Forgotten Realms: Classic

Uktar 16

Isini batted open his eyes, widened them, and surveyed the room, mouth slightly open, with his typical, casually awe-stricken, demeanor. It appeared as though someone had tossed him and all his belongings into a corner. A guard was whistling nearby.

Isini held on to the iron bars and pressed his face into the space between them; “What happened?”

“Your… friends dropped you off at the hospital,” the guard replied.

Isini looked at the unkempt men in the other cells. “This is the hospital?”

“This is jail,” the guard replied.

“Oh,” said Isini, “how come?”

The guard glanced at Isini, lit a pipe, took a few sips, then went back to whistling. Isini scratched his head, and stared at his feet.

An odd band of miscreants had dropped off what they could only assume was Isini’s corpse at the local healer’s inn.

The healer waved some boiled hartshorn spirit under Isini’s nose. Isini shot up breathing heavily.

The healer shook his head; “remeber me?”

Isini nodded in shock. “Kinda.”

The healer put his spectacles back on and went back to reading a scroll. “Go drink some water,” he beckoned to the corner.

Isini walked over, overlooking the water basin, and picked up a jar of ether. He drank it deeply in big gulps, vomited, and continued this process until the contents of the jar were mostly on the floor. Isini began stumbling out the door. The healer shook his head slowly without looking up.

Isini stumbled to a popular tavern, where he saw the blurry outline of a lovely halfling woman that looked familiar to him. He approached her.

“Remember me?”
“Yes.” She brushed a strand of auburn hair out of her face.
“Where have you, have I been… been?”
“Everyone just assumed you had died,” she said without looking up from her meal.
“I did!”
“You’re about to.”

Insini looked at the barkeep; “I’ll have what the dwarves’ll have usually of the time.”

He picked up what looked like an animal bladder from a pile of jugs just below the lowest visible shelf, and poured a helping of the contents into a thimble-sized glass.

Isini smiled at the woman intently. She glanced at him while chewing a potato, then rolled her eyes.

Isini slid a candle between them, and lit it using magic while smiling intently and the woman and trying to keep his vision straight.

He lit the candle gently using magic, and raised his glass. The halfling woman reluctantly humored him, clinking glasses. Isini sipped, and immediately sneezed. The cloud of volatile vaporous alcohol blew into the candle, set the liquor shelf on fire, causing a few small explosions. He began flailing his arms as he slowly fell off the stool, appropriately sized for someone two and a half times his height. As he cascaded to the floor, he tried to catch himself, grabbing hold of air in his left hand, and the halfling’s tunic in his right hand. The garment ripped off the shapely body over which it had been draped, and fell to the ground with Isini, who saw a blurry, and now partially nude, figure, a wall of flames, and then a blue flash and blackness as his head cracked a tile on the stone floor.

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Santhil

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