Buttsworth: Wearer of the Big Metal Unit (fan-story)

[HJass]

He was an odd little gnome. Very bright, a determined reader, and a fanatical collector.

Gorion had raised him well, as a father would raise a child. He grew up with Imoen and loved her like a sister. Gorion was an excellent father figure, even for a gnomish child. He had raised him well and good.
But...
For some reason Gorion had chosen to give him a name... Gorion had thought long and hard, he had taken a full three days to pick a name for this growing child. During this time it was said that he had had massive headaches, a temper, and a truly odd look in his eye. Once the three days had passed Gorion had burst from his study looking energetic and pleased. He gave the gnomish child a name, he had christened him...

Buttsworth

Yes, to everyones confusion Gorion had chosen to name his adopted son Buttsworth. BUTT(s)WORTH was certainly not one of the most common names in all of the realms.
When asked why Buttsworth took three days to come up with the man would look distressed and attempt to break off the conversation at all cost.

Thus no one asked.

Thus no one cared.

Thus the story, as you know it, began.

But the story as you know it, is a bit different here.


This is the tale of Buttsworth: Wearer of the Big Metal Unit.
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Buttsworth looked to the upper levels of the Friendly Arm Inn, he knew that the innkeeper was a jolly sort. So he had no intention to rob the inn itself. But he also knew that a "nobleman" had spilled his drink on Imoen in a drunken stupor, called his whole party "orcs" and had had the innkeeper put the drink on Buttsworth's tab.
Buttsworth had told the innkeeper that he did not want trouble and that he would pay the bill for a simple drink. Buttsworth didn't want trouble indeed, stealing the mans money would be no trouble.
He had waited for Khalid, Jaheira, and Imoen to retire to their rooms before he made his move.
Buttsworth krept up the stairs to the nobility rooms, his fingers ready for a good snatch. He located the "nobleman's" room and lockpicked the door, had krept through the shadows to the mans purse, had stolen the purse, and had made his way back out in under a minute. He was very proud of his talents as a thief.
As he made his way back to his room he was suddenly stopped by another nobleman, he was caught!
"Ah you there! I see you took that mans clothing, you must be the cleaner. Do take these pants down to the cleaners would you? I want them to shine like......gold."
Buttsworth cursed himself for allowing himself to be seen, he had to play along with the man so as to not arouse suspition.
"Er, of course sir right down to--" Buttsworth caught his breath as he was handed the pants. They shimmered like gold, he wondered if they were, in fact, gold.
"Uh, yes, I will, er, take these to the cleaners as well, erm, sir!"
"See that you do... Try to get them back by tonight eh? Your supposedly a fast cleaning service."
"Yes sir! When tipped of course."
"Yes, tipped, I'll tip you when I see the job you have done."
Buttsworth went back to his room for about ten minutes and returned, almost. Something stopped him, something told him not to complete this quest, something deep inside him told him to keep those...those...pantaloons.

He shrugged it off and placed the pantaloons in his pack with the rest, nobility needs not pants, he thought, just pockets.
Something disturbed him about his homourous pants joke.


Buttsworth goes on to Baldurs Gate in his great quest.
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Buttsworth flicked a coin into an outstretched beggars hand, it wasn't his money anyway. As he walked through the crowded streets of Baldurs Gate he noticed a man approaching him and his group.
"Hold up here group, lets see what this guy has to sa--"
RUN YOU FOOL!
Buttsworth was shot back, a message rang through his very skull.
GO! GO! GO! GET OUT! RUN!
Buttsworth could sense his legs begin to move, quickly. He sensed a horrible fear in the pit of his heart, he knew he had to run, but not why.
"Group! MOVE!"
Buttsworth barged through the oncoming crowds, tossing them aside as he ran full on in the other direction as far as he could from this horrible threat.
He didn't know how long he ran, but when he was done he was at the clear other end of Baldurs Gate.
His eyes scanned over the crowds,as he tried to determine whether the man was pursuing him. He was not. The adrenaline surge ran out, his stomach turned, and he threw up.
Buttsworth goes on to defeat Sarevok and prevent war.
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A bald man was speaking to him, he was a very intimidating bald man.
"You are awake, it is time for more...experimen--" The man peered at him suddenly. "What, are these?!" The man held a pair of golden pantaloons bunched up in his left hand. "These pantaloo-- these pants are impervious to my attempts at identification! These things mock me! Where did you find these?! Answer m--"
The man shook his head.
"From the begining....It is time for more...experiments."
The man raised a hand and spoke a word of magic.
"Wake up you!"

Buttsworth realized that he was, in fact, still alive.

After a quick talk with Imoen he freed two more of his once group of four. And moved on, unknowing where he was or why he was there. As he moved with his group he stopped, suddenly, and turned. His eyes tranfixed on a painting at the wall. A quick tug revealed it to be fake, a lockpick to the side clicked it open, a trap hit him in the face, knocking him back, inside were his treasured golden pantaloons.


