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[cdrradar]

At the request of select people I presume would like to remain nameless, I have chosen to convert my story for posting on this board.  This provides me with an opportunity for me to rework select pieces, and correct a few factual mistakes I've made in the past.

History of this piece:  Only Tarric's Journal Entries were posted on Bioware's boards, and the intended audience was for those who had played the game, thus little to no expansion was necessary.  When I was introduced to gamejag, much of the people over there were unfamiliar with Neverwinter Nights.  Thus, it became necessary to narrate the "inbetween" sections of the journal.  It also provided me an opportunity to flesh things out for my character, as well as to provide real backstory for things in the epilogue.  That, however, will come later as this progresses.

I patterned this story closely with how I played through the Official Campaign - among other consequences is my sticking with the rule of one partner.  Doesn't necessarily detract from the story - oh no, if anything I try to take advantage of that rule in this.

One thing I must make clear:  This will NOT be a walkthrough on the Official Campaign.  If anything, I kinda bypass many of the elements in the game here.  This is a story, not a guide to NWN OC munchkinism.  I also took some creative license with select characters, though nothing terribly out of whack.  If you're looking for a guide on how to play the OC, Brady Games has published a pretty good Official Campaign guide as well as a Worldbuilder Guide, and no doubt there's plenty of other online resources.  (I did use the Brady book as a reference for when I wrote when I was away from my computer.)

Now that that's out of the way...  This first chapter is completely brand new, just for the folks here at FW.

Now, sit back, and I shall tell you the tale of Tarric Senden, a Sunite and his struggles with love, for it can be the greatest of gifts, as well as the foulest of curses.

-- o --

Reproachment

The Hero of Neverwinter, Tarric Senden, walked about nervously in the common room of the barracks.  His almond eyes flicked from one table to another, hoping to maybe see something different.  Bouncing just above the neck of his red tunic, his blonde hair hung loosely behind him.  Red breeches covered the muscles working his anxious legs.  He stopped to take a deep breath, the cloth of his tunic stretching over his moderate yet powerful frame.  A follower of the Lady Firehair, he strove to let his clothing flatter his form - covering him, but hardly concealing him.  Spotting Kendrack behind the bar, he walked over to him.

Kendrack was the mayor of Port Llast, however it did not interfere with his personally taking care of the new guests in his barracks.  His aged eyes leveled on Tarric at his approach, and he slid his hand through his white hair.  "You look like ye could use an ale, lad," the mayor remarked, noting the slightly agitated state of the human before him.

Surprised at his offer, Tarric stated, "I'm surprised you would keep drinks like that here."

"Well, I keep a few select sundries on hand for special guests.  What'll ye have?"

"I think I'll take an ale, thanks."

Taking the tankard, he flipped a coin on the bar.  "'sallright, lad.  This one's on me."

"Thank you again, sir," replied a smiling Tarric.  He left the bar to sit at an empty table.  Sipping the ale, he took a moment to collect his mind over the events of the past.  Before he could concentrate, however, a far door past the bar opened, revealing a dark-skinned human, his black hair curled in braids around his head.  His powerful arms swayed at his sides purposefully.  The elf behind him, Tarric recognized immediately.

She wore her familiar plate mail, the prominent spike gorget atop her left shoulder one recognizable feature of the paladin.  The other feature, and far more recognizable, is the cleavage-baring breastplate, most unusual for armor of the type.  Nonetheless, the armor shined with her every movement as they walked toward Tarric.  Her appearance was every bit as striking as it was when he first met, however, and his heart raced as she came closer.

Standing up, he noticed there was a far more reserved and guarded expression in her manner, a stark contrast to the confident and radiant air she once possessed in Neverwinter.  The dark-skinned human gave way to the elf behind her, and she approached her champion.  "M'lady," said Tarric, offering his hand.

Aribeth took his hand in hers as she began, "It is good to see you here in Port Llast, my friend.  If we are to have any luck in tracking down this strange cult behind the plague, it will be with your aid I am sure.  I do not know how much you have been told about Lord Nasher's orders.  I shall help you understand whatever I can, certainly."

"I am more concerned with how you are holding up, m'lady," replied the Sunite.

Though grateful, she could not allow herself to be distracted from the purpose of their first meeting.  Releasing his hand, she continued, "How I feel is... unimportant, Tarric, next to the mission we have been given. Please, allow me to explain what is required of us."

Her tone subdued significantly when she mentioned her deceased lover's name.  "You know, of course, that Desther and... and Fenthick... were associated with some manner of religious cult that was behind the Wailing Death in the city.  We know so little about this cult... and it would be foolish in the extreme to suppose that simply because their activities in Neverwinter have been stopped, that they have been defeated.

