(A/N: There's no good excuse for this story, but... I had writer's block. I was bored. Forgive me... especially all you Valen fans. I will not apologize for the monster joke, however... the mind flayers greatly disappointed me. If you haven't visited NWVault, you might not get some of the jokes.
Disclaimer: Would BioWare write this? No. No, they would not. I don't own Neverwinter Nights.)
A DARK SHADOWY HEART AND STUFF
"I'm sorry, Valen," Valen's doctor informed solemnly, that fateful day in the hospital. "But you have been diagnosed with..." For drama's sake, the doctor let the sentence dangle.
"What is it, doctor?" Valen cried, a beautiful female PC clinging to his arm.
"You have chronic constipation," the doctor finished.
"Well, Deekin could tells you that," Deekin said matter-of-factly. Valen's eyes blazed red as he glared at the impertinent kobold; the female PC swooned at this show of unadultered Valenness, without releasing her grip on the tiefling in question.
"How can it be cured?" Valen quested desperately.
"Well, this is the Middle Ages," the doctor began, "so just climb into this iron maiden here and..." The doctor placed an orange in the iron maiden and closed it, opening it reveal that the orange had been completely pulverized. Collecting the juice in a cup, the doctor added, "As a bonus, it doubles as a juicer!" The doctor took a sip. "Mmmm! Beats Sunny D!"
"Is there... an alternative?" Valen asked, somewhat dejected. "I'd rather not be orange juice."
"You could just rub a kobold on your armpit," the doctor shrugged, sipping the juice.
"Much better!" Valen agreed, looking around. "Where did that kobold go..." But alas, Deekin was already twenty miles away and still running. Valen groaned.
"NOW how am I going to cure my chronic constipation?" he moaned.
"Oooh! Groaning AND moaning! Schmexay!" the female PC drooled, reviving only to swoon again.
"There is only one other way. You must go on a long and dangerous adventure to find the rare and mysterious artifact called the Bodily Excretion of Random Deity," the doctor told Valen.
"How romantic!" the female PC sighed, repeating the wake-up-and-swoon process.
"I will do as I must," Valen said dramatically, hair blowing in the wind. The female PC woke up and swooned five times in a row as the doctor complained about the draft and shut the window. So, Valen and the female PC went off on another dangerous quest, with a shriveled-up plotline and cheap, blocky monsters. During the duration of this adventure, Valen wooed the female PC with no less than six linear, majorly-platonic "romantic" conversations with no voice-overs. And they all worked.
"Oh, Valen! You have such a way with words," the PC gushed, blushing.
"My mother was a skanky ho, I was a thieving rat fink of a kid and I spent most of my life ripping people limb from limb," Valen cooed softly, remembering to tenderly tack on, "my love." The PC swooned, woke up and swooned eight times in all. It would have been nine, but a random monster attacked. The monster was too cheaply rendered to clearly make out... but it might have been an ocelot. Its portrait looked more like a dancing crocodile, though. At any rate, the PC quickly disposed of the beast with a simple "left-click + Y" spell, and sighed wistfully, desperately wishing that BioWare wasn't so lazy so she could deliver unto Valen a passionate kiss. But she was in luck-NWVault had a hak for passionate kissing! After eight hours of downloading, and eight hours more of virulent cussing on part of the PC as she tried to locate the correct folder to place the hak, she finally did it.
"The hak goes in the hak folder!" she cried triumphanty. "Who knew? Now gimme a kiss!" She pulled Valen into a romantic smooch, then looked up, then looked down. "Uhh... I think something went wrong with the hak. Are you supposed to be a dancing penguin, Valen dear?" Somewhere, the hak's creator was laughing very, very hard.
Fortunately, the female PC had a former save, and quickly loaded it up. Unfortunately, it had been quite some time since she last saved.
"I just have a little to play through, is all," the female PC laughed nervously, though visibly disconcerted. "Nothing to worry about..."
"FirstName! Neverwinter is in danger! Locate the four Waterdhavian creatures or we're all DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMED!" Aribeth shrieked. "Now allow me to sit on my ass and jiggle in my armor here in this temple while you run around the accordingly numbered sections of Neverwinter." Aribeth broke off the finger of a roasted corpse, doused it in BBQ sauce and snacked on it. "Mmm, honey-flavored!"
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-" the female PC started to scream, but was cut off as the game crashed. And the moral of this story is to save your game every ten seconds OR ELSE.
THE END
(It's the end! Hopefully. I may be bored again. I can't make any guarantees.)