Author's Note: Thanks for reading!
Disclaimer: I don't own Dungeons and Dragons!


"Starry! Starry! Starry!"

Seated around a giant table, the bandits chanted his name as placed his mandolin in its case. Standing at the center of the table, he waved to every member of the audience and basked in their admiration of him until a slamming on the table commanded everyone's attention.

Sighing, Starry turned to the source: Gerard. Huge frame shaking from laughter, he grabbed a nearby cup and downed it, spilling ale into his dark beard. Tossing it aside, he beamed at Starry. "Few more 'o those performances, might let you live!"

At his side, a provocatively dressed blonde slapped Gerard and smiled at Starry. "That was wonderful, thank you, Starry."

Bowing, Starry left the two to bicker and maneuvered through plates and food to return to his seat, where the man on his left pushed a plate of meat in front of him. On his right, however...

Squirming in his chair and mumbling to himself, the red-robed guest of honor paid no mind to the feast in front of him. Hands shaking, he toyed with the hood covering his face and let his eyes wander the room. As the creep turned toward Starry, he looked away as to avoid a conversation. No such luck, the man posed an odd question.

"Damn copycat, taking my name, who the hell do you think you are?"

Starry turned to confront him, frowning when he saw the man twiddling his thumbs as though nothing happened. Starry clenched his fist to keep from slugging the man. As weaselly as this guy was, he was Starry's only chance at escaping with the love of his life: Erika.

Elbow on the table, the woman in question was staring into space as Gerard partied with his men. Catching Starry's eyes, she shot him a knowing smile and nodded her head in the direction of their guest.

Making a fist, he turned it to the side and stuck his thumb up, prompting her to look away while waving a fist at him.

Shrugging, Starry turned back to their meal ticket, who was now staring at his hand and copying the gesture he'd just shown to Erika.

"Who's the copycat now?" Starry slapped himself for saying that aloud. "That is, you have the scroll, don't you?"

The scroll in question was, allegedly, able to send a message to the only person that would hire somebody so unreliable; Anastasia. Anastasia was an up-and-coming wizard studying in the Northern Tower and, for whatever reason, she sought to befriend a band of outlaws through food and wine. Not that he was complaining, since it gave him a chance to escape this hellhole with a new wife and son.

Rummaging through his cloak, the visitor grinned as he produced a rolled up sheet of parchment. Reaching for it, Starry let out a grunt as the man slapped his hand away and held it tightly. "Don't touch it, please."

He certainly wasn't trying to make any friends. Starry rolled his eyes and pointed at Gerard, who was now stuffing his face while Erika watched. "You wanna hand it to that guy, be my guest!"

Clutching the paper, he rose and stepped away from the table, only making it a few steps before he ran into a throng of bandits, milling about the room.

"Leaving so soon?" one of them sneered at their newfound company; at his waist was a fancy rapier that contrasted with the rest of the brigade's rusting and chipped gear, meaning it could only be Falcon.

"Ah, I..." like a blushing maiden, the socially inept messenger stood there and started mumbling to himself.

"The hell?" another man, this one with a bow strapped to his back, joined the conversation. "Where's your bandit spirit, boy?"

Shrinking under their gaze, he shrugged, causing their eyes to widen in mock wonderment. Their exaggerated motions were drawing others, maybe he should st—

"Gonna help 'em?"

Jolted by the sudden question, Starry didn't need to look behind him to know who it was; the foliage wearing sharpshooter that ambushed him not so long ago. "I told you not to sneak up on me like that, Treylin."

In his mind, he could imagine the lithe man rolling his shoulders. "Figured you'd wanna keep 'em from gettin' killed a'fore th' plan."

Shaking his head at the rogue's strange manner of speaking, Starry stood. "It just so happens that I was on my way to do that now, thank you very much!" hurrying to the forming circle, and better yet, away from Treylin, he broke through the crowd to put an arm around his increasingly nervous patsy.

"Hey, fellas, mind lettin' us through?" they all swore at him for ruining their fun, but Starry ignored them; the only person whose opinion mattered was Falcon.

Falcon closed his eyes and put a finger to his chin, humming over his options. Starry wasn't an idiot, he knew this was just posturing.

In the days since Treylin recruited Starry on the grounds that he would be fine entertainment, if nothing else, Starry had the chance to see everyone at work as they used him as a pack mule whenever things needed moving. If he had enough time, he'd be able to build a profile on all of them, but since he'd only been here a short while, he made figuring out who the top dogs were, and then devising a way to defeat them, his priorities.

