Baldur's Gate : The Sword Coast Chronicles : NWN2 Persistent World

Things seem to be advancing well with B. He has become much more than a curiosity and I feel drawn to him as I once did Mr. Black...I fear for him as well. I've not told him the danger I face which he may become a part of should we continue. He has recently brought me many tomes. Three of which intrigue me and daunt me. Dusty old tomes with much lore concerning incantations of protections from dark energy. The few I have deciphered were divine in origin and also dispelled my power over the fires of Baator once I evoked their power.
I am leary to continue along divine paths lest my lady frown apon me and I fall from her graces.
I continue my research of a possible invocation to protect against draining touches of undead and Xolti, but my concentration now focuses on a new dagger I've aquired. This blade seems to also sap it's targets reserve of energy. If I could fasion a blade to absorb that energy to revitalize my own endurance at critical times it may be enough to sustain me in the battle to come...
I am scheduled to meet B tonight. I am excited and fearful. I am experienced enough with men but not so much with one I...care for? Did I just write that?
Still he is an outsider and that does stimulate my curiosity. I just don't know. I feel I should flee from him and this place. I am not ready to face Xolti and not ready to share my danger with B.

Berek Silvermane. It actually feels good to write "B's" name here finally. Like a relief almost. Foolish of me but there it is.
He knows everything.
I took him to the very spot in the book shop where it happened.
Where the servant of Baator struck its deal with me and the others.
Where poor Sino fell refusing to turn from his mistress.
Where I bartered my soul to try and rob Xolti of his prize.
Where I exchanged that precious currency of hell for power to defeat the fey shadow demon.
Berek now knows it all.
Yet he remains.
I don't know what binds this Aasimar to me. The flirtations and innuendo seem insufficient to risk ones life.
He has heard all I have to tell and offers his aid. I would be alone in this ordeal if not for him.
Perhaps my selfishness has kept me from sparing him my fate.
Perhaps I just do not wish to die alone. But here we are and here we remain.
Do I dare love him for his loyalty?
I sit among my tomes and scrolls, searching for a way I might survive the trials ahead. A way WE might survive. I am doubtful.
And my mind ever drifts from fruitless research to the way he held me on the bridge in Nashkel. The cold mist from the river slick on his plated chest. The taste of sweat on his face from wearing his helm too long.
I will soon reward him for his foolhardy attraction and stubborn loyalty.
Yes. It is time.

I've translated more of the Illithids grim tome.
The language that squid used, or I should say languages, are so jumbled together it is difficult to make sense of.
He was either mad or a genius. Perhaps both.
But whatever the case, he described the Eye of Fear and Flame as a skeletal creature who has the essence of flame in one eye and the ability to instill fear in the other.
He, the illithid, coveted this and seeks to remove the skeletons head hoping to retain these abilities therein. More importantly the squid described the creature absorbing the life essence of its victims. Then using a slender rod, transfering that essence into itself.
My research has been extensive and though I do not claim to know all, never have I heard of such a relic.
I have other speculations.
I believe the illithid to be mistaken in its observations, if it ever truly saw it with its own eyes.
More likely is it that the skeletons use of its own power drains energies from itself. I price I know all too well. It then uses the rod to restore what it has lost.
If this is the case and the rod has the power to restore life energies, even on evil beings, then it is of use to me.
It may all be for naught however. I still cannot make out the map in the tome. The scratchings are so queer it could even be under ground as much as above, though it would be an extensive cave system were it the case.
Perhaps I might find a man of the wilds or explorer who might recognize the landmarks. A cartographer?

