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

The following letter is sent to Sir Justin Crownsilver and First Captain Ardias Guthrun of the Flaming Fist via a messenger. Very similar letters are also scribed and delivered to the churches of Helm, Tyr, Ilmater, and Torm.

-a letter is passed around by Fist guardsmen waiting to be answered-

To who it may concern, I am Rhy Feivra, Aid to councilor Dajala Sliverleaf of Doron Amar. I am doing some research about a topic of much debate as of late and wish to know the Flaming Fists official position on the topic was.
Officially what is the Flaming Fists stance on Orcs or Grey Orcs on the dukes lands, and in city of Baldur's gate itself? I am not looking to enforce the law or use and hide behind it in any way but seeking a quotable answer to what the law is.

-Rhys Feivra

*a letter left at the office's of Duke Eltan*

Hello Sir,

My name is Joonie Steamdrops and I am a Priestess of Tymora. I write you to seek your permission to minister to the troubled souls in the prison of the Flaming Fist.

I would use Tymora's blessings to cure those afflicted with diseases which could spread to other prisoners, and use her restorative powers to heal any wounds.

I would also offer spiritual counselling to any who wish it in the hope that in time some of the prisoners could grow from the experience. Perhaps in this manner some of these troubled souls could be changed from burdens on your magnificent city to productive and caring citizens upon their scheduled release.

I can be reached through the Temple of Tymora or at the Blade and Stars Inn. Thank you for your time and attention.

-Joonie Steamdrops, Priestess of Tymora

A beautiful, auburn haired, human female wearing a blue tunic gracefully approaches the Flaming Fist fortress in the Palace District. The nearby guards may or may not comment with words similar to, "Oh, it's her!" She steps confidently up to the Officer of the Gate and inquires with a diplomatic but somewhat urgent tone:

"exkuse me Sir. my name iS valQiS SanejmeH. *motions to herself* Where is justin? I mean, where is your kommander KrownSilver? I need to talk to Him about private topik. I riteD Him let'r but He Did not respond to my let'r. it is important tlhat we talk. Where kan i vind Him?"

The guards mumble something lewd to each other then laugh. She gives them a stern look which quickly stifles their laughter.

"iv you kannot tell me now, tlhen you kan Send message to me at tlhe wite mask tlheater. *motions NE with hand* Sir, i Hope tlhat you kan Help me vind Sir krownSilver. it konsern important.... private... topik" *she offers a paper on which is written her name and White Mask Theater*

The officer on duty takes the paper then she steps back and offers an encouraging smile (1d20+42 diplomacy) while waiting patiently for a reply.

//// request someone in the know of Flaming Fist activities and politics to advise just where the heck SJC has gotten off to IC-wise here (and OOC via PM if appropriate) ////

A large galleon bearing the mark of the Flaming Fist can be seen anchored in the docks. A battalion of troops disembark from the ship, amoungst them is the Colour Sergeant, returning from the off shore front lines. The Sergeant however seems disturbed, some men whisper that he talks to himself, others have mentioned that he carries around a solid gold bone engraved in red silk. Whatever the case may be, Rocshanks is not himself.

(this is long, sorry in advance)

***report taken by the Flaming Fist in their compound in the Palace District***

Citizen: Kean Harrington
Occupation: Scald (story teller)

Report:
A young lady, claiming to be 17 years old, arrived at the compound with a bad limp. She claimed that she'd been caught by a spell while watching a dual which quickly devolved into a chaotic, unruly witch hunt. While she was incapacitated by the spell she claims that she was maliciously tortured, threatened with imprisonment, threatened with further torture, and threatened with death by burning. Below is her written statement.


“While sitting out at the campfire in the farmlands, just after telling one of the earliest stories known about Sir John Buckturner from before he was a knight or a well known hero, there was a dispute between a filthy orc and a man I'd married the previous night as part of a joke that I took too far.

A Tiefling claiming to be a Paladin of Tyr (HA) was going to oversee the duel to ensure it was not to the death, and a strange man (I later heard his name was Gareut) was going to observe it along with me. After moving off the road the duel started and the orc started to attack when the man hid from view. When he returned to view he then changed form, taking the shape of a powerful beast. At this point the orc screamed out something about a demon, the Paladin joined the attack, and the other observer.

Now, I may be no mage but I tell lotsa stories and I've heard about plenty of spells that let a person change their form so I hardly believed this was a demon but rather just a shape changed person. Besides, I am a story teller, it is my job to watch and not get involved so the story can be told later. So I continued to observe as things changed into a running battle with one person (now shape changed back to a human) fighting off three others trying to kill him. So much for a duel. Or keeping it from being to the death.

