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Story Hour
Session Stories - Moments in Roleplaying (updated 6/15/2023)
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<blockquote data-quote="Nthal" data-source="post: 8404093" data-attributes="member: 6971069"><p style="text-align: center"><strong>Story XV- Meals and Inquisitions - 9/22/2021</strong></p><p></p><p>The barkeeper slid a mug down the counter, which Rafelor caught with his hand. His drink in hand, he took a swig of the strong dark liquor. As he did so, he detected the scent of someone who needs a bath nearby. The odor grew stronger, when suddenly a hand slapped Rafelor on the back, causing him to sputter out some of his drink. Turning he saw the resident ogre looking at him with a crooked smile, missing several teeth.</p><p></p><p>“Hello friend! You seem to be lonely! May I join you?” the ogre asked. Rafelor responded with only a loud gasp of air, as the wind had been completely knocked out of him. The Ogre sat down on the floor instead of on one of the stools, next to the counter and the half-elf. “You may have heard that I am called, ‘Little One.’ And what is your ...hey! you have a nice headband like mine! Where did you acquire it?"</p><p></p><p>Rafelor let out a final wheeze as he caught his breath, before responding, “This thing? This was a gift from a friend.”</p><p></p><p>“Is it? Such a nice friend to give something like that. Hello Irony!”</p><p></p><p>The young tiefling girl, Irony, came up to the bar with her long whip like tail firmly planted underneath her nose. “I need an order of stew! Hi Little One, I see you have a copy of...OH! Hi Raf!” the tiefling said excitedly.</p><p></p><p>“Anyway,” the ogre continued, “I was recently given a new book to read, to get my opinions on. It is fascinating! Tells of a long adventure, and there are these two people, a Moon elf, and the Half-elf author that seem to have an intense negative relationship—”</p><p></p><p>“—So Raf, I'm taking this upstairs...did you want to visit her? —” Irony asked ignoring Little One’s gushing.</p><p></p><p>“—and apparently the author must have a real problem with using baths, as their hated rival keeps cleaning them up...using Magic! The author seemed to detest being clean— ”</p><p></p><p>Rafelor gives Irony a pleading nod, and she turned to lean over the bar, “Make that two stews,” In a swift moment, one of the cooks assistants brought out a tray with two steaming bowls and handed it to the tiefling.</p><p></p><p>“—But the author is an inspired artist as well...the drawings in the book are so adorable—”</p><p></p><p>Rafelor finally interrupted the great Ogre, “—Hey, listen, that sounds great. Awesome, really. Uh, listen, I'm gonna go because I've got someone that needs my attention right now, so you just have fun there.” Rafelor stood up and then followed Irony, who headed toward the front exit of the inn.</p><p></p><p>“—I've only just got through the first chapter...oh alright.” Little One said, waving his hand, and his smile never faltering. “I'll talk to you more when you come back!”</p><p></p><p>As they approached the Emerald gate, Irony pulled her tail away from her nose and looked at Rafelor with a sly grin. “Thought you might want to eat with her.” she says with a sly smile. “Oh, and I forgot that Little One has access to some of the restricted stacks. The Great Readers just <strong><em>love</em></strong> to hear his opinions on new material. He brings such a different perspective after all.”</p><p></p><p>Rafelor let out a sigh of relief “I think you may have just saved my life. I almost coughed up my liver in that bitch slap.”</p><p></p><p>“He's just being friendly...and he's much better at it now. The first time he did that we needed to call for a healer to mend the broken bones.”</p><p></p><p>“Talk about killing someone with kindness...”</p><p></p><p>They passed through the Emerald Door, and the guards acknowledged the pair with simple nods, as Irony continued. “Well...ever since he found that...HEY! you have a headband almost like his. What a coincidence!”</p><p></p><p>Rafelor rubbed the back of his head. “Is it really that noticeable? I try to hide it underneath my hair, but I'm not having a whole lot of success lately.”</p><p></p><p>“It's cute. Don't hide it. Complements your eyes! But you really should look at a trim for that hair cut...its sooo 1480s,” and Irony began to skip on her hooves down the hall, somehow not spilling the stew as she went.</p><p></p><p>“Wh-Wha? Hey—" Rafelor was about to snap back at that shade towards his hair, but then stopped himself. “Oh, come on...” sighing he decided to cut his losses and stepped up his pace to catch the tiefling and the stew.</p><p></p><p>Irony led Rafelor through the complicated maze of bridges and stairs leading to the tower, where Rafelor’s charge was currently residing. Finally, after ascending the stairs, they came to the bound wooden door. Irony with her tail, pulled a key from her pouch and used it to rap on the door, alerting the occupant.</p><p></p><p>From inside the door a soft elvish voice responded, “Come in Irony!” Irony then balancing the tray on her shoulder, unlocked the door, and motioned with her tail for Rafelor to open it. Grabbing the handle, he pulled it open and let the pair inside.</p><p></p><p>He noticed that the room had been changed slightly since he was here yesterday. A table with two chairs had been added, although the table looked much like the desk covered in musty tomes. The mishappen elf was seated at the desk, and now struggled to stand up as she spoke, “We should put the meal on the table. I'll help you clean it...Rafelor!” She said sounding both surprised and relieved, as she noticed the half-elf entering the room.</p><p></p><p>“That's what they call me.”</p><p></p><p>The elf gave Rafelor a sour look “I guess the possibility you are a doppelganger coming to kill me is out; that response could only come from the real Rafelor.” With her only good arm, she started to move one tome at a time from the table to the desk, to clear some space.