Disclaimer: I only own Elowayen. All other characters are the property of Bioware/Atari. I'm just borrowing them.
A/N: I am SO sorry it took me this long to get this chapter updated and reposted. Accelerated classes are no joke, and I'm about ready to chuck it all away and run screaming for the hills- which is why it took me so long to get this up. Again, my apologies, and hopefully I'll have the next chapter up in a more timely fashion.
"So we're facing an archdevil on top of a power-hungry drow sorceress who would love nothing more than to see all four of us dead, possibly in quick succession of each other?" Elowayen inquired, her voice dry as she propped herself against the cracked wall.
"There's five of us now, my friend, do not forget!" Lavoera piped up cheerfully, her wings still slightly bloodstained.
"My apologies, Lavoera," Elowayen smiled at the deva's enthusiasm. "It's still not a pleasant outlook, however."
"Hmm, true," the deva said thoughtfully. "Oh, what was it that my master used to do- oh!" She whirled around and nearly toppled over as her wings smashed into a broken pillar. "Here, hold this!" she instructed Valen, and thrust her mace into his hands before flinging herself to the ground in an exaggerated pose. "My master used to think like this all the time, he said it helped him bunches!" she chirped brightly.
"Deekin must try that next time." the kobold declared from his spot next to Elowayen. "Whats you thinks Boss?"
"I think I'd like to hear what Valen has to say about my analysis of the situation first!" she laughed as she wiped at the sweat on her brow.
"I wouldn't put it quite that way, but yes." Valen nodded as he shifted the deva's mace in his grip. "We mentioned the arch-devil before, at least I was under the impression that the Seer did when you first arrived here." The weapon was extremely unfamiliar to him, unfamiliar and so damned small that he worried he would break the handle just by holding it.
"Nice glow." Nathyrra smirked from her seat atop Sodalis's coffin. "Almost pretty, isn't it Master Bard?"
"Goat-Man's weapon very pretty." Deekin agreed. "Almost as pretty as Boss."
"You four have the worst way of cheering a girl up, you know that?" Elowayen shook her head, a crookedly smile on her face as she leaned her head against the wall. "First vampire monks- monks, of all things- and now this. It's enough to make me wonder why I left Hilltop again."
"Cause Boss missed traveling." Deekin piped up. The kobold had dramatically collapsed into Elowayen's lap after the battle with Sodalis, claiming exhaustion from breathing too much fire. Both Elowayen and Nathyrra outrageously praised his efforts, causing the little reptile to preen as he subjected himself to Elowayen's careful ministrations.
Valen told himself that he was not jealous of the kobold. Even when Deekin stretched out and gave Elowayen a big, glistening-eyed pout and she responded with a laugh and a kiss to the creature's snout, he reinforced that he was not jealous of an overgrown lizard.
Nathyrra, of course, had noticed the whole thing and had her hand pressed against her mouth to stifle what sounded suspiciously like laughter.
"I did miss traveling." Elowayen admitted, her voice a welcome break from thoughts of how to murder the drow without angering the Seer. She settled more comfortably against the wall, Deekin's head still in her lap. "I missed a lot of things, but that's not why I left Hilltop."
"Why did you leave, Elowayen?" Nathyrra swung her legs up to settle into a tailor's sit, eyes curious and glowing in the dim light. "You never really told us."
The druid closed her eyes, soaking in the warmth offered by the musty stone and raging lava nearby. "I guess... it was because I just couldn't stay." she admitted after a small pause. "Master Drogan was more than a mentor, he was like a father to me. To all of us there." She paused again, as if searching for the right words.
Valen felt himself shift slightly to better hear Elowayen's story; he had mentioned bits of his past to her before, but she rarely spoke of hers. He found himself wanting to know more of her history, of her childhood and adventures before arriving in the Underdark. While he could have easily asked the bard, he found himself craving the words from her lips instead- and he wasn't the only one, it seemed.
Nathyrra acted disinterested, but he noted the subtle shifts in her movements as Elowayen spoke, while on the floor, Lavoera abandoned her ridiculous pose and now listened intently. Her silvery eyes gleamed as she leaned forward to catch the elf's words, wings finally stilled as the deva became caught up in Elowayen's tale.
"He sacrificed himself to save us, you see," Elowayen spoke quietly, as if she were divulging a secret. "To save Dorna and Deekin and I. He triggered Heurodis's trap, you see, and had to get us out before the ruin collapsed."
-o-
His staff held high, his face contorted with the effort of keeping the portal open, Drogan protected Elowayen, Dorna and Deekin from the magical energies the medusa had triggered. He shouted over the roar of magic that filled the room, his voice almost lost in the din as the spell twisted around them.
