#EISTU | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sockablock · 6 years

Text

Something New for Me and You

• (start) (prev) (next) (Read on AO3) •

Chapter 6: The Still-Hanging Spotlight

Yasha leaned against a stone column outside the front entrance, facing east and idly watching boats bob up and down along the Eistus River. The arrival of winter meant fishing season was over now, but the few brightly-colored vessels still on the nighttime waters left her with a sense of serene, floating ease.

And then suddenly, the doors burst open behind her. A wild stream of people poured out, all well-dressed but looking very harried, roughly shoving past each other and heading straight for the sidewalks. Strangely enough, there were also two tiny gnomes flanking the horde, shouting over the noise and doing their best to direct the flow as smoothly as possible.

Thanks to her formidable stature, Yasha was able to wade through this onslaught with relative ease. She caught fragments of frantic conversation as she moved—what on earth was that; I can’t believe it; horrifying, so horrifying; my lawyer will head of this; poor old Brinjay—and while none of it actually made any sense, all of it was extremely worrying.

“What happened?” she asked when she reached the entrance. “What’s going on?”

The gnome to her left, a tiny brown-haired man, spoke first.

“A guy in the audience went insane,” he explained. “Started writhing and screaming and attacking, it looked like he changed into some kind of monster! Is that something that happens, usually?”

“Knock it off, dear,” sighed the other gnome. “That’s not helpful. Miss, you should stay put,” she added, looking up at the massive woman next to her. “It’s not safe in there anymore.”

Yasha glanced through the doors, watched panicked guests tumble down the stairs.

She met the gnome’s concerned gaze and shook her head. “I cannot do that,” she said. “My friends are still in there. I need to go.”

And then she pushed a handful of guests aside, and headed in.

•

Caleb’s chair flew back as he leapt to his feet, the flames in his hands shedding a low orange glow over the tablecloth, over Jester’s frantic expression, over Nott’s wide and fearful eyes. With only the stage spotlight and the moon leaking in through cracks in the curtains to illuminate the area, he could barely make out anything worthwhile—just snatches of a lumbering silhouette behind the mad shifting of fleeing audience members. From what he could tell, whatever the man had become was massive. It stretched taller than any human could, was wide as a bear and made furious swipes with rake-like claws at anything and everything that moved.

Then it roared a low, wet, wretched roar.

“What is that thing?” Jester cried, whipping around to face him. “What the fuck?!”

“I-I don’t know!” he shouted back. “I’ve never seen anything like it before! We need to get out of here, it is too dangerous!”

“But what about the others?” she demanded. “What about Molly and the performers and everybody downstairs?”

Nott squinted, and pointed at the stage. “There are still people there too!” she said. “I think I see Desmond, the lizard-man, and…and Toya.”

Sure enough, perched twenty feet in the air on her small wooden platform, the little dwarf girl was now backing up, raising her hands and trembling. She spoke too quietly for anybody to hear, but her eyes were filled with terror and her shoulders quivered. And then suddenly, she took a step too wide, placed her foot too far, felt the wind rush past and saw the ground fly up to meet her—

“Kylre!” Desmond screamed, “catch her!”

A massive shape rose through the darkness. It glinted for just a moment in the moonlight, reached out its arms, and landed back onto the stage with a resounding thud.

“Thank the gods,” Desmond breathed as Kylre turned to him, cradling Toya in his grasp. “Quick, get her out of here, get yourselves somewhere safe. This isn’t going to end well, friend.”

The lizard-man immediately took off behind the curtains. Back down on the carpeted floor, Jester, Caleb, and Nott’s attention returned to the strange, rampaging creature. The area around it had cleared out as patrons ran away, and it had switched to crushing tables under its girth, throwing vases against the walls. It shattered a window with a chair and punched an ashen fist against the ground and then—only then—did it notice their trio: the only ones not moving to escape.

It gave that cry again, a mix of pitiful and terrifying. It advanced.

“Oh, shit,” said Nott, “oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, are we going to have to fight?”

Caleb glanced around wildly, saw the outline of a stampeding horde blocking the exits and a sea of debris blocking the stage. He looked down at his palms, still crackling and ablaze.

“Er,” he began, “I, fuck, I don’t—”

Jester cut him off. “Let’s goooo!” she yelled brightly. clapping her hands together. Immediately, snapping into reality before all of their eyes, came a giant, shimmering purple lollipop. It immediately swung into the creature’s head, eliciting a roar of anger. The monster clutched its skull in agony, then looked up and locked onto Jester.

“Whoops,” she said. Her arms were outstretched and glowing faintly. “I think maybe I just made it mad.”

Caleb prevented himself from anxiously combing his fingers through his hair and setting it on fire. He turned to Nott and asked, urgently, “Did you bring your spell components?”

She quickly nodded.

“Good,” he said. “Hurry, send a message downstairs to alert Fjord and Beau what is happening. We need them to evacuate people and send backup. We will not be able to fight this thing alone.”

“Alright, Caleb!” She shoved a fist into her coat, rummaged around, and yanked out a copper wire. And as she began murmuring the commands for a Message Spell, Caleb took a deep breath, pulled deep into himself to draw upon all the knowledge he still possessed. Suddenly, the air around them turned blistering and dry and a sphere of flame coalesced around his hands, grew scorching, and he sent three blasts of burning fire towards the grotesque creature as it roared and drew ever closer.

•

Despite being on the clock, Fjord eventually gave up on sobriety and joined Beau in having a small drink.

“It’s just been a shitty few days,” she muttered gloomily. “Something happened that really pissed me off.”

“Wanna tell me about it?” he asked. “I promise I won’t judge.”