A peculiar change in events.
While following up on some research in the book store I was visited again by Aslat. The fey foe of Xolti who has been helpful and hopeful I might defeat the demon.
He had come with little aid this time, however.
Confident that I could not endure the trial of confronting the thing that hunts me, Aslat suggested a rather extreme measure. To implore my mistress for further aid.
I would lie if I claimed this never entered my mind. My dark bargains with the Baator may have saved my soul from the demon, but not my life. And I had yet to achieve the might needed to lead me confidently against Xolti. But daring to risk yet another bargain, when I had so little of the currency the devils trade in, seemed foolish.
Yet, as I've written, I was at an impass. I've not turned up anything in my research that may prove useful against the fight ahead. And my own life is no longer the only one hanging in the balance, now that Berek has volunteered to share my danger. My options were dwindling.
I prepared.
I drew the symbol in the floor with chalk powder. I lit the candles at its corners. I placed the contracts for souls I had collected at its event horizon as tribute. Four souls of poor fools who had entered bargain for their lives were now what I would bargain with for my own.
My dagger cut clean across my palm and I clenched my fist, almost willing the blood to not pour forth. Pour it did and splashed into the summoming circle.
Nothing.
For an instant I knew my mistress had forsaken me and ignored my call. She would not send her slave to hear my empty pleas.
I think I almost hoped it true, so fearful I was.
The lights dimmed.
The candles ignited in blue flame.
The familiar smell of brimstone, and she was there.
A beautiful she devil stood, barely clad, between the candles smiling at me. But this was no typical erinyes slave to she who owns me.
At once I felt the awe inspiring, humbling power flow from her. Within this vessel was a true power. She had come, herself.
I fell to my face in humility. In subjugation. In fear.
The avatar of Glasya laughed wickedly.
"Dearest Sereniti, it does me good to see you tremble. I can taste your fear." She said half humorous, half dismissively.
All I could squeek from trembling lips was "Your servant mistress."
She bid me stand and I obeyed.
She was running her hands lovingly over the devils form she chose to take. Her lips pursed. Her expression seemed one of near rapture as she explored the curves of her ivory skin. It was impossible to not stare but she caught my gaze with sharp, knowing eyes.
Most of our conversation in lost to me, or I've no skill with words to put it to these pages properly.
But she knew why I called her.
She knows the shadow demon that hunts me.
She showed me, and for the first time I saw Xolti as Glasya wanted me to see it. To fear it.

If someone finds these pages when I am gone, let them heed this single warning.
Do not think to make a bargain with the powers of Baator that will benefit you over them. Do not think to cheat such a power.

Whatever hopes I had of mercy, of attaining an upper hand in these dealings, were shattered when I saw Xolti there before me.
The effectiveness was not lost on my mistress.
She laughed happily knowing my fear was complete.
Knowing I would do anything she asked to be rid of the fey demon forever.
Her bargain was for the ability to overcome this foe. Though it might require me becoming something other than the Sereniti I am. Molded into a form of Glasyas liking. To be reborn in her. Through her.
I am saved.
I am utterly lost.

I, Aslat, fey of the dream court and bitter foe of Xolti record the events I witnessed just hours ago. While the images are fresh in my mind. I have volunteered to act as recorder as my ladies words are not as poetic as my own. May Sereniti find favor in my works.

