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[Shadowhawke]

This is a short story I wrote on FWP, with a few modifications. A few more should come along, and I can't be sure yet, but I'll add separate ratings and disclaimers on each. However, I'm not anticipating anything too extreme. Most of these stories will probably be around PG.

Thankyou, all.

[Shadowhawke]

Derran's Scar


Derran watched as his opponent circled him, his hands hanging negligently by his side.
How had it come to this? He wondered. A simple insult, anger on both sides, why should the result be a death?
As he reflected upon the situation yet again, he heard Aerie's protests drifting from the Copper Coronet's rooms. He smiled wryly. He had told Aerie to stay in their rooms... if anything happened, he was afraid that she might get hysterical.
Not that she would, of course, but just in case. Derran didn't really find the thought of Aerie shooting off a magic missile if he was half-dead appealing. It would mean trouble from all sides.
As he began to reflect, however, on whether it had been wise to tell Aerie to stay in her rooms, his adversary broke into his thoughts.

"One of us is going to die," the man hissed, still circling him.

"My deepest apologies to your family," Derran commented blandly.

The man cackled, throwing his head back to allow the laugh to escape. "Cocky, eh? You won't be so cocky when I'm done with you... you'll be in your grave!"

"Good luck," Derran shrugged coolly. "You could try to get all the assorted bits of dust into a grave, but you wouldn't succeed."

The man lost his smirk rather quickly. "What do you mean?"

Derran sighed. "You've picked a fight with the wrong elf, you know. I'm a Bhaalspawn."

"You elves are all trash anyways," Bermin snarled.

"Thanks," Derran commented dryly. "But I would beg to differ."

"You crazy pointy-eared freaks," Bermin spat. "I hate you and your pretty guts!"

"My guts aren't all that pretty," Derran informed him calmly. "Just thought you might like to know..."

"Get your swords and fight me, dammit!" howled Bermin.

"Why?" Derran inquired. "You want this fight, not me."

"Pansy elven coward!"

"Do you want to end this fight before I have to kill you?" Derran asked honestly, changing his tone.

Bermin leapt at him, his sword outstretched. Derran shifted easily with a lithe grace, allowing the bigger man to rush past him. The air ruffled his brown hair lightly into disarray.

"Stand and fight me like a man you miserable elf!" Bermin howled as he turned around.

"I couldn't fight you like a 'man' if I tried," Derran pointed out, allowing the smallest hint of a smile to touch his face.

Bermin roared and brought his sword down on him again, and this time, two swords flickered lightly out to meet it with a soft clang.
Bermin's eyes grew more enraged. As he gathered himself for a rush again, Derran pivoted and swung himself neatly out of the charge.

"Stop dancing and fight me!" snarled Bermin.

"Dancing?" Derran queried, grinning openly now. "Better to be a dancer than a beached whale."

"Fool bard..." Bermin grew redder and redder, and then suddenly stopped. His piggish eyes grew wide.
"Elves can't be bards!"

"Who ever said?" Derran asked, the small smile cracking into a grin across his handsome face.

"You've crossed the elven traditions!" Bermin yelled, pointing an accusing finger at him.

Derran felt his companions' eyes on him... those who had elected to stay, anyway. But his elven instinct told him that Aerie had won the argument with whoever it had been, and was now watching avidly. Derran nodded slightly. No magic would need to be used in his defense. He had gauged the man's attacks already, and his conclusions did not look promising for Bermin.
"Well, so what?" he smiled. "I've a reputation for breaking rules. Why should I stop now?"

"You..." panted Bermin, hate dripping from his tone.

"Why would you care if I crossed the elven traditions?" pressed Derran with an impish grin. "I thought you hated elves and spat on all of their traditions?"

Bermin didn't answer. He couldn't really. Everything that Derran said was true. Nonetheless, he answered with a biting thrust.

Derran parried it easily.

"I hate you," Bermin hissed as he swung his blade violently with no avail.

"You've made that abundantly clear in the last ten minutes," Derran murmured. "Pray tell me something new."

With a bellow of rage, Bermin threw himself into just that. A rage. With berserker strength, he started cutting wildly through the air, his sword flashing as quickly as five. Derran began to defend himself in earnest.


