CHAPTER 3
Of Dreams and Reminders
It has been three days since Imoen had set foot on the road away from Candlekeep. It was the middle of fall, and already the leaves of the trees have grown to their aging, brownish color, and the wild grasses were already growing old with light browned age. The breeze was a bit too cool, stinging lightly on the young mage’s face. Imoen had almost seen the slight sign of winter when scarce snowflakes fell slowly on the ground and melted on the surface.
The young mage was following the road to Cloakwood town, where her brother was last rumored to reside in. She had no clue to what Locke’s purpose may be, however she could only fall back on the “news” that she had received from dear ol’ PuffGuts…
Candlekeep Inn
“Why Imoen! My sneaky little lass! How fares ya this time of day,” Puffguts, or Winthrop gladly belted out when he saw his little favorite girl.
“Heya Puff…er I mean Winthrop! How’s things going in the Inn,” Imoen answered gleefully.
“So Imoen lass, what need ye be comin’ to ol’ Winthrop for, eh?”
“I’m going out for a trip Winthrop. I’ll need some supplies, provisions and the like. I have some coin if you need.”
“Going for a trip, aye? And what reason for ye to be wantin’ ta make this trip?”
“I’m going to visit my brother, or at least find him.”
“Find yer brother ‘aye? That Locke, boy was he a mighty lad when I remember, before all this bad business resulted on the departure of yer dear Gorion. Ah, but I shan’t dwell on such bad memories. You’re brother’s been makin’ a name for himself in the Realms I’ve heard. Oh yes my dear lass, Locke’s name been ringing for long distances throughout the towns! I’ve heard Locke the Mighty and Fearsome, and I’ve heard Locke the Great and Merciful! Aye, despite these dull and crumblin’ walls of Candlekeep (pardon me dear Aluando) fame breaches it this very instant! Aye, ye should be proud of ‘im!”
“Thanks Winthrop,” Imoen blushed. Despite Puffgut’s ramblings that might bore even the willow tree, she couldn’t help but feel proud of Locke. At least he is still out there doing good deeds for the Realms.
“But Winthrop, have you heard any rumors to the whereabouts of Locke?”
“OH SURE, why I’m glad ye asked!” Winthrop looked around for any eavesdropping folk then leaned towards Imoen and gave a serious and shady look.
“I’ve got me connections all right, and this is what I’ve heard. This is secret information, not a soul to anyone! A danger might befall if someone of dark character hears of it! The good people of the Sword Coast, unlike those lazy Amn folks, have good eyes and ears; there be queer things brewing this very moment! I’ve heard and been notified from the most reliable of Sword Coast merchants and good messengers that a dark omen is coming soon. Dark creatures have increased their attacks against the good townspeople of the North, and not only that, I’ve heard rumors of a bandit army growing in numbers! Seems like someone or ‘something’ wants a repeat of this whole Iron Throne fiasco, not to mention news about a handful of supposed Bhaalspawns seeking to destroy the very fiber of the Balduric lands: Baldur’s Gate!”
“Wow… that’s a bit… far Winthrop. What about my brother?”
“Mind ye own tongue lass, ye know not what affairs ye dealing with here! Oh, and forgive me if I offended ya, no offense intended with the whole Bhaalspawn business. But what I am saying; ‘tis is true! A dark cloud looms over north, and it looms over the new town Cloakwood Town! That is where I’ve heard you’re brother is headed for, seeks to do away the black cloud! What a hero; Great Balduran and Gorion would’ve been proud of ‘im!”
Imoen wanted more confirmation about the location of her brother before she set off.
“Are you sure Winthrop? Are you sure that my brother is headed for Cloakwood Town?”
“Aye, I make no mistake dear Imoen! Where trouble rumbles from the soil of the Sword Coast, your brother will be there! Strange, dark things are happenin’ around the soil near Cloakwood Town so Locke will be there!”
“Thank you very much Winthrop! Please, could ya fetch me some supplies quickly? I have to get to my brother this instant! You can have as much coin as you need.”
“Aye no coin is needed lass. If your brother be that important then to him you must go to. Let Great Winthrop get you the provisions! Remember, Winthrop’s the best!”
“Thanks Winthrop, you are the BEST!”
With that said, Imoen had her backpack filled with Winthrop’s Rations of the Highest QualityTM, a well polished and sharpened short sword, and a short bow and a quiver of arrows. She had greatly thanks Puff... er …Winthrop for the goods and set out north for her brother.
Present
It had seemed such a long trek to Imoen; she hadn’t adventured for three years and it was making her hardiness to the road a bit rusty. Nights were uncomfortable and she had bare the cold as well as the rugged “cushion” of the outdoor surface. By the time she got to Beregost, to her frustration she had been delayed due to the suspicion of the Flaming Fist guards only when they had reconfirmed that she was “Imoen” and came from Candlekeep.
