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    Yeoldebard
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction that combine worlds created by the original content owner with names, places, characters, events, and incidents that are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, companies, events or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Stories in this Fandom are works of fan fiction. Any names or characters, businesses or places, events or incidents, are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Recognized characters, events, incidents belong to Ed Greeenwood and Wizards of the Coast /  Hasbro <br>

A Familiar Story - 8. Chicken Feed


"Who can judge the value of a life? Not even the gods may know such a value of a mere mortal."

It took even longer to escape the canyons than it took to get in. Khalid led us out, but you were not used to the climbing necessary, and several times Jaheira had to help you up. We rested again just out of the canyons, Jaheira seeing to Khalid’s wounds.

The rest of our journey was completed hastily, everyone eager to get back to Beregost. It was decided we would wait a while before setting out again. Something about almost dying made us hesitant to risk our lives again. But something would set us off adventuring again. Jaheira assured us of that.

 

Aerin stood before the mage tower in High Hedge, Melicamp in his arms and Gaius on his neck. He knocked on the door to the tower, Melicamp tensing in his hands.

A man opened the door, scowling at the sight of Aerin with two animals. Jaheira and Khalid were back in Beregost, resting from the last fight.

“I do not know why you are here, but I suggest you leave if you do not wish to be made into a squirrel.”

Aerin gulped. He had seen many squirrels in his travels here, too many to not pay heed to the mage’s warnings.

“Actually, I have a talking chicken here. I was hoping you could help me-”

“Chickens don’t talk. It must be polymorphed,” the mage snapped.

“I know that. She says she is your apprentice-”

“I have no apprentice and never have. The chicken in your hands, for that is an apt form for her, has stolen from me.”

“You wouldn’t share your knowledge with me!”

Aerin let Melicamp drop from his hands as the hen confronted the wizard.

“You speak of so much yet show so little! I only wished to learn a fraction of the power you possess!”

“It has taken me over fifty years to gain the power I have, and the will not to use it! You are but a baby clamouring for treats. Frankly I am surprised you changed into such an old chicken. How did you manage that anyway? You were barely able to cast a simple cantrip when last I saw you!”

“I grew in power since then, and I borrowed some items to speed the process.”

The chicken sounded rather pleased with herself at her feat. Aerin was not so impressed. He could understand why the mage had not wanted to take Melicamp on as an apprentice.

“Well, it’s obvious you can steal my tools, but you can never steal the understanding that goes with them. Hold a moment while I fetch a dispel. Can’t very well get my property back when it’s polymor- Wait, I did not have an item that can create this enchantment. Melicamp, tell me truth. What did you take?”

“Nothing too valuable. Just some components, a pair of beat-up bracers, a scroll-”

“You took the bracers from my trapped safe?! Well, I hope you learn to enjoy the taste of feed, for you will be stuck in that form for a very long time,” the mage scowled.

A distressed cluck came from the chicken.

“You can’t leave me like this!” she cried.

“It’s not a matter of whether I wish to help. I do not have the power to change you back,” the mage said.

“Sir, forgive me for asking, but what kind of item could cause such a problem for even you to handle?” Aerin asked.

“A Netheril artifact, the details of which I do not wish to go into. Suffice it to say I have no idea what the intended purpose was.”

Aerin understood suddenly. This mage used to be an adventurer, and the item Melicamp had taken was likely cursed.

“Is there any way for me to help?” he asked.

“It will be dangerous, but I will need a skull from an undead creature. Bring it here and I will prepare a ritual that will hopefully reincarnate this foolish girl.”

“Reincarnate? But that spell requires the recipient be dead!” Melicamp clucked.

“That is what the skull is for you simpleton. Of course, this spell might end up killing the both of us, but such is life.”

“I will go collect a skull,” Aerin said. “I hope you don’t mind if I leave Melicamp here.”

“Go, go. She will be fine so long as she stays out from underfoot,” the mage waved off.