"I... can... kill... any... lowly... elf!!!" Bermin proclaimed wildly, panting through his violent gasps.

"Not this one you can't," Derran replied easily.



Bermin lay on the ground. Derran looked down at him.

"And just one last thing," he mentioned politely. "You're going to have a blinding headache tomorrow. Use this." He threw a small healing potion on the comatose man.

With a cordial bow, he left the dueling ring, leaving Bermin knocked out cold on the floor.


Derran winced as Aerie ran her fingers down his chest. Her light touch sent electrical pulses tingling down his body.

"Sorry," Aerie quickly pulled her fingers back.

"Don't be," Derran held her gentle fingertips to his heart. "Don't be at all."

Aerie smiled shyly up at Derran, and then withdrew her hand as she felt the familiar touch of scar tissue underneath her sensitive skin.

"What's this?" she asked, tracing the scar delicately.

"It's..." Derran looked down at the silvery slash over his heart. He smiled. "It's a reminder."

"A reminder of what?" Aerie inquired.

Derran closed his eyes, leaving his smile on his face. "A reminder that there's always someone better out there."

[Shadowhawke]

Disclaimer: PG, with Romance, perhaps a bit of language, and violence.
Enjoy!

Amber?s bad day


Anomen sighed softly as Amber walked stiffly from the firelight. He wondered worriedly what was wrong. He knew something was. The arch of her back and her neck plainly bespoke her rigidness... but he knew not whether it was from anger, worry, sadness, or what.

"She needs time alone."
Anomen had just been about to slip unobtrusively off into the night when Jaheira cornered him. He immediately wiped the guilty look on his face off with an extreme effort.

"I was just about to... um... relieve myself," Anomen stuttered.

"Oh really?" Jaheira raised her eyebrow, almost smiling at the knight's embarrasment. "Well come back in about five minutes, won't you? I've got some work for you."

Groaning in abject humiliation, Anomen left. When he was finally out of earshot, Jaheira chuckled.


Amber stalked through the woods, her anger flaming. She didn't know why, but just the mere sight of the knight on the other side of the fireside had been enough to get her worked up. His blue, blue eyes gazing through the firelight straight at her had triggered off something she had wanted to stay put, and so now, she was walking. Angry, helpless, confused.

It didn?t make sense. She didn?t know why just looking at him made her go weak at the knees. She was a logical person. It frustrated her that she didn?t know why this was happening.

It was? it was? it wasn?t fair!

In another situation, Amber would have laughed at her petulance. She didn?t normally sulk. She?d learnt that it didn?t really do anything?

A twig cracked behind her.

?ANOMEN!!!!?

Anomen winced as Amber?s shriek hit his eardrums violently, not questioning how he knew she knew he was following her. ?Yes??

?Don?t follow me like that!? Amber gasped, spinning around and glaring at the knight accusingly.

?I?m sorry, my lady,? Anomen apologized contritely. ?But you seemed, preoccupied. Mayhap I can ease your worries??

Amber looked at Anomen in frustration, a half-smile twitching unwillingly on one side of her lip.
?Mayhap you can.?

Dammit, why was she going weak at the knees? Why? She?d never felt like this before.
Don?t look at his eyes? don?t look at his eyes?

She looked at them.

Oh Gods?. His eyes?

His confused delft-blue eyes drew her in to their liquid depths. Without a struggle, she let herself be absorbed, revelling in every magic-tingled minute of it.

?Are you, are you feeling better my lady?? asked Anomen uncertainly, looking perplexedly at the ranger staring at him. He felt slightly uncomfortable, and yet he didn?t want the moment to end. He wanted to savour it, lock it away in his heart to treasure for an eternity...

?Yes Anomen,? Amber said softly, still mesmerized. ?I?m feeling much better, thanks??

Edited by Shadowhawke, 03 May 2004 - 08:49 PM.

[Shadowhawke]

Disclaimer: A bit of violence here, but nothing else, really. Rated PG, as per usual
This was a little rushed, so I'm sorry. I know the quality will not be very good, however, I will edit this... sometime...