She sighed. “It’s stupid. You’re gonna judge me anyways, but basically, yesterday in the mail I got—”

FJORD TOUGH—STOP—THIS IS NOTT—STOP—I HAVE AN URGENT MESSAGE—STOP—THINGS ARE FUCKED—STOP

Beau leaned over the counter and watched Fjord get up from the ground. He looked around in bewilderment and kicked a few shards of broken glass aside. A couple other curious bar patrons also glanced over, though they seemed too intoxicated to really care.

“Whoa there,” said Beau. “You good? You look like your bean just got freaked. Did you fall on any glass?”

He rubbed his temples. “Nah,” he muttered, “nah, I think I’m okay. Did you, uh, did you just…hear something?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Uh…no? Are you sure you’re okay?”

He sighed and gestured at the bottle on the table. “Maybe we should’ve picked something weaker to start with,” he shrugged. “Or maybe I’m more of a lightweight than I thought, because—”

FJORD TOUGH—STOP—THIS IS NOTT AGAIN—STOP—SOMETHING ATTACKED US—STOP—DURING THE SHOW—STOP—YOU NEED TO EVACUATE FLETCH—STOP—AND THEN COME UP AND HELP US—STOP—ALSO THIS IS PROBABLY NEW FOR YOU—STOP—IT’S A MAGIC SPELL—STOP—AND YOU CAN REPLY TO THIS MESSAGE—STOP

This time Beau punched him in the arm. “Seriously dude,” she said, “open your eyes, are you sure you’re g—”

“Something’s happened,” he frowned. “I…I’m not sure what exactly, but I just got a message from Nott, I think? She says there’s been an attack in the Moondrop. She says she wants us to get everybody out, down here.”

Beau’s eyes went wide. “What? Are you serious? Is…is she serious? How do you know it’s not a prank, or something?”

“I don’t,” he agreed, “but she sounded pretty urgent. And you know how thick the soundproofing is, something really could’ve happened and we wouldn’t’ve noticed. Maybe…maybe it’s better to be safe than sorry?”

She shook her head, and then shrugged. “Sure, whatever, man. What do we do?”

He glanced around. “I’m gonna to ask the customers to clear out,” he said. “I’ll need your help guiding them safely and making sure they don’t panic. Sound good?”

“Gotcha.”

“Okay,” Fjord said. “In that case—”

FJORD TOUGH—STOP—I NOTE THAT YOU DID NOT REPLY—STOP—ARE YOU OKAY—STOP—DO YOU REQUIRE ASSISTANCE—STOP—BECAUSE WE CAN’T REALLY GIVE YOU THAT NOW THINGS ARE SUPER BAD HERE—STOP—LIKE REALLY REALLY BAD—STOP—PLEASE HURRY—STOP—I’M NOT KIDDING—STOP—AND YOU CAN REPLY TO THIS—

“Yes, godsdammit, Nott!” he shouted at the ceiling. “I heard you, loud and clear! We’ll be up as soon. Is that alright?”

There were a few seconds of silence.

YEAH OKAY SURE

Fjord sighed and rubbed his forehead. Then he slid Beau’s drink aside and climbed up onto the counter.

“Ladies and gentlemen and other welcomed guests,” he called as calmly as possible, “excuse me, but I have an important announcement to make.”

When the crowd did not quiet down, Beau rolled her eyes, grabbed two bottles of liquor off the shelves, and smashed them as aggressively as she could against the floor. Everybody’s heads instantly turned towards her.

“Listen up!” She yelled. “Your bartender has something fuckin’ important to say! And if you all wanna live, then you’d better pay attention.”

•

Gustav lowered his tablet, which had suddenly gone dark, and tapped on his headset. “Hello?”

He glanced over at Ornna, Molly, and the Knot Sisters, standing around him behind the large curtains, securely offstage. They all shrugged.

“Desmond?” he tried. “Hello, Des? Your connection stopped, what was that scream? Is everything—”

Then there came a mighty roar, and muffled shouting. That would have been fine, almost expected given the scene, but then…then…

Kylre exploded through the curtains, Toya in his arms, followed closely behind Bosun and Desmond and a trail of chains clattering in their wake. He didn’t even stop—just barreled past the rest of the group and vanished down the hall.

There was a brief pause, punctuated by another scream from beyond the stage.

“What the fuck,” said Ornna. “What—”

“No time!” Desmond yelled, grabbing her by the shoulders. “Something’s attacking us! There was…there was…”

“Someone in the audience just turned into a fuckin’ monster of some kind,” Bosun said. His eyes were wide and his breath short. “We’ve gotta get out of here now, go hide somewhere or get to safety. Everyone’s running, Gustav, and we should do the same.”

Gustav’s eyes darted around. Molly could see a war tearing him apart—protect the Moondrop, or protect his troupe.

After a few seconds of turmoil he turned to them and nodded decisively. “Alright then,” he said quickly. “Okay. Everybody, to the back exit. Come on, come on, time to go.”

•

“I don’t see why you had to do that,” Fjord said as they pushed the last of the patrons onto the sidewalk and handed over control to Yan, the other bouncer. “Those were expensive bottles.”

“Cry me a river,” Beau huffed. “Besides, they were technically 25% off tonight.”

Fjord rolled his eyes and began heading up the outdoor stairs leading to the Moondrop. “So when you pay it back, you can pay it back cheaper.”

“Sure.” Beau rolled her eyes behind him. “Because I’ll definitely be paying for those.”

He nodded, ignoring her sarcasm. “Let’s see what it was that Nott was going on about now,” he said, reaching for his keys.

“I really hope that was worth it,” Beau muttered. “Otherwise we just ruined an entire bar’s evening, and those two bottles of liquor.”

