Crossover With Non-anime Series Fan Fiction / Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ The Wild Stallion and the Drow ❯ Prologue ( Prologue )

Standard disclaimer:  Ranma ½ is from the mind of Rumiko Takahashi, and distributed in the US by Viz.  The elven gods and other visitors from Toril are all from the equally fertile minds of Ed Greenwood and Jeff Grubb as well as all the other writers who work for TSR.  That means I don't own any of them, and are just perverting them for my enjoyment as well as yours, I hope. 

This story is a continuance based on Elle ½, an omake by Greg Sharp (AKA Metroanime), based on an idea he found at http://addventure.bast-enterprises.de

That's done, now on with the story

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The Wild Stallion and the Drow

Prologue

Standing in the shadows, a cloaked stranger stood watching Genma shove his son back into the pit.  He walked over and, from behind the overweight martial artist, asked, "Oh come now, the 'Catfist'?  Are you a moron or an idiot?"

Genma spun around, and said, "I'm an idiot!"  *Wait a minute.*

The stranger looked over the boy and seemed to see some that made him smile.  "If you want to train him in unbeatable martial arts, then give me a year with him."

"One week," Genma countered.

"Nine months."

"One month."

"Six months."

"Done," Genma agreed.  "Now about payment…"

The stranger pulled out a wad of yen notes as thick as a panda's paw.  "I'll give you this, if you add his engagement to my daughter."

Genma did a double take.  With that much in the stranger's hand, he'd be rich!  It wasn't like he hadn't done this before.  "Done.  My son is just five years old, though."

"Not a problem."  The stranger pulled out a pen and contract from within his cloak.  "Just sign here."  After a momentary hesitation, and numerous looks at the cash sitting on an old tree stump, Genma signed.  It wasn't like the future panda planned on keeping to the agreement.

Genma skimmed over the contract after signing. (Who ever said the Panda read anything?)  "This is your name?  It doesn't look Japanese."

Pulling his hood back, he agreed.   "Its not.  The name's Corellon Larethian.  I'll be in touch."  The elf looked at his new charge.  Ranma was still covered in fish cakes, and was bleeding slightly from where the cats were scratching to get at the fish.

"Ranma," Genma called to his son, "you're going to train with this man for a while."  Genma inwardly smirked.  He'd follow the man and Ranma, and take his son back that night and keep the money.

"Ok Pop," the young martial artist said.  He looked at the elven god.  "Sensei."  The Father of All Elves smiled then led his charge deeper into the woods.  Sensing that Genma was following, Corellon took a deceptive path, getting the overweight martial artist completely turned around.

In a clearing only a few kilometers from the pit of cats, the elven god opened a portal and led Ranma through…

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Arvandor

…And into a forested glade.  Corellon walked with the boy towards a castle made entirely of living trees-shadowtops, duskwoods, redwood, and sequoia.

"Sensei," Ranma asked, "where are we?"

"Ranma, we are in Arvandor, my realm.  Elves who worship the good elven gods come here when they die."

Ranma swallowed hard.  "So, am I dead Sensei?"

Corellon chuckled.  This human child was a refreshing change from the dourness of elves.  "No Ranma, you're not.  The spirits of our people still require certain things, as do the gods."  They entered the castle, and into a courtyard just off the main corridor. Corellon pointed to a young she-elf.  "Ranma, Ygraine will show you to your chambers.  I would like you to rest up before we start your training."

Ranma bowed.  "Hai, sensei," and followed the young elf off to his chambers.

Corellon had his majordomo take the contract signed by Genma and secure it.

One of the elder gods, sipping a glass of everquisst looked at his lord.  "Who's the kid?"

"Well, you know how I've been after one of my daughters to drop the 'maiden' from her name?  How she's rejected everyone from the pantheon-including Hanali, and you *know* how hard she can be to turn down."

"You mean Eilistraee?  Yeah, she's still in that argument with your ex-wife.  So what has he got to do with her, anyway?"

"The boy was being trained by his father in Anything Goes style of unarmed combat. Well, attempting to be trained by him.  As to what this has to do with my daughter, well let's just say that I've just engaged her to that boy."

Elves normally do not spit take; as it is inelegant and undignified.  Elven gods normally don't either.  So when Labelas Enoreth sprayed Corellon with his everquisst, it had to be an illusion.  Except that Corellon was standing there, wiping the exquisite alcohol from his face with a cloth.  Of course, it could have been a very convincing illusion.  "WHAT?!"  Labelas asked, incredulously.

"According to the contract, they'll be engaged be engaged on his seventeenth summer.  He's got a year here, before we reinsert him into his original timeline some six months after his departure," said a smirking Father of All Elves.  "He'll learn bow and sword and woodcraft from the best of the best.  And when he returns to the Earth, his father will seek to make him a master of unarmed combat."

Labelas shook his head.  "Does she even *know* yet?"

"She'll find out any…"

A cry could be heard from across the courtyard.  "FATHER!!"

Corellon smirked.

Eilistraee came running into the courtyard.  Corellon looked at his only daughter by his ex-wife and kept a small smile on his face.  "Father," the drow goddess said, "how could you promise me in marriage?"

"Eilistraee, think of it as a political treaty; you needn't think of it as a relationship based on love, although I would hope that would result of this marriage."  His dark-skinned daughter did not look happy at all.  "You have some time before the contract either is nullified or goes into effect.  The lad is only five years old.  And you are still young yet, my daughter.

"For now, I would just appreciate your being his friend.  Your fiancé was taken from his mother, and was in the process of being trained by someone looking for a quick way to an unbeatable skill.  One of the eternal problems of humans," Corellon sighed, "is that they are always in a rush."

The goddess of good Drow thought on it for a few moments.  "I will do as you ask, Father, but I will not hesitate in my war against Mother."

"Good.  I wouldn't think of it any other way.  Now, with that out of the way, Eilistraee, I would like you to teach young Ranma the sword."  Corellon smirked again.  "I told his father that I would make him a master in armed combat, so who better to learn from than the elves.  But we only have a limited time to do it in."

"How long do I have with the boy?"

"Four months."

"Four months?  That's barely enough time to for me to teach him the basics of swordcraft.  And you want me to make him an expert in four months?  Father, forgive me for saying this, but you are crazy."

Corellon gave his daughter an insufferable smirk.

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C&C welcome.  Flames will be used for dinner

Elven Deity Primer will follow, eventually.