She was putting some tomes back on the shelves. Newer parchments, bound in leathers from the wolves of the tradeway. Hides purchased from a farmer, whom collects the skins of the beasts, cures them, and sells them to various book binders.
A woman who looked older than her years cautiously entered the Shelf of Many Books. She pretended to browse a shelf, looking to Sereniti every so often. Sereniti let her browse for a bit, noticing the womans uneasiness. After a bit, my lady approached her.
“Excuse me. ma’am. Is there a certain work I can help you find? Or is there something else I can help you with?”
The woman acted nervous but feigned insult. “I can read. I know what I seek.”
“Of course.” Sereniti replied with a smile turning away. “But you should know every book on that shelf is written in Draconic. Are you familiar with the tongue of mages?”
The woman was embarrassed, and seemed afraid, but composed herself. “Actually, if you would help, I seek lore on diseases.” she said. Her demeanor was stern but her eyes were pleading and my lady, Sereniti sensed her anguish.
“There are a few scrolls that cover such here.” answered Sereniti. “I may have what you seek, but more specialized lore would be better sought at Candlekeep. Can you be specific?”
The woman looked agitated. “I…” she began. “I do not know. No one seems to know. May I speak plainly, lady Sereniti?”
“You know my name?” Sereniti asked. “I do not know you, I think. But my mind has been wandering of late. Am I mistaken?”
The woman shook her head. “You may have seen me in the shops. I have seen you. But that is unimportant.” The woman broke down into sobs.
“Come. Sit.” My lady offered. “Sit and speak plainly then, if you would.”
The woman wiped her eyes and tried to recompose, but she didn’t look up. “My husband was a soldier in the war with Amn.” she began. “He was a scout in their lands. His mission was to spy out movements of their soldiers.”
“Go on.”
“He is a good man, lady. He came home to me and our little girl. He provides. He loves.”
Sereniti smiled. “I’ve no doubt.”
“You see,” she continued, “he has contracted a terrible ailment. He wastes away.”
Again comes the tears.
“You would be better served by a priest, I think. There are…”
“No!” the older woman shouted. “Apologies, lady Sereniti. I, WE have tried the temples, the hospitolars, the priests. They took our coin and were unable to help. No one knows why he fades.”
Sereniti stood. “I am not sure how I…”
“We have tried the gods of Baldurs Gate. The lords of light refuse mercy!” Sobs again.
“Ma’am, I…”
“You are a witch!” she shouted then cowed in fear.
“You know…you know strange magics. Can you not help? Will you not try?”
Sereniti was obviously shocked but hid her emotion. “I’m afraid you have me confus...”
“No!” the woman interrupted. “I know you can help. My husband, my Carl, said he saw you raise someone from bitter wounds. That you called on no deity of ours. That your words were…dark.”
The workings in my ladies mind at that moment were only made known to me later. Sereniti confided in me that if such knowledge were to be made known to the public. To those of the city where she stayed, she would be ruined, hunted…killed. Such was her mind and such set these actions into motion.
Sereniti sighed and looked beaten. “Such healing may not be within my power but…”
“But within your gods power?” the woman pleaded. “You can find a way? I will pay whatever the cost!”
“Whatever the cost.” Sereniti whispered.
A trip through the Palace District and into the East Gate area found us climbing stairs to a loft. I followed invisibly, as I always do, but stayed close to my lady. The smell of rotting flesh and filth was thick in the dusty apartment. It was a single room with a bed, a hammock, and a splintered wooden table. In the hammock was a man. Decrepit was he, as flesh blistered and fell. His eyes, nearly swollen shut, still blinked as Sereniti brought the candle to him. Their daughter let drip water from a towel into his chapped lips.
Sarah, the little girl went wide eyed as my lady was escorted to his side.
“Gretchyn.” the man hissed and almost smiled to her.
“I am here, love.” she replied feigning a sound of hopefulness in her voice. “I’ve brought her.”

The man’s eyes adjusted and he saw my lady. He knew her for who she was, or at the least, who he thought she was. The little girl, Sarah, had her own thoughts and fled his side for the corner of the loft.
Sereniti knelt by the man. She said the words and her hands glowed with a pink-purple light. The glow of her hideous energies seemed to flow over the man. Sereniti cried in false pain and collapsed, withdrawing the eerie glow.
Sereniti looked over to where I stood in my invisibility and I, Aslat, knew her lie.
She closed her eyes and panted for air. “This is beyond me.” she whipered. “I lack the strength.”
“No!” Gretchyn cried. “You must succeed! You must try again!”
“The illness is too great.” Sereniti whispered, out of breath. “The cost is too great.”
“I will pay.” said Sarah, the little girl. “Please save my daddy. I will pay whatever it takes.”
“We both will.” responded Gretchyn. “Just please save him. Whatever it takes…”
Sereniti smiled at me in the shadows.
“I know someone who can help, perhaps. But her price is high.” Sereniti said, half hopeful.
“Whatever it takes.” echoed the little girl. Gretchyn merely nodded consent.
My lady cleared the floor in a wide circle. Removed the table, the boxes, the bags, the straw.
She took the pouch from her bag and sprinkled the white chalk on the floor boards in a queer design I have only seen once before.
Sereniti placed and lit the candles.
“Glasya. Hear me.” She whipered.

