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

Flamerule 20, 1360 DR - Baldur's Gate, Eastway District - sitting with Kefra around a fire

The world-weary half-elf put her drink down long enough to ask Samuel, "Why did you come here?"

"Like I said. I've been lurking around, trying to find someone who can teleport me to Thesk," Samuel answered. "Though at this point, it feels like an exercise in futility."

"I didn't ask what are you doing. Why did you come here?"

"Oh. You mean, why am I even in the city in the first place?"

"Correct."

"Right. Well. That's kind of-" The young man considered the long and winding chain of events that had lead him back to the Sword Coast. He doubted the bleary-eyed drunkard wanted to hear his life story. "You want the long version or the short version?"

"The long version, there's time," she replied, defying Samuel's expectations.

"You asked for it." He sighed and shrugged. "So I was a member of a yaku-" Samuel paused, realizing the Faerunian probably hadn't heard the term "yakuza" before. "Eh, a gang, basically. A gang with Kara-Turan roots. One of my mentors basically turned traitor, and ended up getting in our way.
"You remember several months ago, all the mess with the gods coming down to the mortal level? Well, during that whole mess, I ended up fighting my mentor. And I'm not just boasting; I was very good. I actually used weapons back then. So I was, in short, winning. He was a dead man. But then he started pulling off holy feats, and don't ask me how."

She lifted her canteen once to sip from it, though she paused and let it back down almost immediately. "Prayer... probably," the half-elf said. She blinked slowly, motioning for him to continue.

"Maybe. But the gods were mortal at the time. Well, all except one, apparently. Anyways. He ended up beating me. By the skin of his teeth." Samuel remembered how Sempo's wounds had healed in seconds, how the old man had fought on with a power that could only have been divine. "So then he ran off to stop the rest of us, and left me for dead.
"I don't know how long I was out, but this monk came by. He tended to my wounds, and then, when the gods pranced back into the heavens and started granting holy powers again, he healed me fully. Turns out he was a monk-priest who followed the Celestial Bureaucracy... You heard of them?"

". . . Vaguely," the half-elf responded. "An eastern conglomerate of faiths." She continued to surprise.

"Basically," Samuel agreed. "Anyways, for the next year or two, I stuck with him. The gang I was with, they talked a lot about the rise of Kara-Turans in Faerun. But... I guess I started seeing why my mentor turned away from them. All their talk started looking a bit self-serving, the more time I spent with the monk. He was Kara-Turan through and through. Like, actually from Kara-Tur. I was born in Telflamm. Faerun.
"But he didn't care about where you were from or whether you were Faerunian or Kara-Turan. All he cared about was, were you capable of enlightenment? If yes, he'd help you. If not, he wouldn't waste his time with you. He cared about Kwan Ying more than about Kara-Tur. Anyways. He taught me about Kwan Ying, the Celestial Bureaucracy, and I started seeing what it really means to be Kara-Turan. Like, beyond the label and identity. I dunno if that makes sense.
"Then the Tuigans started invading Thesk. Part of me was thrilled about it. An eastern invasion into Faerun? Just what I dreamed of, you know? But that monk? He didn't care about where they were from. He thought they were scum, hurting people who didn't do anything wrong. So he fought the Tuigans, killed them mercilessly. He died defending Faerunians against an eastern force." Samuel paused, pained by the memory of the battle at Two Stars. "Like I said, the Tuigans were unstoppable.
"I'd run into my mentor again by then. He was also fighting the Tuigans. The mentor who'd turned traitor against my old gang. Well, that monk wanted his ashes disposed of in a volcano. I'd been to the Grey Peaks once, years ago, and figured that would be a good place to dispose of the monk's remains. So my old mentor used a teleportation scroll to bring me here, so I could take care of the monk's ashes... Then he teleported back without me.
"Oh, I forgot to mention: I'd decided to take on these robes after that monk died." Indeed, after conquering Two Stars, the Tuigans had driven thousands of refugees west. Seeing so much suffering had stifled Samuel's appetite for any more yakuza work and inspired him to put on the dead monk's robes. At the time, Samuel had thought to somehow carry on in the monk's stead. Now though, the notion seemed mad and vain; a bad joke.
"So my mentor was like, 'Hey good. Stick with this whole monk thing. Don't go back east, you'll just fall in with the gang again, now that the monk is gone.' So he ditched me here to go back and fight the Tuigans. And I've been trying to get back to Thesk ever since. There. That's the long version."

The woman took a deep breath, screwing the stopper back onto her canteen as she cleared her throat. "Think he might have had a point..?" She hooked the canteen onto her belt, then leaned forward with both hands.

Samuel shrugged. "Either way, it's not his call to make. He's gotten mighty sanctimonious since he turned traitor, preaches left and right."

