Scimitars and Sorcery

Author: Socrates <alex_13045[at]msn.com>

Disclaimers: BTVS is owned by ME and Fox. The Forgotten Realms is property or TSR and Wizards of the Coast. The character depicted here is the creation of R.A Salvatore.

Summary: Sort of a take on the Halloween episode concept, but it goes from there.

Rating: PG-13

Authors note: This is a response to my own challenge, since no one ELSE wrote anything *grumbles*. Seriously people, any number of authors here could probably write this better then me. But alas, I'm forced to take the matter into my own hands. Be forewarned.


Previously on Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Xander stood in front of the mirror, eyeing his reflection intently. He shook his head at the absurdity of the idea, then chuckled and sighed in resignation. He had come this far, he might as well go through with it. He turned to the bed beside him and retrieved the leggings to the leather armour he had bough from Ethans costume shop. He still didn't understand how he had been able to afford it, but the shopkeeper had insisted he take the costume. He carefully slipped the leggings on over the cloth pants he wore and fastened them securely with their straps. Next, he retrieved the chest plate and, after some work, managed to get it fastened on correctly. After that came the bracers, which fitted on easily enough, followed by the cloth boots, which slid on comfortably.

Satisfied with his appearance, he grabbed a small kit from his dresser and proceeded to cover his face with the dark-purple makeup. He smiled as hew witnessed his vision come further into being. Only a few more pieces and the effect would be complete. A long, white wig covered his Brunette locks, followed by appropriately covered pointed ear extensions. Finally, sensing the transformation almost complete, he retrieved a leather belt from the bed, sporting two black scabbards, the handle of a sword protruding from each. He pulled each blade and examined them closely, for what had to be the thousandth time. Not able to afford the price of the actual replicas, he had been forced to carve them from wood, and had been quite pleased with the result. He swung both blades in wide lazy arcs, imagining the curved blades glimmering as if they were steel. Satisfied, he replaced the wooden blades in their sheaths and fastened the belt to his hips

Standing in front of the mirror, he marveled at his appearance, truly impressed at the overall result. "Only one last piece" he whispered, snatching an Onyx figurine from his dresser. "Com my friend, the night awaits." Smiling, he placed the statue in his pocked and strode confidently from the room.

*****

Willow gawked at the form before her, mesmerized by the transformation that had befallen her friend. "Xander?"

The slender figure shook his head and bowed before her. "Well met fair lady, I am Drizzt Do'Urden, Ranger and protector." He eyed he curiously for a few moments. "You do not recoil from me. Have you not heard of the Drow?"

Willow shook her head. "I've seen a lot worse" she replied. Then, seeing the hurt look on the Drow's face, she hastily added, "not that you're worse, or bad. What I mean to say is."

"The Dark-elf, formerly her friend, dismissed her apologies with a wave. "It is no worry. I accept the condemnations my race has earned."

Willow would have continued, but a figure appeared from the shadows, rushing toward them frantically. "Buffy", her friend called out, moving to meet the other girl. "Something's wrong." Once again Willow found her attempts at explanation cut short as the girl in Victorian dress took one look at the Drow, let out an earth shattering scream, then fainted.

*****

"Daemon", Drizzt snarled as he glared at Angel, his lavender eyes burning with hatred.

"You know of us?" the vampire questioned in curiosity.

"I know of your kind, vampire. Your kin is nearly as much of a menace as the orcs and goblins, a fact maintained only by your lesser numbers."

Orcs, goblins? Where was thing creature from.

*****

The Drow struggled fiercely against his captors, but the dark elves did not possess the strength of even humans, and the vampires magically enhanced grip proved unbreakable. He glared at the vampire, Spike, who loomed over the maiden, his claws digging into her throat. "You will not harm her!" the Drow shouted, lavender orbs burning bright with seething anger.

Spike turned to look at the struggling captive and shrugged. "And what are you going to do about it.

Inspiration struck the dark elf and he ceased his struggles, being careful to keep his movements to a minimum. "You wouldn't care to find out, I should think. My blades have cleaved through countless foes, and I doubt they would find any trouble slicing through your wicked flesh."

The bleached blonde demon let out a burst of laughter, thinking the strange creature to be quite mad. "Even if you're not blowing steam outta yer ass, it doesn't matter much. You have no weapons."

At this, Drizzt smiled, his hand closing on the figurine in hic pocket. "I have one." Saying this, he pulled his hand from his pocket and loosed the statue from his fingertips, watching as it fell to the ground "Guenhwyvar, come to me my shadow."

A black mist began to seep from around the figurine and everyone in the room except Drizzt recoiled in terror as great black panther materialized from the mist. Seeing its master in danger, the panther roared in anger and swatted at the vampires that held him, sending them flying back into the wall behind them. The great hunter quickly moved on, separating the monsters from their prey, but taking care not to harm them as it sensed its master did not want these ones injured.

Seeing that the situation has escalated out of his control and realizing that he had no desire to face a panther, let alone an enchanted one, Spike quickly released the trembling girl and fled, hoping to escape in the confusion.

The keen eyes and ears of the Drow sensed his escape though and Drizzt quickly retrieved one of his Scimtars from the ground where the table had dropped it. In a blur of motion, he pulled back and let fly. The deadly blade buzzed with the speed as it whirred through the air and slammed into the fleeing vampire, catching him right between the shoulder blades. With an ordinary word the wound would not have been close to fatal. But Icingdeath was no ordinary sword. The blade enchanted by powerful magics lived up to its name once again, as a surge of cold shot through into the vampire heart, freezing it. Spike clutched at his back as he stumbled against the door, icy tendrils of cold air flowing from his mouth as he struggled to catch his nonexistent breath.

The vampire would find a measure of luck this day though, as at this exact moment, in another part of town, Rupert Giles smashed the effigy of the goddess that had brought the spell about. In the blink of an eye, the blade buried in his back was transformed back into its true form.

A wooden blade!

The vampire lurched from the door into the night and those inside the warehouse hear the telltale explosion, followed by the sound of scattering dust.

Buffy, now herself again, glanced over at Xander and said the only thing that came to her mind.

"Nice throw."

*****

And now….

The figure tossed and turned in bed, finding no rest from the images that plagued it, It had been this way ever since the incident. Little remained of the memories, save for fleeting shadows. He knew the stories well enough though, had read them many times, a secret passion that even his best friend wasn't fully aware of. This was different though. When he thought of the stories, he felt like he was someone who had been those places and done those things, yet he couldn't remember doing so. Like an image of an image, imprinted in his mind and mocking him.

The images faded more and more with each passing day though, unlike the feelings, which seemed imbedded in his subconscious.

With a shrill cry, he shot from his tortured dreams into wakefulness. This couldn't go on. Something had to be done, or these fascinations would drive him made. He had to search out the truth to these images, separate the fact from the fiction. The worlds in hid mind couldn't simply be the daydreams of men. They were too real, too tangible, and yet just beyond his reach.

His jaw set in determination. There were answers out there, and he meant to find them.

End

Sequel, maybe. If there is enough interest. In other words, tell me what you though. Like it or hate it.

A closing note: Events in this story don't quite match up to those in the episode. This is explained as being because of the alterations, so anything that doesn't match up, that's why.