Buttsworth goes on to escape and begin a journey anew.
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Bah! WHAT USE ARE YOU?! WHY DO I CARRY YOU?!"
The gnomish theif/illusionist, Buttsworth, was not having a good day. His sleep was shrouded with dreams, dreams of his taint that was the child of bhaal inside of himself. But these dreams themselves could not, block out the dreams of the pantaloon collection stashed in his pocket. The golden pantaloons had driven him again, driven him to sell a woman for ransom, the things were controlling him ever since he had attempted identification of the pantaloons. They had driven him to ransom a woman for a pair of silver pantaloons, and the driving force was only stronger now.
"I DO NOT NEED YOU!!!"
"BEGONE!"
Buttsworth flung the tangled wad of silver and gold fabric into the ditch, content to never see them again.

Buttsworth moves on to Spellhold to rescue Imoen.
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This is Wanev. He used to be the former warden around here, but years of magical energy, corrupt magical energy, eventually drove him mad."
The man was quite clearly insane, his eyes darted around like something possessed.
"He has seemed to have taken to writing once more. A passtime he was once estemed for by scholars around the globe."
Wanev's eyes suddenly stopped in a lock in Buttsworth's own. The man reached a hand into the folds of his robe and removed a small parchment.
"You like to read? Yes? You like to read this?"
Buttsworth examined the parchment. The man behind him gave it a small glance.
"As you can see, it is not one of his greater talents anymore, it is quite illegible as you can see."
Buttsworth nodded, it was quite clearly scribble. Or was it...
Buttsworth could suddenly see it in an all new light. It was clear to him suddenly. What was written, anyway, the words were still quite unsensical. One word shown out to him in particular...
Pantaloons.
A word he hoped to forget! He gasped and dropped the parchment as he stumbled back.
Wanev's eyes lit up with delight, "Aha! You can read it, no? Erm..." Wanev leaned down as to help the gnome up, "You read this as well right?"
Buttsworth felt a slip of paper slide into his sleeve.
"Ah, you do seem to be exited poor Wanev here, let us move on."

Buttsworth rescues Imoen, makes his way through the underdark, and defeats Bohdi.
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It was clear, it was all clear to him now. He was meant to keep the pantaloons. The slip of paper hastily scribbled by a raving lunatic had told him quite unclearly,
"Keep the pantaloons, always keep the pantaloons."

It was obvious that only good could possibly come of this. He found the two sets of pristine legwear just as he had left them. Scooping them up he pocketed them quickly and proceded onward on his journey.


Buttsworth procedes to defeat Irenicus twice, and move on. Where he defeats Gromnir and Sendai.
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We found an identify scroll, now I can find out all about my dagger!"
Buttsworth was unsure what the three lads were about, but somehow he could sense that they were somehow... mocking him.

"We found this!"

Buttsworth was handed the bronze pantaletes. His knees quaked and gave way. He fell to the ground.

He was nearly finished.

Buttsworth comes across a small magic shop.
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"Yes, you see... you don't have what I can work wi--" The fellow gnome stopped, "You have a set of golden pantaloons! And silver! and bronze! My goodness! We have a complete set! Just allow me to place these in my machine."
An hour later the machine was finished, out rolled a full suit of armor the size of an iron golem.

"Haha! It worked! Now the gnomes back at college can stop laughing at me! Haha! Pants! Pants! Pants!"
The gnome rushed out the door, probably toward his foolish college cohorts.
Buttsworth turned to the suit. It was ready, it was over, it was very comfortable. It retained its comfort as he barely felt Balthazar break his fists against his unbreakable shell, he laughed as he charred Mellisan with the big metal rod.


He chose to keep his mortallity, he was immortal enough as it was.
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The great order of demons, had unleashed a curse worse then they had ever unleashed before. A curse more horrible than Torrasque, more horrible then they had ever thought up. They laughed, not even Ao could sense the power of the "pantaloons".
No artifact had ever contained the true essence of madness the way the Big Metal Unit did.

The curse was so horrible, that the demons knew not even of its menace. For the ones that had forged the items, had gone mad.

The planetar that had attempted to remove the golden pantaloons from Buttsworth's possesion had taken to long, and he had been struck from existence.

The mage they had channeled a message through, was dead.

The gnome that had assembled the Big Metal Unit, had lost his mind.

Nothing was safe from the menace now.

It was not good.

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Buttsworth, child of Bhall, was nothing. He had been been caught full on by the pantaloons menace. He had suffered a horrible fate. He sat there, in his small cell in Spellhold, an incredibly powerful archmage, beaten into madness by something more horrible then anything that ever was.
Imoen would come to see him once in a while. But she would leave every time with a tear in her eye.

It was truly good fortune for all that exists that he had chosen mortality. A god infested by the menace was not a good thing.

Elminster had passed by at one time to see him, what he saw horrified him. Buttsworth simply sat there, babbling uninteligably about pantaloons. Elminster could only fear the fate of the world, and hope beyond hope...

For a hope.

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This is the story of one of my many characters: Buttsworth, (Butts-worth). As you might tell by the story he also legitamately discovered the Big Metal Unit and it was transfixed into his character profile. He was a chaotic good gnome thief in the begining of BG1, by the end of BG2:ToB he was Chaotic Neutral and a thief/mage.
He went loony.

[Doltan]

*applaud* Aram!

[Musashi Miyamoto]

Ah. good story