"Get going, girls! I can't hold out much longer!"
"We won't leave you!" Dorna yelled back, her own spell shield weakening under the onslaught of energies.
"Master, there must be another way!" Elowayen begged frantically. She darted to the side and narrowly avoided a stray energy blast that singed the air around her. "You can't-"
"Can, and will, you foolish child." Drogan growled, his eyes flashing. "I've lived long enough, Elowayen, and trained many fine students, but you four were my best. My best... and my favorites. I'm proud of you, Elowayen, Dorna; I want you to tell the others that I'm proud of them as well."
"Master-" Dorna pleaded. Her shield dropped, her energies spent as she moved forward to grasp at Drogan's sleeve.
"Please!" Drogan stepped away, his eyes grim as he avoided Dorna's outreached hand. "Go! Elowayen, get her out of here! Get her to safety!"
"Master Drogan, I can't-" Elowayen shook her head. "I won't leave you here to die! We can't lose you!"
"You three are the only ones who can stop her, Elowayen." Drogan's eyes shone with pride, and acceptance of his fate. "I know the world is safe in your hands. Now go. Go, and live, and fight, and make things right again."
Elowayen swallowed past the lump in her throat, nodding as she grasped Dorna's shoulder. "Come, Dorna."
"Elowayen..." the dwarf stared at her in shock, unwilling to believe that her companion would leave Drogan there alone. "We can't-"
"He's right." Elowayen cut her off with a shake of her head. "Please, Dorna- I need you. We all need you."
"Go without me." Dorna's eyes shone furiously; as Elowayen watched, the rogue scrubbed at her face with a rough hand, avoiding her gaze. "I said go!"
"Dorna."
Her head snapping up at the sound of her name, Dorna stared at Drogan with wide eyes. "Master-"
Drogan cut her off with a shake of his head, smiling. "Nay, girl. My time has come and gone. Yours is just beginning. Go with Elowayen- you know how she is about her health."
Dorna bowed her head, mumbling something in Dwarven. Drogan responded in kind, his expression affectionate. Finally, Dorna nodded, wiping at her eyes one last time. Fixing Elowayen with a look, she jerked her head towards the portal.
"You coming, elf? The kobold's already through."
-o-
Elowayen cleared her throat, eyes wet with unshed tears. "Master Drogan's sacrifice was hard to take at the time, but once everything was over, and Dorna and I returned to Hilltop, we realized that he had imparted his final lesson. He taught us that in the end, our fates are our own to control. He could have saved himself, at the cost of our lives. He could have survived, could have taught more students and lived out the rest of his days in relative peace-"
"But he didn't!" Lavoera interrupted cheerfully. "Cause you're still here!"
"I'm still here," Elowayen agreed, a bittersweet smile on her face. "And because I'm still here, I was able to see that my fate was my own. That while everyone expected me to live a life in Hilltop, to take a husband and settle down once and for all... I still had things to do. I could feel it in my soul, the tug of something, something that hadn't happened yet. I stayed at Hilltop for a while, and I tried... I tried so hard to ignore the call of the road, but..."
"But you couldn't." Valen nodded softly. Throughout her tale he moved closer, ignoring Nathyrra's knowing look until he was able to seat himself next to Elowayen. His armor clanked and rattled as he shifted to find a better position and tried to avoid stabbing her with a spine while he was at it.
"I wouldn't." she corrected gently, giving him a sideways look until he settled. "I knew I still had something to do, and I sought to find out what. I wound up traveling to the Far Forest and making my home there, in a small grove surrounded by Dryads. Once I had gotten settled there, an old friend of Drogan's appeared. Occasionally she would stop by with word of troubles plaguing one town or another, and if it were close enough I'd journey by to offer aid. Of course, things were made easier all thanks to Deek's book-"
"Boss loved the book." The kobold murmured sleepily. Elowayen giggled and continued to stroke the ridge of spines on the back of his head.
"I loved the book, and the people who loved the book loved me," she said, patting the kobold's scaled head. "And they made it easy for me to travel and find work while I searched for just what I still had to do."
"And now?" Valen couldn't help but ask her; his heart thudded in his chest as he watched her, all green and brown and pale in the torchlight, soft and delicate and so painfully real-
"And now what?" Elowayen replied, turning her head to look at him, confusion written on her features.
"And do you still feel like you have something to do, something pulling on your soul?"
"Besides the geas, you mean?" She asked wryly, a hint of a smile playing around her lips.
"Besides the geas." he acknowledged, dipping his head in assent.
"I don't know, honestly." Elowayen answered slowly, her eyes soft as she searched his face. "I would like to think that saving the world three times counts as fulfilling my quota, but who can tell what the gods have in store for us... besides the Seer, of course." she teased, in an attempt to lighten the mood.
