Okay, a little introduction. This is a novel that I wrote (unpublished) after finishing TOB for the first time and vigorously disagreeing with the end. I have moved the exerpt previously posted here to its proper place in the story.

[ 09-01-2002, 06:07 PM: Message edited by: Galadria ]

This is the opening.
Lady Galadria, Mage of note, stared intently at the bowl on the table before her. Her husband, Sir Attalus covertly watched her from a nearby couch. The two had only been married a few months, and Attalus was both worried and annoyed at this new preoccupation in his young wife. Not that he had expected her to be a doting spouse - he had known her too long and too well. They had met on the road as fellow adventurers and only recently having accumulated enough gold to buy a house, a modest place in the City of Baldur's Gate.
Modest, indeed, considering how much treasure they had accumulated after the fall of the evil wizard they had opposed. Attalus had helped pick out the discreet, secure house on a quiet side street. It supplied the necessary home they, and their allies, needed after years on the road. But now the structure was filled with tension. Indeed, the young knight was not the only one with a grievance. Lady Noemi, Galadria's half-sister was not even speaking to her, after Galadria had sent her apprentice, and Noemi's lover, Morgul, on a highly secret- and dangerous- mission to the north, from which he had only recently returned. He had dug up the pieces that he had later assembled into this bowl in a strange, shadowy valley shunned by nearby barbarians. With the aid of the their shaman, he had reassembled the bowl and triumphantly produced the object to Galadria as a new and obviously potent magical device. Now, he and Noemi were enjoying a joyous reunion, and Galadria was studying the strange piece of glass.
As she sent her mind through the magical object, Galadria slowly worked her hands over a small flask. She had found this in the ruins of the wizard's house and had recalled that he had used the thing to imprison a genie. Somehow, more of the mage's magical essence had lingered in the flask than any of the more impressive relics that she had found.
Attalus finally moved, noisily, and cleared his throat. "Galadria…,“ he began. The dark sorceress started, as if suddenly awakened. She gave her husband a faintly reproachful glance. "Gal, please", he continued, "I'll leave you alone if you'll just tell me what you're trying to find out."
Galadria relaxed, visibly. "I don't know, exactly, my love." Attalus brightened at that small bit of affection. He did love this woman, desperately.
"If I knew, exactly, it would become relatively easy, " she went on. " I just have been overwhelmed by a feeling , lately, that Smaractus was still alive somewhere." Attalus felt his tension return at the mere mention of the name if the wizard who had tormented his wife and Noemi, and nearly had him killed. He forced himself to smile.
"But, Gal," he said uneasily, " He's dead. We saw his body. And I know it was him because he was flinging spells at us, left, right, and center. And I saw his magical defenses break as you three were hurling countermagic against him." Noemi, it should be said, was also a sorceress, though not nearly of Galadria's accomplishments. Her interests tended to be more diverse. The other member of the three mages was their fair friend, Cythera.
"For a person like Smaractus," Galadria said, with a thoughtful look, "death can be an opportunity to do more harm."
"That crossbow bolt was more than a minor distraction!", Attalus stated, with pardonable pride. Indeed, it had been a poisoned bolt from his own weapon that had finally downed the sorcerer. "But," Galadria persisted, "how about all those bodies and clones he always had laying about? Couldn't he have somehow transmitted his soul into one of those?"
Suddenly a new voice was heard, loud and heated, "He didn't have a soul. That's why he wanted ours!" Both sets of eyes turned to the door, where stood a petite but very erect figure, green eyes and red hair blazing. Noemi must have overheard their conversation and her temper had overridden her sulks.
Attalus tried to hide a smile to see the two confronting each other. They were not alike, these sisters, and indeed, they had different mothers. Where Noemi was bright, Galadria was dark: black hair and nearly black eyes, though he after claimed to see a faint sheen of caramel in them. She was also tall, and in her black and gold robes was an impressive figure, crackling with potential power. They often clashed, especially lately, as evidenced by the Morgul dispute. It actually spoke of the confidence that Noemi had in her sister's affection that she so often argued with her, as all involved knew that Galadria could have fried her to a crisp in an instant. That it never crossed either of their minds for an instant was obvious, at least to the knight. Attalus himself was tall, broad, and blonde. His easygoing nature had been a real asset in their recent adventures and very unusual in a paladin. Cythera had once acidly remarked that the blonde knight was so virtuous not out of conviction but because he was too lazy to find out what attractiveness there was to evil. Attalus had then set everyone laughing by drawling,” If I ever thought that it had any, I would have looked into it." His heart gladdened to remember that Cythera was coming to town in a few days-just the kind of distraction he felt Galadria needed.
II
At that same instant, Smaractus was not concerned with Galadria or her friends at all. The necromancer had managed to preserve his consciousness, though not his soul: for, as Noemi had quite rightly contended, he didn't have one. He had been stripped of it by the elven gods for a crime so foul that it won't even be mentioned here. He was not thinking of Galadria because he didn't like to brood on his failures, and those had been many. She and her sister he had scooped up, and kept them powerless and unconscious for a time. In a moment of distraction, however, he had let Galadria come to her senses, and she had escaped. Learning later that Noemi was still in the evildoer's clutches, she and her friends had come back, wrecked his castle, and rescued the redhead. Then, more enraged than ever at Noemi's account of her tortures at his hands, they had caught him and killed him. He had been surprised to awaken on this plane, but he had once again immediately set out with his powerful magic to realize his ambitions. Smaractus would have missed his sister Anya, who had also been among the casualties, if he had been capable of any affection. He wasn't, he merely regretted the loss of an asset.
He was now engaged in fashioning a cage. It was one of his favorite occupations, and he did it well. This alternate reality he had found himself in after his defeat was very conducive to his particular kind of magic, and he had been able to amass a large amount of resources in a small time. Enchantment, alchemy, and outright theft and murder had netted him a large though rather run-down house and a goodly amount of money. From there it was a small step to acquiring the tools of his trade. No, money meant nothing to him but a means to an end, and that was power. But to get the level of power he lusted for, he lacked one thing: a soul. And not just any soul=the soul of a god.
Of course, the soul of a reigning deity was beyond even Smaractus' considerable power to steal, so he sought the next best thing: the soul of a child of a god's earthly avatar. Such souls, though rare, were by no means unheard of. Nevertheless, when he found one, he had no intention of letting it get away again. Hence the cage. He smiled to himself, thinking of just how he would extract the unwilling thing from its companion body. Such a process was delicate, for, obviously, any damage would mean the whole process to do over again. Smaractus had no intention of repeating this effort. For too long, the goal he sought had eluded him. Soon, after finishing these preparations, he would begin his search for his nest victim.
Then, he would begin his ascent to godhood.


