Idle Adventures

Phlan and I

Where I come from flan is something you eat, not something you spell funny, populated by dog people and the undead. I'm not sure how I was managing to be this petty. I was upside-down and swaying slightly in the breeze. The Gnolls were going to cook me. 

I suppose I don't look threatening, but I swear they caught me off guard. I didn't expect the freaking door that was sitting in the parking lot of a Kroger to be a portal to freaking not-Narnia when I'd stepped through it. I could see the parking lot on the other side one second then, BAM, here I was in Faerun. 

I won't say I'm a nerd, I suppose I don't have to. Anyone who's able to step through a magic portal and immediately recognize that they're just short of the city where Pools of Radiance took place pretty much qualifies automatically. Thankfully I know survival basics, hunting fighting, adventuring. Heck, I can even fashion a torch. It was horribly unfair that I'd LARPed my whole life and I was going to die before I had a crack at doing the real thing.

"Dumathoin's Beard and Bollocks, there's a girl up there."

I'd officially gone mad. I had a flash of the excitement you feel when you're carded at the gas station at his statement- he thought I was in my twenties! That so sweet! I twisted around until I saw-

Bruenor Battlehammer was fighting his way to the center of the Gnoll's camp. He laid about with his axe, excessive force tossing the twisted creatures around like rag dolls, their pouches and packs splitting open in a shower of coins as they flew threw the air. A dark elf with a jaunty hat and eye patch flew forward to where I dangled, floating up and cutting my bonds.

I dropped into a graceless heap, trying to remember that I was Aliera of Wayrest, that I'd helped launch Bethesda Softworks back when they were an indie company and I was 12, and that dissolving into a puddle of hero worship was below my adventuring status. He was HOT. Hot. Hot. I dropped into a crouch and came up under the Gnoll's guard as it appeared to my right and Jarlaxle took his companion in a series of thrusts. 

I wailed the Gnoll's solar plexus and grabbed his chin firmly as he went down, pushing sharply upward. His neck was thicker than I thought and the thought that I'd probably wrench something if I kept it up struggled to force its way through the euphoria of fighting next to The Jarlaxle. I wanted to tell him my hopes and dreams. I wanted to suggest fun things to do. Could we go steal a ship? He was a trader and I'd always wanted to try my hand and being a pirate.

"Where are we going?" I asked breathlessly as the last Gnoll fell and Bruenor stumped towards me, wiping his axes on a scrap of ragged shirt stripped from the fallen. Jarlaxle was looting them efficiently. 

"We're headed to Waterdeep- were you traveling that way?" He asked, his Common still accented despite years living in the Spine of the World. 

"Um, Yes! Yes, I was. I have a boat there. Well, it's not my boat, but it has an incredible cargo..." I let my voice trail off and kicked six years of art and theatre into place, looking innocent and excited. Jarlaxle's good eye sparkled with interest. He knew when someone was trying to catch his attention.

"We can travel together for a while," he told me gently and I wailed him with a dose of Charm. I was going to get my way if it killed me. I had no illusions about how screwed I was here, in a foreign land. If the fun wore off I was quite likely going to die. So I buried it under the adrenaline and nodded, grabbing a spare pack and a spear. Until I tried out a sword again in private a weapon with reach was my best bet.

This was going to be so cool...