From the Journal of Berquist, Dwarven Mercenary:

[Waverly]

Yeah, yeah, another bit o' this fussy writin’ in the common tongue, but I need be keeping my thoughts together. And my wits about me. Our fearless leader, such as he is, has nearly ended my days again. You kin say what you will about vampires and demons and such, magick folk are the worst kinda folk there is.

“Sure!” Says I. “I’m up for a bit o’ loot, and am none to shy about ‘bout takin’ what needs to be taken, if you gets my meaning.” I never did have a problem with some greedy ill-borne takin’ one in the gullet, so long as the greedy bastard t’wernt me. And he signs me up on the spot. Says, “You’ll do.” And that’s that.

Then I come to find I’m the only sword in his little company of miscreants. “Hire us another basher!” I begged, but he just smiled and said it would be all the more loot for the four of us. I’ve done more than a third of the killin’, and he a third himself. I’m not sure what the other two do. One-of'em is in and outta the shadows all the time, slinking around… she give me the creeps, that one does. Got a taint of evil to’er, and that probably applies literally as well as figuratively, tho I ain’t gonna be the one to find out fer sure.

The other, doesn’t even do that much. Just kinda flails her arms about occasionally. If any real work need be done, she summons up a critter to do her dying for ‘er. Says she keeps me all healed and well. Bullocks! She waits ‘till I’m near dead half the time, and even then she saves the real good healin’ for the others. Says she can maybe raise the dead if need be. Maybe? Like I wanna be the one she tries it out on.

So, what has transpired since my last entry? My near demise is all. Again. The slinker and the healer got other jobs this battle, he begins tellin’ me. We decided on this strategy, you see. We. Like I was ever consulted. So the three-of'em start casting spells at me until my damn yarbles begin t’ glow. Haste. Stoneskin. Priapic miasma… yeah, they thought that was right funny.

So in I go, all by myself, when the fargin’ Dragon catches sight o’ me. I was gonna run for it, being hasted and all, but that blackard Waverly woulda turned me into a guppy or some such. He nearly incinerated me as it is. Dropped a freakin’ fireball right on my pate, he did. I begin hackin’ away with both swords for all I’m worth, but the Dragon has the drop on me. Smashes up my best armor, not to mention what’s inside. And then what’s inside of me starts leakin’ out! I’m lookin’ at the ground at my own giblets! Mighta been my spleen or somthin’. Twas then, and only then, does Sylbrial attempt to heal me.

She had been back there chatting up Waverly as he dropped fiery death on top o’ me. I think she mighta sent in a raccoon or a rabid hamster or somthin’ to help. Flippin’ thing ended up a pile of ash the second the beast saw it. And Thraise? Where was our friend Thraise? Invisible. The other two idiots actually congratulated her for her cowardly hidin’. Shyte.

Anyway, I'm feelin' a bit more like a whole dwarf, and finally I begin makin’ some progress after what seems like an endless cycle of being slaughtered and revived. I swear half my wounds were coming from the idjits behind me. That’s when the final insult takes place. The Dragon starts a’gaspin’ and weasin’. “Triumph!” Thinks I; but just then Waverly, that misbegotten meddler, starts firing arrows over me shoulder. Rapid they come, and I barely have time heft me sword when the worm keels over from a blasted arrow wound to the sternum. After all my blood spilt, the satisfaction of besting my foe is stolen from me. Thraise ran over to pick up the loot, and I was too stunned to even ask what there was.

Later they tell me there wasn’t much o’ anything I’d be interested in anyway. Blaargh!

[Waverly]

Ah, what great fun! I knew this was going to be a worthy adventure the moment we set out. Sure that compact runt we hired on does some whining, but his terrific discomfort only adds to the atmosphere. Sylbrial is far too nice to him, especially when you consider what the little rodent says to her. I think I even caught him trying to look up her cuirass, though it could just be that that’s as high as his eyes reach.