Path of Voices

Heedless of his dripping cloak trailing with mud, Gorion kept going. He glanced sharply back once, just to reassure himself that the two youths were keeping up. They were. Satisfied, Gorion kept moving, the pressing need for urgency directing his thoughts.
Jaheira and Khalid had to be at the Friendly Arm. He prayed that they were. If... if Elminster was correct, which he always was, there were people on their tail. Powerful people. The old sage knew that he was strong, but against the pitted might of a fully grown Bhaalspawn... he was not sure if he could survive.
He glanced back again at one of the youths, her trailing crimson curls falling down across her pale face. He felt his heart clench. Those... those footpads had almost killed her. He couldn't believe it. Well, he really could. He knew who they were facing up against.
Suddenly, a flash of apprehension broke his structured thoughts.

"We are walking into an ambush!" Gorion snapped. "Prepare yourself!"

Arian whipped up her pensive head quickly. "Wha...?"

"You are perceptive for an old man," grated a voice from the shadows. "You know why I'm here. Hand over you wards, and no-one will get hurt!


Arian stared as a huge armoured man, with a group of others, entered the clearing. A huge helm surmounted his head, showing his blazing eyes underneath. Two ogres and a woman accompanied him, all clad in various forms of armour.


"I'd be a fool to trust your benevolence," Gorion growled. "Step aside, and you will leave unharmed."

"I'm sorry you feel that way, old man."


It was quicker than Arian had expected. Her dulled mind suddenly woke up under the threat of attack, and her staff leapt into her hand instinctively. She looked around for Imoen, but her friend had disappeared.
Low incantations immediately brought her back to the present. Gorion and the woman were both enwreathed in magic, until Gorion spotted her when he looked up briefly again.
"Run child! Get away from this place!"
"No!" shouted Arian.
"Run!" Gorion shouted desperately.
But Arian's eyes hardened. Something deep within her enchanting, emerald green eyes swirled threateningly. Gorion stared at her in disbelief, even as he struck down one of the ogres.
Light seemed to be twirling around her body. She clenched her fists and let her staff drop to the ground, bouncing on the fresh ground, spattered in mud. She could feel power surging among every vein, insinuating itself into her bloodstream, echoing in her mind, whispering instructions.


Tamoko yelled with fright as she felt a savage pain in her leg. Turning around, her violet eyes widened as she saw a wolf, its emerald eyes tinged golden, its fangs flecked with blood...
Her own blood.
Arian snarled, her growl rumbling deep in her throat. As the armoured fighter/mage reached for her sword, she heard the voice inside her head again.
?Dodge, and then go for the Achilles tendon,? the nonchalant voice instructed her coldly. ?She will be crippled, and then you can go for the throat.?
Arian felt a shudder as the compulsion to obey the orders grew strong. The blood tasted like fire in her mouth, and she found herself hungering? hungering for more?
?No!? she barked savagely, and then, as the sword point came swinging down, she leapt smoothly, tackling Tamoko to the ground. They simultaneously rolled, and then sprang back up to their feet again lithely.
The circling began. Arian fixed her eyes on Tamoko?s own, warily assessing her opponent. The familiar scene brought another voice into her head. Jondalar?s.

?You?ve got to be careful when you?re circling. The moment you decide to attack, your opponent might decided to attack as well. Then it depends on who has the faster reflexes. Reflexes, girl. That?s all what counts. Why, Ardulia??

Arian forcefully pushed the voice away from her mind, although silently accepting the advice. She would attack first, but make sure she had time to react.
Her muscles tensed, and then she leapt, snarling, at Tamoko again. The sword came down a mere breath too late, and Arian avoided the swing, and kept going, ploughing straight into full plate mail, sending Tamoko crashing to the ground. She felt a small tingling underneath her paws. This armour? the sword? it was all enchanted.
Tamoko screamed as she saw the baleful eyes meet her own, and the wolf lunged forwards, its curved fangs edging closer to her throat.

?Grasp the throat,? the voice urged her, inside her head. ?Rip it out, and then feast on the blood??

Arian shuddered, transfixed by the offer, but then shook her head violently. ?NO!?


In the shadows, Imoen held a single dagger in her hand. Winthrop had pressed it on her, and she knew that it was slightly enchanted. Enchanted enough to not break if she forced it through armour.

