I was dreaming again.
I knew I was dreaming immediately, this time.
But what I saw wasn't the dream about Ulraunt meeting Gorion and telling my foster father that I'll be his death, as it should be in the game. This was a memory that was long lost to Sonny, that the vestige of the dead god somehow dug up.
But this time it wasn't Sonny's lost memory that was dug up and presented to me in a dream.
No, I dreamed of Earth. Of family. Of childhood.
I dreamed of my father. Not Bhaal, not Gorion, my father on Earth. I dreamed of him leaving to buy a pack of cigarettes. I dreamed of me, my mother and my sister waiting for him to come back. Waiting in vain.
I dreamed of my mother. She was so beautiful. Even while she hung from the rope by the neck from the living room fan.
I dreamed of my sister. She was beautiful too. At least she was until she started to inject herself with substances. In and out of rehab she went, me scolding her every time, she not listening. Until she took her last injection.
I dreamed of ambition, my own. To find my own way in life, alone if need be. Hard work in school led to scholarships, led to university life, led to career, led to success. I was a fund manager, and I was a self made man. Enjoying the riches of my labors, enjoying the company of a different woman every night.
I dreamed of a knock on the door. I remember the horror in my heart in recognition of the unkempt man in front of me.
"Sjoerd, it's me! Your father!"
"What do you want?"
"You owe me your life! Your whole being is BORROWED."
I dreamed of threats of blackmail. Of loss of stature and reputation.
I dreamed of inviting my father in. And closing the door behind me, peering outside to make sure no one saw him come in my house.
He never came out again.
A distant voice rang out in the dream. "Like father, like child."
I woke with a yell, predictably unrested.
---
The whole party had been resting in a cheap room in the Friendly Arm Inn together before we made the trip back to Baldur's Gate, so the whole party got a shock and got up to check on me.
I was shaking like a leaf. I could barely hear what they were saying, so they stayed with me until I could collect myself.
Once again, I felt new power resting in my soul. I could now Draw upon Holy Might, as if I were a cleric of the same level as my highest class. This was an incredibly potent ability for any warrior.
Right now however, I didn't feel like celebrating.
"Bad nightmare? This time seems like the worst," Imoen said, sitting next to me on the bed. "Can you tell us what it was?"
I hesitated. There's no way I could tell them, could I? Only one person knew what Earth was like.
My eyes wandered to Neera.
Neera looked right back at me, closed her eyes, took a deep breath. "Okay, I'm going to have to ask everyone else to leave the room. I can't explain why. Sorry."
Jaheira scowled, until her eyes met mine. "Is that what you want, Sonny?"
I nodded slowly.
Everyone left me and Neera alone in the room to have some supper downstairs.
"So, what did you dream about? Take your time," Neera said gently.
---
After I was done with my story, I closed with the words, "So you see Neera, I'm a murderer. I was always a murderer, even before I came to Faerun."
Neera cocked her head to the side. "...that's it? I mean, I'm sorry about your mother and your sister. But the ending was so anti-climatic. Don't see what's there to wake up screaming about."
I stared at Neera in shock. "Bloody hell, Neera. I just got back my memories, and remembered I killed my own father!"
"But, like, he deserved it? I certainly think so," Neera said, cocking her head the other way. "I really don't see what the big issue is. We've killed for less, many times over. So good for you."
"Good for me? What? I- ...huh."
Right. We're not on Earth right now. Sure, killing one's own father was something super scandalous to do back there. But in the wild, wild west of the Forgotten Realms? Killing one's own father for leaving the family destitute and was now trying to blackmail them was just Tuesday.
Neera in particular wasn't particularly bothered. She wasn't exactly the judgey, moralizing type. I think perhaps Keldorn would have had a VERY different reaction. Or Khalid, Imoen, Atjantis, Yeslick, Garrick, Mazzy, Kivan... gosh, the whole good aligned cast would be aghast.
"So you see Neera, I'm a murderer. Oh noes!" Neera said, mocking the serious way I said it earlier.
Ack. "Staaahp."
"Really, the thing that shocked me most was your name," Neera said, a slight smile forming on her mouth. "Are you kidding me? Your name was Short?"