Waverly is pretty adept at managing our quaint little foursome. “Slip into the shadows and slit open the belly of that cleric,” He’ll whisper; and with a quick chuckle, I’m off... Seeing how quickly I can end a clerics service to his god never ceases to cause Sylbrial to shudder. Ha! Sometimes I like to slink behind her and touch her neck with some cold steal. Nothing more than a cooking utensil. When she starts, I’ll ask in my most innocent voice, “Would you like a bite to eat, sweetie?”

Oh, but I was writing to say what fun we had today. I’d never seen a Dragon up close before. I had caught sight of one far away and in flight once, but that was long ago. Magnificent creatures, they are. This one was black as night, his very breath acid. And when you looked into his amber eyes, what you saw was an ancient and malevolent intelligence. I shook with both fear and anticipation as we drew up plans for attack.

I was going to get his attention and draw him towards us, slipping into the darkness as he followed. Berquist, that know-nothing, couldn’t contribute any other way so we had him stand in front of the beast and keep him busy. “Make faces and silly noises,” I told him. You should have seem him scowl. Bah! Learn some magic or how to aim a ranged weapon, you squat little fool. I wonder if he is that small in full proportion… might explain his attitude. I think he looks up my jerkin as well. (note to self: buy undergarments!)

Anyway, we let the worm have it. Berquist kept him somewhat busy, but Sylbrial kept having to stop to heal the oaf, which annoyed me no end. I had suggested that we let the dragon finish him and try to bring him back from beyond later, but Waverly observed, “What, and have the toothsome beast charge after us? I think not.”

Our hail of magic and arrows had the desired effect, but that little twerp was well nigh close to delivering the death blow. Thankfully Sylbrial distracted him with one last healing spell long enough for us to finish him. Waverly says he dispatched the Dragon with a magic arrow, though I was certain I had gotten him. Oh, well. I kept the loot for myself anyway. Never occurred to any of them that I was lying when I said I couldn’t find any.

[Waverly]

Tempus, my protector, I still don’t know about these people. Why couldn’t I have been more like my sister? She travels with a peaceful druid and that wholesome paladin. I hear they do wonderful good deads, and don’t even accept payment. Waverly… he threatens people to pay him more, and sometimes Thraise steals from the people we help. But it’s the Ends that justifies, right? I mean maybe Thraise is a Tiefling, but that doesn’t make her a bad person... well… she is still my friend, even if she does like to play tricks on me. Mean spirited, cruel tricks.

Anyway, we did do some good today. So what if they are a bit rough around the edges. It must have been you, Tempus, who led me to Waverly, so in need of my healing after that nastiness at the tavern. He took one look at the edge of my battleaxe, and told me, “I bet you can provide some first rate cleavage, I hope I have a chance to see it in action.” He can be such a charming gentleman at times.

To be clear, I really tried to give our group direction, perhaps provide them some much needed guidance, but Waverly usurped command at some point. I still consider myself the spiritual leader. I'm just kind of behind the scenes, as it were.

Oh, yes, today: A repugnant Dragon blocked our path and threatened a peaceful village. We decided to rid the world of his malignancy. Berquist bravely volunteered to keep the worm busy, while Thraise, ever guileful, led him into our trap. Such teamwork! Berquist stood stalwart, aglow with your spendor, as I had given him your blessings before battle. Waverly fortified him with stoneskin and haste. I’m not sure who cast priapic miasma…poor little guy isn’t all that big to begin with. I hope he cannot see up my cuirass from down there. Which reminds me, Thraise wants to go undergarment shopping with me. Girl stuff! What fun. We are really bonding.

At any rate… Waverly and I rained justice down upon our ancient foe, Thraise seeking opportunities to catch him unaware from the shadows. I’m afraid some of our spells splashed Berquist, but he took it good naturedly enough. I did my best to keep him well, but I’m not sure he ever did recover his spleen. Nevertheless, our plan work flawlessly! I saw the great Dragon falter and I delivered a crippling flamestrike to slay him in the name of Tempus. Waverly is pretty sure he felled him with a magic arrow. Could be. He is usually rights about these things. Waverly praised Tempus as well... at least I think that is what he said.

