Arguing with Myself

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Gurns
Sojourner
Posts: 554
Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2001 5:01 am

Arguing with Myself

Postby Gurns » Sun May 09, 2004 8:12 pm

I went to the grassy plain, south of Mt. Skelenak. It was there we had found the spirit of Arex, and the spirits of the other ancient warriors. I wore the amulet. I don't always, but I definitely needed to talk to Arex.

Though "talk" isn't quite the right word. For some reason, Arex couldn't hear me when I spoke, nor hear my thoughts. But he was literate, and could see what I saw, so if I wrote something down… I took out my quill, and plenty of paper.

He was there, with me. Even as I wrote the first note, I heard his deep voice in my mind. Intense. Worried. "The weapons. Do they know of their importance? Why have they not begun the ceremonies to imbue their own weapons?"

A huge wave of frustration, but I was getting used to that. Some of that was mine, irritated at Arex. Most of that was his, irritated at us for apparently doing nothing.

I scribed a note, and held it before my eyes:

       General Arex,

       Thank you for speaking in modern common, recently. It has been
       MUCH easier for me to understand.

       Your concern with the ceremonies is apparent. However, we have
       been told that the gods cannot interfere, this time. That includes
       participating in any ceremonies to imbue our weapons.

       Do you have any idea what we can do?


After a moment, where my frustration increased - shouldn't he be paying more attention to me, his host (oh, perhaps not the best choice of words given the other "host" that's out there) – I tapped the amulet and shook the paper.

That did it. I felt something move my eyes, and then his now-familiar rich bass voice – I wonder if he sounded like that in person? What a singer he could have been! – filled my mind. "You have adapted to my puzzling inability to hear you. This speaks well for your abilities to survive the coming conflict. Does Auzorm'Tvorl somehow bar the Pantheons from acting against him this time? Times are indeed dire if this is the case."

No, that wasn't it. So I wrote:

       Sir,

       We are told that Ao Himself has issued some edict which prevents
       direct involvement of the gods.


His response was not so confident as before. "Ao was always a myth, a cult that some worshipped but there was no substance. That is neither here nor there though, as it does not address your greatest problem."

My eyes moved past the paper, to note my – our – surroundings. He spoke again. "This field is near where we fell, indeed I can see the spirits of my warriors. I see none without a weapon, but there were many warriors. Do any of their blades exist yet?"

I wasn't quite clear what he meant, there, but I did know the answer to the question.

       Sir,

       Aye, whether Ao be myth or not, the gods are doing little directly
       to aid us.

       Only one of those weapons still exists in physical form: the
       moonblade Tahlshara.


His voice warmed, and he fondly reminisced, "Ah, Iradydrai's blade. We oft teased that he looked like a courtier dancing when he fought with it, though it detracted from his deadliness not at all. But surely of all my legions, more than ONE weapon remains. You cannot hope to fell this foe with a single blade."

Yes, thank you, we know that. It's not like we haven't been looking.

       Sir,

       According to a wise sage of Deneir, only Tahlshara remains in
       physical form.


His voice was impatient. "Only Iradydrai's blade remains? I am no mage, to worry about forms and such. I have Avernus here, and I am not alone in bearing my sworn weapon. I would lend her to this task, if I could."

And we would happily take her, if you would lend her to us! Except what good would that do?

       Sir,

       I would not worry about forms and such either, except how could a
       spirit blade harm a god, or the golem that he may be in? Those of
       us who will fight Auzorm'tvorl would welcome Avernus and the other
       weapons that you would lend. But how are we to get them?
       How are we to wield them? And how are they to do damage?


As Arex was reading this, I felt another touch in my mind. Light, musical, it had to be the elf, Iradydrai. It was. "Twas good to touch her again, long have we been parted. The others are waiting, waiting to be united with their weapons and to complete our sworn task. Do not neglect us, we've as much right to see the end as you, minstrel."

Certainly. Tell me how to go about it, and I'd be happy to let you fight the Vile One. With me, or preferably instead of me.

Arex didn't have an answer either. His deep voice was puzzled. "'I do not know Minstrel, nor is such within my knowledge. I would consult with my magi to learn the answer, were I not constrained within this trinket and could engage them in discussion."

He continued. "Many are the warriors who would give their weapons to your task, some for less honorable reasons. Shortly after we became aware of this existence, some spirits quailed. They had expected a glorious afterlife with our gods, and instead found themselves cursed to an unending existence upon the field where we failed. Some of them, upon finding themselves thus cursed, tried to hurl their sworn weapons aside and flee the field. They could not go far, nor could they rid themselves of the weapons they'd borne. So while we would gladly gift upon you these blessed weapons, I do not know how, Minstrel. Unless we were to do the fighting once more."

Well, the former could be easily arranged. But the latter, how was that to help?

       Sir,

       If your mages might know the answer, or some of your other spirits
       might know who we could consult with, I will gladly release you
       so that you may talk with them. Indeed, I will gladly release
       you whenever you wish.

       As to your warriors doing the fighting once more, several of your
       warriors have taken over my body for a time. Certainly they
       could fight through my body. But they would still not have their
       imbued weapons, so what good would that do?

       And I am but one. It is true that we hope to replicate the
       amulet, and that everyone who fights may be able to wear one, with
       a spirit inside. But many who wear them would not be willing
       to let themselves be taken over in that way. So there is that problem.


Somebody else stepped forward in my head, I don't know how else to describe it. A voice, even deeper than Arex's, and surly. He growled, "If the pusses don't want to win, then let them die like the curs they are. It's nothin' to share space with one of you. Just gotta do it RIGHT so you don't screw up any of who they are."

He wasn't shouting, and it wasn't about his sword or whiskey, but I recognized the barbarian. Thanuk. The earlier one, not the currently alive one.

