A Familiar Story - 2. The Friendly Arm Inn

“You must choose your company wisely.”

You ran that night and didn’t see what happened. I saw. I saw Gorion’s last stand, the fight he put up to keep you alive. His opponents were outmatched, but he was outnumbered, and though he slay many, even the strongest master may fall in the end.

Aerin’s eyes opened groggily, his body cold from a night under the stars. He needed a blanket or a bedroll, and briefly, the half-elf wondered why Winthrop had not offered him one.

Then the previous night came back in full force. An armed man and a group of thugs and ogres facing them down, demanding Gorion give up his ward. Gorion telling Aerin to run and not to look back. There had been a burst of magical energy not long after, knocking Aerin out as he ran.

The mage felt the warmth of Gaius under his arm, the dragon guarding his master as best he could against the cold of the night. Gorion was not there, and in his heart, Aerin knew Gorion would never be there again. He was twice an orphan now.

Yet he shed no tears. Gorion would not want his foster child wasting time to grieve his death. No, Aerin had things he needed to do.

Sitting up, the mage roused his familiar, before digging through his pack to find his spell book. He flipped through the pages of the book, examining the runes that made up his spells until he found the one he was searching for.

Aerin spent time studying, memorizing the signs and words of his most potent spell, a spray of colours that would knock any within it unconscious. The memorization would only last him a single casting, his mind no longer holding the spell once it was cast. Maybe someday he could learn the secret to casting that spell more often, but for now, one had to be enough.

A branch snapped suddenly, rousing dragon and mage. Aerin stood up, grasping his staff uncertainly as he peered into the bushes nearby. If those people from the night before had found him, he was dead, but he would at least put up a fight.

“Drat. Sneaking out here is a lot harder than in the keep…”

That voice. He knew that voice.

Imoen fell out of the bushes, catching herself before she could land.

“Heya Aerin,” she said uncertainly, looking up at the dragon sitting on the mage’s shoulder. “I thought you could use some company on the road.”

“Imoen, have you been following us all night?” Aerin asked, helping the human to her feet.

“Yes. I saw what happened. I’m so sorry about that Aerin. Gorion was a good man.”

“That he was,” Aerin sighed. “I will avenge his death.”

“Those dogs left his body to rot. It’s not far from here.”

“I’m not sure I can go back,” the half-elf said.

“I understand. But he may have things we can use… I’ll be back soon.”

Aerin watched the human run off into the distance, ducking around a rock he had almost hit himself the night before.

“This is a new world for you Aerin. People are going to die around you and you might have to kill a few of them yourself,” Gaius said gently, wrapping his body across Aerin’s shoulders.

“Is it wrong to want to keep my innocence?”

“When it gets people killed, yes,” Gaius said bluntly, making Aerin wince. “Gorion is dead. What innocence you had died with him.”

“I have not killed anyone,” Aerin protested.

“But you will. If someone was going to kill Imoen, wouldn’t you protect her?”

“I’ll send her home. She has no business travelling with me.”

“What about me? Would you kill to save my life Aerin?”

The half-elf remained silent as Imoen hurried back toward them, smoke rising from behind the rock.

“I burned his body. It seemed the least I could do. There was a note and a belt on him.”

The human handed the items to the mage. Aerin felt the thrum of magic on the belt, maybe vestiges of Gorion’s power, or maybe something more. If he had memorised his identify spell he would have cast it, but as it was, the belt seemed safe enough. He had seen Gorion wear it on numerous occasions.

“Where are we heading Aerin?” Imoen asked, breaking his concentration.

“You are heading home,” the mage said. “Those people are after me, and me alone. I will not be responsible for you getting hurt.”

He buckled the belt around his waist, instantly feeling the chill of the morning fade. A small smile crossed his face as he realised how Gorion had been able to stand barefoot on the frozen sea showing Aerin how to hold his concentration while casting.

“You cheat,” he said quietly.

“Just like that? You’re sending me away?” Imoen exclaimed.

“For your safety.”

“But we’re… we’re friends… I guess I’ll wait for you to need me. Because you will, trust me.”

The human huffed in anger, storming away.

“You should have let her stay,” Gaius said. “A thief at our side would be a good addition to our party.”

“She’s a thief?”

“Haven’t you noticed things tend to go missing around her? And I’ve seen her at the archery butts more than once. She is a good shot with that bow of hers.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that I refuse to put her in danger.”

“Then we ourselves will be in more danger. But there is no point in arguing about this if your mind is made up. Let us be on our way.”

They found a road easily, Gaius flying ahead of Aerin to scout. Before long, the two came upon a pair of travellers. An armoured halfling stood against a road marker, a human dressed in robes beside him.

“Greetings,” Aerin said as he approached.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than to bother us?” the halfling snapped.

“Hold your tongue Montaran,” the human said sharply. “This mage has seen trouble this night. Mayhaps he needs some aid?”