And in way, the best part was that there was no horde, no spoils, as reported by Thraise afterwards. A purely altruistic act. So now we have time to relax, and maybe celebrate with a bit of shopping. Waverly doesn’t think we have time to shop for undergarments, but I’m certain we can fit it in. I can’t wait for the next adventure with my friends, such as they are.

[Next up, perhaps some words from Waverly the Seer]

[Gwalchmai]

"Cleavage" heh, heh. "Girl stuff" Heh, heh!

[Scayde]

*Loud Applause* Brilliant..LMAO......Kudos......

*Giggle* *snicker*

*More Applause*

[smass]

Waverly - you rule! LMAO

[Nippy]

Tee hee, "Cleavage". I love it! Waverly, you and I have attempted to flame each other before mate, but this is frickin' hilarious!

[Waverly]

Curious, it doesn’t look like I’ve written since parting company with my last band of mercenaries several months ago. It is strange how we part ways after a lengthy campaign, only to find new companions and new adventures. Stranger still is the feeling that I myself must start anew, relearning skills and spells just as if I were first setting out on my own. It used to be I could concentrate equally on my swordplay and sorcery, but lately it is almost as if the rules have changed. If I don’t devote substantial attention to the arcane arts, even at the expense of the other, I don’t seem to excel the way I used to in past adventures.

I kind of miss my last merry band, though we separated as amicably as circumstances would allow; them being separated from their heads as I performed a strategic withdrawal. I had told them that the catacomb of the jade liches would be our last great adventure, and so it was. My gift of prophesy rarely fails, though the details may be a bit lacking.

I should jot down a few thoughts on my new crew, if for no other reason than to have something to remember them by when, either through misadventure or adventure’s end, they too must say farewell. It was a disagreement in a tavern that brought me to Sylbrial. She thinks it was the work of Tempus, but I doubt her dour god is responsible for me accidentally questioning the virtue of an elven peeress. After she, her men at arms, and fair number of patrons, helped me to the door, a bit of healing was welcome relief. I entreated Sylbrial to join me the moment I met her. It may have been the drink talking, as I had no idea what qualifications she might have other than those that were straining against her tunic as she bent over to tend my wounds. All and all she has been a fine addition, though I grow a bit tired of her pretending we are the errant servants of she, the great and beautiful Battlegaurd. It’s all a bit too ‘mommy’ for my taste.

Oh, and Syl, darling, I have news for you. You are neutral evil. Your best friend is a tiefling, and you are out spending coin we looted from a temple. I don’t want to hear about your sister and her paladin buddy, her druid boy toy, or your devotion to justice any longer. Neutral. Evil.

Thraise had attempted to cut the purse from my shoulder. Actually she did cut it, and it was a fine bag of holding, so it would have served her right if my sword had severed her wrist. But, alas she was a bit quicker than I expected, and she bolted out of the way. She had run afoul of a groggy barbarian earlier in the eve, and was all too eager to join us. It was Sylbrial who first extended the invitation, though I expect she wouldn’t have had she noticed… It probably would not have mattered to me, but Thraise’s otherwise fair features bore a subtle yet remarkable mischievous quality that I recognized at once to be that of a tiefling. I told Sylbrial to think of her as a project. An offhand comment that she seems to have taken seriously. For her part, Thraise revels in it; alternately teasing and making nice with the cleric, which to my amusement has proven to cause far more havoc then fully one or the other. Their frequent embraces and fisticuffs are a welcome diversion.

And Thraise, some news for you as well: "You want me?" is not the appropriate response when I try to get your attention during combat. Try, "Right away, your lordship," or something similar and save the double entendre for camp where it is most welcome.