</p><p></p><p>“What brings you up to see me?” the elf asked as Irony set the tray down on a cleared spot, and too began to move more books as the elf continued to struggle moving a single large tome.</p><p></p><p>“Well, I didn't come to Candlekeep for a vacation. And at the very least, I had to make sure you were actually gonna eat this time.”</p><p></p><p>The elf sighed and nodded as Irony spoke again, “I'll be back in a bit, so I'll lock in here together for a bit!” she said with an impish smile. “Otherwise, ring the bell if you need me!” Irony then exited the room, and both could hear the key turn in the lock, sealing them inside.</p><p></p><p>The elf looked at Rafelor a moment, before saying, “Well...I guess...It would be nice to talk to someone rather than just asking for more books,” And with difficulty, she sat at the table.</p><p></p><p>“I still don't get the whole ordeal with that, but maybe that's a question for another time,” Rafelor said as he slid a chair over to the table and sat down.</p><p></p><p>The elven woman sighed and shrugged “No... it’s alright if you ask. I..uh...we know more now than we did when we arrived.” Her hand shook as she spooned some of the stew and starts to eat. “What did you want to know?”</p><p></p><p>“Well...” Rafelor trailed off as he thought a moment “Everything. I guess. Why don't you start with the beginning? What happened to you? What happened to Arnara? And what's with the sudden interest in necromancy?”</p><p></p><p>“Well...you remember that...coven,” she said with a bitter look in her eyes, “The Sewn Sisters...they took a piece of Arnara and created...me. But they did something using Necromancy to cause us to share a... soul. We thought was just some magical connection...but,” and she shook her head. “Our soul is...tied tightly to both of us. What the hags did, is ensure that I know everything that...Arnara does, feels, experiences, I also do. But not the reverse. Arnara is isolated from anything I think or feel."</p><p></p><p>He nodded “Right, I think I knew that much.”</p><p></p><p>She continued, “We wanted to find out about the ritual and use the knowledge to...change how we are to something…tolerable. But as you saw last night...when Arnara feels pain; I do. And if she dies...so will I.” The other Arnara swallowed and sat silently a moment, letting her words sink in as a look of horror cross Rafelor's normaly smug face.</p><p></p><p>“So... we now believe there are three options. The first...is ensure that...one of us dies, without the other also. We don't care for this idea at all. The second is that we somehow, combine us into one person. Arnara is alright with this, but I admit I'm...not as positive about it. The third is to separate us into two different people.” The elf furrowed her brow “That will not be easy; This is fell magic that was done, and it will be difficult to undo. The longer we...I exist separately, the harder it will be,” She then took the spoon and bit into the stew. “Does this make sense to you?”</p><p></p><p>“I think so...” Rafelor said trying to keep a clear head on what was being said.</p><p></p><p>She sighed, “It doesn't help that the hags decided to...twist me for their own amusement.” She looked at her useless hand bent along her forearm and her hips and her legs. “Putting me into this body, to fit <strong><em>their</em></strong> ideal of beauty. But, iIts more than that. I'm also unable to touch the Weave. I don't know if you know this, but Arnara always was able to keep things clean, and do simple tricks from a very early time. That is denied to me as well. I know every piece of arcana that Arnara knows, and I can't cast the most basic spell.” She looked at Rafelor with envy “You are a greater wizard now, that I can ever be...unless something changes.”</p><p></p><p>Rafelor looked at her in stunned silence. He had no idea that the coven’s work had been more than a twisted body. That their meddling went deeper into what made ‘Arnara’ who she was, and that this echo of hers was destined to be nothing like the original.</p><p></p><p>“Are you...curious about anything else?” the elf asked in between bites.</p><p></p><p>“Guess the stakes were higher than I thought,” Rafelor responded. “Not that they weren't already high in the first place. As for which of those options is best. I...I don't know.”</p><p></p><p>The ‘Other’ Arnara put down her spoon and looked at the half-elf. “Who...who am I to you Rafelor?”</p><p></p><p>“...Huh?”</p><p></p><p>“You have spent a little time with me. Who am I?”</p><p></p><p>“...geez.” Rafelor let out a sigh. “I think I'm trying to figure that out too. Back in the tomb, I didn't think much of anything about you. I had a real, living Arnara right there in front of me, and that's what I knew she was. You were just some twisted illusion created by the Sewn Sisters. But now, it's not so simple. It's clear you're a lot more than that. And that...bothers me. At first, I didn't understand why Arnara felt so sentimental towards you. I thought it'd be a lot easier to toss yourself aside when you know what you are better than anyone else. But she didn't. She treated you like she did anyone else there. Maybe with even more care.” Rafelor looked away for a moment before meeting the elf’s intense gaze again.</p><p></p><p>“That's all before I knew what would happen if one of you died...” Rafelor looked away again uncomfortably. “If it had been me the Sewn Sisters copied, and I hadn't been so careful...I don't think there'd be much of a happy ending in that timeline.”</p><p></p><p>The elf nodded, “Arnara...feels...a lot of guilt. Both that she going to Chult allowed this to happen, and that she...didn't demand a solution from the hags. She was so…consumed with ending the threat of the Soulmonger, that even I was a secondary consideration. And I don’t think I…” she shook her head for a moment, “She was wrong with that thinking.” The woman sighed and shook her head, “But, she's...so...hard on herself. So hard, I...I... don’t want to be her. I want to be someone else...anyone else. But I suppose the apple doesn't fall from the tree now does it?”