He chuckled with her, watching how the torchlight flickered on her tired face. They had been going for so long, too paranoid to truly rest; Elowayen had used almost all her high-level spells as soon as they had opened the door to the first quarter of the dungeon, a failed attempt to clear the monks away from Valen as he tore into their ranks. Almost all of her efforts had been in vain as the monks dodged her magic, going straight at him with shining fists and snapping teeth. He met the first of the rush with the heads of his flail, turning and smashing the end of the handle into the chest of another.
-o-
He could feel the scorch of her flame whip as it shot past his head and wrapped around the throat of a monk trying to attack from behind. She pulled the creature forward, right onto Nathyrra's twin blades, before she spun around and summoned an Fire Elemental to provide cover for Deekin. Once the bard was protected, she darted forward to join him, her recently-acquired halberd glowing a malicious red as she parried a monk's blows.
She took a hit in her shoulder, a painful reminder of her sorry lack of defense, before she broke away to dart into an alcove with two of the creatures behind her. He heard her cry out in pain; his demon roared, calling forth the rage and battle lust, the desire to destroy, to kill, to defend-
A blast of fire burst out of the doors, the shrieks of the creatures almost drowning out Elowayen's chanting as she tumbled out, her hands still glowing white as she cast another spell behind her.
"Gods-damned vampires!" she spat, spinning around and raising her halberd to block another punch. "Stay dead!"
-o-
"You should rest." he stated abruptly. "You've been going for too long-"
"I'm fine, Valen." She shook her head angrily, her eyes flashing. "I won't be coddled-"
"You used almost all your spells, Elowayen. Don't think we haven't noticed how tired you are." Valen pointed to the kobold. "Besides, we would have to wake your bard, and I know how concerned you are over him."
Elowayen huffed at him indignantly. "I am not tired."
"Of course not," Valen agreed blandly, his face neutral. "You would be-"
"I'm tired!" Lavoera interrupted again, still somewhat cheerful. "I think it's from all the blood loss, ha!"
"Merely taking advantage of the situation," he continued, ignoring the deva. "The situation which we could all use to fortify ourselves before we go to battle the master of this... dungeon."
"I hate your logic sometimes." Elowayen grumbled good-naturedly. She pouted adorably at him, her pursed lips belied by the sparkle of amusement in her gaze.
He chuckled at her antics, amazed that he was not annoyed by the ridiculousness of it all. "As did the drow, and it kept them alive." He climbed to his feet before dropping the mace in Lavoera's lap. Ignoring her yelp, he turned to face Elowayen. "I will go keep watch."
"I'm really not all that tired, Valen." Elowayen muttered. She glanced at him from under her lashes, her eyes no longer filled with mirth. "I'm perfectly able to keep watch myself, you know. Deekin and the others need it more than I do, and you need rest too, you know."
"She's right, you do need rest!" the deva piped up. Valen gritted his teeth in annoyance- why Elowayen had invited the fluff-brain along, he had no idea, but she was wearing on his patience quickly.
Elowayen seemed to sense his annoyance. "Lavoera, go to sleep." the druid ordered somewhat curtly. "You and the others can recover, and Valen and I will keep watch."
"Speak for yourself, Elowayen." Nathyrra laughed as she slid off the sarcophagus. Landing lightly on her feet, she dusted off her hands with a grin. "I'll take watch, Valen. You stay here and make sure she actually rests."
"Nathyrra!" Elowayen snarled at the drow, who cheerfully waved before she skipped off to guard the door. "One of these days I'm going to kill her for her humor."
"Is that what you call it?" Valen smirked at the elf's discomfort. "I always assumed it was a drow trait, but perhaps it truly is Nathyrra."
"It's possible, but even the more tawdry comments I've heard pale in comparison to her when she's in a mood." Elowayen shook her head in disbelief. She shifted Deekin to the left in an attempt to find a more comfortable position, only to gasp in pain a second later. "Ow! Deekin, you little dragon-brain, wake up!"
"Hu- Boss?" The kobold scrabbled back, eyes hazy with sleep and confusion. "Boss, what-"
"Your damn lute snapped a string." Elowayen wrapped a hand around her bleeding arm. "I think it cut through my leathers- what do you string that blasted thing with, harpy's hair?"
"Oooh, Deekin sorry, Boss!" the little bard wailed and threw himself at her legs. Valen felt the beginning of a headache as the kobold continued to cry. "Deekin saw string was weakening but didn't fix its- this is all Deekin's fault!"