I think Berquist has a bit of a crush on Thraise, though who can be sure, the scowling little pervert. The only reason I have time to write at the moment is that the ladies took to the shopping district in search of “wine and undergarments,” as they told me. Quite a combination, but I’m sure it has something to do with that leering little pup and his waist high gaze. And who suffers? Waverly. No more surreptitious glimpses, no more licentious fun.

The little bugger is over there scribbling in his “jurnel” as I saw him spell it. He might want to stick to pictures or bawdy rhymes and leave the writing to me. I’ll tell his tale for him, our hired sword. There really isn’t more to him than that. We needed a grunt to keep the less amiable critters we encounter out of our way. He does that tolerably well, and I guess his earnestness rather grew on us.

He’s probably writing about his exploits of the past few days: “Wavarly kilt the monstr rite out from under me. I gess I’m no good fer nothin’ but droolin’ over the womin’s fannys.” Or something along those lines. Here’s what really happened…

I decided on a course of action I knew would succeed, then told the others we had arrived at the decision democratically. “Demon critically?” The dwarf asked, but I had no time for his peculiar brand of ignorance, and told him we had come up with the plan together.

This always works. I even let Sylbrial translate my orders into Tempus-ese and pretend she was in charge. We loaded up Berquist with defensive spells and set him off. I even cast priapic miasma, thinking maybe it would boost his spirits a bit. Thraise gave the Dragon a good poke in the backside with her sword, then took to running. Just as he was about to pounce on her, she vanished, and the beast ran right smack into Berquist. He didn’t even see him down there for a moment, not until a gash was opened up in his foreleg, anyway. The rest of us let loose with our most powerful spells and ranged weapons. The dragon wanted to get to us so badly he could taste our flesh, but a tenacious little stump of a dwarf held fast in front of him.

In fact, the little dwarf was probably killed a few times over, but Sylbrial kept his mite-body animated. Did I splash him with damage a few times? Sure, but that’s life. And I’m not the one responsible for eviscerating his liver, or whatever that was. He seems to function just fine without it anyway.

Much discussion ensued about who got the kill. I did. It was my plan, and I’ll graciously take credit. We don’t need to talk about any sawed off little hill-dweller who may or may not have landed the final blow, but took too many hits to the head to remember it.

I’ll have to have a word with Thraise later. She pulled that, “Hmm. There doesn’t seem to be any loot here,” stunt again. I didn’t risk the lives of my beloved companions to go without the associated reward.

edit for wrong diety

[Scayde]

*clapping wildly* ....Oh you are a meanie

[Waverly]

Thanks for the comments, everyone!

In case you couldn’t tell, I’m somewhere in chapter 5 of IWDII. Not nearly as engrossing as BGII or Torment, and after NWN, the graphics look like you are adventuring through a pointillist painting. Still worth a run-through though.

I’ll fill you in if I can find any more excerpts from the journals of my colleagues at arms, but in the meantime, feel free to comment on these or add your own.

[Bloodstalker]

Great stuff Waverly Cleavage always makes a story more interesting

And it's nice to know I am not the only person who choice the "you want me? " voice for my female character

[frogus]

Hehe..excellent journals...glad to someone out there can still roleplay with no morals

[Waverly]

Quote:

Originally posted by Bloodstalker Great stuff Waverly Cleavage always makes a story more interesting And it's nice to know I am not the only person who choice the "you want me? " voice for my female character

That is one of my favorite voices. Breathy and unrepetant. For a female thief, it is up there with Sheena Easton doing the vioce of Annah in Planescape.

[Bloodstalker]

Quote:

Originally posted by Waverly That is one of my favorite voices. Breathy and unrepetant. For a female thief, it is up there with Sheena Easton doing the vioce of Annah in Planescape.

I created a character who will remain nameless based on a certain story here which will also remain nameless just for that voice.


Don't tell T

[T'lainya]

Great stuff Waverly you evil man
@ BS Don't worry your secrets safe