</p><p></p><p>Rafelor shrugged, “I know, I hate it too. I wish I could do something about it, but it's been an uphill battle trying to alleviate that pressure.”</p><p></p><p>The other Arnara took a bite of some more stew and then spoke again, “The good news is...she found what she wanted in Thay. From what she has read, we know that...something can be done. I just need to find a place now. And she has to finish her obligations in Thay of course."</p><p></p><p>Rafelor raises a brow. “Something? What exactly is 'something'? A moment ago, we had a lot of options on the table.”</p><p></p><p>“Deep in the Doomvault, she found something foul.” The clone said. “A ‘Tome of the Stilled Tongue’ a grotesque grimoire. In it, she found a complete copy of the ritual, and even saw it being cast...right in front of her,"</p><p></p><p>“The ritual? As in, Kylan's super-duper spell?”</p><p></p><p>She shook her head “No...the one the hags used. The one that split our soul incompletely.”</p><p></p><p>“Oh right, sorry. All this crazy magic is sliding past my head. I may be a 'greater wizard' as you say, but that's not saying a whole lot.”</p><p></p><p>Taking another bite of the stew she continued, “Arnara believes that with a high magic spell, <em>Akh'Faen'Tel'Quess</em> and with another person to...use and modify that ritual in a place strong with either white or black necromancy...we can break or alter the spell the hags used.”</p><p></p><p>"But the truth of it is, there is only one outcome I want now. I want to live,” She looked at Rafelor with tears, "I want to discover the world on my terms. I want to discover who I am. I want...Arnara not to worry about me. And yet...here I sit, barely able to do ...more than read.” She said gesturing at the books piled on the desk. She took another bite of stew. “This is actually quite good...you should eat some, while its still hot.”</p><p></p><p>Rafelor takes a spoonful of stew, “Oh naughty word...that's nice.” he quietly mumbled to himself. “Well, it's been one hell of a tenday or two. But if you wanna live, you got plenty of time to do that once we figure all this magic naughty word out.” Rafelor continued to eat, when he heard the sound of metal on stone. He looked down and saw that the elf’s spoon lay on the ground. He then looked up and his face grew pale.</p><p></p><p>The elf was leaning back in her chair, as her one good hand pulled desperately on her collar, while the other, thrashed wildly. Her breathing was suddenly rapid and ragged as if all the air in the room was not enough to sustain her. Her face began to turn red as she struggled to stay seated.</p><p></p><p>“Wait...oh naughty word...OH naughty word!” and Rafelor knocked over his chair and leapt to her aid too late, as she fell to the ground, heaving and vomiting up her dinner, as she fought for breath. “Oh no..no no no NO!” Rafelor first tore open her shirt, trying to alleviate any constriction around the neck. Seeing no change, then he attempted to pin her arms, so she didn’t hurt them during her thrashing.</p><p></p><p>The Other Arnara was covered in bile and bits of her own food, but she was now dry heaving, having nothing left inside her. She lay on the floor and gulped down more air as she convulsed. All Rafelor could do was hold her still so she didn’t injury herself. Finally with difficulty she uttered a word that Rafelor would have never expected to cross her lips.</p><p></p><p>“ Yu--Yu--Yurtrus.”</p><p></p><p>“Yurtrus?” Rafelor said concerned. “What's going on? Orcs? Gods? Oh god is Old Yarrack back again!?”</p><p></p><p>The Other Arnara shook her head and wiped her hand across her mouth and chin. “The...the Red Wizards...imprisoned Chosen of the gods...this one was...a chosen of the orc god of disease and rot." The elf rubbed the front of her neck as she continued. "Arnara was choking in the poison...she couldn't breathe. Couldn't even move out of the poison.”</p><p></p><p>Rafelor quickly picked up the stricken elf and laid her on the bed. She lay there exhausted, saying nothing. Once satisfied she wasn’t going to relapse, he moved over to the fallen bowl of half-eaten and half-digested stew and started to use the first spell that Arnara had taught him. And slowly began to clean away the mess.</p><p></p><p>There was a soft chuckle from the bed, causing Rafelor to look up. The elf was looking at Rafelor cleaning, when she finally said, “I...I... don’t know if Arnara really understood how you felt when she cleaned you. But I do...” and she struggled to sit upright on the bed. Succeeding, she then stood, and limped her way back to the table, talking to herself. “Oh...oh good...she's staying in the back now. She's hurt, but that elemental will help.”</p><p></p><p>“Are-are you okay?”</p><p></p><p>“I'm fine; I'm not poisoned...but she was. But I felt it all...I can't <strong><em>not</em></strong> feel it. She should be fine in the back now...she's letting the others open the doo—” Suddenly, she became rigid, and she fell backwards, her limbs locked in place, hitting the floor with a dull thump. Rafelor ran over to her and was shocked to see that her skin was almost a pale ice blue. He reached out to touch her, and found she was as cold as a winter’s morning.</p><p></p><p>“NO! Damn it, Arnara! Be careful!” Rafelor started to rub her limbs to try to get some warmth into her. But her limbs refused to relax, and she lay on the floor looking like a toppled statue, her eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling. Rafelor continued to try to warm her up, when his hand passed over her chest, and he stopped short.</p><p></p><p>Her heart was no longer beating.</p><p></p><p>“No....NO! naughty word!” Rafelor slapped her face, trying to wake her, trying to get a response of any kind. He was about to get up and ring the bell, when suddenly Other Arnara took a deep breath. As Rafelor watched, the color returned to her skin, and her limbs became slack, as she lay there gasping for air again.