"I am indispensable. In. De. Spensable. Come on admit it."
Yasha pursed her lips and looked down at Enserric a moment, before turning the whet stone in her hands and starting work on the edge again. "I think of it more as a team effort," she replied blandly.
"Team effort? Team effort she says. And who, pray tell, thought to grab that book in the first place?" he demanded haughtily.
"You did, of course," she said, keeping the whetstone running along the blade's edge. "But Valen figured out how to use the machine, I suggested you look for something to do with numbers, and Deekin found the right section and figured out that the golems were saying the number pairs that we could use to control them."
"None of that would have been possible if I hadn't thought of the book to begin with."
Yasha looked up from the blade at the others. Deekin had stacks of parchment scattered around him, with an ink-tipped quill poised above a half empty page. He had paused, though, and was looking up at her with bright-eyed interest. Valen sat with his back to the wall, preparing to get some sleep. His penchant for sleeping upright when camping in dangerous situations seemed odd, but she figured one could develop odd habits growing up fighting in the Abyss. The tiefling didn't appear to be paying much attention to the conversation, but then again he just looked like he'd just laid his head back against the wall and could open his eyes and wake at any moment. She turned her attention back to the sword. "You're not much of a team player, Enserric. You know that?"
"I just want to make you admit that I have been indispensable on this mission. There's no reason for you to be hostile," he added, nearly sniffing.
"Why do you want me to admit that? And for the record, I'm not being hostile. You've seen me hostile, and this is not it. In fact, if I remember correctly, you were the one being hostile. Or don't you remember attacking me?"
"What? When did I attack you?"
Yasha raised her eyebrows and looked down at the blade. "You don't remember leaping right out of my hands and turning on me?"
"What? That was not my fault, and you know it. Can I help it that this crazy golem making mage had invented a magical device that could control weapons from afar?"
"Well, one would have thought you could have helped it somewhat, Enserric. Or at least tried a little harder not to hit me."
"I did try to warn you from which direction I was coming."
"Thanks ever so much, Enserric."
"I'm still a bit upset you destroyed that machine. I would have loved to see how he did that."
"Alas, Enserric, at the time I felt it more important that make sure you stopped attacking me. If I had known the workings of the machine was that important to you, I would have, of course, laid down my life so that you would gain access to that knowledge."
"Bah. This is neither here nor there. Why is it so difficult for you to admit that you are better off wielding me than that precious holy avenger of yours?"
Yasha frowned and stayed silent. She wasn't going to even try to explain to Enserric that it seemed nearly sacrilegious to say such a thing. Besides, sniping with Enserric was helping her vent some of the little knot of anger she was holding in her chest.
She looked up at the kobold sitting across from her. "Deekin, in all of your bardic lore, have you ever heard of a talking sword that whined quite this much?"
Deekin started to look thoughtful, but did not get a chance to reply before Enserric exploded. "Whine? Whine?! You insufferable... I am certainly not whining. And why are you doing that?"
"Doing what?" she asked, puzzled.
"Using that whetstone on me. I'll have you know that I haven't a knick or a dullness on me."
Yasha paused and ran her finger along the edge of the blade. He was right. Despite the fact that most of the enemies they had battled on ths tower had been made of either metal or stone, Enserric's fine crafting and powerful magic had kept him both sharp and whole. Using the whetstone on her sword before she went to sleep was a habit, though, and she usually used the time to allow herself to think. Right now, she really felt she needed to think. Then something else occurred to her.
"Does it hurt?"
"What?"
"Using the whetstone on you. Does it hurt?"
He paused for a moment. "Well, no. It doesn't hurt, really. But it is annoying."
"Ah. And I should avoid annoying you?" she asked as innocently as she could.
"Yes!"
Yasha shook her head and slid Enserric back into his scabbard, much to his relief, apparently. He fell silent, in any case, which indicated to Yasha that he was either content or angry. She looked around the large room, breathing deeply to try to focus her mind without the soothing rhythm of using a whetstone to aid her. Across the hall, another small metallic golem trod by. Most could not resist the urge to peer at their corner curiously; though they were courteous enough not to wander too close while Yasha and her friends were preparing to rest.