Not many miles from there, a pretty girl with curly black hair, paused in her chores. A cold shudder ran through her, but quickly stopped. She shrugged, and went on feeding her chickens. It was, she thought, like the old people talked about, "someone walking over your grave."

III
"So," said Cythera,"this is the famous house." She wondered as she noted the relatively small size of the structure, at least compared to her family estate in which she dwelt with her husband, Odo. Cythera was the child of privilege and had grown to expect it, even after the years spent on the road with her friends. Galadria smiled to herself as she caught the faint hint of condescencion. "It has features that may surprise you, dear Cyth," she purred.
Cythera caught herself up sharply. She knew Galadria far too well to mistake that tone. "What features,Galadria? Tell me all, omit no detail!" She peered around as if to pry our the house's secrets, her pretty face screwed up into a comic grimace.
Galadria had to laugh at her friend. They had saved each others lives too often not to be able to forgive small trespasses. "Come and see, “she trilled, beckoning.
Attalus heaved a small inward sigh of relief. As expected, Cythera's arrival had put Galadria back into a good mood. The strange bowl, which he was beginning to dislike heartily, still sat on the table next to Smaractus' flask, but the dark mage had lately spent far less time brooding over it, concentrating on the flurry of preparations for Cythera's arrival. Odo, her husband and Attalus' long time boon companion, was ensconced on the couch, pouring from a flask of wine that he and Cythera had brought from their vineyard as a hospitality gift. Like Cythera he was a member of the nobility, even bearing the title of Baron, but he was far less wealthy, which is why they lived at her place. He beckoned to Attalus, proffering a brimming glass, and the two were quickly deep in conversation about hunting and war, for the while thankfully oblivious of their wives.
Galadria, observing this, left them to it and drew Cythera further into the house. The blonde mage, for her part, sensibly admired the rugs and furnishings, stopping here to comment on a statue, there to recognize a memento of their shared adventures. After a suitable interval, Galadria led the other woman up a small stair. They emerged onto a seemingly open roof, with a rich parquet on the floor, giving way to an intricately patterned tiled area in the center. Around this were evenly spaced three black wooden benches, partially covered with a purple cushion apiece.
Cythera's reddish brows went up. "But..",she started, trailing off. "But, Galadria, why all this, open to the weather, open to thieves..," she trailed off again. She looked sharply at Galadria, suspecting some trick, only to hear a partly suppressed giggle behind he. She turned about quickly.
Noemi stood there, looking much more stylish than Cythera remembered her, all done up in bright green satin robes instead of the black leather that had been her daily wear on the road. The two women rushed into each other's arms. "Em, my dear," Cythera managed, torn between gladness and curiosity. "What wonder are you two about to show me?"
The redheaded woman shot Galadria a quizzical look, accompanied by a raised eyebrow. “Has she guessed, then, Gal?“ she queried.
Galadria shook her head happily. “I don't think so,” she said tentatively, " but she knows something's ...odd." Galadria made a droll face, shooting her eyes to the apparently open city below. It was Noemi's turn, then. Assuming a bewildered expression, apparently the twin of Cythera's, she rushed to the parapet, jumped up, gathered herself for leap into the air. Cythera involuntarily squeaked. Then Noemi jumped, as far up and out as she could go...and fell back onto the floor. The blonde sorceress gaped.
Noemi, landing like a cat, as usual, stood on her tiptoes and grinned, like someone who has just performed a difficult feat. Glancing at her skeptically, Cythera walked slowly over to the parapet and reached out as far as she could go and felt an immovable barrier. “A force field,” she whispered, but I never heard of one so large.”
Later, when they were sitting down over wine similar to what the men were drinking, “Cythera asked, ”But how did you find it? And why do you need it? I mean, it is very grand…” her words trailed off as she thought of all the undesirable features, at least to her: relatively small size, unfashionable district, lack of a dance floor, and so on.
Galadria smiled as she considered her friend’s words. “Why, Cyth, you haven’t even thought of what is it’s most attractive feature. You can see the stars, on a clear night.“
The little blonde’s mouth puckered into an o. “You want it for the Ceremony of Tres. That’s why you asked me here,” she stated flatly. “But, Gal, what question do you want to ask?”
“I want to ask her,” Galadria replied cryptically, “what to put in a bowl.”