"Lord Nasher commands that we track down the headquarters of this cult, and discover their plans... and stop them, before another atrocity is committed. Aarin Gend, Lord Nasher's spymaster, is here in Port Llast to help us do this... and has brought reports of many strange activities throughout the northern lands."  The dark-skinned human nodded briefly at the mention of his name.

"It is possible that agents of the cult may be behind some of these activities. If so, we may be able to find them and discover where their base is located. Your aid in this, Tarric, will prove invaluable."

Unable to ignore his sensitivites to the Lady before him, he asked, "How are you feeling, m'lady?  This must be a terrible strain."

Her voice betrayed the sorrow in her heart.  "Aye, it is, as I am sure you can well imagine.  Fenthick... my only love... dead at the hands of my lawful liege.  His true murderers, however, lie invisibly beyond my reach.  I wish, with such fervor that it frightens me, to see those allies of Desther pay - to see Tyr visit them with terrible justice! I am a paladin of Tyr, sworn to uphold good and justice... yet somehow I cannot condemn Fenthick in my heart.  He meant only to do what he saw was his duty, I am sure of it."

"I know, m'lady."  Looking down, he took her hand into both of his.  The Sunite's own voice carried his sympathies as he said, "It is very sad, what happened to him.  In Sune's name, I am very sorry for your loss, m'lady."

Feeling the heat in his hands, she gently squeezed them as she said, "I... thank you, Tarric. That is kind of you to say.  My own loss seems insignificant, however, compared to Fenthick's disgrace.  It... ah, but I should not be distracting you from your task, Tarric.  My own problems are unimportant and of no interest to you, I am sure.  Please forgive me."

Questing eyes looked into the paladin's as Tarric all but begged, "No, no, m'lady, go on.  Please, tell me what you were going to say."

"It... it is just that Fenthick's fate could have been mine.  Or yours.  Or anyone's.  How do you know that the path you walk is the correct one?  I have never questioned my faith or my duty before. But neither did Fenthick.  I feel... doubt, Tarric, and I am ashamed to admit it.  Perhaps I am merely wallowing in my sorrow, perhaps I know my path better than I think I do, but I am no longer sure.  Is it wrong for me to think such thoughts?"

Tarric shook his head briefly with his reply.  "Never, m'lady.  It is never wrong to question.  What's important are the answers you receive."

"Yet I have no answers, only more questions."  Aribeth took a deep sigh in relief with the sympathies afforded by Tarric.  Releasing the Sunite's hands, she continued, "Thank you for allowing me to unburden my heart, but perhaps it is best if I put these thoughts out of my head, for now.  The safety of Neverwinter relies on your mission, and my duty regarding that is more than clear.  Let us speak of that, instead."

"Yes, m'lady, however I believe the next person to talk to is our esteemed Spymaster.  Aarin Gend?" he said, his open hand extended.

The Spymaster warmly shook his hand as he began, "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Tarric Senden.  Tales of your deeds in Neverwinter have been whispered by many, and it is an honor to meet you, and I offer my congratulations on a job well done.

"As for me, I am Aarin Gend, Lord Nasher's Master of Spies of the Sword Coast.  My place lies in the shadows, looking for vipers in their nests before they strike, listening to the whispers of the dark.  There are many who whisper your name, and it is my business to listen to them all.  I should have foreseen the actions of this cult, but they move beyond my sight and hearing.  Instead of recriminating myself for my failures, I will do my best to repair the damage, and to do that I will do what I can to aid you in your task."

"Even the best of us have suffered setbacks, my friend.  She stated that you have brought your reports of strange occurences in this area?"

"Aye.  What happenings around here are related to the cult, however, I do not know.  That will be for you to determine.  Information you acquire should be brought directly to Aribeth, especially information that may lead to where the cult is based.  Information on that will be most valuable, however she will insist on having two separate leads before we act upon any information.  We cannot afford a mistake."

"I understand.  What information do you have that you think may be the most relevant?"

"Ah yes.  To the north are some hills, in which lie some caves, where several humanoid tribes are known to exist - goblins, bugbears, and the like.  Now normally they are not much of a concern, save for that they infrequently plague upon the trade road between here and Luskan.  However, I have reports that these lesser humanoids are being organized by someone, and that is not an easy task.

"What the purpose is is still unknown, however their organization became more prominent only in recent months.  It may be coincidental, but I do not believe in coincidence.

"I do have other reports of happenings in the Neverwinter Wood to the east, and the Wildlands of the south road.  However what I have just told you may be the most promising."

