Adventures of (Lady) Malekia of Lomar by wbjoe

(Modified slightly to fit with events on 5/1/11)

Malekia straightened her tunic as she approached the Kalamen guard. “Who goes there?” sounded the guard.
“Ach,” she groaned to herself, “a new one, again…”
“Lady Malekia, Corporal of Gryphon Company, Order of Her Royal Majesty’s Bard’s Song,” she batted her eyes as she draped her cloak off to the side to allow her uniform to show.
“Cor blimey! A bleedin’ drow? Inna service of ‘is ‘ighness the king? Ooh, that’s a good one there, missy” The guard pointed his weapon at her. “And just where were you planning on taking them, off to the slavers?"

Malekia motioned toward the dozen small children behind her. “Really, laddie, I’m takin’ them to the library.” A small bald child latched himself to Malekia’s leg. “Don’t hurt Mumma,” he cried.
“Don’t hurt Miss Molly!” cried the other children as they surrounded her.
Malekia reached down to pick up Junior, and balancing him on her hip, said,
“It’s all right wee ones, the nice man is going to let us go to read some books today, aren’t ye lad?”
Malekia smiled as the guard stepped back and resumed his post, then she resumed walking with the children. “What shall we read today?” she asked them, “How about ‘Puff the Magic Dragon’?”

It had been three years since Gryphon Company had been disbanded.
While Malekia had enjoyed a comfortable semi-celebrity status as a Gryphon, and when her exploits were fresh in people’s minds, Lomarians would look past her skin and hair color to see her uniform. But as time passed and more new guards filled the ranks, less people recognized her and she had to face more and more challenges within Kalamen. People in the market, the mission and the library, places she frequented, were still quick to defend her and take responsibility for her, but her sense of belonging was beginning to fade.

She missed her friends, Baelin, Kirshen, Lieutenant Liganna, Tor the drinker…and of course, Quigley. At first, her reaction to his brash rudeness was to put him in his place as any drow woman should a male. But Quigley was unlike any male Malekia had known; he fed off her anger and provoked her even more. She soon grew fond and even looked forward to his constant harassment, lechery and groping. After years of being shunned, threatened and attacked by surface dwellers for her heritage, Malekia basked in Quigley’s attention like a flower in the warm sun. Now she missed his gnomish pride, his fights with Baelin, his taunts and advances.

Junior was a constant reminder of Quigley, with his strong gnomish if rock-like features. But his skin was darker like hers, and sometimes Malekia would lose herself in the fantasy that Junior was their child. Malekia was the only mother that the little gnome had known, since she pulled him from the wreckage of the svirfneblin caravan. Malekia had the satisfaction of avenging his parents, but was left wishing she had studied clerical spells as well since she could do nothing else for them. Since then she spent most of her days caring for the tiny gnome baby and many orphans of Kalamen. But Junior was Malekia’s favorite, and when he called her “Mumma,” she would cry and hug him, but wouldn’t correct him. Her motherly instincts kicking in, Malekia read every book in the library about gnomes so she could raise Junior to be a proper gnomish lad.

Malekia had asked merchants about the gnome city in the north, but according to the rumors, it would probably be too dangerous for her to take the child back to his people. So she chose raising the little gnome in Kalamen over taking him to a near certain death in the north woods somewhere. And as much as she wanted to see Quigley, Malekia wondered what she would say to him when she showed up in his hometown with an orphan deep gnome child named Quigley Furfoot Jr.
“Hullo, Quigley…I remember you telling me about yuir town and I always wanted to see it some day…Oh, here’s a child I named after you…he’s not yours…or mine…”
or “Well, lad, I couldn’t very well ask the parents because they were dead, and Quigley was the only gnomish name I knew…I missed you…and there he was…”
or “maybe I’m just a psycho hose beast and there’s a reason the black widow spider is a symbol of my culture…aye…(awkward laugh)”
Malekia found herself blushing at the very thought of facing the handsome gnome.

“Miss Molly?” asked one of the children. Malekia was brought back to reality, “Oh, I’m sorry, Sophie, where were we?”
“The brave drow priestess was about to break the spell by kissing the sleeping gnome prince!” piped Junior.
“Oh...aye, that’s right…” stammered Malekia, wondering how much of her daydream had colored her storytelling.
“…and the wee prince became the general for House Nalfein, as consort to Grand Matron Vierna and they ruled the Underdark happily together for the rest of their days..The End”
“I love that story, Mumma” said Junior. “But it was different from last time!” countered Sophie.
“Aye, well…how about another story then….”

After reading, Malekia led the children to the fountain to play. She told the children, “After this wee ones, we’re off to the museum; Mister Regus there has an art lesson for you in one of the classrooms!” As she looked up towards the castle, Malekia couldn’t help but notice the flashing light inside. Malekia quickened her pace to the museum. Once she found Regus Morgain, the curator, she turned to the children saying, “Lookee here wee ones, here’s Mister Regus! Miss Molly is off to get a treat: only lads and lasses that are on their best behavior will get one. Bye now!” And before Regus could object, Malekia dashed towards the castle…