</p><p></p><p>She reached out with a hand and found Rafelor’s jerkin, and shivering, she pulled him close as she said, with her teeth chattering. “C C C one of...so....c c c old. Oh, that hurt.” She said wincing.</p><p></p><p>“Wait...” Rafelor is taken aback “...What?” Rafelor heart finally started to slow from its relentless pounding. As his heart’s pace slowed, he looked at the disheveled elf and asked, “What in the world...your heart stopped.”</p><p></p><p>“A...R r red Wiz z zard...sur...sur...surprised...C C Couldn't c c counter...Zzzzinetra saved her,” she said quietly. Turning her head, she met Rafelor’s gaze and pleaded. “She's d d done now...has to r r rest. But I n n need your r r h h help. T t t ake...take me to the b b bbath house, and h h help me..."</p><p></p><p>“Uh...yeah...alright.” Rafelor said, and then he started to combine two aspects of the spell Arnara taught him, one part to remove the soil from her, the second to warm her clothes and chase away the chill, But suddenly she grabbed his hands, and stopped him from making the incantation.</p><p></p><p>“N n n no...I w w want w w warm w w w water...hot water. N n n ot magic."</p><p></p><p>"No. It's alright. We'll get you your water. This'll help in the meantime."</p><p></p><p>The elf released his hand, and he started the incantation again, and as he did so she whispered to him, “Just....hold me...help me survive this...”</p><p></p><p>She lay there on his lap, and Rafelor was now for the second time in two days, unsure on what to do or what to say. He wasn’t familiar with magical injuries like she was encountering, and he wasn’t even sure if the symptoms were real or imagined. The only thing he could think of doing was do what she asked, hoping that at the very least, giving her some comfort would give her the willpower to fight against what ailed her.</p><p></p><p>Finally, her breathing slowed to normal, and the shivering had abated when she spoke again. “She's...heading back their camp...she'll probably do a Reverie before Zinetra. But she's done fighting…for now." The elf then lay back on Rafelor’s lap and whispered aloud, “Her reveries are intense, but they don't hurt at least. Or is that because I'm observing them, and not really in control?”</p><p></p><p>“Don't think I understand them much. Probably never will.”</p><p></p><p>“They are like a dream...but while what images arise aren't in your control, you can guess what will come. And once there you can examine them, relive them, all with the barest thought. Dreams are chaotic, wild...I found the one I had frightening, not because of what I dreamed, but that I had no say on where it went.”</p><p></p><p>“You've mentioned that before.”</p><p></p><p>The Other Arnara nodded, “I wanted to understand...what they were like. My friend never dreamed; she had nightmares. I didn't understand it...still don't as far as her terror is concerned, I really hoped Shalai could have helped there. Anyway...now is good time to get me to the bathhouse; Arnara is going to ask something of Zinetra...but I'm not certain what. It’s important though, and I think I should be awake for that."</p><p></p><p>Rafelor nodded and asked, “Can you walk on your own?”</p><p></p><p>“With difficulty. But getting in and out of tub and using the pitchers is another matter. The hags made a mess with my hips and it makes it difficult to climb stairs. Glad I have Irony looking for the books in stacks for me; I couldn't do it.” She looked at her splayed form and the mess that still covered her. Finally, she sighed and said glumly, “I... really will need help there. And... I trust you.” Tilting her head backwards she looked at Rafelor face and gave him a wry smile “It’s quite the role reversal I suppose.”</p><p></p><p>“Heh. Maybe.” Rafelor said returning the grin.</p><p></p><p>“Help me stand please,” Rafelor gently sat the woman up, and then he stood and assisted the elf. As he did so, she continued to talk. “I guess it might be alright to think of the future...I guess I'll need a name of my own after all.”</p><p></p><p>“Was about to ask you that right before that scare just now. You've got plenty of options on how you want to live your life once this all wraps up. Might as well start with a name of your own. Anything you want. Except Rafelor; that's already taken.”</p><p></p><p>“I'm thinking that I won’t take a boy's name,” she said smiling. “I can't use my...our birthname...I guess I will need to come up with...something else.</p><p></p><p>“Just think of something that feels right to you. Whatever you feel like would suit who you are. Or, if that’s too hard, maybe think about if you had a child, what would you name it? That might be another place to start.”</p><p></p><p>The Other Arnara chuckled, “An elven adult chooses their name; the names we give children are…different. But we haven’t even quite decided who is going to be Arnara…or if both of us will change our names. The only thing we did decide is if only one of us survived, the other person would become Arnara.” She looked at Rafelor and saw the confusion on his face. “Names are a tricky subject for elves, even deciding on Arnara originally took a year. And I don't even know what I will even look like after this is all done. I don't even know if I will feel different, beyond the lack of physical pain from this body. But you'll be there when...this happens…right?”</p><p></p><p>"Really?” Rafelor said surprised. “You think I'm gonna miss out on some crazy spell that's only used a couple bajillion years? Like the hells I'm sleeping on that.”</p><p></p><p>“I am glad to hear that. Well, I guess we need Irony to let us out.” The elf then reached out to the nearby bell on the desk, without looking. But Rafelor was surprised at what he saw next.</p><p></p><p>The bell slid over the desk and floated into the Other Arnara's hand. Normally the anchor tattoo would twinge a bit after the Weave was affected by magic, but as far as Rafelor could tell there was no spell cast. The Weave had remained untouched. Rafelor glanced at her face as she rang the bell, and he wasn’t even sure if she had realized what had happened.</p><p></p><p>Rafelor raised a brow “Well, that's interesting.” He quietly said to himself.