"I thank you for the information, Aarin.  We may talk later, but I have pressing needs.  M'lady?"

"Yes, Tarric?"

"I will have need of my equipment in addition to some provisions."

"I have arranged for your accomodations as well, my friend."  Pointing to the door in the back, she stated, "Those are your quarters, and you will find your equipment stored there.  Anything else you may need can be acquired at the varied shops in town, as well as the temple of Tyr."

"Thank you, m'lady.  Please...  If you wish to talk, I'll listen, m'lady."

She swallowed briefly before saying, "Thank you, Tarric.  Go with Tyr's blessing then, and be safe."

He paused a moment, looking into the sad eyes of the paladin before him before he went to his quarters.  Once inside, he closed the door and leaned up against it.  His eyes closed behind the palms of his hands, Aribeth's eyes haunted him.  There was so much sadness there, witnesses to a crime.  Yes, a crime.

But what crime?

No answer came to him.  When no answers would come to him, he always had to look at himself.  He pulled out the small mirror beneath his tunic, and did exactly that.

The man in the mirror was confused, with a touch of sorrow and sympathy.  Before he could continue with anything, he had to steady his heart, and one of his favorite ways of doing that was to walk around.  Spotting his backpack on the bed, he opened one of the side pouches and took some of the coins from within.  Now is as good a time as any.  He went out shopping.

Taking his first look around, he learned of the different shops in town.  Eltoora of the Many Starred Cloak sold assorted magical items, Haljal of the Cracked Anvil held varied arms and armor for varied warriors, Ballard carried druidic supplies near his grove, and Alhelor filled the gaps with other miscellaneous supplies from within the Alliance Arms Inn.  Alhelor also held select silvered weapons and belladonna, but those were not Tarric's aim.

Perusing Alhelor's goods, he spotted several leather tomes, each holding a lock.  Noting his interest, the proprietor said, "Good for diaries and journals, friend."

"These are not spellbooks?"

"Ha-HA!  Hardly!  If a spellbook is what you're looking for, I'd suggest Eltoora of the Many Starred Cloak.  No, the pages in those books are empty."

Eyebrows raised in interest, he asked, "How much?"

"Three gold pieces, and I'll throw in a vial of ink and a fine quill for you."

"Done."

They completed their transaction, and Tarric returned to the barracks.  "Oye, laddie!  I was wonderin' where you were off to!" a halfling greeted him from sitting at a table, his head barely above the surface.

"Tomi.  Good to see you," he replied, showing little emotion for the small rogue.

Shifting uneasily in his seat, Tomi said, "You alright, lad?  You seem, uuh, preoccupied."

"I just need some time," Tarric deadpanned before walking into his quarters.

The halfling pulled the head-sized stein below the table.  "Something's eating him," he murmured to himself before taking an extended draught.

The Sunite set the book on the desk in his room and sat in the chair.  Assembling the materials before him, he took a deep breath to calm as many nerves as he can.  The small key opened the lock accompanying the book, and he opened it to the first blank page.  Tarric's hand holding the feathers, he lowered the tip into the vial, and the quill filled with ink along the spine.

"What is the day today..." he asked himself aloud, taking a deep breath.

--

Day 13 of Eleasis, in the Year of Wild Magic

I write this journal in an attempt to make sense of the most recent and horrific events at Neverwinter. The thoughts of a traitor and a conspiracy are most disheartening, for they place friend against friend. We rooted out the traitor in Neverwinter, Desther. I originally thought him to simply being haughty and arrogant, though now I wish I had thrust Left into his gullet, as I threatened to do so before, when I brought evidence of treachery - HIS treachery - to the attention of Fenthick. I should have seen it before - I regret not acting on my instinct before. I shall not hesitate to act again.

Fenthick died a fool. It would have been kinder of me to kill him myself when I had the chance, but my respect for Aribeth stayed my blade. I gave him a fair chance to redeem himself - at the tip of Right - but he recoiled. I said, "Join me against Desther, or die a traitor!" as I thrust Right at his throat. He retreated into a corner and lay there, afraid. I allowed him the dignity of returning to Neverwinter with me of his own accord, instead of in shackles like Desther.

Aribeth. Lovely Aribeth. At least that's how I thought of her when I was younger, even before she announced her Academy. I joined immediately for even the chance to work with her. It was after weeks in the Academy that I learned of Fenthick's courtship with her. It was a foolish reason to sign up - how could I, a commoner, ever to have a chance to catch her eye? Now with competition, and her marriage all but sealed, much of the joy I had felt faded, and it turned to drudgery.