?Cut her throat,? the voice whispered sibilantly into her ear. ?She is going to kill your sister. Cut her throat.?

Imoen recoiled, her eyes going wide with fear as she read the hungry bloodlust behind the offer.
?No,? she whispered. ?I can?t.?
And then she darted out of the shadows, and brought the dagger?s hilt full on Tamoko?s struggling head, knocking her out.


Arian leapt off Tamoko?s prone body, and nodded at Imoen, her eyes conveying the human words her wolf?s mouth could not form. Together, they looked to where Gorion and the armoured figure were battling.

Gorion was surrounded with five enchantments at least, seemingly immune to the powers of the figure?s sword. But his face was creased with sweat as he sent magic missile after magic missile, and then Melf?s Acid Arrows, and then Flame Arrows? and then?
The magical energy at his hands suddenly petered out. The two friends looked at each other in horror, and then Arian leapt for the armoured figure, while Imoen melted into the shadows again?


The armoured figure lay prone at their feet, breathing heavily. His breastplate was heavily dented, and, as Arian kneeled over, once again in her human form but with her cloak obscuring her face, to inspect him, she realized that his ribs must have been cracked, and so he couldn?t breathe properly.
Burning eyes glared back at her.
?Go on, kill me, sister,? the hollow grating voice spat. ?Why don?t you??
?Sister???
?Gorion?s ward. You are a Bhaalspawn just like me,? the voice echoed horribly. ?Feel the death in your veins??

?He?s right. Kill him,? the sibilant voice hissed.
?Feel the blood.?
?Taste it.?
?Feed on it.?
?Feel your power growing.?
?As you murder more and more??
?You will never be able to escape it??
?Feel the hate growing??
?Kill him.?
?Kill him.?

Imoen and Arian looked at each other over the prone form. ?No,? they echoed simultaneously.

At the sound of their voices, the figure?s eyes suddenly snapped open. Heaving himself onto his elbow, sending Arian and Imoen backwards, he stared at them in disbelief.
?Imoen? Arian?? he stuttered.
Their eyes widened, and the two youths cast off their hoods. The voice? so familiar, now? the sound of their names pronounced thus?
?Take off my helmet,? gasped the figure, looking pleadingly at them .?Take it off. Know me.?
The two looked at Gorion, who stared back at them. Blood from a deep gash trickled down his face.
Slowly, Arian took off the helmet.
?Sarevok.?
?Brother.?

[Shadowhawke]

Disclaimer:

A Cold Silhouette

Arian howled, feeling the cry rush out from her belly, rumble satisfyingly through her throat, to be released into the cool night. It was almost dawn. She heard a shadow move, and smiled. A clanking sound made her shake her head in amusement. She hated armour. Of course, she could see why Sarevok needed it, and it had saved his life many a time in this conquest to undo all of his plots, but still... it made sneaking impossible.

She felt a warm hand on her shoulder, and shifted slightly, pressing her warm body to Gorion's. He smiled in the near-darkness, the moonlight catching his teeth and flashing white.

"I am glad, Arian. I... never believed that you would really be a murderer. I... hoped."

"I am a murderer, though."

The thought leaped from her mind to his. He shook his head gently, knowing that she couldn't see him, but doing it nonetheless.

"You aren't a murderer, Arian. You kill for justice and the righteous balance. I, too, believe that a determined pursuit of good will do nothing to upset the balance. It's... unbalanced, after all."

"But when I kill... the voices come back. They tell me... to do horrible things..."

"But you fight against it," Gorion whispered with pride. "You and Imoen both."

Arian said nothing more. She knew that she couldn't really. However, she wondered at Gorion's high spirits. Why was he so happy? And the lavish praise? Gorion never usually praised her... just the approving or disapproving glint in his eye told her his moods. But then... perhaps the success of the previous missions had changed him as surely as he had changed Sarevok. The gentle sage's humour had also changed... going from a nonexistent -3 rating to at least a 5, now. She rated Imoen at 10. Sarevok's black humour would probably be at 7.

