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Attalus · 09-09-2002, 07:56 PM

Did a little more on this, so I thought that I would post it:

Imoen could scarcely believe her good luck. Mounted on Nalia’s fine steeds, they made Baldur’s Gate in five days, being careful to travel only during the daytime, for a chance-met traveler that they had met at The Jovial Juggler Inn in Beregost had warned them that drow patrols frequently swept the roads at night. Not that they were too afraid of the chance war patrol - thy had killed too many drow for that, but it was best not to take chances. When they got to the Main Gate, they were questioned carefully until one of the Flaming Fist guards recognized Imoen, and they were let in immediately. The helpful guard, who looked at Nalia rather wistfully, she thought, directed them to a building in the Northern Section of the city, where it was understood that Attalus had set up as his headquarters. They hurried to the place, a gray stone building with battlements and a guard at the gate. Once more, they were questioned, but more briefly this time, as the little redhead was able to show them the letter from her brother.
As they entered the main hall, the big paladin himself was to be seen at once, talking to some military-looking men. With a cry of joy, Imoen launched herself on her brother, startling him momentarily, but quickly his face split in a broad grin and he hugged her close. Nalia was trying to say something, but she caught a glimpse of Viconia, standing colorfully clad in armor made from the scales of the great Red Dragon, Firkraag, which they had killed. Her expression was forbidding, thought Nalia, but then, it always was. She went over to the drow woman and hugged her in greeting, and was glad to see her scowl melt into a greeting smile.
“So, Nalia,” she said in her throaty voice, “we are to fight side by side again. By Helm, it does my heart good. The swords that brought down Irenicus, that confounded Amelysan, how could they fail against some Lloth-blinkered drow, eh?” Her smile disappeared, though, as she glanced at a tall elven figure standing a little apart, her eyes glued to the tableau of joyously united brother and sister. The beautiful drow woman’s voice dropped. “That Jaheira is here, may Mielikki blast her bones. She never has become reconciled to Attalus and me, and you can see it in every look on her face.” As there was no obvious answer to this but a deprecating smile, Nalia smiled deprecatingly. She rather liked Jaheira, sympathizing with the half-elf’s obvious love for her former ward. But, it would not do to say this to Viconia, for she, like most drow women, and indeed many women, was inclined to be jealous.

09-09-2002, 07:56 PM	#3
Attalus Symbol of Bane Join Date: November 26, 2001 Location: Texas Age: 77 Posts: 8,167	Did a little more on this, so I thought that I would post it: Imoen could scarcely believe her good luck. Mounted on Nalia’s fine steeds, they made Baldur’s Gate in five days, being careful to travel only during the daytime, for a chance-met traveler that they had met at The Jovial Juggler Inn in Beregost had warned them that drow patrols frequently swept the roads at night. Not that they were too afraid of the chance war patrol - thy had killed too many drow for that, but it was best not to take chances. When they got to the Main Gate, they were questioned carefully until one of the Flaming Fist guards recognized Imoen, and they were let in immediately. The helpful guard, who looked at Nalia rather wistfully, she thought, directed them to a building in the Northern Section of the city, where it was understood that Attalus had set up as his headquarters. They hurried to the place, a gray stone building with battlements and a guard at the gate. Once more, they were questioned, but more briefly this time, as the little redhead was able to show them the letter from her brother. As they entered the main hall, the big paladin himself was to be seen at once, talking to some military-looking men. With a cry of joy, Imoen launched herself on her brother, startling him momentarily, but quickly his face split in a broad grin and he hugged her close. Nalia was trying to say something, but she caught a glimpse of Viconia, standing colorfully clad in armor made from the scales of the great Red Dragon, Firkraag, which they had killed. Her expression was forbidding, thought Nalia, but then, it always was. She went over to the drow woman and hugged her in greeting, and was glad to see her scowl melt into a greeting smile. “So, Nalia,” she said in her throaty voice, “we are to fight side by side again. By Helm, it does my heart good. The swords that brought down Irenicus, that confounded Amelysan, how could they fail against some Lloth-blinkered drow, eh?” Her smile disappeared, though, as she glanced at a tall elven figure standing a little apart, her eyes glued to the tableau of joyously united brother and sister. The beautiful drow woman’s voice dropped. “That Jaheira is here, may Mielikki blast her bones. She never has become reconciled to Attalus and me, and you can see it in every look on her face.” As there was no obvious answer to this but a deprecating smile, Nalia smiled deprecatingly. She rather liked Jaheira, sympathizing with the half-elf’s obvious love for her former ward. But, it would not do to say this to Viconia, for she, like most drow women, and indeed many women, was inclined to be jealous.