"Well, yes, it is, but you can fix it." Elowayen nudged him with a booted foot, gently catching his attention before she pushed him away. "Go restring that thing, and I'll wrap up my arm, okay?"
"Okays boss." Deekin sniffed, eyes watery with tears. "I can heals you-"
"No, Deek, save your magic for later." Elowayen jerked her head towards Valen. "He can help me with my arm; apparently he's quite the healer."
Valen jerked in surprise; he had never mentioned his healing abilities to her before, which meant that the only one who knew and could tell-
"Nathyrra." he turned to face the drow with a growl; to his annoyance, she cheerfully waved a dagger in his direction and grinned.
He swore in response.
"Ifs that's the case, why does Boss always heals Goat-Man insteads of Goat-Man healing Boss?"
"Because I am better at killing that curing, kobold." Valen growled in annoyance at the ever-present nickname. "My lady, I-"
"Valen, you will help me with my arm. Deekin, you will restring your lute. Nathyrra, stop listening to this and guard the thrice-damned door!" Elowayen snapped, her eyes flashing. "Lavoera- is still asleep, thank the Treefather."
"She's wearing on you too, isn't she?" Valen smirked again, only to have Elowayen whirl on him with annoyance clear in her features.
"You are not helping." she hissed. "You all will do as you're told, understood?"
"Yes Boss." Deekin slouched away to rifle through his pack, full of sniffles and sad, longing looks towards Elowayen; the druid ignored him and instead motioned Valen towards her pack with a grimace.
"There should be a kit in the top bag, could you-"
"Certainly, my lady." Valen moved to kneel behind her, locating the kit with little difficulty. "What now?"
"Now?" Elowayen shot him a twisted grin over her shoulder. "Help me get my chest piece and gloves off. You need to get at my arm and my armor is just in the way."
-o-
Nathyrra watched, silently, as Valen awkwardly fumbled with the buckles of Elowayen's leathers. She listened as he murmured apologies when his fingers slipped, or when he would jostle her arm. Gradually Elowayen's armor lay by her side, and her shirt was pooled around her waist. Wearing only a band around her breasts, the druid seemed perfectly at peace as Valen struggled to keep his eyes on her injury.
It was cruel to tease the tiefling so, but at the same time Nathyrra couldn't fault the surfacer. Valen was often implacable and stoic; to see him flustered was a rare treat, one the assassin intended to enjoy for as long as she could. Valen, for his part, was flushed a brilliant scarlet, his hands gentle and only slightly trembling as he touched Elowayen's arm.
The drow had to admit, the whole charade had been amusing to watch; the way the kobold's claw so easily and delicately sliced through a string on his beloved lute at just the right spot, the way Elowayen yelped and shoved him away without appearing like the whole thing had been planned out beforehand by the conspirators. Really, the only thing to make it more entertaining would be if Lavoera awoke and started blathering on and on again. Nathyrra grinned wickedly, amused by the idea of the deva awaking to the sight of a half-naked and bleeding Elowayen and blushing Valen.
The bitter scent of medicinal herbs wafted through the air. Valen had applied a cleanser to the wound, causing Elowayen to hiss and flinch in his grip. Valen gave her a wry look in return, admonishment in his gaze. The druid flushed and Nathyrra bit back a giggle; they were just so adorable!
Especially right now. Elowayen watched Valen with gentle eyes and a small smile, fascinated by something only she could see. "Tell me about how you escaped Grimash't." Elowayen whispered as he blotted at the cut with a clean rag.
The tiefling stiffened in surprise before he dipped his head in acquiescence. "Very well," he replied, his voice low. He picked up a small jar of salve and began his tale, Elowayen's gaze intense and focused only on him.
Nathyrra carefully cataloged the expressions she saw between them; curiosity on Elowayen's face, the blush on Valen's cheeks as he mumbled something too low for her to catch. The laughter in Elowayen's eyes as she teased him, the surprise in Valen's as he laughed and teased her back. Delight on Elowayen's face at Valen's laugh- even Nathyrra had to admit it was a good laugh- and the wonder at his tale of finding the Seer.
"No wonder you care for her so much." She smiled at him softly as he neatly tied the ends of her bandage. "Thank you, Valen, for sharing your past with me."
He cleared his throat, embarrassed. "It was nothing, my lady."
"Mmm, it was," she said. She reached up and touched his face with her fingertips, her expression awed. "I mean it. Thank you."
Nathyrra expected Valen to stiffen, to tear away from Elowayen and stammer apologies and excuses. He did neither; instead, he reached up and lightly touched Elowayen's fingertips with his own, his eyes closed as he murmured something too low to hear.
Elowayen blushed and ducked her head, and Valen's eyes softened as she pinked.
