The Curse of Candlekeep, Fanfiction based on the BG series Options

[Sir_Carnifex]

Late one night while working on my mod, an idea to fill about one paragraph hit me. I decided to write it down before I forgot and it ballooned into this. As long as I had the prologue written, I decided I might as well post it and see if I get any more ideas to continue working on it. I don't think of myself as a good descriptive writer, but I'm trying to work on it. If you have a comment, please post it in a separate thread so this one won't get cluttered. I'm always looking to improve, so constructive criticism is very welcome.

The Curse of Candlekeep

PROLOGUE

"Nicotino."

Mid afternoon had arrived at the great library of Candlekeep. The sunlight beamed in through arched windows flooding a small room with warm light. It was a perfect day outside, but for the moment, an apparently insignificant young halfling was trapped inside seated behind a desk. He leisurely swung his legs under the desk while thinking of anything but what he was supposed to be thinking about. The voice did little to bring his mind back to reality. At least, the first voice...

"NICOTINO!!!"

This time the floor shook and the walls rattled. An odd-shaped wooden object teetered on the edge of the desk, then toppled off , clattering noisily upon the stone floor. With a start, the halfling jerked his head upwards, bringing his attention to bear on his tutor, Jacono.

"Yes?"

"That is the end of your lesson for today," the tutor began quietly. "I do hope you have been trying to pay closer attention to your studies than it appears. Feel lucky that you are Gorion's ward, else I would have no tolerance for your kind. And for the last time, you are NOT allowed to bring your pipe into your classroom! Understood?

"Yes, sir."

"Very good. You may arise."

Nicotino slipped off his seat until his feet landed on the floor. He remained standing there for a few seconds. Outside the birds could be heard warbling and the monks were chanting Alaundo's prophecies again. Somewhere in the distance the sound of a young girl's laugh floated through the air. The tutor loudly cleared his throat.

"Nicotino, I said that you could arise."

"I DID rise!" returned Nicotino indignantly.

"Oh! My apologies. Hehehe. You may go now. Don't forget to stoop by the inn. Winthrop has something to say to you."

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Nicotino trotted through the open door into Winthrop's Inn. He always wondered why Winthrop kept a fire blazing even on the warmest of days. Fortunately, he did not have to remain inside for long. This was Imoen's domain, not his. A portly man was reclining in a chair behind the counter, giving the impression that he was asleep. A few conspicuous snoring noises gave further evidence to that fact. Over against the far wall, Firebead Elvenhair, the grisled old wizard was poring over yet another tome. Other than those two, the main room of the inn was entirely empty.

Nicotino edged his way silently around the counter and crept close to Winthrop. The halfling reached for the innkeeper's arm to awaken him (he could reach no higher) and tapped firmly. One cough, a sneeze, and two snorts later, Winthrop opened his eyes and squinted at Nicotino.

"So it's only ye, young whippersnapper! What can ol' Winthrop do for ye?"

"Jacono told me that you wanted to speak with me," Nicotino explained. "Seeing your state of alertness, I gather that it must not be anything of importance. So, what is it?"

"Now ye don't be poking fun at ol' Winthrop. Yer father wishes to speak with ye. Best ye be going now."

Nicotino sighed in exasperation, "Why does everyone want to speak with me only to inform me that somebody else wants to speak with me? Nevermind. Say, you don't happen to have any more of that pipe leaf on you, do you?"

"No ye don't! Ye smoke any more of that stuff and ye'll have t' be doused. Off ye go!"

As Nicotino stepped out into the open air, he opened his hand and looked at his palm. A look of disappointment appeared on his round face.

Nuts! Is that all he had in his pocket?!

And with that thought, he popped them into his mouth and marched towards the library.

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"Nicotino! How fortunate for you to pass by!"

Phlydia had appeared from nowhere just outside the door. Nicotino hated being near Phlydia for she was the only person in Candlekeep capable of holding a long conversation with him when he did not desire one. Perhaps that was because she did all the talking.

"Hello, Phlydia! I really regret that I can't stop to --" he began, hoping to avoid her.

Phlydia paid no attention to him and carried on, "Hey, have you seen my copy of The History of Halruaa anywhere? You know how I can't stand the constant shuffling of arthritic feet up in the library... So I thought I'd get a bit of fresh air just east of here and... Oh, I hate being so absent-minded! Oh! And my ring! It's missing and I know I just had to have dropped it somewhere. Please, if you find them, I really do need them back."

A grin spread across Nicotino's face. "I'm sure I can find your book, but that ring is a small thing and it's probably lost for all ages. And you know, arthritis will still bother you out here. It's not just being in the library that causes it!"

