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

//The following is fan ficton novel I have began working on sometime ago. Some of the faerunian facts are not accurate and this is intentional. This story is intended for mature readers only for as it progress's there will be many moral and adult themes that might not not be suitable for young undeveloped minds, themes such as right and wrong, good and evil, the means and the ends, love, justice hate, anger and faerunian politics and so on and so forth. if you have any questions, comments do not respond here i will be glad to respond to any pms you may send me. Yes you will also recognise a few of my characters in here, this is intentional.

//I am not on the server alot and the reason for this is upon my return from africa my brother has hooked me on World of Warcraft whic takes alot of my time. I will pop in from time to time and you can read my story here.

If you wish to contact me on Wow i am on the Farstriders server under the names Faldinnel and Dranthul, both alliance.


The Scarlet Six

The following writeings are, to all things, the best of my ability to bring to light a tale of the Scarlet Six. I am Fae'rin'dinar and I am but a minstrel from the secretive elven nation called Suldinessalar. I have traveled the length and width of faerun, bringing my music to the ears of the mass's and taking in return the stories of the world, some old and some new. I had been traveling for many years and I had just wandered into the human city called "Baldurs Gate", that is where the first letters of my tale begin but it certainly not where the tale ends. I dont know if it was the focus of the group on the tasks handed to them but my time among them was spent mostly on the side lines, most of the time they hardly seemed to notice me there (and sometimes I do wish i hadnt been there), which I find has allowed me to look at things from the ideal perspective of a narrator, from outside the proverbial box.

There were times, some freigthening, and some exciteing and all of them wonderful that made me all to aware they know I was following them and detailing their journey, ha! I cant tell you how many times that intrepid halfling broke my nose every time he found me following them.

Still...most of the time I was able to follow in their wake and should be able to detail their story from an excellent view from outside the previosly mentioned, proverbial box, despite that....aye as some things go I found myself inside the box looking outward...

Many people have taken an important role in the groups lives and I will not ommit any of such people, but...I get ahead of myself, with out further hesitation....

Oh..forgive me...I should tell you alittle about the heros in the story aye? It wouldnt do to have random personas dancing across my pages with no names aye?

-The Scarlet Six, as they became known as, was lead by a unearthly beautiful woman named Octavia Celestyr. She was, and is the epitome of "Good, and right". In one of the rare moments the group acknowledged my presence I was given a few moments to ask a few questions of the awe inspireing woman. She told me she was a descendent from two celestial parents in the skyward heavens of mount celestia! Aye folks that would, in the blood of it make her akin to an angel!. She used a common classification for her path of life, calling her self a "Paladin". The beautfiul woman claims to work for "The greater good" instead of following a singularly accepted god of justice and benevolence, indeed she states "The greater good is only as strong as the sum of its parts" which I have figured to mean she worships all of the gods that adhere to benevolence.

-The second and (and I know I will hear no end of grief from the words I prepair to right) equally handsome second in command of the group was known as Gerard Dalren. The right hand man had lived an unremarkable life until the day his village was ransacked by maurading orcs, leaveing him one of only five survivors!. He first met Octavia when he had visited a neighboring town, where he pleaded for help. When gerard saw the kindness in her heart and the strength of her spirit and sword arm he fell in love with her as most men do with such beauties, and much to his (and the rest of the groups surprise), Octavia seemed to share similar feelings.

-The third intrepid member who joined the six was a halfling named Hano Hustlefoot. The halfing, the source of many of my broken noses, was a thief at heart until one day as often thieves do he tried to leap a proverbial hurdle that was abit to high. Octavia and Gerard took the halfing under their wing, provided he meet certain...stipulations.

-The forth and perhaps the smartest of all of the six was a human wizard known as Larson Hex. The length of his travels with the Six yielded little information about his past, and despite his arrogance and his noble born mannerisms, he never the less proved time and time again to be a skilled and loyal companion to the group.

-The fifth and perhaps loudest of the Six was Torgeir Boldshield. The dwarven smith from the mountain hold of clan Torgeir joined the band of travelers after loseing a rather brutal and bloody battle over a peice of land left to him by his late uncle. His songs were loud and rowdy but he always held his spirits and everyones hopes as high as he held his mugs of ale.

-The last of the Six, was Adanna Hadron, a strikeingly beautiful priestess of Oghma, the faerunian god of knowledge and lore. Her mind and wits were sharp if not sharper then most swords, and it is probably because of her keen mind and intellect that she quickly became friends, and eventually a lover to Larson Hex.

So there you have it, those are the six I am detailing the lives of, such an unusual and unlikely group to be sure but their story is impressive to say the least. I could have told you more of the group above but then...there wouldnt be anything left for the story!.





I hope, after months of consideration that my tale will bring to light this wonderful group of men and women, and that I am able to accuratly illuminate their adventures, as well as mis-adventures.
Fae'rin'dinar
Minstrel of the Wind

Every story must begin with a prolog, this is a standard practice amongst most authors, yet each is different from one another much like each snowflake bares a different shape.