The paladin gnawed on her lower lip. Curious. Courteous. These were not words she would usually use when describing magical constructs. She could not deny, however, that the golems they had met on this floor were very different from the ones they had encountered on the previous one. They had personalities. They apparently had feelings, hopes, and jealousies. There was even a full-fledged rivalry between two groups, one that wished to stay and hoped for the return of their creator, while the other were rebels who felt abandoned and justified in trying to strike out on their own. She couldn't think of a situation less like what she expected in the fortress of this ancient golem maker.
They had spoken with the leaders of both camps, and it seemed that they would likely need to side with one or the other if they were to gain aid from any of the powerful golem factions. Yasha still hoped that they might find the Maker, or some proof of his intent, and thus find some way to make peace between the two sides.
Valen had scoffed at the idea, suggesting that particular hope was, to put it mildly, a tad too optimistic a goal. The little surge of sullenness growled in her again. Sure it was optimistic, but there was nothing wrong with that, was there?
She sighed and rubbed her face. Her thoughts were running in circles. Perhaps if she went to sleep, things would seem clearer. She nodded to Deekin, who was taking first watch, and curled up under her blanket. It took her quite some time to still her mind enough to sleep.
Yasha woke up angry. She tried to rid herself of the tight, heavy feeling before she said her morning prayers. She prayed to Tyr for clarity of judgment. She prayed to Ilmater for patience in her time of trial. She even prayed to Tymora for a little bit of good luck for a change. When she prayed to her patron, Torm, she did feel the cool, invigorating strength of presence and power. The tingle of his blessing lingered after she had finished her prayers.
But so did that little, glowing ember of anger.
She shook herself as she started pulling on her armor, and tried once more to focus on the more immediate concerns of the golem factions and how to deal with them. She wondered if it said anything about her that she felt safest bedding down near the rebel faction. Of course, the leader of the rebel faction wanted a power source so that they could leave. The leader of the loyalist had wanted the rebel leader's head.
No doubt Valen is surprised. He probably took it for granted that I would automatically side with the traditionalists, regardless.
Yasha scowled at herself again. That was unfair and she knew it. Valen had said no such thing. Indeed, though he seemed a bit pensive and expressed some misgivings about the viability of searching for the Maker, he had been nothing but courteous and helpful since their little discussion on the boat. She pondered this, and felt the flicker of anger get smothered by confusion and guilt.
That doesn't give him the right to say what he said on the boat, though.
"Well, that little bout of rationality didn't last very long," Yasha grumbled to herself softly. She sighed. "I hate waking up angry."
Deekin, who was just curling up for his turn to rest, looked up at her sharply. "Deekin was just doing what you said, Boss. You said you wanted little Deekin to wake you up early, so..."
"Sorry Deekin," she interrupted quietly, running her fingers through her hair in agitation. "I'm not angry at you. I went to sleep angry and woke up the same way."
"Oh," the kobold said, obviously relieved. "Deekin thoughts you was just feeling bad from the fish stew last night. Deekin is glad that's not the case. You don't want to know what happened last time someone gots sick from Deekin's fish stew."
Yasha was pretty sure he was right, so decided not to pursue that thought any further. She looked down at her hands for a moment, then shook her head and went back to pulling on her armor. They were both silent for a while before Deekin pulled himself up on his elbows and piped up again.
"Deekin can't help but wonder, Boss. Why were you angry when you went to sleep? You still mads about the geas spell?"
She froze in the midst of pulling on her leggings. Was there some rational way she could explain her hurt feelings? Doubtful. She forced her hands to go back to their work, though they moved stiffer and more mechanically than before.
"A little, yes," she finally admitted.
The kobold mulled over her response for a while. "Deekin can see that," he finally pronounced. Then he tilted his head at her. "But it wasn't bothering you this much before, Boss. You waking up angry often lately and not telling Deekin?"
Yasha pursed her lips but continued to focus on her hands as she shrugged her armor's padding over her shoulders. "I've been trying not to go to sleep angry in the first place. I grew up being told that it poisons the spirit to do so."
The idea seemed to strike the little bard as fascinating. "You think that's true, Boss?"
She didn't have to think about that one for long. "Yes."
He considered her for a bit. "But you didn't say, Boss. Why'd you go to sleep angry last night, if you tryings not to?"
Yasha had everything on but her cuirass, now. That was still in the hands of the leader of the rebel golems, as he had volunteered to help remove the dent his 'brother' had put in it when it had tried to make her one with the wall upstairs. Out of armor to put on, she no longer had a good excuse to look elsewhere.