Cloaked in the shadows, they hastened forth, stealing their way through the darkness. Candlekeep's walls stood brightly before them. Gorion already had a tome under his sleeve. The group of six passed quickly through the gatehouse, Minsc and Imoen utilizing their hide in shadows ability once again. Dynaheir and Gorion merely used invisibility spells, on themselves and Sarevok. Arian had no need of any of them. None noticed her as her purely wolf form melded with the night. Jaheira had commented on that, once, before she and Khalid had left for other Harper matters. She had wondered why, like most shapeshifters, she could not change into a wolf-man hybrid. Arian had shrugged. It seemed to be either pure wolf or pure half-elf... but even then, the 'pure wolf' had more powers than Jaheira's. Both had wondered why. They'd never gotten an answer.

"Are you sure they will be there?" Gorion asked Sarevok, cautious once more. His initial elation seemed to have faded.

"Of course," Sarevok snorted.

They continued their way silently, up the stairs... until the third level.

They crept slowly towards the far end, until a glimmering fire could be seen, bathing Reiltar and his henchmen in an orange glow. Before they could carry on with their plan, Minsc opened his mouth.

"There you are! Evil is never found in good libraries, pretending to be good! Come now, let Minsc and Boo correct that!! Evil, meet my sword, sword, meet EVIL!!!"

Before any of the shocked six could react, Minsc was surging ahead. Sarevok swore.

"Curse the fool ranger!"

"Silence thy tongue, fighter. Thou shalt not dirty my ranger's name," Dynaheir snapped. A hold spell flashed from her fingertips, freezing Minsc in midair just before the doorway.

"Stop it, both of you!" Gorion overrode them both.

"What is this?" Reiltar asked lazily from the doorway. Then his eyes slowly widened. "Sarevok? I heard news that you were here... but I..."

The widening eyes quickly narrowed. "Sarevok, I have heard that you are behind the saving of Nashkel and the destruction of our Cloakwood mines."

"You heard right, father," sneered Sarevok.

"You... you have betrayed me?!"

"Took your precious time," Sarevok snorted.

"But... but..."

"Yes, I've been living quite the double life... at HQ by day, with my true family at night... but now, it is time to end this with your life!"

Reiltar's eyes flamed. "Why?!"

"Simply because this is wrong. I tried to reason with you yesterday. You simply brushed me aside."

"I thought you were jesting..."

"But you have no intention of stopping this evil, do you?"

"No."

"You can see we really don't have a choice, can't you, dear father? You persist in killing innocents... that cannot be allowed."

"What's happened to you? You've gone so soft," sneered Reiltar. "Fine! You were never much use to me anyway! Attack!!!"


Minsc unfroze just in time, and his downward swiping two-handed sword found one of Reiltar's lackeys. There was a hideous scream, and then Imoen, Arian, and Sarevok saw the blood.

"Blood... more..."
"Feel the screams."
"Tear his throat out!"
"Pull his heart out!"
"That one deserves a long death... rip his entrails from him!"
"You want the blood."
"You feel the blood."
"It is in you."
"The Legacy."
"You want more... more..."
"You always want more..."
"The blood..."
"The screams..."
"The torture..."
"The murder..."

"NO!!!" they all screamed out loud.


It was over. Reiltar lay dead, along with his lackeys. Gorion was explaining to the Candlekeep monks what had happened. He and Dynaheir had the evidence that Sarevok had gathered. Arian was with him. Minsc was enjoying the wilderness of the Candlekeep forest. Imoen and Sarevok stood alone in the library, the pool of blood on the carpet all that remained of Sarevok's former foster father.

"You'll never be able to forget, will you?" Imoen whispered, a sudden realization blanking the innocence in her eyes.

"No," Sarevok replied heavily.

Sarevok closed his eyes, grateful for the helm that hid his tears. She was so right... and so innocent. He could see the innocence behind her smile, ingrained into her very face.
And he saw his own face. Suddenly, everything seemed to switch to a third-person view, and he saw himself.
He saw himself standing, the sun pouring through the window. Yet he felt the slow prick of frost numbing his bones.
The shadow that the sun cast. The shadow that would always be there.
The cold silhouette of memories.

[Shadowhawke]

Disclaimer: Warning, romance! Well, not much of one. But, if you don't like 'soppy' romance, don't read! No graphic scenes of any description. Just meanderings.