Fjord tugged on the handle. “I can’t imagine it’s that—”

Typically, warm lighting and the cheerful hum of behind-the-scenes life would greet them past the open door. But now, instead, the lights were completely off. The air was tomb-silent and cold, save for a low and distant commotion somewhere beyond the main stage. And then came that long-off scream, and that hushed roar.

“Well fuck,” said Beau. “I guess...I guess that’s what she was talkin’ about, huh?”

“What the hell was that?” Fjord whispered. “Some kinda monster? Is that what we’re supposed to fight?”

“You’ve got magic, don’t you?” she returned. “You’re probably more equipped than I am for this kinda thing.”

He immediately shook his head. “No way. I barely know what I’m doing magic-wise. At least you can punch shit real hard. Didn’t you used to go to school with monks, or somethin’?”

Beau shrugged. “Yeah, maybe,” she said, “but I don’t really think that’s gonna help. This is fucked.”

They both stared down the hallway for a few moments. Then they turned back to one another.

“Runnin’ seems pretty good right now,” he admitted. “I’m not sure we could even help, in this situation.”

Beau nodded. “I like that plan. Maybe we can—”

Then there was another sound. Shrill, muffled by distance and barely audible, but what Fjord and Beau managed to catch was:

“EAT SHIT, YOU STUPID ZOMBIE THING!”

Their eyes immediately widened.

“Was that—”

“No way, is—”

“Aw fuck,” they both said at exactly the same time.

Fjord ran a hand through his hair, and Beau shook her head.

“So…we’re going in, then,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah,” Fjord said. “Yeah. Let’s…let’s…fuck it, man. Just...just fuck it.”

•

Molly’s head whipped around towards the stage. From where they stood he could only make out a tiny sliver of the performance hall beyond, shrouded in darkness, with occasional flickers of movement. Unfortunately, there was nothing to indicate whether or not—

“But it sounded exactly like Jester,” he said with a frown. “Fuck, I have to—”

Gustav grabbed his wrist and shook his head. The other members of their troupe were already fleeing down the hall.

“We need to get out of here,” he said urgently.

“Are you kidding me?” Molly hissed back. “There’s something loose in our home and I think, gods, I think my friends are fighting it now!”

“But what could you possibly do?” Gustav pressed. “Please, Mollymauk, please, come with the rest of us. Don’t worry about the bar, worry about yourself.”

Molly looked over his shoulder, heard a distant whoosh of air, a heavy impact, and more panicked screams. He glanced down at his sides, where two prop scimitars were strapped against his hips. He met Gustav’s worried gaze.

“I’m going out there,” he said firmly. “I can’t just sit back and—”

And then Beau and Fjord rounded the corner, out of breath and looking determined. They came to a halt just in front of Molly and Gustav. For a second, both pairs just stared at each other.

Beau spoke first. “We’re, uh, here,” she said. “To help.”

“Nott says something is out there attacking audience members,” Fjord explained. “And right now she and Jes and Caleb are tryin’ to fight it. We’re, well, I guess we’re also—”

Molly immediately held up a hand, and they paused. “You’re coming to fight too?” he asked.

Beau and Fjord exchanged glances.

“Uh…” Fjord said, “I guess?”

Molly nodded. He unsheathed one of his swords, which wobbled slightly as it moved through the air. But his grip was resolute. He took a deep breath and looked at Gustav once more.

“I’m going.” His voice was soft. “Please,” he added.

Gustav’s shoulders relaxed just slightly as he gave in. “Okay,” he said. “Alright. But…but be safe, son.”

Molly gave him a small smile. Then he raised an eyebrow at Beau and Fjord. “Well then?” he asked. “Are we getting in there, or what?”

•

In the corner of his vision, under the glow of the still-hanging spotlight, Caleb saw three shapes emerge from backstage. One was lithe, one slightly stockier, and one with large, curling horns.

“Oh good!” he called, calling more fire from nothing. “The cavalry is here now!”

“Took you long enough!” Nott screamed. She had produced a crossbow from…from somewhere, and was crouched behind an overturned table for cover. Her eyes, though still light blue and disguised, were manic with anxiousness and adrenaline. “Fjord, you suck at replying!”

“Talk later!” Jester yelled, and punched her fist, and her spectral lollipop swept down to bludgeon the creature. “Fight now!”

Beau immediately leapt off the stage, grabbed a fallen chair, screamed as she barreled towards her target. Fjord stayed in place, either immobile from fear or taking a moment to assess the situation. Apparently it was the latter, because after a few seconds he thrust his hands out and murmured a few strange words and a cold green blast of energy flung outwards, rocketed through the air and collided with the monster’s skull. Caleb was so distracted by this peculiar arcane display—what was that, it didn’t look like a normal spell—that he almost didn’t notice the other flash of light just under the stage.

Mollymauk had jumped off as well, was now advancing with two scimitars in his hands. One was surrounded by a bright, radiant glow that illuminated the second blade, which was coated in a thin layer of hard, crackling ice.

Well okay then, Caleb thought. Perhaps he was not the only one with a strange and magical past.

Part of him almost wanted to laugh at how familiar this all felt, taking something down with a group at his side, reveling in the heat that left his fingers and admiring the skills of his friends. But then the creature roared again, and his attention snapped back to the battle.

Now, under the fury of the group’s assault, it was beginning to look rough. Blasts of green light exploded against its ashy hide, pockmarked with crossbow bolts and lollipop-dents and slashes from Molly’s swords, singed and sporting chair splinters like porcupine quills, that were scattered along its unnatural, protruding skeleton. Its malformed head whipped around violently, overwhelmed by the relentless onslaught and unable to focus on one target. Its body jerked, spasmed, and with no other options something inside it, deep and buried and survival-driven, took control.

Its instincts said: run away.

It saw the grand door leading outside, where the last of the guests had just vanished out of sight.

