Okay, so chapter 3! Sorry, it's rushed. I'm still busy despite having some free time and the quarter having finally ended. I'll try to update more often but no guarantee. And feedback! I wouldREALLY appreciate feedback. Bad or negative I'll take either, no trolls or flamers though. I don't want to be made crispy or eaten. Sorry already for bad grammar/punctuation/spelling/any other errors, I lack a betareader. And also, I know there is more than six party members. Sue me :P my fanfic, and I don't give a space hamster about the number of party members. There will be likely always be more than six. I've never like the six member limitation and so I doubt I'll follow it. Though don't worry, I won't go overkill and have every single NPC join the party.
Oh and I forgot in the other chapters to say this, but…
I don't own most of this, Bioware does. I kinda own Mina and some of the other stuff that will (might) happen in this.
Xan awoke to a cool rag being placed gently on his forehead. He opened his eyes and found himself to be in one of the small rooms of the Nashkell inn. "Don't get up, you're still sick." The ocean-eyed girl was sitting beside his bed, gently adjusting the rag on his forehead.
"How…how did I get here?" he asked.
She leaned back into her chair, and carefully folded her hands in her lap. "After we defeated Mulahey, my sister found you crumpled in the small cavern off his chambers. Our druid healed your most mortal wounds with what healing magic she had left and we brought you here. We got you out of the mine but you slipped back into unconsciousness soon after. You've been out for almost two days since we found you." She cocked her head to one side, "What happened to you?"
Xan closed his eyes as the memories of his imprisonment worked their way through his foggy mind to the surface and sighed. "I was sent on yet another suicide mission for my superiors in the Greycloaks. Well investigating I was ambushed by a horde of Mulahey's kobolds and taken prisoner. The half-orc kept me as entertainment for his little pets and as a way to take out his anger."
She nodded, "That must have been horrible. How long were you there?"
"I… I don't know. It's hard to remember. What's that date?"
She told him.
He sighed, a month. He had been kept in that hell-pit for over a month.
"I'm so sorry," the girl said gently touching his hand. "That must have been terrible."
"My blade!" Xan struggled to rise, immediately regretting it as he suddenly grew dizzy and felt lightheaded.
"Stop!" the girl said gently pushing him back into the bed and placing the rag back of his forehead. "You still very weak. You need rest."
"My sword, I need it."
"The blue glowing one?"
"Yes, my moonblade. I need it."
"I thought it was yours; it didn't seem like something the half-orc would have." She reached down beneath his bed and pulled up the sheathed, pulsing blue moonblade. "It's here now, rest."
A knocking sounded at the door behind him before opening as a tall elven man in dark green clothes and dark hair walked in. "He's awake I see. Did you find his name Mina?"
She hit herself on the forehead, "How could I have been so stupid!" She turned back to Xan, "I'm sorry for being so rude. My name is Mina, and this here," she gestured to the tall elf who had just walked in, "is my friend Kivian."
Xan nodded to the two, displacing the rag once again. "I am known as Xan."
She smiled, "I'm glad to meet you Xan."
Xan got up from the bench where he and his son had been sitting and began walking around the cobbled paths. "That was the first time I had really met your mother," he said to the boy. "She wasn't the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, nor the most eloquent or graceful." He paused, "Definitely not the most graceful as time would tell. But when she smiled at me, I fell."
He smiled to himself, "I know, I know little one; that sounds like something out of one of those cheap, unrealistic, romance novels so many people seem so enchanted with. But there I was, already feeling deep emotions for this woman I hardly knew. Of course I was convinced it was doomed to failure, so I said nothing, but to be honest it was also due in part to a lack of courage.
"I'd never been that social in my childhood and only had a few friends. I was awkward around others and never seemed to be able to communicate well with them. When my father died and I inherited his moonblade, I threw myself more forcefully into my studies of magic and the arcane, all of which left little to no time for any social activities, let alone ideas of romance.
"She cared for me, nursing me back to apparent health for a week or so, till Jaheira decided I was well enough to travel again. During that time we got to know each other, as well as her companions. There was Jaheria and Khalid, a half-elven couple whom Gorion, your mother's foster father, had asked take over care of his ward should something happen to him and her pseudo-sister Imoen who had come with her from her home of Candlekeep. There was Minsc, a Rashemani berserker who had lost his witch to gnolls and the elven man Kivan who was seeking revenge for his murdered wife.
"The group seemed hopeless, but I joined to it upon Mina's offer. Kivan and I had struck up a sort of friendship during the week I had been bed-ridden, and so despite the futility I saw in traveling with them I did. At first, I tried ignoring the feelings I knew I was beginning to develop for Mina off, and simply justified my traveling with her group as safety in numbers. Soon, however, I learned that the members of this group seemed to draw danger too them like honey flies.