Disclaimer:
Hello again! I'm back with the ninth part of NNT. First of all, (sigh! not again...) as mentioned before, this story is totally fictional and has no purpose whatsoever to imply that any member of the BSB is gay. Secondly, also as mentioned before, the setting of this story is 100% based on TSR, Inc. Novels, the Forgotten Realms. The story is written purely out of fun and leisure and I have no intention of publishing it anywhere or whatever. Hmm... what else? Oh yeah, this story also contain homosexual elements, so if you got a problem with it, hmm... too bad. Who asked you to come here anyway? However, if you are looking for some hot monkey sex scenes, sorry dudes, you'll be disappointed. I'm just not good in writing about that stuff :P Let just keeps the detailed sex stuff behind closed doors. But if you like stories that goes nice and slow and have more to offer than just sex, oh well, you might like this one (I hope).
Well! Now that is gone out of da way, lets get on with the story. Hope you enjoy it. If ya got comments, objections, suggestions, tips, death threats, boos, tomatoes or cabbages to throw or whatever, just write to me at zan@oceanfree.net
Anyway, I would like to thank everyone who e-mailed me of your comments and such. It's nice to know that you've enjoyed it. I live to serve (Hah!). All in all, thanks guys. I intend to make this story as long as I can. But ideas do tend to run out quickly. I can always think up of new ideas (if I can get my lazy mind going long enough. It really needs a kick or two at time but it has always serve me well... hmm... well, most of the time). But if you have any inputs, ideas or suggestions, feel free to drop me a note anytime you want, be it through e-mails, letters, pigeons, message in a bottle, Morse codes, talking drums, whatever.
Right! Enough mindless chatters and on with the show!
Drew and Andy
In the Evermoor, at the fringe of the High Forest...
"The trick of finding your way back out of deep woods, look ye," said Ken to Keres as the group made their way through the High Forest, "is to glance back behind yerself often on the way in. Then ye know what to look for."
"What if you must be leaving by a different way?" Delg asked sourly, almost challengingly.
Ken froze and then turned and blinked at the dwarf. His face looked as if he had just been spoken to by a stone, or he'd just seen a bird smoking a pipe. He blinked again as said mildly,
"Well, then you ask the elf who guided you in to show you the way out, of course".
Kevin and Ken chuckled merrily at the dwarf's puzzled expression as they skipped and slid through the brushes and bushes with ease. For rangers, forest is like a home to them and naturally they wouldn't have any trouble in making their way through one. The same couldn't be said to a dwarf though. Dwarves prefer the mountains and underground caverns and tunnels. They are content to leave forest travels to the elves.
Delg snorted more than once as they pushed themselves through the woods. Keres had urged them up in the chill dawn. Since the rangers know more about the forest than the rest, Ken and Kevin led them in a steady tramp through the trees. The journey proved agonizing to all of them; not only for the fact it is a very thick forest, but also from the fact that their limbs had stiffened overnight as they have to camp in a hidden copse in order to hide from any prowling beasts or trolls that infested the High Moor. The copse was cramped but it has to do.
The Company of the Red Wolves has been traveling through the High Forest for about a day now. According to Ken, the High Forest is the largest forest in the North, and it has remains untouched by woodcutter's blade for centuries. It is the home of powerful druids, dryads, half-elves, elves and other beings that prefer living within in forests. Treants, strange but peaceful tree-like creatures, dominates the northern quarter, the area also known as the Woods of Turlang. Drow and orcs are said to dwell in the underground caverns deep beneath the forest. Griffons and other exotic bird-like creatures made their nests in the high mountains at the center of the forest, which are known as the Star Mountains. A series of escarpments and gorges created by the flow of the Unicorn Run, called the Sisters, lies to the south of the Star Mountains.
Historically, the High Forest was part of the old elven kingdom of Eaerlann, but still, the great stretches of it have never seen a ruler of any race. The woods are also regarded as magical, and strange magical weathers are relatively common within their border - blood-red snow, boiling rain and explosive hailstone being not an unknown occurrence. It is said that the Dire Wood, an enchanted section of the forest that once housed the ruined fortress of Karse, is responsible for these strange weather.
For Kevin and Ken, the travel is effortless. The two rangers slipped through the thorn-filled brambles and bushes with ease as if they are walking within their own backyard at home. At places where traveling is hard, the rangers slipped up the trees and flipped easily from one branch to another, laughing merrily as they enjoy the majesty of nature.