At the top of the chain was Gerard, who despite his oafish demeanor, did manage to this lot. Still, he'd never actually seen him in an actual fight, but in his long career as a musician, Starry knew how to deal with those types: very far away.

Next came Treylin, who more or less had free reign to do as he pleased within the group, using his light-footed ways to deal with any threats. While he wasn't exactly a friend, Starry did concede that, barring Erika, he was the best of this sorry bunch. He'd even offered to teach Starry a few things about stealth, claiming it'd help him avoid getting harassed by men like Falcon.

Finally, there were Falcon and his sister, Raina. Raina was kindhearted for an outlaw, and almost all of the gang treated her with respect, in spite of her many flaws. Almost all of them, because, being her brother, the elder sibling made it a point to hassle her every step of the way. As soon as the messenger arrived with carts full of food, he sent her out to patrol "for anyone that may have followed him."

Armed with this knowledge, Starry signed and shoved his companion behind him, preparing for the inevitable conflict between good and evil.

Falcon laughed and shook his head. Advancing, the taller man stepped closer to Starry. "So, think you can take me, Stars?"

"Yeah, I can take you, and," Starry puffed out his chest. "Why not make it interesting?"

"Ain't much you c'n offer me, I'll just take it when 'yer knocked out."

"Ah, but what if it was..." he stepped back and flourished. "To. The. Death?"

After a few seconds, Falcon licked his lips. The gears that dull head of his were finally getting some exercise. In general, killing other members of the gang was frowned upon, as they were bandits, not barbarians. But, if you cleared it with your boss first...

Taking the lack of objections as his answer, Starry turned to his companion, saw he'd wandered off, and sighed. The messenger was annoying, yet, soon enough, they would be rid of each other.

An arm around his shoulder pulled him close. "She wandered off that way."

Following Falcon's finger, Starry saw that the visitor skulked over to Erika, and had handed the scroll to her instead of Gerard. Coward. he , after a moment, realized what Falcon had said. "She?"

Dragging him along, Falcon nodded. "Yeah, the red robed woman or whatever, right?"

"That's... I..." he fought back a laugh. "Yeah, her."

Together, they made their way to Gerard and Erika, Falcon's presence parting even the rowdiest of party-goers.

"Ah, Starry!" Erika's voice brightened his dreary day yet again. She was fretting over her son, Taylor, who stood on the table, scroll in hand and wearing a gray robe a few sizes too large. "I just had. The. Most. Wonderful. Idea!"

Gerard placed an arm between the Erika and Taylor, prodding the young boy to the center of the table, where Starry had just performed.

Starry squinted at their guest, who was too focused on Taylor to notice. "What's this, then?"

"The scroll, the Sending, that is," not looking, Erika grabbed Starry's hand and tugged, forcing Falcon to let go. "This is a good chance for Taylor to show off the skills you've taught him!"

While it was true he got stuck with babysitting duty a couple of times, Starry only taught the kid a few parlor tricks, not how to read a scroll. Did she guess I was in trouble, and wanted to make me seem good? Or maybe—

The sound of banging shook him from his thoughts.

Gerard shot a glare at anyone not paying attention to his son. When the hall was silent, he leaned forward and beamed at the boy.

Holding a long sheet of paper, Taylor was careful not to step on food as he spoke.

"Members of the b-ban... banditry?" he shrugged. "Members of the banditry, be amazed!" without any prelude, he closed his eyes and held up his right hand. Slowly, the paper disintegrated, activated by the magical energy Taylor pumped into it. At the same time, his hand began to glow a dull orange.

Taking it all in, Starry couldn't help but critique the speech. His voice was good and loud, but all kids are like that. He also stumbled over the word 'banditry' which, given his family situation, is a tad surprising...

Onstage, the scroll disappeared, yet Taylor's light had become a sun. The entire room was painted white, prompting the brigade to close their eyes or risk blindness.

Following their lead, Starry frowned as more light filtered through. Unable to shake the luminescence, he raised a hand, ready to place it over his eyes, when a wetness made him halt. Shrugging, he rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand, trying to figure out what fell on him, when a sweet, beautiful voice made a sound it should never have to make.