Looking up, the drow noticed the kobold seemed quite pleased with something as well, and now lightly strummed his lute as he watched his Boss smile at the tiefling.
Co-conspirators, indeed, the assassin thought with a smirk. Perhaps they will not need much help after all.
-o-
"What in all the hells did we do to deserve this?" Elowayen panted. The druid barely managed to stand, her leather armor torn and bloody from a swipe of Vix'thra's claws. Somehow she was able to support Nathyrra as the drow sagged against her, semi-conscious from a blow to the head. "A draco-lich? As if the demi-lich wasn't enough!"
"I agree." Valen's voice was hoarse from shouting as he shook his head. He stood near the entrance to the cave, his armor dented and scratched, with Deekin's unconscious form held in his arms. "It is hard to believe that we had so many undead within such close distance of Lith My'athar. I will have to speak to Imloth about our scouts and their patterns, as they are obviously lacking."
"Don't be too hard on them," the druid began, "It's not their faul- easy, Nathyrra!" Elowayen gasped as the assassin suddenly jerked in alarm. "Easy! It's just me."
"Elowayen?" the drow blearily lifted her head, her expression slack. "Where-"
"We're leaving." Elowayen informed her harshly. She forced Nathyrra to lean more securely against her side before she continued. "You're bleeding and Deekin's unconscious-"
"You're bleeding too, rivvil," Nathyrra noted dryly. "If our blood mixes, that makes us sisters-sworn. Did you know that?"
"Uh, no, actually." Elowayen blinked, bemused by the drow's sudden proclamation. "I would assume vows had to be spoken before that. I tend to stay away from knowledge of blood rites anyway, nasty things they are. Nathyrra, are you-"
"We need to take what we can from the horde." Nathyrra shook her head determinedly, eyes burning furiously in the light. Elowayen feared that Nathyrra had contracted a sort of fever from the dragon's claws. Her fears were confirmed when Nathyrra tried to motion towards the shadows in the back of the cave and nearly sent both of them to the floor. "It's there, in the shadows. Once we gather what we can, then we can go."
"Nathyrra, we just faced several golems and a resurrecting dragon. A dragon. Made of bone. I don't think we can handle all that gold right now."
"We could have if you didn't send Lavoera to Lith My'athar." Nathyrra told her stubbornly. "And the gold is not for us, it would be for the rebels back at camp. We are running desperately low on supplies; you heard the Seer and Imloth last time we were there! Leave the kobold with me here, and take Valen."
"Nathyrra-"
"Elowayen." Nathyrra's eyes were hazy and unfocused, but her grip was anything but. She dug her fingers into Elowayen's arm, her nails piercing into flesh that had been revealed by the dragon's claws. Elowayen yelped in pain and tried to shake her free; Nathyrra merely tightened her hold on the druid's arm. "We need that horde."
"You're a bleeding, bloody fool, Nathyrra." Elowayen muttered. She turned and forced Nathyrra towards a wall, both limping and using the other for support. "Sit, and don't move. Valen, give me Deekin. I'll heal these two while you go and gather all we can carry from the horde."
"My lady, we should not-" he began, but she shushed him and pointed to where she wanted him to lay the kobold. Warily, he deposited the bard on the stone, watching as she balled Deekin's cloak to stuff under his head.
"I know what you're about to say," she called over her shoulder, "and as it is, I agree. Nathyrra, however, does not- what's more, she's been poisoned. I need time to clear out whatever that thrice-damned beast infected her with before we can move, and I have no idea how much time this will take. Go and gather the horde, and we'll divide it equally amongst ourselves when it's time to leave. I think I can use summon Volkarion to get rid of most of the worthless items, but the rest will be going back with us."
"I shouldn't leave you unprotected," he argued, glaring down at her. "This isn't safe-"
"Consider it a present for the Seer." Elowayen gave him a tired smile as she knelt next to the drow, potions and healer kits already assembled next to her patients in neat little groups . "Besides, I think I know how to get us out of here without too much effort."
"How's that?" Valen questioned. He crouched next to her, his expression a mixture of concern and exhaustion. "We are all weary, true, but I think we can make it out of the temple."
"Even carrying a dragon's weight in gold?" She chuckled and shook her head. "No, I think not. Besides, I would rather avoid the little gnome again. One round of his metaphors was enough for me."
"Mintleaf and asparagus does sound rather... atrocious." Valen agreed. He watched as Elowayen brushed her hair behind her ears before setting to work on Nathyrra's wounds, only to have the strands slip back into her eyes. She cursed under her breath and shook it back, muttering about cutting it all off-
No. Valen's eyes widened slightly as he imagined her without the long brown curls, loose and wild down her back-
He leaned forward and gently gathered her tresses from her face, wincing as his gauntlets caught a few hairs in a crease. "My apologies." He murmured, his voice still rough from battle.