The rest of the companions however, hiked through the forest sourly, with the exception of Alvin who's pranks and tricks arise more and more frequent, up to the point where Lamelle actually lost her temper and threatened to change him into a toad for the rest of the journey. Garth and Keres wore disappointed faces when the sorceress didn't carry out her threat. Delg however is busy dealing with his own predicament to notice anything else. The stocky dwarf cursed, grumbled and swore vilely as he got himself entangled within the brushes, much to everyone's secret amusement. His mood got even worst when his long, ground-reaching beard - the pride of all dwarves - got entangled too.
Ken kept them going moving along with a steady stream of jests and forest-lore - and one look at Keres's bored expression, one can certainly see than not everyone is interested. Alvin, amused at the predicament everyone is having, continually deliver snide remarks, jests and barbed digs directed at lazy dwarves and paladins, effete sorceress and a certain fat and drunken Tymoran priest. Kevin shook his head in silent amusement at some of Alvin's words.
Striding easily beside Kevin, Ken caught the young ranger's eyes and smiled. His eyes filled with love. Not everyone had a bad night last night. The half-elf has been most gentle as he was passionate and last night was one of the sweetest nights he had ever had in his life. If it was not for the magical barrier created by Lamelle around their tent - a barrier that prevents any sound from escaping into the surrounding - Kevin was certain that their love cries would have drawn every trolls and marauding beasts in the High Moor upon them, not to mention driving everyone else in the group crazy. Kevin smiled inwardly as he thought of the sorceress. Lamelle has sort of become a second mother to him in this world. The middle-age sorceress seems to go out of her way to ensure that he and Ken is happy.
Kevin has also made an interesting discovery last night. In the midst of their passion, Kevin unconsciously strokes the tip of Ken's pointed ear. To his amazement, the half-elf's passion multiplied ten-fold and it was all he could do to keep the half-elven ranger from getting absolutely wild beyond control. Apparently, according to Ken, it is a little known knowledge amongst human that elven and half-elven men can be elevated to the extreme height of passion by stroking the tips of their ears. Kevin laughed at that and determined to use this bit of discovery whenever he can just to make things more... interesting. Catching Ken's deep blue eyes again, Kevin chuckled softly and rubbed his ears. Ken blushed and then grinned. The breeze blew gently, throwing the golden locks of his hair back, revealing the slender and finely chiseled face; shouting out his elven heritage. His golden eyebrows are thick and his eyes glinted in the golden morning sunlight, adding further to his beauty.
Delg looked up upon hearing Kevin's silent chuckle.
"When a lad chuckles like that," the dwarf said gloomily, "it's usually the sound of his wits escaping out his mouth. He's sure to do something wildly stupid, all too soon."
Beside him, Lamelle turned, eyes flashing as she laughed, dispelling the gloomy atmosphere of the party.
"Why Delg! And what does a lass's chuckle warn you of?"
The dwarf's beard bristled as he clamped his mouth tightly shut and glared up at her. A deep red hue slowly crept up his neck and across his face as he walked along in the general laughter. Almost thirty paces passed underfoot before a deep rumbling announced the Delg had joined in.
Somewhere in the distance before the companions...
The figure stumbled wearily through the forest. The dress worn by the figure has long been shredded into tatters. Here and there, wounds and cuts decorated her skin; many of them didn't arise from mere scratches against the thorn-filled bushes. Her breathing is ragged and soft moan and sobs escaped the lips as she stumbled and fell to the ground. With strength born out of desperation - and terror - she pushed herself up and stumbled through the trees again, gripping the bloody oak staff in her hand in attempt to aid her balance.
Finally, weariness took over her and she leaned against a tree. Tears trickled down her cheek as she fought the feeling of helplessness that is slowly overwhelming her.
"Silvanus," she whispered desperately to the God of Wild Nature, "give me strength."
Then, almost immediately, as if her prayer is answered, she saw a group of people making their way through the woods. She squinted her eyes to look at the people. Leading the group were two young men wearing studded leather armors and bearing bows and arrows. A frustrated dwarf followed behind them, flailing helplessly as he is almost constantly overwhelmed by the bushes. Beside the dwarf, strode a middle-aged woman wearing the garb of a mage. Behind the duo is a serious young man wearing a well-polished armor and a shield bearing the holy symbol of Torm, the God of Duty, Bravery and Loyalty - a paladin. Bringing the rear are two bickering duo, a slim young man with a mischievous smile and a rogue face and a slender fat man bearing the silver disc of Tymora - a priest of Tymora. Adventurers!
With a dawning feeling of hope, purpose and determination, the figure stumbled towards the group. They cannot be evil because there is a paladin in the group. They can help her. They must! The desecration must be stop!
Back at the group...
"If I hear ye tell us we're lost, just once," Delg threatened, "you'll find yerself rapidly becoming more my size."