</p><p></p><p>“What is?” she asked puzzled.</p><p></p><p>“...Nothing, Sorry, just thinking out loud.” Rafelor said shaking his head, wondering what he exactly saw.</p><p></p><p><strong>Notes:</strong></p><p>So...Arnara had the worst luck on saving throws in the Doomvault, and the encounter with the Cone of Cold was only the second time that she ever needed to make a death saving throw. But progress was being made! </p><p></p><p>But before that, the idea that Rafelor's precisous journal is being judged by an ogre who completely misses the fact the author is next to time is just precious. I really do like the personae of Candlekeep; there is a bit to work with even though there are very minimal descriptions.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Nthal, post: 8404093, member: 6971069"] [CENTER][B]Story XV- Meals and Inquisitions - 9/22/2021[/B][/CENTER] [B][/B] The barkeeper slid a mug down the counter, which Rafelor caught with his hand. His drink in hand, he took a swig of the strong dark liquor. As he did so, he detected the scent of someone who needs a bath nearby. The odor grew stronger, when suddenly a hand slapped Rafelor on the back, causing him to sputter out some of his drink. Turning he saw the resident ogre looking at him with a crooked smile, missing several teeth. “Hello friend! You seem to be lonely! May I join you?” the ogre asked. Rafelor responded with only a loud gasp of air, as the wind had been completely knocked out of him. The Ogre sat down on the floor instead of on one of the stools, next to the counter and the half-elf. “You may have heard that I am called, ‘Little One.’ And what is your ...hey! you have a nice headband like mine! Where did you acquire it?" Rafelor let out a final wheeze as he caught his breath, before responding, “This thing? This was a gift from a friend.” “Is it? Such a nice friend to give something like that. Hello Irony!” The young tiefling girl, Irony, came up to the bar with her long whip like tail firmly planted underneath her nose. “I need an order of stew! Hi Little One, I see you have a copy of...OH! Hi Raf!” the tiefling said excitedly. “Anyway,” the ogre continued, “I was recently given a new book to read, to get my opinions on. It is fascinating! Tells of a long adventure, and there are these two people, a Moon elf, and the Half-elf author that seem to have an intense negative relationship—” “—So Raf, I'm taking this upstairs...did you want to visit her? —” Irony asked ignoring Little One’s gushing. “—and apparently the author must have a real problem with using baths, as their hated rival keeps cleaning them up...using Magic! The author seemed to detest being clean— ” Rafelor gives Irony a pleading nod, and she turned to lean over the bar, “Make that two stews,” In a swift moment, one of the cooks assistants brought out a tray with two steaming bowls and handed it to the tiefling. “—But the author is an inspired artist as well...the drawings in the book are so adorable—” Rafelor finally interrupted the great Ogre, “—Hey, listen, that sounds great. Awesome, really. Uh, listen, I'm gonna go because I've got someone that needs my attention right now, so you just have fun there.” Rafelor stood up and then followed Irony, who headed toward the front exit of the inn. “—I've only just got through the first chapter...oh alright.” Little One said, waving his hand, and his smile never faltering. “I'll talk to you more when you come back!” As they approached the Emerald gate, Irony pulled her tail away from her nose and looked at Rafelor with a sly grin. “Thought you might want to eat with her.” she says with a sly smile. “Oh, and I forgot that Little One has access to some of the restricted stacks. The Great Readers just [B][I]love[/I][/B] to hear his opinions on new material. He brings such a different perspective after all.” Rafelor let out a sigh of relief “I think you may have just saved my life. I almost coughed up my liver in that bitch slap.” “He's just being friendly...and he's much better at it now. The first time he did that we needed to call for a healer to mend the broken bones.” “Talk about killing someone with kindness...” They passed through the Emerald Door, and the guards acknowledged the pair with simple nods, as Irony continued. “Well...ever since he found that...HEY! you have a headband almost like his. What a coincidence!” Rafelor rubbed the back of his head. “Is it really that noticeable? I try to hide it underneath my hair, but I'm not having a whole lot of success lately.” “It's cute. Don't hide it. Complements your eyes! But you really should look at a trim for that hair cut...its sooo 1480s,” and Irony began to skip on her hooves down the hall, somehow not spilling the stew as she went. “Wh-Wha? Hey—" Rafelor was about to snap back at that shade towards his hair, but then stopped himself. “Oh, come on...” sighing he decided to cut his losses and stepped up his pace to catch the tiefling and the stew. Irony led Rafelor through the complicated maze of bridges and stairs leading to the tower, where Rafelor’s charge was currently residing. Finally, after ascending the stairs, they came to the bound wooden door. Irony with her tail, pulled a key from her pouch and used it to rap on the door, alerting the occupant. From inside the door a soft elvish voice responded, “Come in Irony!” Irony then balancing the tray on her shoulder, unlocked the door, and motioned with her tail for Rafelor to open it. Grabbing the handle, he pulled it open and let the pair inside. He noticed that the room had been changed slightly since he was here yesterday. A table with two chairs had been added, although the table looked much like the desk covered in musty tomes. The mishappen elf was seated at the desk, and now struggled to stand up as she spoke, “We should put the meal on the table. I'll help you clean it...Rafelor!” She said sounding both surprised and relieved, as she noticed the half-elf entering the room. “That's what they call me.” The elf gave Rafelor a sour look “I guess the possibility you are a doppelganger