Langston Trons 64: Directors Cut

[Jim Power]

AND SO IT WAS! The mighty Langston Trons saved the world! Or at least Baldur's Gate in a sort of semi-direct fashion while engaging in warfare against the Terrible and Horrible AMISH! ((boo, hiss!))

All was well and he was declared HERO OF BALDUR'S GATE!
Among a few others who were also dubbed heroes...

With this title in mind he triumphantly returned to his home in Baldur's Gate with a strident attitude and positiveness that remained for quite awhile.

OR DID HE?

Well, actually he did.

Being the sort to seek comfort over travel in most cases he figured he lounge about his now much more peaceful homestead. Though, of course as always he tends to find a reason to go about and cause all sorts of nonsensical trouble for himself and others. Whether it be from the beckoning of an errant fire place, or the shallow voices in his mind, he always always finds a way to persevere onward into deeper madness.

[Jim Power]

Dear Diary,

It has been much too long since I've written anything of note. Perpetual fear and the influence of the outside world prevented me. They would not read my words I would think, they would think me mad!

Of course, they would NEVER think to read my diary. They WOULD ALWAYS respect my privacy.

Journals are much too vague and banal, like a form ledger.

I AM NOT SOMETHING TO BE BOUGHT AND SOLD! I write angrily.

Though guess what Diary? I have seen the others, they are scattered here and there. Running as if they were missing their heads, I would wish to offer enlightenment, there is strength in numbers and there are many who would oppose our power.

If only I could get their attention, such a feat is as if to herd gibberlings.

*the writing suddenly stops, continuing somewhat later*

It seems the very world itself has become cloistered with fear, all the gates of man are closed to me. It seems they run in fear, my monstrous visage draws their suspicions and ire. But they are foolish! It is I who reject them as I am no longer merely human.

But to reject me! ME! Of all the nerve. Most assuredly this will not stand! Their ignorance befuddles me so.

*the writing once again ceases, only to pick up later*

I dance the dance of doom and destruction for seemingly days on end. Through this rampage I've discovered a delight that courses through my very soul. Temptation of spontaneous destruction and mischief. I will seek to inspire all sorts of fear and dread into the weak will of mankind.

*Seems to skip a couple pages, as if to symbolically write nothing happened for a while*

Cursed be these hard hearted individuals. They form an angry chorus of suspicion and dangerous conspiracy that seeks to destroy me. They have no feeling, I attempted to share mine, they threw it upon the earth like spoiled children. Wastrels, villains, evil. Barely enough to describe these ones. They are simply beyond evil, THEY are the monstrous ones, not I!

They would be well to be made in suffering. INJUSTICE! I would cry. However, they seem to know of Thedran. Such knowledge buffering from my own malice upon them. There must be something to be done, if all else I will sit upon these thoughts.

*the writing ceases*

[Jim Power]

Dear Diary,

Chocolate is bad for you. At least this very box I've obtained apparently contains the tainted treats of Talona. Those corpses left in its wake left me frightened yet inspired. Those others may not realize that I did in fact purchase a box, and that other left those strawberries which may very well also be poisoned simply upon the ground.

Of all dangerous things, This will not go to waste.

*takes the time to draw what appears to be a crude image of a wooden plank with lines emanating from it as if to emphasis majesty. The writing picks up eventually with another entry of sorts*

Diary, how could I explain to you the tragedy that was my faithful companion, Plankston. All it ever wanted was to bludgeon the fools into death, yet I did not care well enough for its feelings. I thought it was thirsty for the blood of the foolish ones, I dipped it into a rather macabre pool of blood in some crypt. This was a mistake for it drank deep and simply drowned, its material form melted and vanished before my eyes.

*another pause and another entry begins*

Just between you and me diary, I really do enjoy writing again. I put my trust into you fully, you would not betray me... would you? The last one that did served its final day roasting on a holy flame at the behest of a misguided cleric. Oh, but what is this? You remind me of their kindness.

Those of Illmater always shown me kindness that which I would not soon forget. The gentle nature, a sort of painful thought in such a cruel violent world. That which makes it ever more tragic. If only the world would not seek interest in conflict and endure a ceaseless love.

Alas, even as I count myself among the enemies of mankind, it becomes plain to me that it simply becomes futile with so much dreadful ignorance and fear among all.

Would I even try to use my powers to provoke peace?

[Jim Power]

Dear... NO forget the formalities, this is important!