I nearly resigned after hearing this.  I decided to stick with it, but for my own sake. The skills they taught are invaluable. I would never have imagined I would learn not only to stand on each hand individually, but with equal effort! They saw my aptitudes tended more towards melee combat than other worthy pursuits, though I tried to learn something of everything. Oldgerd showed me the various weapons, and Herban showed me how each is used. You'd think it's a simple matter to swing a sword, or use a mace. It's not.

I was most fascinated by the two-bladed sword. I was so intrigued, I immediately asked to hold it. Holding this magnificent weapon in my hands, it felt so natural. (Oldgerd didn't quite agree with me at first, since I nearly cut some of Bim's hair off.) I learned so quickly how to use this weapon, I decided it would be my weapon of choice. Herban tried to tell me about how fighting with this would be dangerous without the benefit of a shield. All combat is dangerous - you risk your life in every engagement. I never pursued the argument further with him. I'm still alive today, and the foes I have fought against have perished. I don't know if Herban is still alive after the attack on the Academy - I would like to share a final word with him.

I did learn another favorite weapon, called a greatsword. I was told it was originally called the two-handed sword. Whatever it's name is, it's a massive weapon. Rumored to take dragons down with a single swing. Though I honestly doubt that, I gave it it's due respect.

Graduation day came quickly, and it was time for my final tests. The combat tests were easy enough, and since that was my area of expertise, I knew I would be ready. I was somewhat dismayed, however, to discover my favorite weapon not with me. I found my greatsword, but my two-bladed sword was missing. It was not the day to quibble, so I went on to the testing area. I found the Hewwet's range, and took my missile test first, thinking I might as well get the tough part out of the way first. I noted that I was allowed any weapon from the weapon rack. I chose them all, and plugged the target with ease with each weapon. After passing that test, I took all the missile weapons to Oldgerd, and sold them! (Fool.) Much to my delight, I purchased my own two-bladed sword, and went to see Herban.

Graduation - high time, for I would receive Aribeth's own personal blessing. Though I had given up hope at receiving her special attention, it would still be a pleasure for this. It was right after I had received her blessing that we were attacked at the academy. Using my skills, I helped everyone repel the invaders from the graduation hall, and assisted in driving them out of the academy. Much to my horror, and to Aribeth's, the Waterdavian creatures had escaped and fled to the four districts of Neverwinter. She charged me with their recovery. Not just my first mission, but for Aribeth herself!

Aribeth was responsible for the creatures themselves, while Fenthick and Desther were responsible for discovering who was behind the Wailing Death. We already know, locally at least, who was responsible for the spreading of the plague.

I pursued my end of the mission with as much vigor as I could muster. It nearly got me killed, since I made my first attempts alone. It was costing me more gold than I was earning in loot, in tithes to the Recall Portal.

I first met Tomi Undergallows in the Hall of Justice. At the time, the idea of paying someone for assistance was an abhorrent idea - if gold is your only aim, how would I know he wouldn't kill me if it profited him? I realized that, through my own expenses, it wasn't totally unreasonable for one to expect pay. Though he wasn't a student at the academy, he is quite capable in his own way. Saved my neck a couple times, as I've saved his. His eye was keen to potentially lethal traps that were laid out before us, and he knew how to remove them.

His combat prowess didn't equal mine, but he certainly knew how to use his weapon to maximum effect. While I would be engaged at a foe's front, he would come around and sneak behind him and drop my foe with amazing lethality. When surprise isn't on our side, it's my flurry of attacks that would keep him alive. We learned how to mesh our attacks to foes that individually we wouldn't stand a chance against. People have said that many halflings can't be trusted. I would say that I trust Tomi.

And our gold piled up. From the loot we acquired, I was able to purchase new and better equipment. Tomi was able to keep his own, though his means of replenishment remained a mystery. Healing potions are always a necessity, but having a partner greatly reduces their need. After acquiring the first two trophies, I even asked Aribeth to keep her reward money. (500 dragons each is not to be lightly passed up.)

It was with Tamora, however, that proved to be rather enlightening. While we talked, it was clear to me she was preoccupied. She told me about a burly half-orc named Hoff who treated her in a manner less than that becoming of a gentleman. (Severe understatement.) After we copulated, I sought him out. When I saw him, a red flame raced through my soul as I charged after him. My original intent was simply to persuade him to not bother her again, in a fashion she suggested. But when I came upon him, the only thing I was able to think about was severing his bloated head from his torso with Left or Right - I hadn't made up my mind. A man who had done me no wrong, and I was ready to kill him in cold blood. I showed him the broach as proof of who sent me. As he boasted, I drew the Pair, wound up, and smacked Left against the side of his head. I followed up with Right across his knees, and brought Left along his neck as he fell to the ground. I dropped Pair, and drew One. As I hefted the massive weapon behind me, ready to behead him, he pleaded for mercy. I brought my weapon down, and smashed it into the stone on the other side of his head, letting his neck feel the blade. I brought my face next to his, and said simply, "Leave Tamora alone!" As I walked away, I'd swear I heard a little girl, whimpering.