...what? "My name isn't short, it's-"
Horror dawned on me. "Sjoerd! My name was Sjoerd! It's Dutch, I'm Dutch," I insisted. "It ends in a 'd' sound, not 't'! Sjoerd! "
"That's what I said. Short. Wow," Neera snorted. "I can't believe your old name matches you so well even now."
"URRRRRGGHHH! I'm never confiding in you again!" I yelled, and buried my head in my pillow.
In spite of myself, I snorted with laughter into my pillow.
I turned around again. "Thanks Neera. I needed that."
Neera smiled back at me. "You're very welcome. Now, let's go downstairs to talk to the rest before they get the wrong idea about us."
---
Thankfully, we were not fugitives anywhere outside of the city limits. For now. That could change if Sarevok were to really become the Grand Duke.
Point being, we could enjoy a peaceful breakfast in the Friendly Arm Inn without fear of being arrested.
To my surprise, it didn't last. A halfling ran into the Friendly Arm Inn, and immediately honed in on me. "There you are!"
Seriously? Nobody should be looking for me here, at least not in the original game!
When the halfling ran over to me, I quietly reached down for the Dagger of Venom +2 hidden in my shoe. If it came down to it...
"I finally found you, champion! I'd been looking high and low in every major city!" the halfling man said, panting.
My hand moved away from my dagger. Somehow, I didn't sense any hostility from this guy. It's not everyday someone calls me a champion. "How can I help you?"
"Your presence is required in Gullykin, immediately! Yesterday even!" the halfling man explained. "Alvanhendar has asked for you. She's the priest of Yondalla, and she received a vision from our goddess. You must go right..."
The halfling eyed the breakfast spread on the table we were at. "...after breakfast!" he said, his eyes lighting up. "What's to eat? I'm starved!"
A truer halfling there never was, I mused.
The rest of the party glared at our guest who had invited himself to OUR breakfast, shocked by the audacity.
Really folks, you've BEEN to Gullykin.
---
Our trip to Baldur's Gate delayed, we rushed to Gullykin to speak to the priest of Yondalla, Alvanhendar at the "Temple of Yondalla and Alvanhendar's Fine Wines" at Gullykin.
Yes, that really is the name of the temple, in case you forgot. Because halflings.
Alvanhendar was grateful we made time in our "ever so important quest" (she even did the quotation marks gesture with her fingers) to seek her out. She banished everyone else in the party outside, and bid me to a private room to speak to me, uh, in private.
The room in question was simple enough, filled with wine barrels and the like, but it was also filled with a multitude of magic circles.
"What's going on here?" I asked, cautious.
"Protection from scrying," she said, pointing at the circles. "If you have any objects that protect you from divination, I'd to urge you to wear it yourself right now."
I did in fact have my Cloak of Non-detection in my pack. Not much, but I put it on.
Alvanhendar completed the magic circles, and all the surrounding sounds from the outside got cut out completely and suddenly. I imagined a bomb could strike the temple, and we wouldn't hear it.
"Again, what's this about?" I asked the priest.
She shrugged. "I'm just following orders. Goddess above wants a private audience with you, apparently."
Alvanhendar stepped into another circle, and froze in place.
I blinked. A magic circle of paralysis on herself? What was even going on?
"I'm what's going on," said a voice from below me.
I jumped away, dagger drawn, but saw nothing.
Nothing but my shadow.
A smile appeared on my shadow, somehow, and it waved at me. "No need for that, silly."
What did Alvanhendar say? Goddess above wanted a private audience?
I put away my dagger, and bowed. "Lady Yondalla, I presume? I'm so glad to meet you."
The smile in the shadow widened. "Close, yet very, very far. Try again, young halfling."
Huh? But we're in the Temple of Yondalla.
My eyes narrowed. "...Dallah Thaun?"
A halfling woman with dark hair and dark eyes emerged from my shadow. She wore a dark robes with a hood, and tossed a gold coin in one hand. "There you go. Took you long enough," Dallah Thaun said, laughing. "How have you enjoyed Faerun so far, Sonny?"
She did a little twirl. "Or should I call you Sjoerd?"