 

It did not take long for Aerin to find a skeleton wandering around. He thought the death of Bassilus would have finished the skeletons all off, but it seemed more than a few had survived.

A stone to the throat of the creature knocked the skull off, Aerin rushing to grab the skull before it could decompose. He wasn’t sure about the magic that held the construct together, but his best guess was that if he could get his hands on the skull, it would feed on his energy to stay in one piece.

He rushed to get the skull back to the mage’s tower.

The mage took the skull from Aerin, pointing Melicamp into a chalk circle. He set the skull in the circle with the chicken, backing into his own circle. Chanting quietly, the mage’s hands moved, twisting in arcane gestures.

The chicken’s body morphed, growing until skin appeared over the skull. A woman’s body grew from the skull, the chicken getting absorbed into the woman.

The spell completed and the woman slumped over, unmoving. The mage sighed.

“And that, as they say, is that. It would appear our friend did not survive the casting. Such are the ways of magic, unpredictable at the best of times.”

He ushered Aerin from the tower, the young mage shook by the experience.

“I wish you intelligence in your travels, as luck so often runs out.”

The door was closed behind him, leaving Aerin and Gaius in the mid-afternoon heat. The two made their way back to town, ten hours of their day gone. Aerin felt like a failure.

“We got her back, and we got her body back. If her soul was not strong enough to stay in the body, that isn’t our fault,” Gaius said, nibbling on Aerin’s left ear.

“Maybe it wasn’t our fault. That doesn’t make this any easier,” Aerin growled.

“Do you want to go back to the temple?” Gaius suggested. “It seemed to help you last time.”

Aerin nodded.

“We’ll get the holy symbol and deliver it while we are there.”

 

The half-elf knelt before another two candles, head bowed in quiet contemplation. The priests of Lathander seemed happy to have the necromancer’s holy symbol and had immediately set about filling a chest of gold for Aerin. But he refused to touch the money. It felt too much like blood money. Gauis convinced him to have the chest taken to Jaheira at the inn, an idea that still didn’t feel right to Aerin. But Jaheira and Khalid had just as much right to the gold as he did.

“What’s becoming of me?” he asked his familiar quietly. “Everywhere I go people die.”

“Occupational hazard? We are adventurers now,” Gaius said.

Adventurers. How often had Aerin read their stories, lived their lives through books, safely distant from the events they faced? And now he found himself as one, unwillingly. But they couldn’t just stop. Not until the men chasing him were dealt with.

Standing, the half-elf extinguished the candles, returning them to the young priest he had met days before.

“I think it’s time to find the bastards hunting us,” Aerin said as they left the church.

 

You said it like it was a simple thing. But we both knew it wouldn’t be. We would get moving again, Jaheira and Khalid taking us south to Nashkel. Hopefully there we could find clues to aid us in our search.

I took a short break from the game, but I am back at it again. Let me know if I should continue the side missions I have been doing or if you would like to read more of the main quest.
Copyright © 1977-2022 Ed Greenwood, Wizards of the Coast; All Rights Reserved; Copyright © 2019 Yeoldebard; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction that combine worlds created by the original content owner with names, places, characters, events, and incidents that are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, companies, events or locales are entirely coincidental.
Authors are responsible for properly crediting Original Content creator for their creative works.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Stories in this Fandom are works of fan fiction. Any names or characters, businesses or places, events or incidents, are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Recognized characters, events, incidents belong to Ed Greeenwood and Wizards of the Coast /  Hasbro <br>
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I find the side missions interesting.

This chapter teaches a valuable life lesson. You don't take short cuts to take the place of knowledge and skill.

 

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I love reading the side missions, they are really interesting. We learnt a valuable lesson in this chapter, short cuts can’t replace knowledge and skill.

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Knowledge for the sake of power is often misused and corrupted.  In the learning there is a process and often that is needed to truly understand what the knowledge is and how to use it properly.

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