"Clearly it was, 'cause here you are." She stared for a moment. "In all your story everything seemed to loop around to how great your mentor was being the reason you followed him. It sounds like you've brushed over one of the important reasons you thought he was great... that it doesn't matter who you're surrounded by, nationalities, allegiances... what matters is doing the right thing, in the moment."

"Oh, you mean the monk?" Surely she didn't mean his ex-mentor.

"Both, honestly. Just because someone has done wrong, or done wrong by you, doesn't change that they can be right."

"My old mentor, from the gang... he's an overblown windbag. That monk was really something, though." Samuel thought for a moment. "I don't know. I'm not trying to kill my old mentor anymore, at least."

"You shouldn't be, justice is better done by an impartial observer." The woman stood up. "That monk though, what would he be doing if he was stranded out here, war carrying on unknown in the east? Whatever it is..." She carried on without allowing him to answer, "I don't think it would be wallowing in self pity with a drunk has-been."

Samuel grunted and lapsed into silence.

"Take care of yourself kid." The woman pushed her hands into her pockets and walked off, leaving Samuel to stare thoughtfully into the fire.

Eleint 8, 1360 DR - Cimbar

Layla and Samuel appeared in a flash of light, having teleported in from the Friendly Arm Inn on the Sword Coast. Samuel looked around and saw that they stood in a Chessentan estate.

"Which way from here?" Samuel asked. After months of searching for someone who could teleport him closer to Thesk, he was finally back in eastern Faerun. He was eager to board a ship to Thesk as soon as possible.

"You'll want to try the temple of Waukeen. Likely enough to find merchant traders there with ships who might take you on," Layla said.

A few servants milled about the estate, and Samuel heard a few surprised exclamations in their native tongue. Then the servants noticed Layla and grumbled.

"They know you?" Samuel asked Layla.

"Yes, my Aunt keeps the estate but it belongs to my Father."

"Ah..." Samuel imagined how different Layla's upbringing must have been to his own. He thought about asking what her life had been like, but he simply had no time.

He took the jade amulet of Kwan Ying hanging from his neck and offered it to Layla. "I've been searching for months for someone to take me east. Please accept this small token of my gratitude."

Layla glanced at the amulet and smiled. "Are you sure? I would demand no payment and this thing seems precious?"

"It is, but so is returning to my homeland to help fight off the Tuigans," Samuel replied. "And my faith in Kwan Ying doesn't depend on baubles and trinkets."

Layla accepted the amulet. "Then I shall keep custody of it untill you or one of your kin come to collect it."

Samuel looked around the estate. A small but relativly well appointed affair of white marble and dark woods. Smoke from a nearby kitchen fire lingered by the kitchens. Eventually a Chessentan woman, past middle age, came bustling out to greet the pair. Layla spoke a flurry of Chessentan and indicated Samuel as a guest. Perhaps she mentioned his intentions to fight the Tuigans, because the matronly woman smiled at Samuel. The older woman said, "Welcome then to Chessenta Samuel, Layla tells me you'll be looking for a Ship. You're welcome to stay until you can find one suitable."

Samuel looked at Layla, then back at the older woman. "I'm grateful for the offer. I'll admit that I am anxious to get moving, however. When I was taken to the Coast, the Tuigans were well on their way to conquering Thesk. I fear I'm already too late."

"Bothersome news that, good job those barbarians don't like ships or washing from what I hear. Might try asking around at the University if you want the goings on across the sea. No doubt they'll be debating what it all means for the price of peaches next season or something equally non-sensical."

Layla gave the woman a look and cut in. "I would recommend asking around for rumors, might be someone at least who can teleport you closer too. Quicker than a ship, if a bit more expensive."

"That's a fine idea," said Samuel. "My thanks again, Layla. Which way to the docks from here? Or the temple of Waukeen."

Layla smiled. "Of course. Northeast for the docks, the temple is...." She paused and pointed vaguely east toward the town center.

Samuel nodded. Stepping back, he bowed to the two women.

""May fortune favor you, and your travels find you in good health and company," Layla said.

"I expect I might not return to the Sword Coast, depending on how things go. Please give Mathilde my regards." Samuel had recently adventured with the cheerful woman, and had been impressed with her mastery of mind magic.

"I'll make sure to do so, don't get yourself killed."

Samuel adjusted his pack and chuckled. "Not in the plan, but not up to me, either." He nodded and set off toward the docks in the northeast.

Eleint 9, 1360 DR - Cimbar

"What did you say?" Samuel gaped at the sailor.

"The Tuigans were beat in Thesk. Couple months ago now. Ain't no Tuigans to fight anymore."

Samuel stared dumbly at the sailor as he processed this information. Thesk had won. His home was no longer under attack. There was no need to valiantly follow his teacher's example of self-sacrifice; there wasn't even the opportunity to avenge his death anymore.

He looked down at the monk's robes he wore, robes that he still felt uneasy in. He looked around the docks of Cimbar, a city he'd never stepped foot in before yesterday.

What do I do now?