"Apologies accepted." Elowayen murmured back. She paused in her administrations to Nathyrra's injuries as he removed his gauntlets. She only began again when his fingers deftly separated and wove the strands into another braid. "Nathyrra, this might hurt." she warned the drow.
"Do what you must, Elowayen." Nathyrra closed her eyes, smiling. "I trust you."
Taking a deep breath, Elowayen prayed she was going to do this right. She was no cleric, as Dorna often told her with a grin; she could heal fairly serious and critical wounds rather well, but she had never attempted something so heavy and extensive and rushed before. With a whispered prayer to the Earthmother under her breath, Elowayen focused. Bright blue-white energy formed between her hands, the magic almost singing as she faced her injured companions. She raised one hand to Nathyrra, palm flat against the drow's chest while the other lightly grazed Deekin's temple. "Heal."
-o-
"How much?" Elowayen stared at him in amazement, her mouth open as he smugly displayed the dragon's horde.
I am not being dramatic, he told himself as Elowayen gasped and scrambled to her feet. I am merely... showing off the results of our labors.
"Well done, Valen!" Nathyrra cheered tiredly; even though she had benefited from the healing, she was still rather ragged and worn. The kobold wasn't much better off, but he was at least awake and purring as Nathyrra stroked his head.
"Thousands, and all for Lith My'athar and the rebels. We can buy supplies with this, once the war is over." Valen grinned, his eyes burning bright with pride. "We can survive!"
"Anything we can use now? Stamina potions, maybe, or potions for speed?" Elowayen stumbled her way over to him, her legs numb from kneeling in one position for so long. "Any healing kits?"
"No, my lady. It is all gold and gems, with a few weapons none of us can use."
"Typical," she cursed, lips thinned in displeasure. "Well, let's pack everything. If you need help carrying things, I've got a few magic bags that still have some space. We'll take it all back with us- I'm sure there's someone who can use these things."
"Boooooooss. Are we going up the rope again? Deekin doesn't like the rope." the kobold whined from Nathyrra's lap. "Can't Boss carry Deekin instead?" he asked hopefully, eyes shining.
"Sorry Deeks, no carrying." Elowayen snickered. She leaned down and tweaked his snout with her fingers. "We will, however, be gating out of here."
"Oooh, with the Reaper Relic?" Deekin clapped his hands together and wriggled in place, his snout twisted into a grin. "Deekin hasn't seen Reaper Ghost in ages!"
Elowayen nodded as she handed Valen one of her bags. "Exactly right, Deeks. And then back to Lith My'athar to have the Seer and her clerics look us over before coming back here. No sense in running back into the caverns when we can easily 'port back."
"Boss doesn't like teleports though." Deekin sounded suspicious. "Boss hates teleports."
"Well, Boss also hates running through dark, wet caves filled with harpies and umber hulks when she still has to fight beholders and illithids." Elowayen replied, crinkling her nose at the bard. "Besides, we can use it to drop off the supplies for the rebels and get checked over by the clerics. I'm not turning down a full healing."
"Didn't you heal us completely, Elowayen?" Nathyrra queried, a brow cocked at the druid's admission. "I feel relatively healthy and fit now, but I can imagine you are tired after that."
"I am tired," Elowayen admitted. She rubbed the back of her head sheepishly, eyes peeking from under her lashes. "And my armor needs repairing-"
"Replacement is more like it, my friend." Nathyrra laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "I know you're attached to your Greenleaf, but you've been attacked by a draco-lich. A bone dragon, as you pointed out so eloquently. It's a lost cause to save it."
"But I liked this armor." Elowayen said mournfully. "I've had it with me since-"
"Undermountain, Boss." Deekin chimed in helpfully. "Boss had other armor stolen by drow and nots gets it back."
Elowayen wilted at the kobold's statement. "Yes, thank you for the reminder, Deekin. I also lost several weapons, amulets, rings, and some bloody good potions too." she muttered. "Gods-damned scavengers."
"Perhaps a hot bath will improve your temperament," Nathyrra suggested innocently, delighting in the blush her statement caused both the druid and the warrior. "Or perhaps only make it worse?" she added wickedly, snickering at the glares both sent her way.
"That's it, you're carrying the scythe." Elowayen announced, a malicious gleam in her eyes. "And the dragon armor."
"Dragon armor, Boss?"
Elowayen merely grinned as Valen handed over the weapon with a straight face, dropping the heavy plate at Nathyrra's feet with a loud clang. "Tick tock, Nathyrra."