I have come into the light. Content no longer to hide in shadowy sanctuary.

I have made my name known in the markets, in the streets. I have carved my name into the bark of trees in the fey infested Cloakwoods. I have whispered his name into the blackest of night and screamed it to the stars.

Still Xolti, the demon shadow fey, would not come.

Aslat has left me for some time now. I know not where he's gone or why, save he would not see the spiraling madness I was losing myself to.

Berek has been absent as well.

I can no longer find peace in my studies. It seems a wasted attempt.

I am promised the strength to defeat my enemy at great cost. But if the hunter no longer seeks me as prey, all is for not.

It's been a lunar cycle since my hand last put words to journal.

Aslat has returned. It seems he was off observing some pagan
ritual involving the Dream Court of fey.

More importantly, Aslat had learned of a solar event that envolved the Nightmare Court was soon to take place. Xolti was a fey of the Nightmare Court. Aslat explained that the world was connected by nodes of power for the fey. These lines connected at nexus points all over the world.
While within the event horizon of these conduits, fey may communicate with each other in other such points, many miles and even continents away. Even travel between the points was possible.

I waved it off. I knew as much from my studies, but was naive to his message. Xolti would know if I were standing in such a magic ring during the event. I couldn't travel to Xolti but he could come to me, if he so chose.

Aslat said an ancient druidic circle not more than five days ride was such a magic node. He would take me there and the hunt, one way or another would end.

However, my little fey friend also informed me that all fey are at their prime while standing in such a ring during celestial events. Xolti would be at his strongest during our confrontation. Not happy tidings.

Glasya promised the strength to defeat the demon fey but did that include my foolishly provoking Xolti during his magically enhanced prime? I couldn't know.

But determination stole my fear. Hardened my resolve. I readied to go, wondering what strength my mistress had granted for the battle ahead.

"Sereniti..." I heard her voice at the door just as I thought of it. HER voice. Glasya.

I rushed to open it, expecting a fiery erinyes to be smiling evily at me.

But there stood Berek.

The ride was hard and long. In four days and nights we rested very little. The horses were winded and coated in sweat as we approached the druidic ring.

We were rested but pushed the beasts hard to reach our destination before the stars lit the night sky.

The sun was setting as we approached the obvious energy nexus. The trees forming the event horizon were wilted and dry. Strange runes were carved into the long dead trunks. The ground scorched as if it aged a hundred years in a day. The corpses of dead animals, bones of more humanoid looking beings littered the ground within the invisible circumference.

As the suns last beams cut through the pines to the west, the thin glows of will-o'-wisps could be seen twinkling into existence within the circle of trees.

The shadows seemed to deepen supernaturally and even Aslat cowered away from the two of us.

We enhanced our abilities through our own gifts and the use of the magic inscriptions of others. Once our resources were spent I held Berek. I told him he shouldn't have come. He only smiled and lowered his helm.

Resolve took me. I unshouldered my own shield and walked with fake confidence into the center of the blackened circle calling its name.

Aslats words rang true for the demon fey Xolti heard my calls.

The cold crisp laughter of evil incarnate filled the air around me. I could see my breath in the chill night air as he taunted me.

Berek drew sword as the shadows seemed to pour into a central spot like a dark liquid swiling into the shallow of a bowl. Then it was there. Standing a good ten feet tall, cloaked in the darkness of the shadow plane.

Berek, building his own resolve, placed himself between me and Xolti. He pointed his sword at the black form as it cackled in delight. The battle was begun.



The sword of Berek somehow found a home in the translucent form and the demon shadow felt itself torn asunder.

Vitriolic fury I unleashed at my enemy. Bathing it in the eerie green glow of infernal acid.

The words flew from my lips, summoning the power of Baator to strike the power from the shadow plane.
It swung gangly limbs at the armored warrior. Again and again Berek dove beneath such strikes and followed with the flash of steel from his blade finding its mark in the shade.