She met his eyes and smiled wanly. "Perhaps I should have gone with the 'bad fish stew' excuse." She shook her head as Deekin frowned. "But I couldn't lie to you like that, Deekin," she added.
"Who are you mad at, boss?"
"I didn't say I was mad at anyone else, Deekin," she replied as evenly as she could.
"Not little Deekin?"
"No, I'm not mad at you Deekin. I already said that."
"You mad at the golems?"
"No."
"The Boatman?"
"No."
"You mad at the Seer?"
"Certainly not, Deekin." Yasha snapped. She was aware that she was starting to have trouble keeping her voice low.
"Nathyrra?"
"Deekin, really. Please stop."
"You mad at yourself?" he asked.
Yasha looked at him sharply, but there was nothing in his glittering eyes but open, guileless curiosity. She chewed on that idea for a moment. "Partially, perhaps."
His eyes glittered as he stared at her, his reptilian head still propped on his scaly hands. "Partially, Boss?"
She raised her eyebrows and tried her best to give him a regal, I-don't-want-to talk look. It didn't work, of course.
"You mad at Valen?"
Yasha avoided looking at the said sleeping tiefling, and made an impatient clucking sound with her tongue. "Shouldn't you be getting some sleep? I'm ready to take my turn at watch," she whispered.
He frowned, and his eyes went from glittering to morose in a heartbeat. "You don't want to talk to little Deekin, boss?"
"I didn't say that Deekin. I..." She frowned down at the pouting kobold. Then she looked around the room impatiently, and waved him with her. "Come on."
His enthusiasm returned abruptly as he hopped up and followed her away from their corner. She pulled him far enough that she felt certain they were out of Valen's hearing range, but close enough they could still keep watch. She knelt before Deekin so that they were face to face and took a deep breath.
"Yes, I'm still mad at Valen," she began. Then she paused and considered the kobold for a moment before adding, "Do you think I'm being unreasonable?"
He tilted his head at her. It felt odd to talk to him face to face like this. "You say you don't want to wake up angry because it's bad for the soul, and you say you don't want to go to sleep angry, and then ask little Deekin if it's bad you're angry? I don't know, Boss. You seems to think it's bad, so Deekin will go along with you."
Yasha opened her mouth to protest, and snapped it closed again. His words did sound a lot like what she had said, though she hadn't thought of it quite that way before.
"You don't think I'm a narrow-minded or haughty, do you Deekin?" She hated how plaintive she sounded, but needed to ask the question.
"No Boss! You've always been very kind to little Deekin, anyway."
She nodded, and smiled slightly to herself. She wondered if she should be concerned that she put so much store in what the little kobold thought of her, but couldn't deny that his simple words made her feel better. "Well, what do you think I should do about being angry then?" she finally asked.
Deekin thought about it for a bit. "Well, the old boss would have just eaten someone that made him that mad."
Yasha bit her tongue on the first response that came to mind. Then she grinned, shaking her head. "I'm pretty sure that's not an option I want to go with, Deekin."
"Well, Deekin didn't think so, really, Boss. What you want to do?"
"I want to prove he's wrong."
"Good idea," he responded, nodding. "Go with that one, Boss."
Yasha frowned. "But how am I supposed to do that?"
Deekin frowned back. He pulled a claw across his front teeth as he rolled his eyes in thought for a few moments. "Deekin thinks that if you are as nice to Valen as you are to little Deekin, he'll just see that he is wrong eventually, Boss."
Yasha rocked back on her heels at the thought. She wasn't sure she could deal with the tiefling with the same unselfconscious camaraderie she had with the kobold. Though, perhaps it didn't really merit examining to closely why that was. Perhaps it was better to just try and be friendly, and forget all about what he said. After all, it was quite possible that he had bad experiences before that unfairly soured his opinion of paladins, but that didn't mean anything. After all, he barely knew her, and he would likely change his mind once he did. Deekin was right, surely.
"Oh!" Deekin suddenly squealed. "Maybe he'll start writing a book about you then, too! Though Deekin hopes not," he said, suddenly looking concerned.
Yasha could barely control a guffaw at the thought of Valen writing a book about her. Her words were a bit strangled, therefore, when she replied. "I don't think that will be a problem, Deekin."
"Promise little Deekin that he gets exclusive rights, Boss!"
He seemed quite upset, so Yasha tried to very hard to seem solemn. "I promise, Deekin. You have my word of honor on it."
His relief was plain and he grinned toothily again. "Thanks Boss."