Arex growled back at him. "Damn you, Pantherclaw, you said nothing of this. The others believed you reneged on your duty and escaped their eternal torment. Even still, if our warriors can share with theirs it will do no good, if there is but one weapon that can harm him."

Now Thanuk was shouting. "Me, turn my back on a fight? Who's saying that? I'll kick their ass so hard it pops out their ears so they can hear what I'm saying! Bastards, they're full of shit, I've been with that no-good descendent of mine."

The roaring went on, although I couldn't make out the words anymore. I guess they weren't talking to me. Just as well, for all the help they were.

Iradydrai stepped forward, and spoke over the din of the argument. "Pay them no mind. We are bound to our blades and task, they will come when the time is right. If we are there."

They still weren't acknowledging the problem.

       Sirs,

       I still see no solution here. Even if we are taken over,
       where are the weapons? Thanuk has taken me over many times, but he
       has never wielded Pantherclaw. Iradydrai has taken me over many
       times: Did Tahlshara magically appear in my hand then?


The arguing continued, back somewhere, where I still couldn't make out the words. I don't even know if Arex saw the note, because Iradydrai responded. "None of those times you were possessed were you expecting battle with our foe. The Great Lord himself blessed Tahlshara, touched her and gave her the purpose to destroy our Foe. It is about faith, halfbreed. They, we, have a Purpose."

That caught Arex's attention, and he left off his argument with Thanuk. Just as well, I could have told him you can't tell Thanuks anything. "Curb your arrogance Iradydrai, this minstrel does not deserve your labels. But Gurns, I believe him in this. Why else would we remain so long, if not to be summoned to battle once more, blades in hand to fulfill our holy duty?"

Labels? Oh, "halfbreed". Yes, were I an elf it would be quite an insult, but it's what I am, after all. I didn't have much say in the matter, either.

Arex spoke again, and he did address my question. Sort of. "I have tried to summon my own blade to your side before, and encountered a strange resistance. I believe that is because the time for her purpose is not quite upon us. When that time is nigh, what the elf says makes sense. Avernus and the other weapons will appear so their Purpose can be fulfilled."

Suuure, they will. And I have some nice farmland just north of Calimport to sell you.

       So I'm supposed to recruit warriors and mages, clerics and rogues
       for the battle against Auzorm'tvorl like this? "C'mon, let's
       go fight the deadliest foe imaginable. No, you don't have a
       weapon that will do the job. But one will magically appear in
       your hand at the time! Oh, and by the way, you won't actually
       be in control of your body, someone else will take it over, and
       throw you into battle."

       And when they question me about this, I'm supposed to tell them,
       "Have faith."


Iradydrai was amused. In a superior, snooty, elvish sort of way. "Yes. Do you seek certainty in all you do? If so, then you can know with certainty that without this, all is lost."

At least Thanuk agreed with me, growling. "You idiot. Stupid elf, never change. How well do you think you can fight in somebody else's body after you've been sniffin' daisies for all this time? You can't, you idiot, even if you could when you were alive."

I wanted to hit myself. No, that wasn't me. On either side. I took a deep breath to calm down. I think that was me.

The growl continued. "Like I said before, if you'd a got yer damned nose out of the air, it's not nothin' to share with somebody and not fuck up who they are. You try to control yours, and he's gonna die just like you did."

My fist clenched, then relaxed. The growl became less angry, but more intense, serious. "No. They gotta let us run things enough to pull our damned swords outta this stupid field you been in for all this time. Then you sit in there to make sure your dancing stick does what it's meant to. And let them take care of themselves."

I scratched my ass, and wanted some whiskey. Well, that was back to normal for the barbarian, anyway.

I agreed with the "stupid elf" part. As if he'd ever let something like that be done to him.

       Certainty? Nothing is certain in this life. Or, from your
       example, perhaps even afterwards. But, with all due respect,
       what would YOUR reaction have been, before the first fight, to
       such a statement? No weapon to hand, but some half-elven bard
       comes to you and says "Don't worry, you'll get it when you
       need it." No, I doubt you would have charged into battle. But
       even if you did, how many others would not? We need more
       warriors than those few who have such faith. Or who are
       sufficiently crazy.

       The same with being possessed. With the example of the current Thanuk
       before us... Who wants to be like that? And again, I doubt
       you yourself would have let yourself be possessed, taken over,
       controlled like a puppet.

       We shall need all those we can get. Not the few -- the many!
       Even then we may not have sufficient, but at least we will be
       able to put up a fight. Unless, of course, you'd rather
       drive them away, with the result that we are too few, and
       the battle is lost forever. Leaving you with your purpose
       forever unfulfilled.


Ha. Want to possess me, do you? Face the Vile One weaponless, on your word alone? Take that. Think it's bad floating around with your purpose unresolved for 10,000 years? How about forever?

Behind my neck, something vibrated and shivered. The necklace fell. I caught it, and looked at the clasp. It had been opened.

A shimmering form appeared before me. A human, maybe a touch short for one of them, but broad and strong and very sturdy. I'd purchased a few items from the dwarven blacksmith in Mithril Hall, and by build, this could have been his giant cousin.

A flat face, a nose that had been broken two or three times. And piercing, deep, dark eyes, eyes that somehow were still hard and bright and alive. Staring. Challenging.

The spirit spoke, a faint rasp, a wisp, a faded echo of the deep, rich voice I'd heard in my head. "You don't have the choice this time. We would have been skeptical, but there isn't opportunity for that now."

He raised his arms, wielding a great blade with both hands, holding it before me. A spirit blade, I could see that. But it looked as hard and bright and alive as his eyes.

Arex pinned me with his eyes and whispered, "They will be there." And faded away.

In my hand, the necklace shivered again, and the clasp closed.

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