*weird scribbling and sorts of excited writing*

Thedran! Haha, hmm I mutter aloud as I write. He did something naughty and now the Fist seek him with reward offered. Oh how I dream of obtaining this bounty, then I shall get the recognition I deserve!

But, this dream sullies itself with the knowledge that Thedran is no ordinary man. A living legend in his own right, possibly capable of anything.

Oh OH how unfortunate this is that even being surrounded with intrigue I still wish but a single conversation mayhap, maybe not even bothering with this nonsense at all.

Oh but I will, for too long this individual held much undue influence around Baldur's Gate, making it ever so hard to indulge in all sorts of mischief as I dwelt under his ever imposing shadow. How I hate him so! The way he indulges his actions with meaning, the way he maintains a wondrous strength and beauty.

There simply must be something I can do before his friends mayhap betray him or aid him! Perhaps ... perhaps Something! But what? There is only so much ruin I can wreck upon creatures, this would require much more planning.

Firstly however before all else I must find him in time. Otherwise my plans will be for naught.

[Jim Power]

ACCORDING TO THE ESTEEMED LANGSTON CANON:

Langston currently calls himself the Quasit as both an allusion to his self imposed monsterous nature and that he understands the power of identity. Those who have had personal experience with him when he identified himself as Langston may recoginze him as Langston but he himself may not acknoledge it or they could possibly forget his name.

His current diary is actually in his inventory 'written' in a coded language (a mix of Draconic and common) that can be read if a stranger so happens upon it and has a high enough Sense Motive. Some words however stand out regardless but may look odd in face of other ones or improper context. It may be a bit of a challenge to aquire it from his person however...

For some reason, Langston is not as prone to proclaim his love of the Brilliant Shining Lord (of darkness). This however does not yield yet that he acknoledges it, for he has yet to see a proper oracle in ages.

Langston stands alone. For whatever reason, loath to identify with groups unless they are of his own creation. Its his own loss given he laments the fact that he has yet to find others to speak to, at the same time stews in a petty jealousy of those who experience friendships.

[Jim Power]

Dear Diary,

I AM DOOMED! DOOMED I TELL YOU!

Woe is I, woe is I, so bold so pointless and fruitless.

Whatever connection I had to the realms of man surely severed thus of my own doing.

They surely will send agents to my demise. Irony of ironies. To be possibly hunted much like that other man, my only source of pride that which I never did break so much law.

Misfortune and woe, woe and misfortune. Heaped upon me, again. Again. Again.

But you know diary, I found it to be testament to my power and ability. They un-gagged me, fearing my sickly form and weakness, that I may perish. Oh but I write this with great pronouncement, to utter but a single word, my form shifting into something delightfully suitable for the task of freedom. My strength unmatched, I forced my way from the confines, taking my belongings with me. Those fools, they could not even recognize the value of you either diary, so clever you are being bound in a binding proclaiming a manual of alchemy.

To defy the will of mankind. To be free of their petty reasoning.

...

[Jim Power]

Dear Diary

My precious guise, returned to me. How I longed for it, such luck it does bring.

It proved its worth to me, a certain knight followed and with justice in mind attempted to subdue me. Oh but listen well, he made the mistake of healing me of all wounds, bandits attacked leaving him quite distract. I uttered a word and fled to safety.

Such luck it does bring, I would sing and sing and sing.

Alas, perhaps the hunters will become more bold, news of my fate more told.

Those knights of silver steel, they do not understand how I feel. Even when I attempted to explain the situation, he stood forthright in his accusation.

Horrors of horrors this be, worse evil yet I've to see. Dedication to such abstraction as justice, who are they to decide my fate? Its mine alone and theirs to await.

[Jim Power]

"Dear Diary..."

No that is not right. I cannot reach you, for I am bound and gagged. A mistake they wish not to make... again.

I merely write upon my mind.

...


Though this time, death is not so kind.

I should be dead, perhaps without a head.

Now left in the darkness, barely able to be moved.

But as I sit here, I cannot help but feel as if my spirit itself removed.

Misfortune abound, as I lay here... NO

No... the darkness, these walls, they close. Where am I? Why?

Hollow echos dreaded whispers do not return! Do not... I cannot stand them! Not now not now not now not now Please!

My heart is racing is this the ache of being, wait what is thi

IS th.

No.

No.

Yes?

NO!

no..



I am... alone.

And it, scares me so.

What have I done? What battle was to be won?

Nothing never. Ever. I am a fraud.

I've lost.



Woe... is... Langston...