A Familiar Story - 9. The Monk

“The light of Selune bless you in these times.”

It took two days to reach Nashkel, and we were harried the entire way by goblins. All who neared us were slain by our fierce protectors, though we realized no matter how fierce, Jaheira and Khalid were not invulnerable. We pushed on still, despite our fresh injuries, Jaheira providing what comfort she could through her spells. It gave you pause, wondering what your life would have been like if you had been granted the power to heal as she had. But there was no time to spare for what-ifs, and we continued our journey until we finally reached the city of Naskel.

All around him Aerin saw death and suffering. The ills of this small city were surely great, and he wanted nothing more than to cure them.

A group of Amnian soldiers paraded through the streets, an effective deterrent to any would-be troublemakers. Aerin found himself wanting to hide from their presence, though to his knowledge, he had done nothing wrong.

A small group of people were gathered near the stream that ran through town, watching a bald human intently.

“See? Such feats are easy to achieve through the focus of energies from Selune’s light.”

Aerin approached the man curiously, Khalid and Jaheira following a little more cautiously. A beam of bright light was shining from the monk’s open hand, aimed at the waters of the stream, much to the onlookers’ amazement. Aerin had heard of such effects, different from that of a typical light spell. This man had to be a monk of Selune.

“Heh, he’s a joke,” a man laughed suddenly. “He must have escaped from the circus! That light is just a trick.”

The monk frowned momentarily before his face returned to that serene expression of a man content in the world.

“I can assure you I am no charlatan-”

“Oh no, you’re one of them learned men, right? A great and powerful mage.”

“I do not wish to argue; I am merely here to demonstrate-”

A bit of mud struck the monk, sliding off his simple robe, much to the aggressor’s amusement.

Shaking his head, Aerin stepped forward, Gaius making his presence known as the mage moved.

“I can appreciate a man with conviction,” the mage said with a small smile.

The crowd backed away from Aerin, thinning out slowly as they noticed his spellbook.

“Thank you,” the monk said. “My name is Rasaad.”

“I am Aerin, and this is Gaius,” Aerin said, motioning toward the fairy dragon that was making lazy loops through the air around them. “My friends are Jaheira and Khalid.”

“Ah, a party of adventurers. Off to do the world some good?” Rasaad inquired.

“As much as we can,” Aerin smiled. “Would you like to join us?”

“I would like that very much. It can be hard to change the world, for good or ill, if you are on your own,” Rasaad replied.

Aerin turned toward Jaheira and Khalid.

“It is good to have you joining us,” Jaheira said before Aerin could speak. “I look forward to getting to know you. Perhaps over a few mugs of ale?”

Rasaad nodded, motioning toward a building with the sign of an inn on it.

“After you,” he said politely.

They weren’t more than a few steps into the inn before the group was approached by a leering woman.

“Well, fancy that. Here I was expecting a hunt and you just stroll in here bold as day. I’m not one to argue with easy coin though. May the Lord of Shadow guide you swiftly to your death.”

“Wait!” Aerin shouted as his companions stepped in front of him. “Please! I do not wish any more bloodshed over me!”

“Shame,” the cleric grinned, raising her holy symbol to the ceiling.

Aerin’s feet grew heavy suddenly, pinned to the ground through the woman’s magic. His hands were free, however, and he began casting his colour spray spell, still not wanting to kill this assassin.

Rasaad suddenly flew at the woman, his feet connecting with her head. With a sickening crunch, the cleric dropped, dead.

The spell persisted, even as Aerin cut off his own. Frowning, the mage was forced to watch as Rasaad and Khalid began looting the cleric, claiming right to the spoils.

His feet were freed nearly a minute later, and the half-elf stepped away from the scene, sitting heavily at a nearby table. Many of the patrons simply turned back to their drinks, leading Aerin to believe fights were not that uncommon here.

Khalid approached the mage slowly, holding out a scroll.

“Y-you may want to-to look at th-this,” he said.

Aerin unrolled the paper, finding a simple drawing that clearly depicted himself.

“A bounty is on the head of Aerin, the foster son of Gorion. Those returning with proof of his death shall receive no less than six hundred eighty gold coins,” he read silently.

