Winthrop regarded my attempts to hoist the bag of 2140 gold coins, and shook his head. "Now, that won't do. Bag's as big as yer head."
"I… can manage!" I huffed. Come hell or highwater, this money was mine. Mine! My precious…
He laughed at patted the table counter. "Put 'er here, I got a better solution for ya."
I hoisted the bag of coin above my head on onto the counter. Winthrop on his part produced another bag of his own which chinked. From it, he produced…
"A silver piece?" I said, incredulous.
"Platinum, Sonny boy," Winthrop corrected, "Ain't got a chance to use this stuff me-self. Ain't a surprise yer not laid yer eyes on one. A platinum piece trades fer 10 gold, so we can cut yer load a lot."
The two of us counted out platinum coins to replace my gold pieces. "Another thing lad, what ye just did, trade yer gems for gold, that's a mistake. Gems weigh less than gold but trade fer much more. Adventurers like 'ta keep their money as gemstones while they travel. Trade in when they wanna buy somethin'."
I blinked. But, that's not how it's done in the computer game? The in-game gold doesn't have weight… oh. Actually living in the world complicates even the simplest stuff, huh? There are logistical concerns even for carrying around money. How troublesome.
I obediently nodded in understanding.
"If ye have a town or city with really big stores, ye can ask one 'o them snobs 'ta store money for ye. Keep a running tab for yer expanses around town," Winthrop continued, "Assuming ye really get into that much money, that is."
Fuller had given me an unidentified magical dagger, which I knew was actually a +1 dagger. Almost made me consider going for a dagger build rather than quarterstaff. Not that I could change my mind now. I also had 3 healing potions, a Potion of Clarity as well. After some fiddling, I managed to summon up my Record to check on my experience points progress: 227 in fighter, 227 in thief. Since I was a fighter/thief multiclass, my experience points are divided out equally to both classes. Which meant I earned 454 experience just in the prologue. Not too shabby. Probably could have gotten more if I bothered doing the training with the Gate Warden, but I really couldn't be.
Time to hit the road.
As I made my way to the front of the main keep where Gorion was waiting for me, I felt some sort of pang around my chest. Memories surfaced in the back of my mind, of happier days spent on studies, chores, playing, dreaming of adventures. Meeting sages and wizards from around Faerun who were supposed to be these big shots.
How odd. These memories were not from my previous life and somehow came with me. I know everything Sonny knows, and Sonny knows everything I know. He is the human who died in the plane crash and transmigrated to another world, and I am the halfling who dreamed of adventure outside of Candlekeep. But now that we were leaving, knowing once we leave it would no longer be my home, that Sonny felt pangs of regret and longing. And that Sonny was me.
Totally not how I imagined transmigration to go. I did not notice it before but I've actually become some sort of amalgamation of two different people. Not that I mind. I'm still just me, after all, whatever me is.
Those thoughts came to ahead when I saw Gorion, the ol' fiddle faddle, on the steps of Candlekeep castle. Gorion, the man who fostered me all these years, fed me as a child, tutored me on the outside world, read to me stories of grand adventures by my bed. Whatever my life was before, whatever happened amongst dead gods in the past, this was my father here in this world. My real father who loved me.
And he was going to die.
"Oh, my child. I am glad I have found you," Gorion started to say. His eyes widened. "Wait, what's wrong? Why are you crying?"
"I'm not," I replied, holding back a sniffle, "I'm not crying. I, just something got in my eye."
Gorion leaned down, and gestured for me to come forward like he always did. I complied, and he gave me a big hug. "I know it's very sudden and my behaviour lately must have worried you further. But it's going to be alright. Remember all those wonderful adventures you craved? We're going to have start our own adventure, from here on out. And I'll be there to guide you and keep you safe, every step of the way."
No, I'll have those adventures. You won't. As soon as we step out, you meet your end.
Gorion was a powerful mage, and the thought of getting a free ride by riding on his coattails was enticing. But it was more than that. I just didn't want him to die. Not him. Not for me.
"Can we, can we not go?" I asked, "We will face whatever threat there is here, together. This is our home. What better place could there be?"
I couldn't actually change the events that was going to happen. I just need to play the game. I've done it a hundred times, I could do it this time. We won't actually survive if we stayed in Candlekeep anyway. I knew all this. I KNEW it.
But maybe, just maybe, I was wrong? What if I could prevent the horrible events that were about to occur?
I had to try.
Gorion patted the back of my head. "Candlekeep is indeed a formidable obstacle for ne'er-do-wells, but it is not insurmountable. Alas, I don't know where we will go yet. All that is certain is that we will be far safer on the move."
"What if one of us dies? What if you die?"
Gorion's hand tensed. His whole body did, in fact. "Just where did that come from?" He held me by the arms, drew me back and looked at me with questioning yet somewhat bemused eyes. "Did you read the letter on my desk?"