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The afternoon sun scorched Nicotino's face as he wiped the sweat from his brow. Everybody at Candlekeep used him as an errand boy and nothing else. First it was Phlydia's book, then Dreppin's cow, Hull's sword, and a myriad of other odds and ends. For once, he wished that people would treat him as if he were one of them -- at least a very short one of them. But no, he had to be the little kid messenger.

Why do they have to pick someone with such short legs to do all the running?

But now, all those simple tasks were done and he stood at the entryway to the inner wall. It was time to see what Gorion wanted.

Nicotino padded under the arch and into the garden-like area surrounding the library where he was immediately pounced upon by a familiar pink-clad figure.

"Heya! It's me, Imoen! I'm surprised that stuffy ol' Gorion let you away from your studies and chores. That ol' fiddle faddle. I snuck off too. Old Puffguts Winthrop was looking for me, but I've got all day to do his chores. You have time for a story today? No, I can tell you don't. What have ya been up to?"

"I'm afraid I cannot chat today, young one. My foster-father wishes to speak to me, but I do not know why."

"Young one? I'm not much younger than you, though you sure got tall fast. Relatively, anyway. I'll bet ya it's a journey! I never get to travel. Wish I could go with ya. Yep, I really wish I could. Yessir. Really do."

"It sounds like you know more about what he wants than I do. No matter, I'll find out soon enough. As for you, you may want to avoid Phlydia for awhile. I told her you might know where her ring is. See you later...much later!"



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Gorion was pacing back and forth on the library steps anxiously awaiting. Nicotino had never seen him look nervous before. Gorion wasted no time getting to the matter at hand.

"This is very unnerving, I know, but you must trust me. It is very important that we leave Candlekeep immediately. Hurry, for there is no time to tarry! The keep is well protected, but not invulnerable."

"If we are leave, I need to grab some things first," said Nicotino.

"Do you have your sling with you?"

"Yes."

"Good. That's all you'll need for now. All your practice on the Candlekeep windows may come in useful. We can pick up any extra equipment later. Come, we must be off."

In a daze and still unsure what was happening, Nicotino hurried to keep up with the pace of Gorion as they passed back into the main courtyard and out to the gatehouse. There they stopped for a few seconds as Gorion gave him one last piece of advice. Then they were off again out into the wilderness where the gathering dusk soon enveloped them.

[Sir_Carnifex]

It's been awhile but I finally got around to writing some more of this. As always, comments are welcome.

Enjoy!

CHAPTER 3

Nicotino and Montaron had been laboriously trudging down the Trade Way in the blistering hot sun for several hours. The sun was just beginning to set. Along the way, Montaron had dealt with a few rampaging kobolds but had snapped his sword in the process. The two extras he had taken from the fallen enemy did not last much longer either, both of the brittle blades having broken against the leather armor of some abushing hobgoblins.

Montaron looked down to the bladeless hilt he grasped in his hand. "Blast! That be the third one o' them that's fallen t' pieces on me!" he roared in disgust. He hurled the ruined blade into the air where it sailed for a time before dropping with a splash into a nearby pond. Several fish jumped out of the water.

Standing nearby, Nicotino helplessly watched his fellow halfling vent his rage. His own sword remained intact in his hand thanks to his having let his companion take the brunt of the fighting. He still had not gotten familiar enough with melee to feel very confidant wading into the fray. He was thinking of reminding Montaron what he had said about weapons training when he noticed the gruff halfling looking queerly at him. He had an idea why the larger halfling was looking at him that way.

"Well?" A long stare by Montaron.

"What?" Nicotino held his sword behind his back and grinned innocently.

"Yer sword."

"What about it?"

"I see ye hidin' it."

"Oh, that."

"Aye, that."

"So what about it?"

"Hand it over, kid. You don't be needin' it, and I do. Them brown-skinned yohos I stuck ain't got the right kind, so yer's it must be. Ye got three seconds to give it to me or ye go in the water like that hilt!" Montaron made a threatening gesture towards the pond. "One... Two ..."

Nicotino complied.

"Gutless as I thought ye were," guffawed Montaron. "Now, since ye have shown yerself to be useless fer a fight, what can ye do?" He paused for a second in thought. "Hmm... I got the perfect idea..."

A few minutes later, the tiny Nicotino was laboriously trudging down the Trade Way a few paces behind the striding Montaron. He was doubled over with the weight of two travel packs on his back.

Nicotino panted heavily. Montaron whistled cheerfully in between puffs on Nicotino's treasured pipe.

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"This be Beregost. A proper place fer a rest if ye has a spot of coin."

Nicotino barely had the energy to nod in reply.