During the battle the Tiefling b***h ran up to me and I told her I wasn't gonna help because I was just watching so I could tell the story later. She then threatened me with imprisonment because, in her own words, I was a witness! She demanded to know the man's name, and I said I did not know it and that I had merely married him the previous day because I thought it would be funny.

About then I was hit by a stray spell and I fell to the ground wounded. Before I could recover the psycho Gareut held a scimitar to my throat. When that didn't get him what he wanted he said I would be arrested by the Fist, who would torture me and then have me burned. He then proceeded to cast a spell which shocked me with lightening, and if that wasn't enough then stabbed me in the leg with a dagger that drained my life from me.

Only then did the so called Paladin decide that MAYBE it would be a good idea to take me someplace safer. Of course having just been stabbed in the leg I couldn't exactly walk. I was brought back to the farmlands and given some first aid.

Some time after that Psycho Gareut and the filthy orc returned, carrying a body which had been stabbed and kicked quite obviously much more than is required to kill anyone. The sight was sickening as there were cuts and stab wounds all over in addition to the head having been kicked into an unrecognizable mess. They then proceeded to continue to threaten me with burning and torture while I laid there helpless with only my words to defend myself.

During this whole thing the so called 'Paladin of Tyr' decided that was enough of that and went to arrest the obviously murderous bastards for terrorizing an innocent bystander who happened to have the misfortune to be caught up in their rampage. Oh wait, ha, no. That is what a REAL Paladin of Tyr would have done. But not that pretending tiefling, oh no. The most she did to intervene was to tell them that they shouldn't be saying such things.

I'm convinced that the only reason I didn't get executed and burned right then and there is because one of the Weave Masters happened to be present at the time in addition to several other witnesses that they would have had to slaughter to cover up their heinous mistreatment of myself and their own blood lust. Yet even then Gareut continued to loudly proclaim that he wished to burn me immediately, without even the dignity of a fake trial, while his murderous orc companion looked on with that sneering grin of his, doubtless wishing to have his own way with me just before I was put to death. And in spite of all of this I had YET to do so much as draw a weapon, not that it would have done much good as I was already quite helpless thanks to the psycho’s earlier torture.

It is only by the grace of the Weave Masters that I am still alive today. They took me back to their tower then raised the man I'd married the day before (it turns out his name is Fabrege) and questioned him, however having just been raised after having been cut down his own memory of events could generously be called muddled to the point of uselessness.

I received further treatment for my wounds in the tower but still walk a limp and seem to be healing more slowly than I should, a result that I am sure is because of the evil weapon that Gareut used upon me. Still I fear to venture out any longer as I have seen that man often and start to suspect that he was stalking me long before he even had an excuse to try and kill me. As such I am unable to go out any longer to ply my trade as a story teller for fear that the murderous b*****d will appear and cut me down when there is nobody around to defend me from his blood lust.

It is my respectful request that I be provided with an armed Flaming Fist escort while I conduct my trade in the farmlands, I am willing to pay any necessary fees to obtain some measure of security. In addition I wish for this psycho Gareut to be brought in, and although I personally don't think someone who tortures and threatens a injured women with death by burning deserves it I wish him to stand trial for his heinous crimes.

Further I request that his orcish companion, if found, be killed on sight as is proper for his kind. I have no wish to meet him in a dark alley considering the looks he was giving me.

Finally, I want an official inquiry into the actions and behavior of Triel, the so called 'paladin' of Tyr. Although she was the only one to act even half decent to me the most generous thing I can say is she provided initial treatment for my wounds, then thereafter continually failed to uphold justice as a TRUE paladin of her god would have.

One of the Weave Masters has offered to testify in addition to my statement, although as already mentioned here she only arrived after I had initially been tortured and received treatment for the cut on my leg and the lightening burns on my back. She did, however, hear that psycho Gareut repeatedly make threats upon me and observed both his eagerness to have me burned and Triel's inaction in bringing his behavior to heel.

I myself will also be willing to testify, under any truthfulness charms if necessary, so long as Gareut has already been brought in and is disarmed so I do not have to fear any further retaliation on his part.

edit: Minor edit for language.

The soldier cradles his badly-mangled and horribly infected arm, his face pale with fever. Although he had been offered healing, he had refused it out-of-hand: He had a duty, and that duty was to report to Duke Eltan. Only then would he seek the rest he so desperately needed.

Standing before the Red Duke himself, the wounded soldier continues speaking in a hoarse voice, hardly above a whisper.

"... and then the ship was set upon by sea devils, sir. Dozens of them. They clambered over the gunwales in the middle of the night. The alarm was raised, sir, and Sir Crownsilver led the defense. I was instructed, with some of the others, to ready the life boats and get away with the passengers."

The man's jaw stiffens, and he continues.