A cold wind began to blow, and Malekia pulled her cloak about her. The cloak was a symbol of perhaps not only the Queen’s gratitude for helping rescue her, but also of the King’s trust. Malekia had joined the King’s army for the pay, but along the way, she found friends, a home and even a noble title: she had kept a low profile for years of hiding after fleeing the Underdark, it was nice to belong now.
“I will see the King,” she told the castle guard.
“Afraid ye can’t do that, m’lady,” refused the guard. “In a right bloody state of E-mergency, we are, ‘ere. Even ‘er Royal ‘ighness the Queen and alla Lords o’ the city-states ‘ave all been E-vacky-waited. No one goes in, not even yer drowy witchiness..”
“Watch it, Bill,” Malekia smiled; this guard she knew well. “And what of the citizens of Kalamen, or Lomar, even? What are they to do?” Malekia asked.
“Carry on, I suppose,” replied Bill. “There’s been no announcement or warning. Keep it under yer hat, I guess. ”
“A wee bit odd, don’cha think? Look, Bill, if things are that dangerous, ye’ve got to take the orphans into the castle where it’s safe…”

Malekia arranged for the children to stay in a wing of the castle, then swung by the museum with a bushel of fresh apples from the market in time to save poor Regus from literally being painted into a corner. Malekia led the children to their “sleepover with the Royal Guards”, and tucked Junior and the others into bed. Then Malekia returned to face her closet.

As she opened it, the bow inside seemed to greet her, “Where have you been?”
“I have need of ye again,” she coaxed the bow, “I’ve been away, but perhaps this is the only path I may walk on…please walk with me again.”
As she placed the last of her equipment in her bags, she heard little footsteps coming her way. “Mumma, where are you going?” asked Junior.
Malekia knelt down next to the child and put her hand on his cheek. While the young deep gnome’s face appeared cold and rock-like, it was soft as her hand and she could feel the warmth deep under the skin.
“Mumma has to go to work, laddie…Mumma’s job is to protect wee ones like you, and I have to go away for a while. But Mumma is always thinkin’ of ye, wee lad, and before ye knows it, Mumma will be back.”
Malekia knew he wouldn’t quite understand, but she hugged Junior tight, walked him back to his bed, and read him his favorite bedtime story. As soon as she could see he was asleep, Malekia kissed him on the forehead and slipped away into the night.
“Sleep well, my wee gnome prince…” she whispered, and she was gone.

Re: Adventures of (Lady) Malekia of Lomar by wbjoe (google recovery)
« Reply #4 on: December 01, 2012, 04:49:42 PM »
Malekia was surprised to see the girl courier arrive with a delivery from Grugg. She had thought the promise to replace her sword with something else was probably a lie to trick her into giving up the sword. But Malekia was very pleased to find a nice sword in the package. “Cleansor, is that yuir name?” mumbled Malekia, barely noticing the arrival of the others.

Dargar had to be the oddest-looking dwarf Malekia had ever seen. Malekia reminded herself that just like deep gnomes, dwarves have a rough exterior but…
She introduced herself and asked if he had something to drink. He offered her some of his dwarven brew. True to its maker, the dwarven brew had a rough palate but soon made her feel warm and cozy… Malekia struggled to focus as the drink’s power dulled her senses. The march to the ceremonial grounds was comfortably light, (she wandered off a few times) but Malekia was just beginning to sober up as the druids began chanting…

…

If a stone could scream, the petrified Malekia would. As the spell broke, the drow’s mind was consumed by one thing, “What has become of my son?” Had Junior waited for her, feeling abandoned, bitter since she had never returned? Had he grown, even died of old age while she had been a stone? The size of the tree made her heart sink. Would she ever see Junior again?

Someone suggested heading back to Alton, to see Leamay. To the Abyss with the elf who had sent them on this horrid errand! To Kalamen, to “check on the King.” Malekia was concerned with what had happened to the king as well, but Junior weighed more heavily on her heart. With every orc that showed up, Malekia impatiently spat, “Out of me way, ye blasted sack o’ sheep dung!” Her perception was so clouded that Malekia walked right into the ambush…

Wrenched back into the world of the living, Malekia coughed up blood as her wounds were magically healed. These orcs running rampant through Kalamen were tough, and she had to be alert lest she die again. Yet all thoughts of danger and ambushes were cast to the wind when Malekia finally entered Kalamen. She almost sprinted to the castle, flinging open doors, barely containing her panic in front of her compatriots. “Junior!” she called, scanning every stone figure… until finally, there he was, just as she remembered him.

“Nooo!” the scream burst from the depths of her soul as Malekia flung herself on the boy’s stone form. His beautiful rock-like features were now as hard as they always appeared, and Malekia could feel no warmth at all as she clutched him tightly, weeping.
“I weel find a way to save ye, wee one!” Malekia swore to herself.

Most of the others had moved on to the throne room to check on the king. A sympathetic Splinter had stayed behind, but even he advised her to move on. “I need a few more moments…” she told him. “I haven’t missed yuir whole life yet,” Malekia whispered to Junior’s petrified form. “But now that I’m back, I won’t rest until ye are restored, too.”

Everything she saw afterwards, the petrified king and queen, all the guards and citizens of Kalamen, Leamay all served to reinforce Malekia’s theory that all had been turned to stone at the same time as she and her companions. Time had stopped for Lomar, while orcs from outside had grown tougher and meaner. The inn at PortAlton offered little shelter, but her companions wasted no time in turning the bar furniture into a barricade.

Exhausted, Malekia miserably tried to rest, thinking “What are we to do?"