However, during her travels on the road, her thoughts were on Locke. She had series of worries about the state of her brother and how is she going deal with her brother’s reaction when she finally finds him. Her dreams were reminders of good memories of her and Locke playing games, talking, and time spent together, and the shocking discovery in Nashkel. No matter how pleasant her dreams were where, they somehow rewind back to Locke’s confession. The more she dwelled on the dreams, the more anxious and desire she felt in finding Locke and confronting her own truths and feelings.
Taking camp in Cloakwood Forest, when Imoen fell into slumber, the dream she was having is different than the others.
In a ripple and blur, her supposed vision focused on a seemly abandoned Candlekeep. It was like an alien sunset; bluish, purple rays occupied the skies and gave an ominous atmosphere to the surroundings of the fortress. As she turned around to her left, she had confronted herself; a copy of herself but in her adolescent years.
Before Imoen could say anything, the copy began to speak.
“Memories are wonderful things. They help serve as reminders of pleasant times that you once had. They were such pleasant times. You thought of the memories of when you had spent time with Locke were true. There was nothing bad or strange happening between the two of you. It was what it was: just brother and sister, friend and friend. It was true.”
Suddenly, Imoen was presented with very warm and happy images of memories of her and her brother talking walks in the garden and forest, chatting and pulling pranks on unsuspecting bullies, and looking at the stars and singing old childhood songs. Yes, they felt…no they were good and true.
The dream avatar then interrupted the memories, leaving Imoen disappointed as she desired to cling back to those times.
“Those memories were true because it was full of love, was it not? Even in this memory, can you still feel it to be true? Is it still love, or can it be the first pangs of attraction? You know that your bond with Locke is greater than what you think it is.”
Imoen was then transported to a memory, the time when she convinced her brother to take a bath with her. It was awkward when they entered the bath together for a long time since they were children. She could see Locke’s hard, toned body slightly marred with scars attained from combat. However, seeing him half naked and his handsome looks brought a blush to her face and she could feel her heart pumping. The same seemed mutual with Locke as he too was brought to a blush. She remembered herself asking him if she was pretty.
“I..I… oh goblinshit… Imoen… why ask me this,” Locke said with blushing embarrassment. He couldn’t believe that his sister asked him this.
“ C’mon lil’ brother! I wanna know! I mean you ARE my brother, so you should know.”
Locke gave a deep breath. “I hope she’s NOT gonna kill me,” he thought.
“Well… ahem… I…uh… I think that you are pretty… uh… in a way…”
“Waitaminute BIG BROTHER! In WHAT WAY?”
“Uh… I mean… you’re really attractive! It’s not hard seeing because… well… because you’ve got cute eyes.”
“Oh gods,” thought Locke. “That was really lame.”
However, Imoen’s reaction surprised him.
“Really? You think that I’m attractive?”
“Uh… yeah. That’s pretty much it. (Whew.)”
Imoen blushed harder and felt her heart go a bit faster. Still, she had to thank her brother’s words. It made her feel good about herself.
“Gee…. thanks lil’ brother.”
“Uh… no problem,” answered Locke. (What a save. But… she is cute.)
The entire bath time was spent talking about old times before their father Gorion’s death, and playing mock naval battles. The present Imoen smiled at the whole happiness of the memory but was further disappointed when it faded into the memory of herself scolding her brother for his “attraction.”
“That memory was true and you know it. You cannot deny the attraction for your brother because it was there. Your bond is with Locke is stronger than you’ve realized. The times you’ve spent, the hardships you have faced with your brother, and the countless times that Locke had sacrificed his life to save yours. Can you deny and say that the attraction you have for him is only a mere brother and sister relationship? I know because I can feel it. But can you admit it to yourself? You have almost broken that bond that both of you have shared and created because of “immorality.” But I wonder, is it enough reason to tear away this true love?”
Again she was thrust into a memory. She was now a teen of fourteen years and lying down from an injury caused by a crushing blow from a goblin. She expected a peaceful stroll in the woods and now she was lying in pain with her life at the hands of a goblinoid.
Then she heard a warcry.
“IMOEN!”
A rock flew from the left, striking head on the goblin. The monster faltered in pain, and Locke was there to parry it’s attack with his club, and struck down until the goblin was no more. He then put his arms around Imoen.
“Imoen! Are you okay? You’re bruised!”
“N…nothing… Locke… just got messed up a bit.”
“Hang on Imoen! I’m getting you to the nearest healer!”
While Locke carried her with his arms, she couldn’t deny the comfort she felt when she held close to his chest. His arms where pleasant and she held tightly to Locke. Imoen wanted this moment to last forever.
However, she was suddenly pulled away from the memory and could hear her adolescent copy yell, “No! Not the pain… not again! Locke, please help me!”
Then Imoen found herself repeating those words.
“Help me,” Imoen yelled when she was rudely awaken by the splash of ice-cold water. As she looked up, she found herself surround by very well-armed bandits, and herself, lying on the ground tied with her hands behind her back.
Then an armored figure of a man revealed himself from the midst of the bandits. He then spoke with a chilling tone.
“Welcome fellow Bhaalspawn. I’m afraid… we have come on a bad time.”
Imoen can almost see his cruel grin.