Xolti switched his tactics and the cold claws dug into Berek, frosting his breastplate in unnatural cold. On such occasions the shadow would attempt to maneuver around the unyielding man to reach its true goal. The object of its desire. Its hate. Sereniti Wearloga was well shielded from such attempts.
Berek lost his sword with a well placed strike and tumbled away to nurse soar wounds and regain his weapon. Xolti laughed at the opportunity to reach me, but the laugh was more labored than the glee it rang when the battle first begun. It was not indestructible. It could know pain. It now knew fear as it approached me. But its arms reached out hungrily.

My shield deflected a dark blow and I screamed the words, summoning power from wherever it might come.
The acidic anger poured from the heavens coating the shadowy form. In anger it struck out again and again. My shield arm weakened under the blows. My legs trembled under the weight of my hunters unrelenting attacks. It swung again and my disk shield flew from my grasp, nearly breaking my arm, as the other hands fist slammed hard into my ribs.

I fell to one knee, summoning the last reserves of strength within me. One more bout of eldritch power was unleashed as it recovered from its over reaching attacks and closed in to finish me.
My entire life I lived in fear of this moment. I was hidden as a child. I hid myself even as a young adult. I bartered my very soul for the power to survive this encounter, and still I fail.

I closed my eyes and willed the armor of Baator to surround me one last time. To cover me with its infernal shield and the power flowed over me. It was not enough.

Xolti hammered at me and the protection of the hells turned the bulk of his ire, but such brute force was unknown to me. Even the hill giants of Naskel Foothills seemed to be less fierce in strength.

I hadn't the endurance, the wind left in my lungs for another tumble. Another dodge was beyond me. I was forced to the ground again and I closed my eyes in anticipation.

The thing shrieked, and even as I looked up at the hulking form, it was split from left shoulder to right hip by Bereks blade in a long, strong stroke.

There stood my knight. Forgotten in the feys arrogance, between the twain halves that were Xolti, falling to its ruin.

It's death toll echoed out of the clearing around us, scattering the remaining will-o'-wisps to the wind.

Wounds heal.

I awoke in the room Berek rented for me. The large candle that I lit prior to sleep taking me was long since melted away.

Berek was gone. Aslat was gone. Xolti was gone.

A thin beam of sunlight pierced the wooden shutters illuminating the small room.

I lie on a bed of furs and hides, covered by silk sheets. Sitting up found pain, reminding me where the demon shadows claws found their mark across my belly.

Looking under the silks I saw that Berek had applied a paste to the blackened wound. I also found that the paste was all I wore.

How sweet of him to remove my clothing while I slept. For my own comfort, no doubt.

The wound was still cool to the touch, even through the medicinal pasty substance, the touch of the shadow plane was evident.

I sat up and found he had also left me a bottle of cidar with a note that simply read: "for the pain" I didn't bother with the cup but put bottle to lips and drank deeply, I was so parched. I wondered how long sleep held me in its tender grasp. I felt as I hadn't eaten in days.

Even now, only an hour later as I write this, the roast hen I ordered is nearly stripped to bones and I hunger still. I will get some bread on my way out, and perhaps some more cidar as well. I have a long journey ahead and I am over due.

First, I must write a letter to leave with the proprietor for Berek. In case he returns.

(PM sent)

/// Unless a DM takes up this plot again in some new way involving fey or other posts in this thread, this chapter is concluded.
Thanks to BlueRoom, TeoDeath, IamDeath, Zlaayer, Barracuda, Trap, Kaafer, DM NAPOLEON, DM MDWAGNER, and the other players who made this chapter fun for me! Special poke to STRAHD and WAGNER who inspired me to a new perspective in Serenities path.
Here ends Serenitis book of fey.
Further entries will be made in "A Dance with Devils thread " ...
http://www.bgtscc.net/viewtopic.php?f=20&t=27641
If anyone actually reads these, I hope I brought a little joy to your day. ////