[ 07-02-2002, 01:39 PM: Message edited by: Galadria ]

As soon as dinner was over and the men had gone down to the wine cellar, Galadria excused herself and left Cythera and Noemi alone. The blonde mage at once turned to her friend and whispered, "So, Em, what's gotten our Gal in such a swivet?"
Noemi shifted her eyes guiltily to the next room, alert for Galadria noises. Satisfied, she whispered back, "I dunno. Some deal with Smaractus. She seems to think that he's around, somehow."
Cythera frowned in bewilderment. "But he's dead. We burned the body, so there could be no resurrection. She insisted on it, remember? Attalus wanted to leave him to rot, but Gal said, take no chances. What makes her think that he could have survived that?"
Noemi shrugged. She had been letting her red locks grow,
mostly because Morgul had told her that he would prefer her that way, and her shoulders tumbled the fall of her carefully curled hair. "She just says that she has a feeling, and that she had learned to trust those feelings. I think she's got him on the brain." She felt slightly hypocritical as she said this, since no day went by without her memories of her captivity coming back. Her new love affair was seeming to take it off her mind, which made it all the more precious to her.
Their conversation was interrupted by Galadria's re-entrance. They must have looked guilty, for she said with a tart grin, "What are you two talking about? Me, I'll bet."
Cythera felt chagrin, but she charged right in. "Yes, Gal, it was. I was asking your little sister aabout why you seemed so upset. We are both worried about you, and I know that Attalus is upset."
The dark mage patted her friend's peaches-and-cream cheek. "Now, now, you all worry too much." Here, she looked sharply at Noemi. "Or, not enough. But, that's my job, to decide what there is worthy to worry about." She set down a tray laden with wine and glasses. This wine, visible through the crystal walls of the decanter, had a fainly pink cast. "Now, let us have some wine, and talk about it."
“I have been thinking about Smaractus, Cyth,” Galadria began. “I feel that he is still about. I have been searching for a means to test my idea, and I have obtained a powerful magical article that may give me the answer.”
“Is that why you sent Morgul to get it? Asked Noemi politely. She was determined to hold her tongue.
“Yes it was, Em,” replied her sister.
“Well, then, why didn’t you tell me?” she asked with, she hoped, awinning smile.

Gal, I've read the first bit, nice bit of dialogue there! [img]smile.gif[/img] I have to ask though, having not quite beaten BG2 yet (damm Jonaleth!) does it spoil anything from ToB in the further passages? Just a query, nice writing so far. [img]smile.gif[/img]

Lioness, she is busy in the kitchen, so she has told me to say: There is NOTHING of TOB in this book. It details her ideas for what happened to our party after SoA. And, you will notice that there are changes as well to the events of SoA.

Thanks Attalus. [img]smile.gif[/img] Tell her I expect to see MORE, MORE, MORE! ;) Very good, Gal. [img]smile.gif[/img]

Thanks, Lioness, good of you to say so. Here is some more.

.

Galadria considered the question. " I could say, Em, that you weren't in much of a mood to listen to explanations." she stated.
"Well, I'm in the mood now," answered Noemi, carefully controlling her temper. “Can’t you tell me why you thought you had to do that?” Galadria seemed to consider this.