coming to kill me is out; that response could only come from the real Rafelor.” With her only good arm, she started to move one tome at a time from the table to the desk, to clear some space. “What brings you up to see me?” the elf asked as Irony set the tray down on a cleared spot, and too began to move more books as the elf continued to struggle moving a single large tome. “Well, I didn't come to Candlekeep for a vacation. And at the very least, I had to make sure you were actually gonna eat this time.” The elf sighed and nodded as Irony spoke again, “I'll be back in a bit, so I'll lock in here together for a bit!” she said with an impish smile. “Otherwise, ring the bell if you need me!” Irony then exited the room, and both could hear the key turn in the lock, sealing them inside. The elf looked at Rafelor a moment, before saying, “Well...I guess...It would be nice to talk to someone rather than just asking for more books,” And with difficulty, she sat at the table. “I still don't get the whole ordeal with that, but maybe that's a question for another time,” Rafelor said as he slid a chair over to the table and sat down. The elven woman sighed and shrugged “No... it’s alright if you ask. I..uh...we know more now than we did when we arrived.” Her hand shook as she spooned some of the stew and starts to eat. “What did you want to know?” “Well...” Rafelor trailed off as he thought a moment “Everything. I guess. Why don't you start with the beginning? What happened to you? What happened to Arnara? And what's with the sudden interest in necromancy?” “Well...you remember that...coven,” she said with a bitter look in her eyes, “The Sewn Sisters...they took a piece of Arnara and created...me. But they did something using Necromancy to cause us to share a... soul. We thought was just some magical connection...but,” and she shook her head. “Our soul is...tied tightly to both of us. What the hags did, is ensure that I know everything that...Arnara does, feels, experiences, I also do. But not the reverse. Arnara is isolated from anything I think or feel." He nodded “Right, I think I knew that much.” She continued, “We wanted to find out about the ritual and use the knowledge to...change how we are to something…tolerable. But as you saw last night...when Arnara feels pain; I do. And if she dies...so will I.” The other Arnara swallowed and sat silently a moment, letting her words sink in as a look of horror cross Rafelor's normaly smug face. “So... we now believe there are three options. The first...is ensure that...one of us dies, without the other also. We don't care for this idea at all. The second is that we somehow, combine us into one person. Arnara is alright with this, but I admit I'm...not as positive about it. The third is to separate us into two different people.” The elf furrowed her brow “That will not be easy; This is fell magic that was done, and it will be difficult to undo. The longer we...I exist separately, the harder it will be,” She then took the spoon and bit into the stew. “Does this make sense to you?” “I think so...” Rafelor said trying to keep a clear head on what was being said. She sighed, “It doesn't help that the hags decided to...twist me for their own amusement.” She looked at her useless hand bent along her forearm and her hips and her legs. “Putting me into this body, to fit [B][I]their[/I][/B] ideal of beauty. But, iIts more than that. I'm also unable to touch the Weave. I don't know if you know this, but Arnara always was able to keep things clean, and do simple tricks from a very early time. That is denied to me as well. I know every piece of arcana that Arnara knows, and I can't cast the most basic spell.” She looked at Rafelor with envy “You are a greater wizard now, that I can ever be...unless something changes.” Rafelor looked at her in stunned silence. He had no idea that the coven’s work had been more than a twisted body. That their meddling went deeper into what made ‘Arnara’ who she was, and that this echo of hers was destined to be nothing like the original. “Are you...curious about anything else?” the elf asked in between bites. “Guess the stakes were higher than I thought,” Rafelor responded. “Not that they weren't already high in the first place. As for which of those options is best. I...I don't know.” The ‘Other’ Arnara put down her spoon and looked at the half-elf. “Who...who am I to you Rafelor?” “...Huh?” “You have spent a little time with me. Who am I?” “...geez.” Rafelor let out a sigh. “I think I'm trying to figure that out too. Back in the tomb, I didn't think much of anything about you. I had a real, living Arnara right there in front of me, and that's what I knew she was. You were just some twisted illusion created by the Sewn Sisters. But now, it's not so simple. It's clear you're a lot more than that. And that...bothers me. At first, I didn't understand why Arnara felt so sentimental towards you. I thought it'd be a lot easier to toss yourself aside when you know what you are better than anyone else. But she didn't. She treated you like she did anyone else there. Maybe with even more care.” Rafelor looked away for a moment before meeting the elf’s intense gaze again. “That's all before I knew what would happen if one of you died...” Rafelor looked away again uncomfortably. “If it had been me the Sewn Sisters copied, and I hadn't been so careful...I don't think there'd be much of a happy ending in that timeline.” The elf nodded, “Arnara...feels...a lot of guilt. Both that she going to Chult allowed this to happen, and that she...didn't demand a solution from the hags. She was so…consumed with ending the threat of the Soulmonger, that even I was a secondary consideration. And I don’t think I…” she shook her head for a moment, “She was wrong with that thinking.” The woman sighed and shook her head, “But, she's...so...hard on herself. So hard, I...I... don’t want to be her. I want to be someone else...anyone else. But I suppose the apple doesn't fall from the tree now does it?” Rafelor shrugged, “I know, I hate it too. I wish I could do something about