It saw a direct path, littered with broken furniture and bent silverware.

And then it saw Beau step in the way, advancing with half a table swinging in her grasp.

Another flash of fire exploded across its back, it felt the wind of a downward scimitar-strike and it roared again, made up its mind, started to flee. It barreled towards Beauregard and then her eyes immediately went wide with panic and terror, as the realization sunk in that she wouldn’t be able to escape before it hit, that she wouldn’t have time to dodge, that all she could do was brace herself and tuck in her elbows and hope that its jagged spikes wouldn’t tear her to bits—

—and just as she was about to be bulldozed over, another massive shape burst past her in a flurry of feathers, screaming a deep, enraged cry. It tackled the monster at gut-height, and Molly just barely danced out of the way as Yasha and the creature went soaring ten feet back, her shoulder buried in its stomach and her eyes glowing in the darkness.

They collided with the floor. Yasha on top, the monster beneath her dragging a disgusting trail of ash and slime and shards of bone against the wood.

They both came to a stop. For a moment or two, the creature just lay there and gurgled faintly.

And then it went still. And silent.

Yasha stood up and tried to wipe the ooze off her shawl. It sort of worked.

“Is that what everybody was running from?” she asked calmly, and prodded the grotesque, grey slough on the ground with her boot. “Are we done, then?”

They all stared at her. Beau had stars in her eyes. Fjord sighed, and started making his way down from the stage.

Then the house lights came to life. Four Crownsguard in full riot gear burst into the performance hall, trailed by a dwarf woman in jeans and a leather jacket.

They all looked at the dead monster. They looked at the motley crew of guests and employees standing around it. Everybody just sort of stood there for a few long, quiet seconds.

“Well then,” the woman said eventually, gesturing to the creature lying at Yasha’s feet. “I see you all have taken care of the immediate threat. I’ll remember that, in case we end up arresting you.”

And then, before anybody could say another word, she turned around and stuck her head back out the doorway. “Grenn!” She shouted. “Go tell the posh folk to go home! And get me those performers from out back. I think it’s time we all had a little chat.”

And then, she faced their group again and crossed her arms. As she shifted, her jacket nudged to the side and revealed a silver chain hanging around her neck, ending in a gold badge shaped like a shield. It shone in the light, before vanishing again back under her clothing.

“I’m Detective-Sergeant Norda,” she said. “Find me some chairs that aren’t broken, will you? This could take a while, and I’d like to sit down.”

•

“No way,” said Molly, shooting to his feet. “You can’t do that.”

“Mollymauk,” Gustav said firmly, “don’t argue this.”

“But he’s innocent!” Molly said. “I know he is, he—”

“And where’s your proof?” Norda demanded. “How do you know?”

They were all gathered at the far left of the hall now, clustered around one of the only undamaged tables remaining. Norda leaned forwards on her elbows, glaring at the group amassed before her. Gustav and most of the troupe were seated, Molly angrily pounding a fist against the tablecloth, Yasha standing in the back with her arms crossed next to Bosun and the non-Moondrop stragglers. Nott had ducked behind Caleb and emerged a moment later with a fresh Disguise Self, and Jester was scribbling away in a notebook she had produced from her purse. Six more Crownsguard had also entered the building, four splitting off to investigate and dispose of the creature, the other two joining the rest in unsubtly watching over the proceedings.

It was unnerving, to be sure.

Norda shook her head at Molly. “I appreciate your loyalty to your employer,” she said coolly, “but I would more appreciate it if you would calm down. You’re lucky I’m letting you all off.”

“You saw the security footage,” Beau said. “You have to.”

“I don’t have to do shit, kid,” Norda said immediately. “Especially not what you tell me to do. My decision is final, based on what I’ve seen and what I’ve been told. I’m taking Mr. Fletching here, noting his cooperation in the matter, and I’ll release him once we get indisputable evidence of his innocence. And all of you are on thin fucking ice, too. Right now you’re in the peaceful waters of my good graces. Ensure that you stay that way. You performers, depending on how this goes, we may need to question you. So don’t even think about leaving this city tonight.”

She leaned back and sighed. “Go get your things and go home, alright? Hurry up, so you don’t look too suspicious. If we see anything out of place, that turns up in your possession, I’ll drag you to jail myself. We’ll update you further as things develop.”

She gave a short nod and pushed her chair back. “Good evening,” she said. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

She stood up, waved a hand at her officers, and turned around. They all scrambled to follow her, leading Gustav along with them as they did.

And then a minute later, they were all gone.

In the ensuing quiet, Molly put his forehead against the tabletop. Nobody spoke for a bit.

Then Desmond sighed and put a hand on the tiefling’s back. “It’ll be okay,” he said. “Gustav’s innocent, they’ll see that and then let him go.”

Bosun scoffed. “Will they?” he asked. “Are you sure? A man died tonight, they’re going to want someone to blame.”

“What if...what if Gustav is guilty?” Ornna asked, and quickly raised her hands when a number of outraged faces swiveled towards her. “I’m just saying,” she sighed. “We all love him, yeah, but...it’s possible. It’s not like he tells us everything, and sometimes he can be a little shady.”

“We’re all shady,” Molly grumbled through the tablecloth. “That’s what makes us so delightful.”

“It is also why the law does not like us,” Yasha reminded him gently.

“Gustav had to work damn hard to get the money and respect he needed to run this place,” Yuli agreed. “We all did.”

“And now it’s gone,” Desmond nodded. “Or, at least, it seems like it. But we can’t let this break us apart, right? We all need each other more than ever, now. We need to stick together.”

Beau cleared her throat. “Speaking of sticking together,” she said, “uh...wasn’t there another one of you in the troupe? Giant and scaly, carried around a dwarf kid, answers to the name of ‘Kylre’ and ran off just after the fight started?”