"It all started," said the dark woman, finally , "with the dreams."
Noemi nodded sympathetically. She had had nightmares, herself. "About Smaractus," she guessed.
"Yes," Galadria went on, "vile images, and his hideous voice gloating over me, and making untempting temptations. Then, one night, in the middle of a particularly bad one, this Voice came into my dream, drowning him out.."
"A Voice," Noemi echoed.
Galadria nodded." A holy Voice, " she whispered.
The redhead nodded sympathetically. Any voice that drowned out Smaractus' would be holy to her. "What did it say,?” she asked gently.
"It said," Galadria went on carefully, "' To the North. Your freedom from him lies in the snows of the pass.' And then I woke up."

The other two pondered this. "What did you do, then?" asked Cythera.
"I thought about it. Much." Galadria replied."Then I got together the expedition you know of, and sent it to the Pass of the North."
"So tell me now," said Noemi intently, "why Morgul and that...woman." she finally spat.
"Em, I told you," The dark girl answered," she's very good at finding things. And Morgul could recognize maical items. Which is how it turned out."
Noemi exploded. "You could have sent ME! I'm plenty magical, more than Mory even! And I'm good at finding things." She turned to Cythera for support. "Tell her, Cyth."
"Em," Galadria cut in, "no one is more appreciative of your abilities than me. I'm your sister, and we've been through a lot together. But Morgul hasn't had a lot of experience, and I thought it would be good for him." Galadria didn't choose to mention that she wouldn't have thought of sending her only sister on a dangerous journey that could well have turned out to be a wild goose chase.
Cythera put her arms around the excited redhead. "Now, Noemi, honey, don't be mad at Gal," she said soothingly. "She acted for the best, and so it has turned out, seemingly." She frowned in thought; turning to Galadria, she asked, "But what are we to do now?"
"It is to my mind," Galadria replied,"that we are to retrieve my error. I, and any who would go with me, am going north. To the Pass." She looked at her friends enquiringly.
Cythera interrupted Noemi's attempt at a reply."'And any who would go with me,'" she quoted mockingly. "As if Odo and I would let you and my darling Attalus go to that nasty cold place alone."
"And Mory and I!" Noemi finally got out. "You can't separate us! You and me ", she added hastily , lest her sister think she was still carrying on with the Morgul dispute.
"All will be welcome," Galadria said with a smile, "but you and Morgul will sleep on opposite sides of the campfire."
Noemi started to go off again, but caught herself at seeing a twinkle in her sister's eye. "All right," she answered mildly, "at least he'll be seeing me through the smoke, instead of little Lilyblack."

[ 07-04-2002, 10:00 AM: Message edited by: Galadria ]

Wonderful Gal! [img]graemlins/thumbsup.gif[/img]

[ 07-04-2002, 10:17 AM: Message edited by: Sir ReGiN ]

Hey. ReGiN!!! Long time, no see. Glad you like it. I'll post some more.

As preparations for depature went on, Noemi and Morgul had begun to feel confined, so Noemi had sought Galadria's permission to take a night off; her sister, engrossed in her lists and tasks, absently agreed. The two therefore excitedly dressed in their neglected finery, and went out to see a play, with dinner at the elegant Inn of the Three Pheasants to follow. Coming home rather late, the pair turned on to the quiet side street where their dwelling sat and suddenly were accosted by a voice from the shadows: "L-lady Galadria?", it said.
The change in the seemingly light-hearted couple was instantaneous. Noemi cut off a comment she was making and swept out a sword. The faint pinkish light that came from the blade showed Morgul clasping his staff with one hand, while the other weaved the preliminaries of a spell. The glow from the enchanted sword also removed some of the gloom that had enveloped their interlocator, revealing a small, skinny girl dressed in rags. This did not cause them to step down their vigilance, however. They both had been in too many ambushes where the bait had sought to betray them by appealing to their better natures. Morgul, nontheless, changed his spell into a general finding spell, seeking any evil in the immediate vicinity.
Noemi, for her part, relied on the blade. It's magic was to darken when enemies threatened, but it remained a sunny pink:. "Questioner" was the name it bore. The redhead allowed herself a small smile, though it looked grim to the frightened girl who had addressed them."Lady Galadria I am not," she stated calmly, "but her sister, Noemi. Now who, in Tres' name, are you?"
The girl, on the verge of tears, managed to blurt, "Sefa , my Lady, " and tried to do what she obviously thought a curtsy.
Noemi's smile broadened. She was in a bit of a dilemma, as she wanted to sheathe Questioner to reassure the girl, but it was the only light. She compromised by lowering the blade slightly. "What business then, Sefa, do you have with the Lady Galadria?"
Sefa, her wits quickened by life on the streets of the city, detected the softening of this formidable womans hostility. "Ma'am, I mean Lady Noemi, I've got something that I think she'd want."