it, but it's been an uphill battle trying to alleviate that pressure.” The other Arnara took a bite of some more stew and then spoke again, “The good news is...she found what she wanted in Thay. From what she has read, we know that...something can be done. I just need to find a place now. And she has to finish her obligations in Thay of course." Rafelor raises a brow. “Something? What exactly is 'something'? A moment ago, we had a lot of options on the table.” “Deep in the Doomvault, she found something foul.” The clone said. “A ‘Tome of the Stilled Tongue’ a grotesque grimoire. In it, she found a complete copy of the ritual, and even saw it being cast...right in front of her," “The ritual? As in, Kylan's super-duper spell?” She shook her head “No...the one the hags used. The one that split our soul incompletely.” “Oh right, sorry. All this crazy magic is sliding past my head. I may be a 'greater wizard' as you say, but that's not saying a whole lot.” Taking another bite of the stew she continued, “Arnara believes that with a high magic spell, [I]Akh'Faen'Tel'Quess[/I] and with another person to...use and modify that ritual in a place strong with either white or black necromancy...we can break or alter the spell the hags used.” "But the truth of it is, there is only one outcome I want now. I want to live,” She looked at Rafelor with tears, "I want to discover the world on my terms. I want to discover who I am. I want...Arnara not to worry about me. And yet...here I sit, barely able to do ...more than read.” She said gesturing at the books piled on the desk. She took another bite of stew. “This is actually quite good...you should eat some, while its still hot.” Rafelor takes a spoonful of stew, “Oh naughty word...that's nice.” he quietly mumbled to himself. “Well, it's been one hell of a tenday or two. But if you wanna live, you got plenty of time to do that once we figure all this magic naughty word out.” Rafelor continued to eat, when he heard the sound of metal on stone. He looked down and saw that the elf’s spoon lay on the ground. He then looked up and his face grew pale. The elf was leaning back in her chair, as her one good hand pulled desperately on her collar, while the other, thrashed wildly. Her breathing was suddenly rapid and ragged as if all the air in the room was not enough to sustain her. Her face began to turn red as she struggled to stay seated. “Wait...oh naughty word...OH naughty word!” and Rafelor knocked over his chair and leapt to her aid too late, as she fell to the ground, heaving and vomiting up her dinner, as she fought for breath. “Oh no..no no no NO!” Rafelor first tore open her shirt, trying to alleviate any constriction around the neck. Seeing no change, then he attempted to pin her arms, so she didn’t hurt them during her thrashing. The Other Arnara was covered in bile and bits of her own food, but she was now dry heaving, having nothing left inside her. She lay on the floor and gulped down more air as she convulsed. All Rafelor could do was hold her still so she didn’t injury herself. Finally with difficulty she uttered a word that Rafelor would have never expected to cross her lips. “ Yu--Yu--Yurtrus.” “Yurtrus?” Rafelor said concerned. “What's going on? Orcs? Gods? Oh god is Old Yarrack back again!?” The Other Arnara shook her head and wiped her hand across her mouth and chin. “The...the Red Wizards...imprisoned Chosen of the gods...this one was...a chosen of the orc god of disease and rot." The elf rubbed the front of her neck as she continued. "Arnara was choking in the poison...she couldn't breathe. Couldn't even move out of the poison.” Rafelor quickly picked up the stricken elf and laid her on the bed. She lay there exhausted, saying nothing. Once satisfied she wasn’t going to relapse, he moved over to the fallen bowl of half-eaten and half-digested stew and started to use the first spell that Arnara had taught him. And slowly began to clean away the mess. There was a soft chuckle from the bed, causing Rafelor to look up. The elf was looking at Rafelor cleaning, when she finally said, “I...I... don’t know if Arnara really understood how you felt when she cleaned you. But I do...” and she struggled to sit upright on the bed. Succeeding, she then stood, and limped her way back to the table, talking to herself. “Oh...oh good...she's staying in the back now. She's hurt, but that elemental will help.” “Are-are you okay?” “I'm fine; I'm not poisoned...but she was. But I felt it all...I can't [B][I]not[/I][/B] feel it. She should be fine in the back now...she's letting the others open the doo—” Suddenly, she became rigid, and she fell backwards, her limbs locked in place, hitting the floor with a dull thump. Rafelor ran over to her and was shocked to see that her skin was almost a pale ice blue. He reached out to touch her, and found she was as cold as a winter’s morning. “NO! Damn it, Arnara! Be careful!” Rafelor started to rub her limbs to try to get some warmth into her. But her limbs refused to relax, and she lay on the floor looking like a toppled statue, her eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling. Rafelor continued to try to warm her up, when his hand passed over her chest, and he stopped short. Her heart was no longer beating. “No....NO! naughty word!” Rafelor slapped her face, trying to wake her, trying to get a response of any kind. He was about to get up and ring the bell, when suddenly Other Arnara took a deep breath. As Rafelor watched, the color returned to her skin, and her limbs became slack, as she lay there gasping for air again. She reached out with a hand and found Rafelor’s jerkin, and shivering, she pulled him close as she said, with her teeth chattering. “C C C one of...so....c c c old. Oh, that hurt.” She said wincing. “Wait...” Rafelor is taken aback “...What?” Rafelor heart finally started to slow from its relentless pounding. As his heart’s pace slowed, he looked at the disheveled elf and asked, “What in the world...your heart stopped.” “A...R r red Wiz z zard...sur...sur...surprised...C C Couldn't c c counter...Zzzzinetra