There was a moment’s pause.

“He was trying to keep Toya safe,” said Ornna slowly. “I think he went to hide backstage, right?”

“He wasn’t outside with the rest of us,” Mona said, “so he must still be there.”

Fjord shrugged. “Beau and I ran through a few rooms on the way to the fight,” he said, “but I didn’t see ‘im. Though he could’ve hunkered down somewhere out of sight,” he added.

“We could go look for him and Toya and tell them the coast is clear, if you’d like?” Jester volunteered. “So you all can get your things.”

“That would be...very kind of you,” Bosun said. “If you all aren’t opposed…?”

Nott opened her mouth and Jester immediately kicked her in the leg. “Not a problem at all! It’s the least we can do.”

Molly stood up and sighed. “I’ll come with you,” he said. “You’ll probably need someone to make sure you don’t get lost, and to talk to them once we find them.”

“I will come also,” said Yasha. “I do not have any things here to retrieve.”

“C’mon then, you guys,” Molly said, waving the group on forwards. “The sooner we find them, the better, probably.”

•

“Okay,” said Fjord as he and Jester returned to the green room. “I swear, we searched our area a thousand times up and down, and nothing. Not even a smidge of slime or a strand of blonde hair.”

Molly rubbed his face and shook his head. He was pacing across the carpet now, the rest of the group sitting on the couch and watching him with expressions ranging from concern (Yasha, Jester, Fjord, Caleb) to amusement (Nott and Beau).

“I don’t get it,” he said. “It’s not like they should be hard to spot. For the gods’ sake, Kylre is probably eight feet tall.”

“Probably more,” said Jester. “He’s super big.”

“Right, sure,” Molly conceded. “But my point is, I don’t think we would have overlooked him if he was still in here. So the question is—”

“Where did he go?!” Nott jumped up. “That’s what you were going to say, eh?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Well, yes.”

“Hell yes!” Nott punched a fist into the air. “This means that we’ve got a mystery on our hands! And you know what that means!”

Jester immediately shoved Fjord to the side and ran over to stand next to Nott. “It means that Brave and Lavore are on the case! There’s no puzzle we can’t uncover, no crime we can’t decipher, no code we can’t solve!”

Beau frowned. “Shouldn’t it be ‘solve’ for the puzzle, ‘decipher’ for the code, and ‘uncover’ for the crime?”

Nott shrugged. “We’re open to constructive criticism,” she said, “but not right now. Right now, we’re on the case! Mollymauk, when was the last time you saw this Kylre of yours?”

Molly rolled his eyes. “Onstage, Nott. Where else?”

She nodded slowly. “I see…I see…well then, what was he doing when you saw him?”

Molly shook his head. “He was running away. Gods, is this really going to help?”

Jester immediately nodded. “Definitely,” she said. “It’s a practiced art, detective-ing.”

“I am a very big fan of you both,” Caleb said carefully, “but are you sure that this is the best way to go about searching for them? I feel like this has something to do with the Labenda Mysteries series we watched last week. Not to cast aspersions.”

“I don’t know that spell,” Nott said, “so I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

As Beau had a small fit in the background and Yasha clapped her on the back, the others returned to the situation at hand.

“I guess we could look around in the alleys and stuff,” Molly suggested with a shrug.

“Do they live around here?” Jester asked. “They could have just gone home.”

Yasha shook her head. “They both reside in the Moondrop,” she said. “In an old dressing room. It is...difficult for folks like them to find apartments and such in a city like this.”

Nott gave a glum nod of understanding.

Caleb tapped his chin slowly. “Perhaps this is a silly idea,” he said, “but I could send Frumpkin out to skitter around the rooftops, see if he can see anything outside from above. Maybe they did leave, and just went to hide somewhere.”

Fjord nodded. “Sounds like a good idea to me,” he said. “In the meantime, we can make our way out too and take a look around. I don’t want to be in here for too much longer, to avoid drawin’ suspicion from the authorities.”

“You mean the sheriff?” Nott asked immediately.

Fjord gave her a puzzled frown. “No? I’m pretty sure she said she was a Detective-Sergeant.”

Beau coughed a few times. “Can we just go?” she asked. “Before I literally have an aneurysm.”

“I will need someone to hold my hand,” Caleb said. “And guide me. When I look into Frumpkin’s eyes, I cannot see or hear.”

Jester instantly volunteered. “Ooh, ooh, I can do it!” she cried. “I love holding people’s hands.”

Molly gave her a small smile. “Great,” he said. “Now we have the affectionate leading the deaf and blind.”

•

“This is kind of freaky,” Fjord said. “Is it always like this?”

“Probably?” Nott guessed. “He doesn’t really do it that much, but it has been so far.”

“It looks like we can almost see what Frumpkin is seeing also,” Yasha noted. “Flashing in his eyes.”

They were all outside now, standing just under the alley stairs that led up to the Moondrop. At this point, the city had completely melted into night, dark clouds overhead and the flicker of streetlamps all around them. Cars still inched along the roads out front but back here, behind the building, it was relatively quiet. The far-off sound of a flowing river leaked past the brick and concrete around them. Light snowfall was beginning to drift down, and they all pulled their jackets in tighter except for Caleb, who was distracted, and Jester, who didn’t seem to mind.

“Do you see anything yet?” she asked the wizard. “Have you found them?”

There was no response.

“He can’t hear you,” Beau said with a tone that suggested this was her fourth reminder in the last ten minutes.

“Let’s just wait, dear,” Molly said gently. “I’m sure the moment he does get something, he’ll let us know.”

“It’s really cold out here,” Nott grumbled.

“You should put on a coat then,” Jester said. “So that you don’t get sick.”