The two were walking through the busy road, pushing their way through the teeming traffic - traders along the roadside, commoners milling about, hyper children running amok, and those who chose to louge on the curbs. Outside a large building, a woman in black was entertaining a small audience with a display of magic tricks and a song here and there. A few cheers erupted as she completed her latest performance.

"Give us another one, Silke!" one man shouted. A few others added their voices in agreement. The woman acceded to the requests and began once again. Nicotino stopped to watch, but Montaron was in no mood for revelry and pulled him away while snarling in his companion's ear.

"We have a job to do, kid. Ye got it? There be no time fer nonsense until it be complete. Let's step in here and get a belt before hittin' the road again."

He roughly pulled Nicotino away from the crowd and gave him a firm push up a nearby staircase and through a door. A sign right next to it read "Red Sheaf Inn".

Inside there were a number of patrons seated at the tables feasting upon steaming plates of food and imbibing no small amount of spirits. At the corner of the bar, a stumpy dwarf was just gulping down the remainder of his ale when he threw a glance at the newcomers. He had a surprised look on his face for a second before his mouth moved up in a slightly malevolent grin. A few quick strides brought him in front of the adventuring pair. He greeted them in a genial manner.

"Well now! Here I thought I would need to go lookin' for you, and you appear right before my very eyes! My name be Karlat. I was sent to find you two to give you a message."

Montaron grunted in reply. "Be that so? Then speak up, dwarf. We haven't time fer foolin' 'round."

Karlat's eyes traveled back and forth between Nicotino and Montaron, but finally settled on the latter. "Aye, then. I'll make it short for you. First, I need to be positive who you are. You are Nicotino, formerly of Candlekeep, and this must be your friend, Montaron." He stabbed a fat finger at Nicotino.

Nicotino looked taken aback. Montaron roared in fury.

"Ye drivelin' idiot! I be Montaron! That pack mule there be Nicotino."

The dwarf looked shocked, but quickly recovered. "I assumed that one with Nicotino's reputation would be the leader of the two. Guess I was wrong." Montaron snorted in disgust. Karlat continued, "We can further discuss business in a more private area. I am sure you will follow me, as it is about the mines. You do want to hear about the Nashkel mines, don't you? Then follow me."

Karlat led them to a storeroom in the back of the inn and closed the door behind them. "This is somewhat more secluded, so now we can proceed."

"You know something about the mines?" Nicotino piped up. "We haven't heard much about them."

"Shut yer trap, kid," Montaron spat. "I'll be doin' the talkin' here."

"Calm yourself, halfling. Your companion asked a question I'm willing to answer," Karlat said in a soft tone. He turned to the other halfling. "As for you question - indeed I do know something about the mines, or rather, your involvement with them. We can't have that. I also have here a notice." He drew out a piece of parchment and waved it in front of them. "It places a nice tidy sum upon your head, Master Nicotino."

At those last words, the three of them made grabs for their weapons. Karlat swung around his axe that was hanging by his side. Montaron quickly unsheathed his sword and brought it up to face his enemy. Nicotino grasped a handful of air where his short sword had once been.

"Old Karlat will add another name to the score!" He swirled his axe around then struck out at Montaron in a mighty blow.

"Curse ye, kid! Don't just stand there!" Montaron bellowed while parrying a forceful blow. He staggered in the process, falling back a few steps.

While the two combatants exchanged desperate blows, Nicotino scurried to the opposite end of the room to get a better shot on the hired killer. In his rush, his foot became entangle with some object and he fell sprawling on the floor boards. As he struggled to free himself, he realized that the object was a coil of rope. He instantly snatched it and flung it around the dwarf's legs. The rope caught and Nicotino gave it as hard a yank as he could. The burly opponent gave a grunt of astonishment as he felt his feet being pulled from underneath himself and crashed upon the floor. Montaron wasted no time following him down with a swift plunge of his short sword.

"Take that, ye bearded piece o' rotten liver!" Montaron screamed as he dealt the killing blow, causing Nicotino to cringe as he watched. Montaron faced his companion and spoke between deep breaths. "Ye did good, kid. I didn't expect ye to do anythin' but run! But enough o' that. We ain't stayin' in this place any longer than we have to."

Montaron paused and looked down on their fallen assailant, then at the axe on the ground. "Can ye use an axe, kid? No? Well yer goin' to learn." He grasped the axe and handed it to Nicotino. "Let's get movin', twerp. We can rest another day."

Nicotino gulped and followed once again, dragging the double-bladed axe along. They trudged out into the street and ,in their hurry, nearly bumped into the street performer. She turned to address them.

"Greetings, adventurers! My name is Silke!"

"Whadda we care?" Snarled the grumpy halfling. "Outta our way, girl!"

"Why, I --," her indignant voice trailed off as two halflings proceeded south down the road.