saved her,” she said quietly. Turning her head, she met Rafelor’s gaze and pleaded. “She's d d done now...has to r r rest. But I n n need your r r h h help. T t t ake...take me to the b b bbath house, and h h help me..." “Uh...yeah...alright.” Rafelor said, and then he started to combine two aspects of the spell Arnara taught him, one part to remove the soil from her, the second to warm her clothes and chase away the chill, But suddenly she grabbed his hands, and stopped him from making the incantation. “N n n no...I w w want w w warm w w w water...hot water. N n n ot magic." "No. It's alright. We'll get you your water. This'll help in the meantime." The elf released his hand, and he started the incantation again, and as he did so she whispered to him, “Just....hold me...help me survive this...” She lay there on his lap, and Rafelor was now for the second time in two days, unsure on what to do or what to say. He wasn’t familiar with magical injuries like she was encountering, and he wasn’t even sure if the symptoms were real or imagined. The only thing he could think of doing was do what she asked, hoping that at the very least, giving her some comfort would give her the willpower to fight against what ailed her. Finally, her breathing slowed to normal, and the shivering had abated when she spoke again. “She's...heading back their camp...she'll probably do a Reverie before Zinetra. But she's done fighting…for now." The elf then lay back on Rafelor’s lap and whispered aloud, “Her reveries are intense, but they don't hurt at least. Or is that because I'm observing them, and not really in control?” “Don't think I understand them much. Probably never will.” “They are like a dream...but while what images arise aren't in your control, you can guess what will come. And once there you can examine them, relive them, all with the barest thought. Dreams are chaotic, wild...I found the one I had frightening, not because of what I dreamed, but that I had no say on where it went.” “You've mentioned that before.” The Other Arnara nodded, “I wanted to understand...what they were like. My friend never dreamed; she had nightmares. I didn't understand it...still don't as far as her terror is concerned, I really hoped Shalai could have helped there. Anyway...now is good time to get me to the bathhouse; Arnara is going to ask something of Zinetra...but I'm not certain what. It’s important though, and I think I should be awake for that." Rafelor nodded and asked, “Can you walk on your own?” “With difficulty. But getting in and out of tub and using the pitchers is another matter. The hags made a mess with my hips and it makes it difficult to climb stairs. Glad I have Irony looking for the books in stacks for me; I couldn't do it.” She looked at her splayed form and the mess that still covered her. Finally, she sighed and said glumly, “I... really will need help there. And... I trust you.” Tilting her head backwards she looked at Rafelor face and gave him a wry smile “It’s quite the role reversal I suppose.” “Heh. Maybe.” Rafelor said returning the grin. “Help me stand please,” Rafelor gently sat the woman up, and then he stood and assisted the elf. As he did so, she continued to talk. “I guess it might be alright to think of the future...I guess I'll need a name of my own after all.” “Was about to ask you that right before that scare just now. You've got plenty of options on how you want to live your life once this all wraps up. Might as well start with a name of your own. Anything you want. Except Rafelor; that's already taken.” “I'm thinking that I won’t take a boy's name,” she said smiling. “I can't use my...our birthname...I guess I will need to come up with...something else. “Just think of something that feels right to you. Whatever you feel like would suit who you are. Or, if that’s too hard, maybe think about if you had a child, what would you name it? That might be another place to start.” The Other Arnara chuckled, “An elven adult chooses their name; the names we give children are…different. But we haven’t even quite decided who is going to be Arnara…or if both of us will change our names. The only thing we did decide is if only one of us survived, the other person would become Arnara.” She looked at Rafelor and saw the confusion on his face. “Names are a tricky subject for elves, even deciding on Arnara originally took a year. And I don't even know what I will even look like after this is all done. I don't even know if I will feel different, beyond the lack of physical pain from this body. But you'll be there when...this happens…right?” "Really?” Rafelor said surprised. “You think I'm gonna miss out on some crazy spell that's only used a couple bajillion years? Like the hells I'm sleeping on that.” “I am glad to hear that. Well, I guess we need Irony to let us out.” The elf then reached out to the nearby bell on the desk, without looking. But Rafelor was surprised at what he saw next. The bell slid over the desk and floated into the Other Arnara's hand. Normally the anchor tattoo would twinge a bit after the Weave was affected by magic, but as far as Rafelor could tell there was no spell cast. The Weave had remained untouched. Rafelor glanced at her face as she rang the bell, and he wasn’t even sure if she had realized what had happened. Rafelor raised a brow “Well, that's interesting.” He quietly said to himself. “What is?” she asked puzzled. “...Nothing, Sorry, just thinking out loud.” Rafelor said shaking his head, wondering what he exactly saw. [B]Notes:[/B] So...Arnara had the worst luck on saving throws in the Doomvault, and the encounter with the Cone of Cold was only the second time that she ever needed to make a death saving throw. But progress was being made! But before that, the idea that Rafelor's precisous journal is being judged by an ogre who completely misses the fact the author is next to time is just precious. I really do like the personae of Candlekeep; there is a bit to work with even though there are very minimal descriptions. [/QUOTE]
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