“I’m wearing a coat,” Nott sighed. “It’s just under my gnome disguise.”

“You know,” Fjord nodded, “I was gonna ask about that.”

“I’m magic. Not as magic as Caleb, but still magic.”

“Got any spells for makin’ fire, then?” he asked conversationally. “Somethin’ to keep you warm?”

“No. I wish I did, though, ‘cause I hate this. It never got so cold where I used to live.”

“Oh? Where was that?”

“Felderwin. South.”

Fjord smiled. “Hey, me too! Southwest, but still south.”

“Really?” Nott asked. “Were there goblins where you were? ‘Cause if yes, then—”

Caleb suddenly thrust a hand forward and grabbed blindly at the first thing in front of him, which was Yasha’s shawl, and tugged urgently. “I see something,” he said. “Something very large. A...a shadow, of some kind. It just ducked into the building, and the door is very loud behind it.”

“What kind of building?” Jester asked. “What kind of shadow?”

“He still can’t hear you,” Beau moaned.

“It is gone now,” Caleb sighed. He was still staring off into the distance. “But it was quite large. Large enough to be Kylre, I think. And Frumpkin is only a block or two away, so it is not impossible that our missing friends took off a short distance, just to be safe.”

Then he blinked, and shook his head, and the light faded from his eyes. They were back to their usual, non-glowing blue. He blushed faintly and released Yasha’s shawl.

“Sorry,” he said. “I got nervous.”

She shook her head. “It is fine. Now say again, where was this?”

“And what kind of building?” Jester demanded again. “Like a restaurant, or an apartment building, or a shoe store, or a bookstore, or a jewelry store, or a candy store, or a—”

“I am not entirely sure,” Caleb sighed before they could lose their minds any further. “It was very large, though, and wide, and right along the water. In the marina.”

Fjord rubbed his chin. “Is it a shipping warehouse?” he asked. “I think that’d be the most likely.”

Caleb shrugged. “Perhaps?”

“Can you lead us there?” Beau asked. “Do you remember where it is?”

“Caleb has a perfect memory!” Nott said immediately. “He remembers where everything is.”

“Really?” Molly asked. “Fascinating.”

Caleb rubbed the back of his neck. “That description is not entirely true,” he said, “but it is sufficient in this specific case. Come on, everybody. I can take us there.”

They took off at a decent walking pace, mildly bantering the whole way as Caleb led them down two blocks and through a few alleys, following the path of a tiny cat fifty feet in the air as best as they could on foot. Eventually, after untangling Molly’s scarlet costume coat from the broken corner of a dumpster and waiting for Beau to scrape the gum on her shoe off against a brick wall, they arrived at the opening to the streets. And the sidewalks, and the iron gates leading to the docks. They crossed, avoided a lone driver, and walked up to the gate.

It was chained shut, and locked for the night.

“How do we get in?” Jester asked. “You can’t turn us all into cats or magic the fence open, can you?”

That last part was directed at Caleb, who shook his head. “I cannot do the cats thing,” he said. “And I already used up quite a bit of magic during our fight with the strange grey creature.”

“That’s a weird thing to call it,” Beau said.

“Was? Why?”

She shrugged. “Well, I mean, ‘grey’ wasn’t really a defining feature, you know? I was more worried about the jagged bony spikes and horrible glowing eyes and the fact that it had no skin.”

“Tomayto, tomahto.”

“No, I really don’t think that—”

There was a faint click. They both looked down.

Nott was kneeling on the ground, holding the large rusted lock in one of her hands. In the other, some sort of thin metal tool. There was small piece of black canvas next to her leg on the sidewalk, with more tools on it.

Caleb immediately smiled. “Excellent job, spatz,” he said, and leaned down to ruffle her hair.

“Aw, it was nothing,” she grinned back. “Shall we go?”

Beau threw her hands up into the air in a why-the-hell-not gesture. Fjord looked at Molly, who shrugged.

Fjord turned back to Nott. “What the hell?” he asked. “How did...what was...where were you keeping those?”

“She also has a crossbow,” Jester said helpfully.

“Where?” Molly asked.

Nott snorted. “This is an illusion, remember? I’m wearing a whole belt of stuff over my real dress. And a hoodie. It’s cold out.”

“So you said, earlier.”

“Come on now,” Caleb sighed, pushing the fence open. “So that after this, we can go home and get somewhere warm.”

They all slipped through, and entered the Eistus Marina.

It was essentially a long series of docks and wharfs, connected by walkways over the water and framed with warehouses and smaller shacks. Boats bobbed up and down along the river, and the moon was low overhead through the clouds. The snow had caught up to them now, blanketing the wooden planks under their feet in a faint white dusting.

“That way,” Caleb said, pointing to their right. “That is where Frumpkin saw the shape.”

They followed his path down the main dock, and stopped in front of massive building with a flat roof, tiny windows high up, and a rusted sign with a picture of a flying bird out front. Its doors were styled like a garage’s, one massive sheet of metal lifted up from the bottom.

It was slightly dented, and hung about an inch off the ground.

“This is it,” Caleb said. “He went in through there.”

Fjord nodded slowly. “It is a shipping warehouse,” he said. “That bird, it’s the wandering albatross. It’s the symbol of the Menagerie Merchant Company.

“How do you know that?” Nott asked.

He shrugged. “I used to work for ‘em. C’mon, Yasha, wanna give me a hand getting through?”

She nodded, and followed him to the front.

“Alright,” he said, crouching down. “This could be heavy. It always took a few of us to do, so if we can’t get it to work on the first try, then—”

Yasha leaned over, grabbed the handle with both hands, and with a mighty heave, yanked. The door rattled at first, then shook, then screamed a song of grinding rust and metal until it rested just above her head.