Gaius seemed rather agitated by the two, though he would not say why, not in front of the two.

“Any aid you could give would be most welcome,” Aerin said.

“Then here, a potion for you. Nothing to fear from a simple potion and I’ll not even hold you in debt, though your heart says different,” the human grinned, handing a vial of blue liquid to Aerin.

“Just like all good folk,” the halfling sneered.

“Perhaps as payment, you could accompany us to Nashkel? They are having some troubles and our acquaintances are rather concerned about the recent iron shortages. Specifically, who is to blame for the shortages. I believe you would be most helpful.”

“Your conscience be your guide,” Montaron said.

Aerin looked over at Gaius, who looked troubled by the whole arrangement. In his heart, Aerin felt that these were bad people, yet if he went with them, he had a chance to do good for the world.

“I was told to head to the Friendly Arm Inn, but after that, I would be glad to go with you,” he said, Gaius letting out a strained squawk at the words.

“Wonderful! We can accompany you and then you can accompany us! Onward intrepid adventurers!” the human said.

“Ugh, would you cease your incessant prattling?” Montaron muttered.

“I don’t believe I caught your name,” Aerin said to the human as they started to walk.

“Of course, Xzar, wizard extraordinaire at your service.”

“Well met Xzar. I am Aerin, and my companion is Gaius.”

The dragon set down on the half-elf’s shoulders, glaring at their new companions.

“Rather unfriendly companion, isn’t he?” Xzar grinned.

“To some. I find him a true friend,” Aerin replied.

They followed the road in silence, each watching out for trouble. Gaius let out a warning growl eight hours into their walk.

A wizened old man hurried toward the group, dressed in red robes. Aerin gripped his staff uncertainly at the man who gave off the appearance of another wizard.

“Ho there wanderers. Mayhaps you could indulge an old man. It’s been a while since I have had the pleasure of another’s company. These days it seems travelling is the domain of either the desperate or the deranged. Might I ask which you are?”

“I am rather desperate sir. Do you know the way to the Friendly Arm Inn?” Aerin asked.

“That I do,” the man smiled. ”It lies but a short way down the road north. I have no doubt thy friends will be awaiting you there.”

“We never said we were meeting friends there,” Montaron frowned.

“Oh forgive me sir, I merely assumed. It appears I have said too much and taken too much of thy time. I shall take my leave with but a parting word. Be careful of the company thee keeps in these dark times.”

The man strolled away, whistling a jaunty tune.

“That man was rather odd,” Xzar said.

“He seemed friendly,” Aerin shrugged as they continued their walk.

“Friendly or not, it seems we will be walking some distance and we have already walked far this day,” Montaron said. “Perhaps we should rest before continuing our journey.”

“Perhaps so,” Aerin agreed, stifling a yawn. “I will take first watch.”

“Very well,” Xzar said. “I will take the second watch.”

They found a spot near another marker in the road and set up camp, Aerin sending Gaius out to scout a bit while he sat back and finally read the note Gorion had taken with him.

“My friend Gorion,

Please forgive the abruptness with which I now write, but time is short and there is much to be done. What we have long feared may soon come to pass, though not in the manner foretold, and certainly not in the proper time frame. As we both know, forecasting these events has proved increasingly difficult, leaving little option other than a leap of faith. We have done what we can for those in thy care, but the time nears when we must step back and let matters take what course they will. We have, perhaps, been a touch too sheltering to this point.

“Despite my desire to remain neutral in this matter, I could not, in good conscience, let events proceed without some measure of warning. The other side will move very soon, and I urge thee to leave Candlekeep this very night, if possible. The darkness may seem equally threatening, but a moving target is much harder to hit, regardless of how sparse the cover. A fighting chance is all that can be asked for at this point.

“Should anything go awry, do not hesitate to seek aid from travellers along the way. I do not need to remind thee that it is a dangerous land, even without our current concerns, and a party is stronger than individuals in all respects. Should assistance be required, I understand that Jaheira and Khalid are currently at the Friendly Arm Inn. They know little of what has passed, but they are thy friends and will no doubt help however they can.

“Luck be with us all.

“I’m getting too old for this.

“E”

An hour into his watch, Gaius approached Aerin, a pair of scrolls in his claws.

“Look at these,” he hissed quietly.

Unrolling one of the scrolls, Aerin felt his blood turn to ice. The scroll held the details for a Chill Touch spell, dark magic that would drain the life from a creature.

“They’re necromancers…” the half-elf breathed.

It didn’t mean they were evil he reasoned. Gorion had always told him it was the mage who made the magic, and not all who used dark magic used it for evil.

“These two, they are evil. I can feel it,” Gaius insisted.

“Even if you are right, what are we supposed to do, abandon them in the night?”

“That is exactly what we should do!”

Aerin sighed.