Erika's shriek jolted his eyes open, but he couldn't bring himself to look at her. Instead, he could only stare straight ahead, into the sun that engulfed Taylor. It was beautiful, he was up on a stage, performing for a crowd, in front of Starry and Erika. He was the true star in this situation, he was the real winner.

He could imagine it now, Starry he would grab Erika while the crowd was distracted, then flee the encampment. Avoiding the guards would be a simple matter after the secrets Treylin taught him. Speaking of Treylin, Starry couldn't help but like him. Since he was such a nice guy, maybe he'd find a way to sneak Taylor out of the camp and meet up with Starry and Erika. Then the four of them could build a life together, with Starry dazzling crowds, Treylin stealing from the audience, and Erika and Taylor his loving family.

As the great light grew closer, the savvy part of him knew that none of that would ever happen, and it infuriated him.

Struggling to look away, he wanted one last look at the love of his life, hoping against hope that the second part of the story was true.

As the profile of a long haired blonde, beautifully dressed, with flawless pale skin, entered his sight, he took solace in the fact that in his final moments, he got to see her, one last time.

Then the world turned dark as the light engulfed him.


Smoke. Ash. Bones. Burnt Food. The room was a sooty wasteland.

The Dining Table. Big, round, covered in food, was now just an ash covered mess, barely holding up in light of recent events.

Huddled under a red cloak, Star, the harbinger of their destruction, smiled to himself. His impostor, the one called Starry, was now just another nameless fool, destroyed by someone greater than him.

Opening the cloak, he winced as the hot air started to affect him. Sweating, he hoisted himself onto the table and crouched at the corpse of the one that set off the trapped scroll. The boy's face was red, contorted into a hideously silent scream.

The sight of it was unpleasant. Star would always do whatever Anastasia asked of him, he had no choice. It was getting harder to pretend they were equals, what with all the passive-aggressive jabs she made. He wasn't as experienced as her, but with all their resources, there should've been a less disgusting way to clear the room.

And now, he had to cut off the kid's head and take it back to their tower. After that, we can finally...

Wait, what? his thoughts halted as the gravity of the situation hit him.

He had no idea why they needed the head.

She did not explain anything to him.

He had no idea why he was doing this.

Biting his lip, Star glanced at the door leading downstairs. Was there really no reason to do this? In hindsight, this was essentially gratuitous violence. He didn't like the copycat, but there were millions of things he could be doing instead. Grunt work like this was one of the reasons she was so far ahead of him. Maybe he should hide out here for a few weeks, make her worry.

Well, whatever, she can get her own heads. Glad Anastasia would be getting nothing from this, Star stood, only to be shoved back down.

A red-faced skull using blackened hands to grip a greataxe aimed its disfigured head at him. Opening its mouth to reveal an unburnt set of yellowing teeth, it swung. Seizing up, Star closed his eyes and braced for the deathblow...

CRRRRRRRRRRRRRK—

That he could still hear brought a sense of relief. Opening his eyes, the skull fiend was struggling to free its axe from the table. Star raised a fist and concentrated, arcane might entering reality and bending it to his will. Turning this energy into a spell, the air around him chilled as his hand took on a blue hue. Grinning, he began to speak the word needed to activate the spell, only to be interrupted by a foot planting itself on his chest. Having abandoned its weapon, the former bandit deliberately put all of its weight on a blackened foot, leering down at Star as it had him at its mercy. Bearing down on him, it nodded and raised its foot, poised to end the life of the one that took everything from him—

—only to pause as several inches of steel appeared through its chest.

Balanced on a single foot, the last of the bandits finally succumbed to his wounds and toppled sideways, covering the child he fought so hard to protect.

In place of the monster stood a goddess. Blonde curls framing a beautiful pale face entered Star's sight. Weaponless, she fell to her knees and stared vacantly ahead, arms wrapped around herself in spite of the heat.

A whirlwind of emotions battered Star. For years, he thought he'd never see her again. Wearing a bloodied set of leather armor, plunging a sword through people, if he were a lesser man, an inability to recognize her would be understandable.

But no, her blonde hair made it obvious. The woman that entered a bandit hideout, prepared to kill all who stood in her way, was the object of his affection from all those years ago. She'd returned, their mutual love for one another guiding her to the site of his latest victory against Starry and his detestable assortment of liars, thieves, and cheats.

His savior's head spun as she took in the room, then, after taking a deep breath, she cried what could only be tears of joy. That she felt so strongly for him was too much for Star to handle.

He swooned.