Chain 105: Neverwinter Nights

Chain 105: Neverwinter Nights
Location: Academy Barracks (Neverwinter Nights 1)
Age: 18
Identity: Drop-In, Human
Drawbacks: [+500] A Dreadful Case of Protaganism, Double Down, Choo Choo Motherfucker, Spirit Eater

[Free]      Skilled Individual
[300/1500]  Montage
[900/1500]  Divine Magic
[1500/1500] Arcane Magic

Waking up in medieval barracks while some attack is ongoing is not exactly my idea of a good time. Keeping my head down and playing the part of a rogue is entertaining, right up until the point that it isn't - that is, playing along with the plot for the first few hours, meeting Lady Aribeth de Tylmarande, Fenthick Moss, and Desther the Helmite. Which is all well and good, as I said, until I realize that my connection to my horcrux doesn't feel right - and it's not just because I turned my focus inward to fix what was caused when a Helmite in the street blessed me. The ring is still on my finger, it's still tethered to my soul, but the tether doesn't point in the right direction.

And so the plot was placed on hold for approximately twelve hours while I started thinking with portals and started carving my way through the planes to track down my soul, eventually finding it on the Wall of the Faithless. Probably fortunate that I have the ability to visit the afterlife, or rather afterlives as the local case may be, but having to fight some asshole for possession of my soul was not my idea of a good time. However, certain recent things have made this rather a bit easier than they might have been, before.

(the standard counter-Charm for derailing Neverwinter Nights 2 and killing Akachi is, of course, a Fiendfyre-powered Fatality)

A little bit of time travel later, and no one was the wiser when it came to me stepping back onto the street that I'd left scant moments before. Though I smiled at the Helmite and told him, "So yeah, turns out I'm actually an immensely powerful being that you just angered. I'm going to kill every single person who had a hand in creating this plague. But you, I'll let escape. Run far, far, far away, little man."

And then I stopped pretending to be a rogue. In fact, I stopped pretending to play by the local rules and cut completely loose with my magic, the city blanketed in fog as I did my work. Sure, I may only be able to resurrect those who have died in the last 24 hours at most without having to go through a great deal of heavily involved processes, but more importantly, I can resurrect anyone who's died in the last 24 hours. And while running around and collecting the plot critters, I did exactly that, as well as adding a few good city-boosting charms that I'd learned to ensure the prosperity and health of those within - ritual magic that ought to have taken days or weeks, instantly done with the Ring of Elru.

Unfortunately, though I fast-forwarded through the plot and stopped anyone else from dying of the Wailing Death, things still went pants-on-head reta rded and Lord Nasher ordered the death of Fenthick just because he was there. Because apparently Lord Nasher is a goddamn idiot who has to appease the crowd instead of a ruler who says what is. And so it fell to the nine and a half foot tall fellow in all-concealing plate mail standing before Nasher to speak reason to him, though quietly enough that the others in the room did not hear it: "Lord Nasher, you are going to die quite immediately and messily if you do not grant clemency to that man and instead sentence him to make up for his mistake in service of Neverwinter."

"Who are you to issue me orders, that you dare threaten me?" he responded, without turning away from the crowd. His tone was that of a man who was used to his orders being followed without question, and the motion with his off-hand brought his guards to attention.

"I cured the plague, restored the dead, and scoured the false Helmites from your city. Normally I'm not one to interfere, but your short-sighted idiocy astounded me," I mused in a carefree tone. "I took the form of a child in that academy for hilarity's sake, but believe me when I say that I could burn every world in every plane of existence if I chose."

"This farce is over," he scoffed, before he found himself unable to move; a vague motion with one of my hands paralyzed him and kept him from issuing any orders.

"I would choose your next words with exceptional care, Lord Nasher, for men cannot comprehend the machinations of gods any more than insects can understand the cities men build. I can and will annihilate your city to make an object lesson for the foolishness of executing a single innocent man, but my patience is at an end." Another motion with the hand at my side and Nasher was released, lurching away from me, wild-eyed. Wandless magic; always a hit.

The guards approached him rapidly, before he waved them away and raised his voice. "N-no, rather than hanging, his sentence will be time spent within service to the city itself. He failed it, and his penance will be in service of the city, until he has redeemed himself!"

The crowd's reaction was mixed, but eventually seemed to settle on the majority now calling him Lord Nasher the Merciful. I, on the other hand, was quietly hustled to a dungeon while Fenthick took the plate that a protagonist might otherwise have had after that point; I spent my time in the dungeon cleaning my cell up and transfiguring it to my desired state, even going so far as to break out a magitech screen to watch an adaptation of my time in Zendikar. After having put away my armor and gone to 'civilian' mode, of course - that of a person of normal height, wearing unassuming clothing. The guards were at a complete loss, and when Nasher himself came to visit my cell, he found that it was much larger on the inside. I invited him in to my humble abode, before cheerfully pointing out that he made the right decision, if only under duress, but at least he'd continue to draw breath.

"Bit of a shame, though, really. If you'd come around on your own, I would have been able to help you guide your city to a hgiher state of industrialization. Suppose I'll throw you a bone though, here." I pulled out a book and handed it to him, though he was wary in accepting it. "Instructions on runecraft. You know how complex enchantment is for wizards? This will simplify and codify common methods, could revolutionize things if they're clever."

He flipped through it for a few moments, initially disdainful, before he started actually reading it. "This... what is this?"

"Another world's magic," I replied, turning back to the screen. "It's compatible enough with this plane's, I suppose. I won't give you any miracles, you've blown THAT chance, but I've got a soft spot for the locals."

"I've never seen armors such as these, and the weapons... even the tools outlined in here..." He trailed off, scanning through toward the middle of the book.

"You use primitive and crude tools to fashion better tools, and use those to create precise tools, and so on. The principles are universal, the runes are useful to leapfrog forward. Sick of having groups of so-called heroes running around causing havoc, or random raids by bandits cause issues? Here's your solution. Your guard can be as well equipped as the average wandering adventurer, all of them." I yawned, before I glanced down at the watch on my wrist, then sat up. "Oop, looks like Fenthick and Aribeth made it to the inn down on the Sword Coast. Time for me to join them, I'm looking forward to seeing this through to the end. Ta!"

The look on Nasher's face as I stepped Between was priceless and I really hope that I can watch it later with the Adaptinator. Not to mention that I know for a fact that the cell was studied for months afterward by wizards from the Cloak Tower until the transfigurations finally wore off. Though several things I'd brought in over the course of the few days I was in there were more permanent creations, and those artifacts were studied and eventually reverse engineered... as intended.

Of course, I joined Fenthick and Aribeth in rooting out Morag's cult. Granted, I ended up grabbing her by the neck and dragging her out when the Source Stone exploded, but this was mostly because I wanted to learn more about everything her people had been and had done. While this worked briefly, she only did that so she could kill everyone else and make good her escape, and as a result of this failed action, Aribeth and Fenthick returned to Neverwinter with her head. Though this redeemed Fenthick, at least, but the fickle public had already forgotten.

I, on the other hand, went Maximum Irresponsible Wizard and ran out leaving magical artifacts of all sorts all over the place, for shits and giggles. Not weapons, mind you, but mostly tools. And a few books.

Uplifting is fun.