My prologue, is of a unusual nature as it is more of a history lesson then anything leading up to the beginning of my story. The information you are about to read might not make sense to the average reader, but to some it will be crystal clear and that is how it should be. The words below detail a mans grasp for power, his deeply burning desire for revenge and his lust for control, and mark my words readers you wont find any more details in writing. I labored for years trying to find the information you are about to read, and it came at a great cost to my mental clarity and my physical health.


I cannot shorten what is below, but I will say this it will eventually make sense at the end of my story, and as you read the prolog and indeed peruse the life of the Scarlet Six you need to ask yourself, "Why do the gods deny Arakons existance? Why did they hide records of his judgement, did his actions have other effects besides bloodshed?

Or perhaps more importantly...

"What were they afraid of?"

Fae'rin'dinar
Minstrel of the Wind
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"A History Of Hate".

The following is an excerpt from the journal of Yuronis, a solar who served as an emissary between the three gods of virtue and righteousness, Torm, Tyr, and Helm. Yuronis died one hundred years ago, when he was slain in a battle whos purpose was to close a portal that allowed the eternal blood war between the Baatezu and the Tannari to spill onto the prime material plane. The solar was given an honerable passing, but in his death he left a journal that spoke of things, things the Triad of good never wanted to be spoken aloud, let alone written.


Three thousand years ago, there was a man who helped define the words hate, and anger, a man so evil and dispecible even the gods refused to admit he even existed, and as far as the prime materials were concerned, he never did.

Arakon Basantis life started like many young knights in the realms. He had a very loving family with a mother, a father and four brothers and sisters, knights all of them. He trained long and hard to fufill the familys exectations, and it appeared that he would succeed, until his family failed.
As it tends to happen, Demons and Devils were an everyday topic for his family who (as members of holy faiths) often found themselves clashing against the abyssal and infernal hordes who..in the end won with attrition rather then strength.

The day his six family members were slain in an epic battle on the fourty second lair of the abyss was the day his heart broke and his word changed forever. He had trained for countless years, because of his faithfully strong family, a family who swore the gods would always protect him if he was loyal to them in turn. I dont know why he decided to do what he did, but his heart filled with hatred towards the gods, gods he felt abandoned his family in a time of need. He went on a hatred filled killing campaign, rallying the poor, the ragged, the faithless under his banner, causeing chaos and destruction across the countryside of Cormyr. Arakon was eventually killed dureing an ambush by Cormyrs elite group of soldiers called the purple dragon knights.

He was dead, at least thats what the knights belived, but they were utterly wrong in their assumptions. The mad mans crypt was invaded by a rogue cult of Cyric, who learned of his betrayal from well detailed tomes in the crypts depository. The high priests enacted a powerful ressurection ritual and brought the man back to life. Arakon went beserk at being brought back into a miserable existance and savagly murderd all but the high priest, for whom he was no match. The priest didnt kill him though, but whispered promises of power and wealth into the mans ears.

The months, and years went by, yet the world was unaware of the mans existance, he waited, and watched, and plotted his grand plan for revenge. Ten years after his revival, he had ascended to the rank of a high preist, and he decided the time was right to show his face. The years of servitude and emersion in evil acts gave to him, a sort of clarity. He realised that attacking churchs and temples, would not avenge his family, for it wasnt they who betrayed his bloodline, but it was the gods themselves. Arakon had carefully manipulated his cultists, who planted subtle suggestions to Tannari and Baatezu minions, urgeing them to confront their immortal enemies at certain points and times.

The day had come, his informants told him that the Demon and Devil hordes were about to engage each other in what they though were preemptive moves, unware that each side had been given the same tactical information. The armies smashed into each other, the blood spilling in great quantites, just another battle in the eternal Blood War, except this one didnt stay on one battle field. When the abyssal and infernal hordes clashed, Arakons men opened nine portals all over faerun, portals linked directly to each of the blood conflicts.

He waited, he knew it would happen, and before too long fate proved him right, the heavenly powers intervend right on time. The powers of good and right divided by the nine portals, left him the opening he needed. He had secured several portals on different planes, planes that would connect him to a plane where the triad of good, Helm, Torm, and Tyr occasionly met to discuss deific matters. He knew he could not slay the gods outright, but he didnt have to, he just wanted to loosen their grip on the world.

Arakon presnted himself to the triad, and promptly smashed a great black crystal sphere on the ground. The orb, created by a cadre of powerful wizards and clerics created a great gate to the ninth level of hell, which held many devils itching to spill celestial blood. The gods were outraged by this obviously, but they didnt understand the purpose behind this mad mans actions. The assult on the triad seemed to linger for an eternity, but Torm, Helm, and Tyr, being gods eventually dispatched the seemingly limitless hellspawn. Arakon seemed to revel in the gods actions, for he knew the damage had already been done.

The short distraction of the gods had made the celestials on the material plane pause in confusion, and they were massacered by the abyssal and infernal hordes. The blood spawn eventually retreated to their respective planes, and the portals closed. Arakon stood firm and calm as the triad shackled him in magical chains and charged him with the death of hundreds of celestial beings, and attempted deicide. They eventually banished him an eternity of imprisonment. I remember the last words he said at his sentencing.

"Good, an eternity gives me plenty of time to plan my next move".
Yuronis

Coming Soon
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Chapter One:
"A Lady's Love, and The Handy Halfling"