-o-
"What is this place?" Nathyrra's hushed whisper carried to the far reaches of the Reaper's Sanctuary, her voice full of awe. "Elowayen, where-"
"It's a way-station, of sorts. I think." the druid shrugged. "The Reaper-"
"Reaper?" Nathyrra interrupted. "I'm not interested in meeting any Reapers today, Elowayen. Let us be gone from here quickly."
"Calm down," Elowayen gave the drow a reassuring smile. "He's a spirit, nothing more; completely harmless. He's merely the guardian of this place and the doors that lead to and from here."
"And Reaper Ghost is good at cards." Deekin stepped up next to Elowayen, his crossbow resting lightly on his shoulder.
"And the Reaper's good at cards." Elowayen agreed, laughter coloring her voice. "He really enjoys Markesh's Pyramid."
"Deekin thinks Reaper Ghost cheats sometimes." Deekin's brow was furrowed slightly. "Reaper Ghost likes to win bets with Boss."
Nathyrra and Valen both stared in amazement at the druid. "You bet... with a planar spirit?" Valen still couldn't believe the nerve of the surface elf at times; baring her throat to him when he was lost in the demon-rage was one thing, betting with a spirit who could and would rip her soul away was insanity.
The elf in question shrugged indifferently. "We only bet insignificant things- if I win, he shows me a vision of another world, another plane. If he wins, I bring him a trinket from my travels. It's always something small; a flower, a book, a painting from a roadside vendor. Just little bits of life for him."
Elowayen stepped close to Valen and lightly touched his arm. Her head tilted back, she looked him directly in the eyes and held his gaze. He glared back in return, disapproval clear in his eyes and the tight line of his lips.
"It's foolish." Valen began, his tone lecturing and stiff.
Elowayen shrugged, her lack of concern evident. "He is... lonely. As far as I can tell, I am the only one who even comes through. He has told me the reason for that before, even explained it to me a few times, but I'm still not quite sure how or why that is exactly. He calls this place a nexus, and says my Relic has something to do with it, but..." Elowayen gave a half-smile, motioning to the planar gate in front of them. "I generally only use it to avoid dying, or when I get so tired I can't even imagine walking ten feet, let alone ten miles, so I'm rarely ever here. If that means making sure I have some sort of gift for him when I pass through, then I do."
"You are a strange one, Elowayen." Valen shook his head at her, still shocked by her recklessness. "To gamble with such a spirit is foolish beyond all measure-"
"Can Goat-Man skip lecture until later?" Deekin whined, nervous and dancing in place. "Deekin not like Reaper Ghost's home much either."
"In a minute, Deeks," Elowayen knelt on the stone dais, hands buried deep within her pack as she rummaged for something. "Thank you for your concern, Valen, but this tradition is something I have no plans of changing anytime soon. Ah."
She withdrew her hands, a rather worn, leather-bound book tightly clutched between them. She presented it to Valen with a slight flourish, her gaze defiant and proud. "This is what I planned on leaving him the next time I came through- does it meet with your approval?"
"'Wind by the Fireside'," he read the title aloud, looking up at the elf with an arched brow. "A poem?"
"Not just any poem, my favorite poem," Elowayen gently chided as she placed the book at the foot of the dais. "I've always loved this poem, and in our last discussion, the Reaper asked for me to bring him a copy. I've held on to this for a while now, and I think he should have it."
"Why is that?" Valen asked, curious.
"Perhaps... perhaps because I know how it is to be the one waiting by the fire." Elowayen's expression softened, her eyes slightly unfocused as she regarded the book by her feet. "I have spent my life searching for something to quell the ache in my heart, to find something or someone to ease the pull of Fate." She turned to face him then, a brilliant smile on her face. "Perhaps because now I finally understand just how it feels to wait so long for a love worth the time, the sorrow, the wait. I know, but the Reaper does not, and so I want him to understand more of the mortal life."
"How... sentimental," Nathyrra said, her eyes thoughtful as she studied the druid. "And so like a surfacer."
"So like a drow to dismiss affections," Elowayen teased back. She rose to her feet, pack in hand and turned to the planar gate-
Only to find a tiefling in her way.
"Might we speak?"
"Certainly, Valen." Elowayen blinked in mild confusion. "What would you like?"
"I wish to know... who has won your affections so?" Valen cleared his throat, his tail rigid behind him and a blush bright on his cheeks. "We have not met many in our time here that I would consider proper mates for you, and you have not spoken of anyone left behind on the surface."
Elowayen, for her part, did not laugh, merely smiled sweetly at him. "My heart belongs to a man of great character. He is warrior of the planes, brave and strong and fierce in all that he does. A warrior who refuses to acknowledge his own heart, instead standing by his duty and the promises he made long before we met." She looked away, the tips of her ears flushed pink. "He is a man worth loving, with a heart worth knowing, even if he himself denies it."