What puzzled me was what had possessed me so. Had I not caught myself, I would have murdered someone. Not sure of myself, we walked back to the Moonstone Mask. Tomi had a look of disbelief. "Never saw that in ya," he stated.

"Mmm, I know. I never felt like that," I said.

"Say, with Tamora. Your first time?" he asked.

I stopped, startled. I finally replied with just a simple nod.

"And you've never had a ladyfriend before?"

"Can't say as I've had, no."

"Whew. You've certainly got some fire in ya. Women'll do strange things to ya, lad."

I nodded. "That's for sure. Felt good, but scary, you know?"

"Seeing what you did to poor Hoff, I think I hear ya. Might I say you need a night off?"

Laughing, I replied, "That was the idea with Tamora, not to go mad!"

"Well, this time, might I say you simply have a drink, and get some sleep?"

"Tell you what. Why don't I buy you a pass coin? I'm sure Ophala can accommodate you."

"I'll say yes before ya change yer mind." That was the first time I've seen a halfling keep up with a human.

After seeing to it that Tomi was taken care of, I went to see Tamora to tell her of my encounter with Hoff, as well as to thank her for her time. With another pass coin in my pocket, I went to see Luce.

I don't quite understand fully why people would find places like that distasteful. They provide a service that people are willing to pay for, and in some cases (like mine), teach a useful skill that most certainly wouldn't be taught at the academy.

That was some time ago.

The four creatures that were sought after, Aribeth wanted dead or alive. I loathed the idea of killing creatures needlessly. I simply wanted to help in getting the cure, but hopefully not at the expense of other living creatures. However, 2 creatures I had no problem with. An Intellect Devourer is a loathsome creature, controlling our minds and bodies one at a time. The only problem with them is their rarity - it's lucky they caught one in the first place. The Yuan-Ti most certainly had an unholy purpose, conjuring undead like corn in a field. The cockatrice I didn't face directly, the Bloodsailors did, the feathers of which they surrendered after dealing with a coup within their ranks.

The final creature presented a unique challenge - a dryad. However, she was caged by a sorcerer named Meldanen. She used her charm on him, and based on a diary, he became enamored with her. He went insane, his jealousy consumed him. There was no chance in reasoning with him - he had to be killed. When I saw the dryad in her cage, I was disheartened. I thought, "How could such a lovely creature be imprisoned like this?" Tomi snapped his fingers, and I shut my eyes, thinking back to the days at the Academy, to my infatuation with Aribeth, whom I served. I told her my purpose, and I was relieved that only a lock of her hair was needed for the cure. I set her free, and bid her farewell before her spell started taking hold of me again.

After returning to Aribeth with the final reagent, we proceeded to the anointing chamber for the spell to make the cure. It was there that Desther's treachery was revealed. The cure was made, but Desther summoned his false Helmites to kill everyone while he spirited away with Fenthick. A pitched battle ensued. Aribeth held a portal open for me and Tomi to go through. She told us that Desther and Fenthick went through it. We followed quickly, but Aribeth herself was unable to follow. After capturing Desther, we returned to Neverwinter.

It is now a tenday later. Aribeth is a broken woman, her heart scarred and wounded deeply, her eyes filled with hatred and revenge. Aribeth, ooh so Lovely Aribeth, how can I help mend your soul? I had hoped to gain her special favor, and now it's within reach. Before, I thought Fenthick's death would be the only way to her. Now it has occurred, and she's in so much pain, I fear I am in part responsible. Is it so wrong to take pleasure in such a fortunate happenstance? Would I be wrong in taking Aribeth for myself now? Ooh, how I long for a moment's peace apart from this torture!

Lord Nasher has charged us with the discovery of the source of the Wailing Death, and to put a stop to them before another atrocity occurs. Though I believe Aribeth's faith in Tyr is strong, I fear for her sanity, as I fear for my own. If only I could find some way to convey my heart to her, perhaps both of us could be healed. Only time will tell, though time may be our mutual enemy.

Blast it! The quickest way would be if she were to read this, but I fear she may not understand this and have me slain! Ooh Aribeth, please help mend my broken soul...

--

To be continued.