“It is clear there is a bounty on your head,” Jaheira said, sitting beside the half-elf. “This is the second person we have met who has hinted at such. I would like to know how much.”

Gaius landed heavily on the table, glaring at the druid.

“Calm yourself Gaius. It is merely to gauge the threat to the party. It would do us no good to ignore a possible bounty when it could be drawing dozens of hunters down on us. What if they don’t come alone?” Jaheira said.

“Six hundred,” Aerin said quietly.

“Huh. Not bad,” the druid grinned. “Gorion always said you were special.”

Rasaad joined the group as a pair of soldiers carried the corpse out of the inn. He set a metal helmet on the table, Aerin startling at the faint touch of magic coming from it.

“I can tell you what that helmet is,” he offered.

“If it will help us avoid an incident like at Beregost, please do,” Jaheira said.

Aerin smiled slightly at the memory, before turning back to the helmet. Opening his spellbook, the mage quietly chanted the words to an Identify spell, closing his eyes as a wave of understanding washed through him.

“It’s safe,” he said. “A helm of Infravision, nothing more.”

“You are all half-elves, correct?” Rasaad mentioned. “I cannot wear a helm, as it would affect my combat prowess. Perhaps we should see how much this helm can fetch us?”

“Agreed,” Jaheira said.

It didn’t take long for Rasaad to make himself at home in the group. Soon he and Jaheira were debating the tenets of different gods. Khalid broke off from the group to sell the spoils from the past few days, Aerin buying a room to head to bed early.

The mage sat crosslegged on the straw mattress, pulling several scrolls from his bag. All were spoils from the goblins on the road, and now that he had the time, he was going to add them to his spellbook.

He stayed up late into the night, copying spells by candlelight until all but one were in his book. The last spell was necromantic in nature, and Aerin was uncomfortable with adding it to his book. He already had two other dark spells in his book, but they were added to deprive others of their influence. Adding this spell to his book would be different.

Making a note to question Jaheira or Rasaad about the spell in the morning, Aerin blew out the candle, laying down in his bed. Gaius curled up on the mage’s chest, his breath tickling Aerin’s chin.

“I wish Gorion had told me why people are attacking me,” Aerin sighed quietly.

“For your own curiosity?”

“So that I might feel better about defending myself,” Aerin replied sharply. “I still do not want their blood on my hands, but it would be better to know why they would kill me, other than money. Who hates me enough to put such a bounty on my head?”

“No one from Candlekeep, certainly. You may have played some tricks in your youth, but I am certain none would hold those against you. Not enough to murder Gorion over,” Gaius said. “Perhaps it is someone with knowledge of your parents, though why they would go after you is beyond me. You know nothing of your parents, and you certainly have exhibited no strange abilities that would imply your parents passed something to you.”

Aerin sighed quietly, gently petting Gaius.

“We need to figure this out. I want to know who is trying to kill us and I want them to stop.”

“Maybe if we take out enough hunters, whoever is behind this will come after us themself.”

“What, and kill us like they killed Gorion? And how many people would we have to kill for that to happen? Why would you suggest that?” Aerin said angrily.

“It was just a thought,” Gaius said, letting a hint of his breath wash over his mage.

Aerin calmed almost instantly, relaxing into the mattress.

“I just… I don’t know,” he said quietly. “I don’t want to do this anymore. But talking to these hunters, it doesn’t help at all. I doubt they know why I’m supposed to die. They’re just tools to be used, discarded. It’s just a job for them.”

“We do have some new spells. Maybe some of them will help us uncover what is after us,” Gaius said with a yawn.

“Maybe. I’ll have to look at them again in the morning,” Aerin muttered.

Morning would come swiftly, and with it a fresher look on our situation. We discussed the new spells with Jaheira, who offered only that it was the way a spell was used that made it evil. It was similar to what Gorion always told us.

Not that it mattered. Upon closer inspection, you realized the runes making the necromantic spell were identical to one we had taken from Xzar. Still, we kept the scroll. If we needed an extra combat spell, we would use it. Jaheira didn’t change our outlook, but she did open our minds to new ways of thinking.