Probably on this very road. Perhaps in Nashkel. Who knew what lay ahead?
The Baldur's Gate saga had begun.