“Very well. And we will take these scrolls with us so no harm can be done with them.”

“Agreed.”

Aerin packed his things swiftly, collecting his staff. He hurried out of the camp, using the dim light of the moon to make his way down the road.

It took another hour before Aerin turned north at a crossroad and another eight before he saw the castle-like inn rising before him. Mindful of Gaius yawning on his shoulders, the half-elf sped up, eager to reach the inn and finally rest for the night.

Not that there was much night left. The first rays of sunlight were climbing over the inn, the gate to the castle lowering to greet the morning. Despite Gaius’ warning about his former companions, Aerin found himself wondering if they were safe. He had no doubt they would track him to the inn, to discuss the theft of their scrolls. But Aerin did not intend to give the scrolls back to them. That very day he would scribe the runes into his spellbook and take the spells for his own, to be used only in his most desperate moments.

Passing through the gates of the inn, Aerin directed his weary feet toward the inn proper, stopping as he noticed a cloaked man on the steps to the inn. The encounter with the assassin in Camdlekeep sprang to his mind; the man wore similar clothing. Aerin still had his Colour Spray and so he continued up the steps, hoping the man would allow him to pass peacefully.

The man smiled as he approached.

“Hi friend. I haven’t seen you here before. By chance, do you come from Candlekeep to the west?”

Warning bells rang in Aerin’s head, his grip tightening on his staff. Gaius climbed down his back, magic dripping from the fairy dragon.

“No, I can’t say I’ve ever been there,” the mage said cautiously.

“Are you sure? You look an awful lot like someone I’m supposed to meet from there,” the man said. “Here, let me see…”

The man approached and Gaius let loose his spell. Four fairy dragons flew at the man and a dagger flashed, cutting through one of the dragons. The man shimmered, four copies of him appearing in front of Aerin in a replica of Gaius’ spell and Aerin unleashed his own spell.

A spray of multicoloured flashing lights spread around his enemey, the other mage collapsing to the ground, unconscious. Aerin brought his staff down in a rage. Gaius had been attacked. He would not risk his familiar.

The mage’s skull cracked under the force of Aerin’s blow. Aerin kept bringing his staff down until a strong hand caught his arm. Whirling, Aerin came face to face with a guard.

“Hold sir! What is the meaning of this senseless assault?”

“He attacked me and my familiar,” Aerin panted, catching his breath. “I fought to defend myself, and would not risk him injuring me.”

His eye caught the blood staining his staff and suddenly Aerin felt nauseous.

“What reason do you have for being here?”

“I am to meet some friends at the inn.”

The world started spinning around him and Gaius landed on Aerin’s neck, curling around it for support. Aerin’s hand touched the dragon, instilling a touch of comfort in the half-elf.

“You are well within your right to defend yourself. And as the victor of such a duel, you have the right to the loser’s gear,” the guard offered, staring down at the body.

“I don’t-”

“Take it,” Gaius whispered. “It is payment for our lives.”

Aerin looked down at the bloody mess that was his foe, bile rising. He darted toward a wall, Gaius hissing as vomit sprayed the wall.

“What would Gorion say if he saw me now?” the mage despaired, spitting the remnants of vomit from his mouth.

“He would thank you for not letting his sacrifice be in vain,” Gaius said. “Now go back and claim your spoils.”

Aerin wiped his mouth, spitting one last time, before returning to the corpse.

“Don’t think about the fact that he is dead,” he whispered, kneeling.

His hands searched through the man’s robe, finding a bag of gold that he added to his own stockpile. Four scrolls were hidden in the man’s inner robes, three bearing the hum of magic. Aerin set them among his scrolls, deciding to look at them in his own time. Other than the man’s staff, nothing else remained.

“I am sorry you had to deal with such trauma at our inn,” the guard said. “Why don’t you head inside now? I promise we will have this man dealt with by the time you leave.”

Aerin nodded, turning to enter the inn. He hurried on his way, eager to escape the reminder of what he had done.

It was a difficult action, the first time you killed. You were not alone in that; many of our companions had issues with taking lives. But it was a necessity considering how many people were chasing us. In one of the scrolls, you found details of a bounty. 200 gold for your head. It shook you to the core. What had you ever done to incur such a bounty?

We had no choice but to press on, however, approaching the innkeeper to lighten our loads. You finally got a bedroll and a journal to document our journey, and a simple room in which to spend the day and the night. Perhaps it was not the wisest idea, but you were too weary to continue.

The innkeeper, a dwarf by the name of Bently, added to the tale of iron woe in the region and you determined to do what you could to lessen the troubles in the region. It was what Gorion would have wanted.

Before you bedded down, you spent time scribing one of the necromancer’s spells into your book. You were determined never to use it, but the act of copying the spell caused the ink on the scroll to fade. Xzar would never get his spell back, not without your death. I was proud of you at that moment. On that day, you took your first steps toward becoming your own person.