She turned and looked at the rest. The stars were back in Beau’s eyes. Jester clapped.

Fjord stood up, and dusted his legs off. “Well alright then,” he said with only mild embarrassment. “In that case...uh...after y—”

Something shot out of the darkness, something thick and pink and slimy and long, and immediately wrapped itself around Fjord’s waist.

There was a split second where all of them just stared at it, Fjord looking down and saying, “What the f—”

And then he was yanked under the door, shouting all the while and completely, appropriately, bewildered and afraid.

Molly recovered first, immediately shooting below Yasha’s arm and screaming, “Kylre! Kylre, it’s us, it’s us! Stop it, let him go!”

The rest watched him vanish.

They all stared at one another and waited for their brains to process what had just happened.

Then they scrambled to follow him inside, all ducking under one by one.

The warehouse was enormous, filled with crates and boxes and stacks and stacks of random merchandise all waiting to be shipped away or picked up in the morning. It was quite hard to see inside, given the lack of any electrical lighting and only the moon filtering in through tiny windows high above. Fortunately, most of the group wasn’t too inhibited by this—Caleb and Beau were the only ones struggling to see.

Of course, they didn’t need really darkvision to notice Fjord; he was still screaming and pounding against the slick, scaly hide of Kylre as he stood atop a mountain of metal containers. He had the thrashing half-orc in one hand, tongue now freed, and was staring down with gleaming red eyes to where they all stood at the entrance of the storage complex, door whining down behind them.

“Get out!” he bellowed. “Take your friend and go.” He thrust Fjord forwards in his large webbed hand like a child’s toy. The half-orc glared, and stopped yelling.

“Of course,” Molly said slowly, “of course we will. But you’re coming too, right?”

Kylre’s eyes glittered. “No,” he said. His voice was a low tremor. “I will leave.”

Yasha’s brow furrowed as she glanced around them. “Where...where is Toya?” she asked.

“Coming with me,” Kylre said. “We are leaving together.”

“Now, hang on a moment,” Molly said.. His voice was still cautious, but a sharp edge was beginning to creep in. “Why the sudden decision to run off? And why take Toya with you?”

The lizard-man shifted slightly. The crate underneath him quivered. “Danger,” he said. “We are in danger.”

“Now, that just ain’t true,” Fjord said. “Not you, anyways.”

“There is no more danger,” Caleb called. “We destroyed the monster.”

Kylre shifted again. This time his beady eyes narrowed. “Destroyed? You destroyed?”

“Yes,” Caleb said. “So there is no need to worry.”

Now Kylre was backing up, his head darting around and gaze lingering on the windows, on the large door behind the group. “There is need,” he rumbled. “There is great need. I will go now, take your friend, I will go now, and run away, take Toya—”

“Excuse me,” Fjord said, “excuse me, I’m still in your hands—”

“You can’t just take her,” Beau yelled. “She belongs with us.”

“I will take her,” Kylre repeated. His tone was growing more and more agitated, his motions more frantic. “I will take her, and I will go, and you all will leave us—”

“I sure would like to!” Fjord said very loudly. His feet were dragging against the top of the crate.

“Kylre, Kylre, please,” Molly said gently with a worried look at Fjord. “Please, let’s just talk about this calmly. Can we do that? We are friends, after all, yes?”

There was a pause. Caleb felt his heart retreat into his stomach as he heard the achingly familiar call of a Friends spell.

And then his stomach fell as he saw Kylre begin to nod, begin to settle, then suddenly jerk his head forwards and shake his whole body as he realized what had happened, as he swiveled his gaze to lock onto Molly and open his massive maw and roar, “NO. WE ARE NOT.”

Molly’s eyes went wide with confusion. And then they went wider, because Kylre drew back the fist that was clenching Fjord and with a terrible thrust, launched the half-orc across the room and directly into the opposite wall, where he impacted with a sickening crunch.

Many things happened at once. Kylre began backing up, tensing to leap away as pure instinct took over. Nott whipped her crossbow out of its invisible hiding spot and trained it on the lizard-man. Beau balled her fists up and Yasha’s stance went aggressive and Caleb started preparing himself to hide behind the nearest large object. But over all of that, in the shocked silence, as Fjord tumbled down the wall and crumbled against the ground, Jester saw, and watched, and eyes went wide.

Then she screamed. It was not with fear, or grief, or shock.

It was with rage. Absolute, pure and unfiltered fury.

A bolt of holy fire slammed down from the heavens and blasted into Kylre, enveloping him in searing white flame. The crate beneath him exploded into shrapnel. Jester immediately spun around, darted over to Fjord’s side. Molly re-drew his two scimitars and Caleb, with nothing else left to do, set his hands ablaze.

And then they all froze, as the faint sound of someone singing spun into the air.

Caleb felt the music creep along his ear, sneak through his iron-like paranoia and caress his cheeks. It was a warm sound, that felt like the sunlight through the trees or the feeling of a cat purring under his hands. Despite the tense scene before him, he suddenly wanted to lie down, to close his eyes, to relax and just drink in this warm song. All around him, he saw the others do the same, pause in their movements and sway with the melody. Even Jester, who was bent over Fjord’s quiet body and pouring healing magic into his chest, hesitated.

Suddenly, something else happened. The song abruptly turned sour, turned angry, and Caleb felt a horrible discordant note slam into his skull. It stabbed into his mind and twisted hard, dragged out dusty pictures that he had tried to bury, images of a pair of warm smiles, of a fields of endless grain, of a cold hand and icy pride and quiet night and the sharp hiss of straw catching fire—

—it was almost too much. He almost collapsed on the spot. But something else was running through his hearing now, something deeper than these memories and carved into his bones. It was a voice. It was familiar. It said:

Concentrate. This is not real. This is all in the mind, and the mind is a mage’s greatest weapon.