"Not so long now," Ken replied as he and Kevin pushed through the brushes and shrubbery.
"I never thought I could grow tired of the sight o' trees." Garth groaned from the rear. "Stop me vitals, but this clambering about is hard on old legs!"
"Oh, stop your yapping, leviathanbelly," said Alvin beside him. "The aching of your legs comes from bearing the heavy burden of you girth."
"Sharp words, young Alvin." Keres remarked. "One of these days, that sleek tongue of yours will lash at the wrong person and that might be the time when that tongue would be cut. How I am waiting for such moments to arise, by Torm."
"Threats, dire warnings and sinister words he heeded not," Alvin sang lightly, "but rushed in and took the crown for his own."
"If it's crowning ye're looking for," Garth grunted beside him, hefting his mace and leaning forward, "I could see me way clear to obliging ye."
"Why, darling." Alvin said, mocking the tones of a high court noblewoman, "I knew not the depths of your caring. My champion!" (Squeal of excitement, breathy delight) "My brave warrior! My..."
"... bringer of slumber," Garth grumbled, flinging Alvin's half-cloak over the thief's head and holding it down firmly to muffle his cries. "Silence now, or I'll just bounce my mace off this nasty lump here" - he patted Alvin's enshrouded head - "until it goes down."
Alvin continues to struggle and shouted beneath the cloak.
"You know, Lamelle, about that toad thing..." Keres began and then stopped as the struggling and shouting ceased almost immediately.
"Tell me the truth, do," said Delg as he lashes at the branches before him and holding his beard to avoid entanglement at the same time, "where, by Moradin, Father of All Dwarves, are we going... if you don't mind my asking?"
"I don't mind in the least, good Delg." Ken said grandly and grinned. Beside him, Kevin giggled softly. "I don't know."
Delg's head came up like that of a dog, bristling to strike at a suddenly seen enemy at the same time as Keres whipped his head around to stare at the half-elven ranger and Lamelle halted in her track.
"You don't know??!!" said Delg, Keres and Lamelle together. Kevin, unable to control himself now, burst into full-blown laughter.
"Well, you asked me to lead, so I did," Ken replied mildly. "I don't know where we are going save for the fact that we have to be at the Star Mountain yonder in the end. But it still takes weeks to get there at the rate we're going now. So, I just pick a path and rode on."
Delg growled a dwarven curse under his breath.
"But you said you know the ways around here." Said Keres.
"Ah! I said as a ranger, I would know my ways around a forest. That doesn't mean I know my ways around in this particular forest."
"We thought you know the way." Said Kevin. "We didn't say anything because you didn't say anything. We assumed this is the direction you want to go."
The growl of curses grew louder. With that, the dwarf pushed the rangers aside and strode into the woods, his battle-axe in his hands.
"Come on! We'll hack our way through!" the dwarf growled. Ken raised his hands to protest.
"Delg! Don't!..." the half-elven ranger was interrupted by Kevin.
"Guys! Someone's over there! Coming towards us!"
The group turns to look at the direction Kevin is pointing. Sure enough. In the distance, they could see a slender figure stumbling towards them.
"Who is it? Can anyone see?" asked Alvin from behind.
"I can't... the shadow of the trees block the sunlight." Said Ken.
Then they saw the figure stumbled and fell to the ground. Kevin immediately wades his way through the shrubbery as he makes his way towards the figure.
"Kevin wait... damn!" said Ken before rushing after his lover. The rest followed behind.
They arrived at the scene and saw a beautiful woman with raven black hair wearing a tattered woolen robe. The woman is unconscious. Here and there, her skin bled from numerous cuts and wounds. Garth immediately knelt before the woman and turned her around gently. Her breathing is shallow and already, her face is pale indicating loss of blood.
Ken knelt beside the cleric and looked at her gravely.
"She's a druid."
Meanwhile, near the city of Arabel, in Cormyr...
The ground shook as lightning rained from the sky. The wind howled and hails pelted the ground mercilessly as the lightning storm summoned by Deina raged on with the force that matches the fury of her god. The priestess of Talos cackled cruelly as she watches the carnage she has wrought upon the land. She gestured at the fighting warriors before her. Almost instantaneously, a blue-white lightning flashes and split the sky, striking the fighting warriors below. In the distance, Deina grinned in satisfaction as she saw two Purple Dragon jerked and staggered, outlined briefly in the blue-white light.
Beside her, the wizard, Damien coolly cast his own spell, and a burst of blue-white lightning bolt lanced out of his outstretched hands, crackling and dancing in the air as it descends and struck the unsuspecting Tessaril, who is busily fending off a Zhentarim warrior with her sword. Deina laughed in glee as she watches the Lady of Eveningstar staggered in surprised pain and fell to the ground, unconscious. Damien raised his hands again, intending to cast another spell.