"We had not gotten far when there was a loud boom and a flash of light behind us. We all turned to see the ship go up in fiery pieces. Although we recovered most of the remains of Lavain Celtis, Tomasso Beltas, and Gaven Lakes, the remains of Sir Crownsilver and the others were not found." He clears his throat. "We suspect the sharks got them, sir."

Stepping forward, the soldier holds out his good hand to Captain Belaurion, dropping two rings into the man's palm. "Sir Crownsilver gave these to me before I left, sir. He wanted his family ring to go to the Lady Valqis, of Candlekeep, and he wanted his station ring to be given to you."

The exchange finished, the Duke thanks the soldier, who is then escorted to the infirmary for healing and rest.

*A white envelope adorned with the Weave Masters insignia is delivered to the Flaming Fist castle for the Captain Daaf Rocshanks.*

"Captain Rocshanks,

We are grateful for the news, however gruesome they are. We can reassure you that the matter you have described shall be thoroughly investigated by the Council. We are certain that you would not have brought it to us if there was no serious grounds for such a claim and if it was but another rumour spread by an ill-wisher.

You shall be promptly informed about results of the investigation.

Respectfully,
~Aileen Lonergan,
The Weave Masters Council."

another letter was given to a guardsman in front of the flaming fist headquater, it was adressed to Daaf Rocshanks and arrived at is desk. in it, in finely elaborated, handwriting stays:

"Dear colour sergant Rocshanks, on behalf of what happened previously, i got information on Erics behalf wich may or may not change the view everyone has got on the matter.
I tried to bring it in earlier but had to wait in front of cour castle, the moment the doors opened again, it was to late.

please seek me out as soon as your schedule allows it.

sincerly: Narasida Zakine"

*Galen'ael rots in his cell, silent as death. Hidden in the shadows of his cell he says nothing but a few phrases in Druidic*

"Silvanus forgive me...I know not what has been done to me..."

*over and over again he chants as shadows dance around his form and he writhes in pain...waiting*

*Having heard the news of Galen. Isenduil has made haste to The Fist quarters*

*Isenduil arrives*

Is there any chance i can see my old friend Galen. I am High Ranger Isenduil Eriadon

*Galen'ael sits in his cell, a moment of clarity as his memories of the last 6 months, the time of which he was gone from the City rewind in his mind*


He sent me North...seeking power..power to bring our enemies to our knees...I left the Grove in a time when they needed me...My heart was heavy that day as I left North...

I traveled many days and found myself in the High Forrest. I was filling ill and weak...my dreams haunted by things black and morose...

I camped one dark night and awoke ... wandered to a Circle of Stones...the taint of the place heavy like copper in my mouth.

The Circle...an old and abandoned Grove...sickly and wrong.

Here I felt the veil thinned and my pain strangely dissappeared....

For reasons I do not understand, I began to pray..chant...something of the sort in this vile and place...

I found myself pulled away and visions of power and darkness filled my mind and heart...

A voice mumbled a name...Lord Seorsa'ssr..a name only known to those I chose to walk with for the greater cause of the Balance...

Pain inflicted my being as the stars swirled above my head and infected me...promising that which I sought.

Power...to make a difference...to affect change when the others of the Grove would not.

I called them family and fought beside them, taught them, guided them, and led them...and failed them...I limited by The Council..so I thought at the time...

But, in my heart, I called them cowards for lacking the will to do what had to be done...the burden of Arch Druid upon my heart seeking a solution to the challenges of the Grove...

As I swirled in the darkness, stars twirling above my head...I surrendered to the unseen will before me...the Veil here thin to that plane of Shadow...and at last...I surrended becoming a pawn to something I did not understand and gave in to the promises that came to my ears in whisper.

At last, my own Hubris over came me and I returned to Baldurs Gate..the memory of the night fuzzy and far off...but changed I felt...

No here I sit, in the cells of the Fist, shackeled like the animal I do not remember being...blood upon my hands and my soul...

"Father...forgive me...I have dishonored my People and Your Cause...I was wrong...I am tired...so tired....."

*Galena'el slips into the darkness of his cell and knows no more as he coughs black bile upon the floor and tears run down his cheeks.*

As Galen wars within himself, Jonas Rokranon goes about gathering a small group of people who he feels has the best chance of discovering what is wrong with the druid. He races against time, as the aasimar was only given a few days by Captain Guthrun to gather his 'delegation'.

After watching the druid vomit black bile and spew verbal abuse that rivals even the Captains foul mouth, Rocshanks confirms Sergeant Grunga's report. With a cold voice Rocshanks utters "Pfft, we're nat gonna pay ta exercise t'is druid. Feck em, 'is fate is sealed. Put 'im on deaf row and exacute 'im". He turns and leaves the cells.