Bound

I loved him. I truly did. In fact, I still love him. Call me sad, stupid, naive, or whatever you want. He was a force to be recognized in this world. And, despite everything, I loved him.
Perhaps you are getting sick of me, no? I would not be surprised, to tell the truth. My meanderings are too much. Even for a bird. For a pet bird, at that.
Ah, tell me, Kameko. Where did you come from? You look so normal. No offense intended, of course, but you do. That's what made me so want to buy you.
No, perhaps I am wrong. You do not look normal at all. You are such a beautiful red color. You are the color of my love. Perhaps that is why I asked him if he could buy you for me. He always did spoil me. I loved him so...
Ah, you are bored, I can see. I truly do not blame you. Perhaps if you were as lovesick as I, you would understand.
I wonder if you have ever loved anyone, Kameko? If you did...


I was always known as just 'his lover'. He never had anyone to guide him, and that is why he turned out like this. I swear, Kameko. He is such a good man at heart. But his blood... his blood and his lack of guidance turned him this way. And that foul witch, as well. He was never evil. It was just that... that... witch. That witch and his abominable foster father. It was more he than his real father that I believe changed him so.
I remember when I first met him. It was not love at first sight, unlike all of the romances the bards sigh and sing about. In fact, I was fairly neutral about him.
Your beautiful eyes tell me that you think I'm joking. I'm not, I can assure you of that. I didn't dislike him, but I thought of him as a friend. I already loved someone else, you see.
It was a passing infatuation. Around three months after my infatuation stopped, my love hit me like a Bigby's Clenched Fist, and it held me just as tightly. Even now, I can't breathe when I think of him.
But then, I slowly realized that he thought of me as a friend as well. What irony. What utter irony.
And would you believe that I waited for three years? For three years, I only told my mother, my sister, and... well... a few people. But that was only when I was put under pressure by others. I didn't usually mix with those high-headed nobles. But I began to, for him. They were so... so... I hated them. Well, perhaps I didn't hate them, but their air-headedness was... extremely irritating.

I told them, but at least they either kept the secret or forgot.

But then one day, Kameko. One day, we were walking together by the Docks, and he started singing. He had a beautiful baritone voice. I had never known he could sing. Over the years, his voice had somehow grown harsher. It seemed laughable, now that I look back, but at that moment, I was entranced. As I was now.
But the words. The words I remember the most...

"And everything I prize is right here besides me..."

And he looked at me straight in the eye. Those beautiful, glacier blue eyes.
It took him two more months, and then, it was our first kiss.
I drowned in that kiss. Just like I drowned in those eyes...
I had waited for three years, Kameko. I was ready. More than ready. The warmth of his body against mine that night... and he let me touch his chest, where I could feel his heartbeat.

But the years went past. And then... he met that witch, Cythandria. And that's when he began to truly change. I realized he was truly lost to me when he detailed his plans to me like an excited little boy. That's why I had to contact Arian. But then...
My surprise. He was playing the double agent. My heart almost burst with joy. Then he confided in me, told me comfortingly why he had had to hide everything from me. To keep me safe.
I love him. I truly love him. Even after he betrayed us all. He's coming back, Kameko. I know he will come back. Sarevok Anchev has never given up. Never.

Kameko... are you a wild bird? I can... all of a sudden... I can tell you are.
Your golden cage is just that; a cage.
I cannot cage you. You are like my love. You must fly free.
Goodbye, Kameko. Watch for Sarevok Anchev. Send him my love. I will find him. I swear I will find him. I forgave him a long, long, long time ago.

********************************************************************

Tamoko gently took the ruby-colored bird in her hands. It lay passively in her hands, but then, a bright eye looked at her curiously. A tear crossed gently down her cheek.
"Goodbye, Kameko."
She lifted her hands in the air, and the bird flew away. She watched it go, and she felt another tear fall on the windowsill. She studied it. It was like a crystal, her face reflected in facets.
Like her love.
So many different faces. So many different facets. All bound in the crystal of her love.
Bound for an eternity in her heart.

Edited by Shadowhawke, 22 July 2004 - 01:11 AM.