Caleb shrugged off the terror threatening to swallow him. He saw that the rest had too, in their own way somehow, and were shaking their heads, clearing their minds, pushing off the sound of the music—though he noticed that Beau looked worst of them all.

And then Kylre stood. He looked somewhat singed, and the debris around him glowed from Jester’s fire. He looked up at the windows, within reach but too small to fit through. His gaze turned to the only other exit in the warehouse, a large metal door currently being blocked by two humans, a goblin, and his former coworkers.

He made a choice. He leapt forward, broad, muscular arms swinging out in a desperate, enraged attack.

And he met Yasha and Beau, both ready with a flurry of blows, Yasha’s slow but powerful and Beau making sharp, rapid jabs. Molly, despite having his swords at the ready, seemed too reluctant to actually make any swipes, instead started shouting at Kylre with harsh, guttural words. Nott had no such reservations, instead scrambling onto a crate and beginning to fire as many bolts as she could. And sighing, with nothing else to do, Caleb pointed a finger at Kylre and sent a spout of flame in the lizard-man’s direction, doing his best not to burn any of his friends.

For the second time in only a few hours, the group came together. They weren’t actually going for a kill this time—Kylre was Molly and Yasha’s friend, for the gods’ sake. But as the lizard-man made his intentions clear, that he would do his best to eliminate every single one of them and flee, they cracked down. Caleb’s spells missed more often than not now, left with only cantrips, and Beau didn’t have the advantage of table-pieces to use as weapons, but they were still a formidable bunch.

The only problem was the singing. Every few seconds, they had to pause and clap their hands against their ears, wincing with pain. It was impossible to avoid, and Kylre would manage to land a rough strike whenever Beau or Yasha or Molly heard the song.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Caleb saw a tiny shape huddled behind one of the crates. It was Toya, crouched in a pool of moonlight, trembling as she sang.

Caleb believed he was a loyal friend to Nott. He believed he was a decent companion for Frumpkin.

But he also believed, over everything else, that he was a complete and utter piece of trash.

“Beauregard!” he yelled, pointing at Toya’s tiny figure. “Make her stop! End the song!”

Beau, bless her heart, only needed a second to understand. “Got it!” she yelled. She immediately broke away from the melee, leapt over crates and pushed boxes aside and launched herself at the little dwarf girl, who immediately yelped with terror and tried to back away. But Beau was too fast, and succeeded in pinning her to the ground.

She was screaming her song now, tears spilling down her cheeks, and Beau looked back at Caleb in confusion. “What do I do?!” she yelled.

“Scheiss, Beau, just knock her out!”

Beau seemed more puzzled than anything else. Then she just shook her head, wound her fist back, and hit Toya in the head.

The child went limp.

And with that, and a final, brutal strike from Yasha’s elbow against his skull, Kylre went down with a mighty thump and the battle ended.

“Ow,” said Fjord in the resounding silence, and struggled to sit up. He winced, and put a hand against his side. “Fuck,” he added.

Molly lowered his swords. They were glowing and icy again, but as he relaxed his shoulders the light faded and the ice started to melt away.

“How are you feeling, there?” he called. His voice was strained, and couldn’t seem to make himself look away from Kylre’s fallen form.

“Alright, I think?” Fjord said. “But I also think my ribs are broken.”

“They were broken,” Jester informed him. “Now they are just bruised.”

“Well then,” he said. “Uh...thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Beau stood up also, a small blonde girl in her arms. “I’ve got a kid,” she said. “I mean, uh, the kid.”

“Great,” Molly said. “This is...a situation.”

Nott climbed down from her crate and made her way over, Beau doing the same and carrying Toya. Caleb sighed, and his hands went out.

“Now what?” he asked. “What do we do about...all this?”

“We’re gonna have to move him somehow,” Fjord said. “People might come here in the morning.”

“Agreed,” Molly said. “I just don’t understand...why would he attack us like that? Why would he do that? We’re friends!”

“Apparently not as good of friends as you thought,” Yasha said. “I think—”

In the distance, soft but growing louder, a high-pitched wail.

Police sirens.

They all looked at each other.

“Was that a—”

“Fuck, what do—”

“No way, could—”

“Gods, this is—”

Fjord, with Jester’s help, managed to stand. “We gotta get out of here,” he said. “Now.”

“I agree,” Beau said immediately. “I don’t wanna be around for any cops.”

“But what about Kylre?” Molly asked. “We can’t drag him, and they won’t react well to seeing him here.”

“There is nothing else we can do,” Yasha said gently. “And he attacked us. And tried to kidnap Toya.”

“They were friends, though,” Jester said quietly. “I think he really was trying to help her.”

The sirens were getting closer.

“We need to go now,” Fjord said. “We gotta leave him behind.”

“Fuck!” Molly yelled. “I don’t...I can’t...he was my friend!”

Caleb put a hand on his shoulder.

“There is nothing we can do for him,” he said firmly. “And he attacked us first. We have to go.”

“Where can we hide?” Nott asked.

Fjord spoke first. “Molly and I live not too far from here,” he said. “If we can slip outta this marina, we can hole up in our place until everything calms down.”

They all considered Kylre’s unconscious form. They all looked at Molly.

“Fine,” he said angrily. “Fucking...fucking fine.” he sighed, and shook his head. “Come on, then,” he nodded to the group. “Let’s...let’s just go.”

•

💚 ☕ ☕ 💚

#jay writes #something new for me and you #critical role #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #long post #widomauk #caleb widogast #mollymauk tealeaf #critfic #jester #fjord #beauregard #yasha #nott #ensemble fic #modern au #text

59 notes · View notes