"He denies you?" Valen was outraged; the idea that someone would turn away from the warmth and light Elowayen radiated was unthinkable-
"He fears his past, and thinks to protect me from himself," she replied, turning once more to face him. "He thinks that his blood will control him always, that I will never be safe from the darkness in his past."
"He seeks to protect to then," Valen's mind reeled as he tried to match the portrait of Elowayen's warrior to someone she had mentioned before, or someone they had met- perhaps one of the avariel-
"He does not understand that I do not care what or who he was." Elowayen interrupted his thoughts with a shake of her head. "He is no more a slave to his past than I am, and for him to think otherwise is foolish."
"I wish to meet this man of yours," Valen announced gruffly. "And thrash him soundly for his foolishness."
Elowayen blinked at him, amused. "But Valen... you already have!"
Leaving a stunned tiefling behind her, Elowayen strode to the planar gate. She grinned over her shoulder, eyes sparkling and mischievous as she paused in front of the portal. "You'll follow me, won't you?" She called out, hand held invitingly in front of her.
"Of course." Nathyrra grinned back, delighted by the arrested look on Valen's face. She passed the still-frozen tiefling to take the druid's offered hand, a sly look thrown behind her as she moved to Elowayen's side. "There is too much at stake, after all."
"Of course," Elowayen replied neutrally, her lips twitching with contained mirth.
"Deekin always follows Boss," the kobold yipped, scrambling after the assassin. He gripped Elowayen's hand carefully, mindful of his claws. "Just like Boss never forgets Deekin."
"I haven't yet, and I won't still." the druid agreed, freeing her hand to give him an affectionate pat on the head.
"We should hurry, Elowayen," Nathyrra nudged her with a shoulder, red eyes heavy and worn. "We can jest later."
"Apologies, Nathyrra." Elowayen looked at their last companion, still standing by the dais. "Valen?" she called out, her free hand held invitingly. "Are you coming?"
For a minute he didn't reply; Elowayen's heart hammered in her chest as she waited for his response. She was rewarded for her patience when he gave a sharp nod and moved to join them at the entrance to the gate.
"I am yours to command." he replied stiffly, his tail rigidly twitching from side-to-side. Elowayen was reminded, rather forcibly, of an agitated panther glaring at her from across the room, and had to bite back a laugh at the sight.
With a smile, she stepped close and raised herself on her toes. Startled, he froze in place again as she braced her hands on his shoulders and leaned up to whisper in his ear, "Mine to command, hmm?" Her breath was hot on his skin; her voice sent shivers down his spine. "Oh, I like that."
With a laugh, she grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the portal. Nathyrra reached out and grasped his free hand, the startled yelp of the kobold ringing in his ears as they fell through the swirling fog of the gate. Sharp, bitter cold slammed into him, a touch of the Reaper's power as they journeyed through the planar energies.
His senses dulled by the cold, Valen focused on the feel of her fingers entwined with his as they traveled, the sound of her laughter as they spiraled through the gray fog.
They materialized in the receiving room of Eilistraee's temple with a flash of light and the roar of magic. Once again, the kobold went tumbling into a heap of claws and wings while Nathyrra righted herself almost immediately, saluting the Seer with grace and aplomb.
Elowayen, however, wavered and went to her knees almost immediately. Ignoring the gazes of those assembled, he knelt at her side in concern.
"Portals are still a form of teleports," she whispered hazily, a weak smile on her lips. "I should be fine in a moment, don't worry."
"I will always worry," he replied as he gently guided her to her feet. "It is... a specialty of mine."
She shook her head wearily, her eyes unfocused from the teleportation. "My brave warrior," she mumbled before she sagged against him, limp and exhausted from their battles with the undead.
Valen could feel a blush burn through his body, suddenly conscious of all those present and watching; the Seer's calculating look, Nathyrra and Deekin's matching grins- even the deva stood off to one side, beaming with delight as Elowayen righted herself in his arms.
He stepped away as the Seer approached. With a nod, he turned and left the temple as Elowayen began to give a report of their successes in the search for allies. He paused at the door to cast one last glance behind him-
To catch Elowayen's wink as she sauntered off to the temple baths, arm around Nathyrra's shoulders with the kobold and deva at their heels. He flushed, aware of the appraising glances from the assembled drow warriors as he strode through the temple doors. He stopped only to demand the location of Imloth from a frightened youth before continuing on his path away from the maddening woman in the temple.
Her words whispered through his mind, replaying over and over until his face was as bright as his hair.
Mine to command, hmm? I like that.