I pointed to the hedge past the fountains. "Imoen read it."
An 'eeep!' sound was let out from the direction I was pointing, then a flash of pink zipped away.
Gorion gawked at the bush rustling from Imoen's passage, just only now realising Imoen was watching us in secret. He placed a hand on his face. "What am I to do with you kids?"
"We're adults, not kids. We are both just a little short."
"You're all still kids to me. Doesn't matter if you're two-feet tall or seven," Gorion laughed, "Kids with fast hands, and feet, who keep me on my toes. Speaking of which-"
He drew in closer to me and asked conspiratorially, "- just how much did you manage to scrounge up this time?"
Ahhh, yes. I'm Sonny and Sonny is me, so Sonny has always been like this. And I know that Gorion knows me very well. No point denying it then. "Uh… 2140 gold. Winthrop helped me convert it to platinum pieces though."
Gorion's mouth made a big 'O'.
"Two thousand and what? And Winthrop… he, he helped?" Lightning crackled around Gorion, his long hair and beard standing on end. "Please wait here, my child. He and I will have WORDS."
Whoooo. This was a LOT messier than it was in the game.
Normally in the game, Gorion would lead me onwards through the night. Instead, I was leading him through the darkness, pulling him forward by the hand, looking this way and that. Avoiding a particular circle of rocks.
"My child, I know I said we should hurry but this is getting ridiculous! Neither of us can see in the dark. It would do us no good to fall into a ditch in our travels."
From Gorion's point of view, he saw his beloved child driving on with a fury he had never seen before. What was the source of this determination? What was the cause for that reaction Sonny had earlier at the keep?
Gorion didn't get to his age for lack of foresight.
"Child, stop," Gorion said in his own certain way.
Sonny did indeed stop. He knew that tone in Gorion's voice too well. It meant that things had gotten serious and he needed to listen. But Sonny refused to turn to look at him.
"Earlier, you asked me what you should do if I were to… if we were to become separated, it is imperative that you make your way to the Friendly Arm Inn. There you will meet Khalid and Jaheira. They have long been my friends, and you can trust them."
Sonny still didn't look behind. "Friendly Arm Inn. Meet Khalid and Jaheira. Got it," he said, and tugged forward. "Let's keep going."
"I'm not done," Gorion tugged back. "You know a lot more than you're letting on, that much is clear. For my part, I'm sorry I couldn't have told you earlier. I will explain everything as soon as there is time."
"I don't need it," Sonny snapped back. "We just need to move. Now."
"Of course. Lead-" Gorion's eyes narrowed. "Wait. Something is wrong. We are in an ambush. Prepare yourself"
A tall, imposing armoured figure emerged from the shadows, his helmet adorned with large horns and faceplate filled with terrible, sharp teeth. He was accompanied by two ogres, a few thugs, and a woman in black full plate plate mail in the back. From her flail and positioning, Gorion was guessing she was a cleric. One who served a dark god, no doubt.
So, this is where the child saw my end, Gorion mused, considering the opposition. I'm not impressed.
"You're perceptive for an old man. Managed to evade us until now," the armoured figure said. He looked downwards towards Sonny, noticing who was leading who. "Or perhaps, that much was thanks to another."
The armoured figure looked to Gorion again. "You know why I'm here. Hand over your ward and no one will be hurt. If you resist, it shall be a waste of your life."
Gorion stepped ahead of Sonny. "You're a fool if you believe I would trust your benevolence. Step aside and you and your lackeys will be unhurt."
It was hard to see the face of the armoured man but Gorion could hear the steel in his voice. "I'm sorry that you feel that way, old man."
But Gorion's smiled faltered when the thugs raised their bows, and aimed not at him, but at Sonny. Two arrows flashing with unnatural light sped through the night, one glancing the young halfling across the arm. It barely touched the child, but the wound was burned with energy.
Even the lackeys are armed with enchanted arrows?!? Gorion realised in horror for badly he had underestimated his opponents. The child, he is in danger! "Run, child! Get out of here!"
But the child still did not move.
"GO!" Gorion commanded.
Only then did the child retreat, without looking back.
Gorion fought for his life against superior numbers. The decisions he made in his life had led him to this point. Perhaps, his final point. He had given up everything for the child. But he couldn't help but give a little more, a thought for the fate of the one who was leaving him behind. Godspeed, child. From here on out, you choose your own path forward.
I ran, the pain in my arm was fleeting compared to the bitter pang in my heart. Not looking back. I knew the ending long before I heard the final cry of agony.
I had watched Gorion die far too many times. Over, and over, and over again. This time was different. This time, he was my father. MY father.
In the end, avoiding what was fated, perhaps scripted, was not possible.
The land of Faerun lost more than a champion for justice and all that is good that night. Faerun lost a loving father. It lost a good man.
He WILL be avenged.