"No, Damien! I want her alive!" Deina snarled.
With that the priestess grabbed her mace and wade into the battle.
In the battlefield...
Slash, dodge, slash, slash, dodge, thrust.
Howie stabbed one of the Zhentarim warriors with his sword. The enchanted sword struck and pierce through the armor protecting the man's chest easily, drawing magical sparks as it did, and slid through the man's chest and heart like a knife through butter. All around him, the surviving Purple Dragons struggled desperately to fight off the overwhelming Zhentarim warriors in the midst of the pelting hail and muddy ground. Lightning flashes and struck from above, killing two of the Purple Dragon. Tessaril glided smoothly from one warrior to another; dealing death to every warrior she comes up against, either by her magic or by her sword.
Lightning split the sky again, striking the ground near him. Howie leaped aside and as he got up, he noticed another Purple Dragon soldiers lying on the ground. Cursing under his breath, he searches the surrounding for any mages. The storm arises abruptly and suddenly, indicating that it is not a natural storm. There must be a mage or two nearby who is responsible for it. His attention is then focused at two other warriors charging towards him, their swords flashes as it reflects the light from the lightning.
One of the warriors slashed at him with his sword, but Howie dodged aside and block the thrust of the other warriors with his shield. At the same time, he swings his shield away from him, slamming the second warrior back and at the same time blocking the first warrior's next slash. The second warrior stumbled back with a grunt from the force of the blows and fell as he slipped against the muddy ground.
With the first warrior momentarily alone, Howie decided to take the advantage and attack mercilessly. Soon he became a whirlwind of berzerking frenzy and the warrior back away slowly as he desperately blocked the young warrior's slashes. Steel meet with steel. Sparks of magic appeared as the enchanted Cormyrian blade met with the Zhentarim steel. Howie fought on, pouring all the skills he has learned for the past three month. Tessaril might have been unable to teach him magic, but the fighting skills he gained from her is more than enough to put fear in the eyes of any of his foe. Howie dodged the swing of his foe and at the same time raised one of his legs and performs a quick spinning kick. The warrior stumbled back dazedly and Howie took the advantage and struck a killing slash.
He turned around and saw the second warrior standing before him, eyes wide open and sword upraised uncertainly. The warrior, eyes filled with fear now, drew a dagger and hurled it towards him. Howie dodged the dagger and rushed towards him. In the distance to his right, he dimly saw Tessaril slew a warrior with her sword. To his left, he saw a Purple Dragon cried out as Zhentarim blade pierce his gut. Out of fifteen Purple Dragon soldiers soldiers who accompanied him, only seven left, fighting desperately against about two dozens Zhentarim soldier.
Steel meet with steel again as he attacked the warrior before him, pouring all his battle skills into the effort. The warrior dodges and blocks but Howie continue his assault, knowing that he has to maintain the upperhand. His sword twirled and dance before him, as if it has a life of it's own, seeking for an opening and each swings intended to kill. The warrior, truly frightened now as he realized that he is fighting against a battleskill far superior than his, began to back away, looking for a chance to escape and at the same time, blocking each blow desperately. Howie continue on with his assault. Fighting flying gargoyles is one thing and might not be up to his taste but fighting warrior to warrior is another thing. Finally, an opening arises and out of instinct, the young warrior took it. The Zhentarim warrior's eyes widened as the he saw his doom and fell, staring at the sky forever.
He turned around quickly as a sudden flash of lightning bolt streaks out of the woods. His eyes widened as he saw Tessaril staggered as the bolt struck her and fell onto the muddy ground.
"TESS!!!" Howie shouted and rushed towards her.
He stopped; startled when he saw a woman strode out of the wood, wearing a light armor and bearing a glowing mace. A medallion bearing the symbol of three radiating lightning bolt - the unholy symbol of Talos the Stormlord - hung on her armored chest. The woman smiled at him wickedly and tore the medallion from her neck and held it before her, chanting grim words of magic as she did so. The medallion glowed and then a burst of golden lightning bolt burst outwards towards him. Howie jumped aside but not fast enough as the bolt struck the side of his torso, filling his being with biting pain. He cried out in agony and flew back a couple of feet away. With his mind clouded with pain, he struggled to his feet weakly. He dimly saw another figure advancing towards him; a man this time, also garbed in light steel armor but bearing a medallion bearing the unholy symbol of Bane. The man pointed towards him and unleashed a spell. The air sparkled around young warrior and his limb weakened. He fell again to the ground, paralyzed. Then the world grew dark and the pain vanished as he lost his hold on consciousness.