For the second time in less than a day Lucretia wakes up to someone's hands on her throat. Unlike Taako, this tiefling is not worried about being gentle.
The red of the female tiefling's skin reminds her of her old robes and even if she wasn't choking the very air out of Lucretia's lungs, she would have found it very hard to breathe. As it is, Lucretia gasps, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Automatically, she throws up her hands, one palm pushing at the tiefling's face, the other wrapping around one of her wrists.
Her fingers are weak, though, and all these attacks are- draining her, slowly. Maybe that's their plan for her. Wear her down, get her to lose sleep, get her hurt, make sure she can't send higher level spells at them with the blink of an eye. It's smart. It's what Lucretia would have done.
Should just let it end. She thinks. Her fingers feel like papier-mâché wrapped around the stone-like muscle of the woman on top of her; she squeezes anyway, sparks of magic dancing along her fingertips and probably burning the tiefling, but it's not enough to do any real damage. Probably feels like nothing more than a slight burn, or the sting of a very determined bee.
What day is it?
Not this again.
But the voice of reason in her head has a point- it's around twelve days still, and she made a promise to her old friends, silent as it may have been. And Lucretia of Faerun always keeps her word.
The lack of oxygen is driving away the fog in her brain, replacing it with black dots at the edges of her vision. It almost feels like she's getting some strength back in return, some sort of will not to die just yet. But with the way out so close - close enough that Lucretia wishes for her breath back to tell it to invest in some breath mints- it's hard to force herself to wriggle underneath the tiefling's weight, to search her mind for the right spells. There's a faint ringing in her ears. She could just lay here and take it, let the black close in on her. It would be so easy.
And then the door to her room bursts open and a flash of red magic slams into the tiefling's back. She goes sprawling over the edge of Lucretia's mattress with a yelp; Lucretia, in turn, rolls onto her side, away from the attacker, and concentrates on not hacking up a lung. She tries to hold a hand to her tenderized throat, but winces and lets it drop when new bruises throb under her touch.
"I am getting so sick of this shit," Taako snaps.
Lucretia can't help but agree. She wheezes in reply.
This new contender seems more hardy than the last, though, because she's back up with a snarled Acid Splash thrown Taako's way. He curses, scrambling back, and Lucretia's blankets and carpet go up in smoke.
"Hey, watch it, these boots are fantasy Gucci," he says, but his voice is tight and angry, lacking any of his usual bravado. All this time spent with Lucretia must be wearing on him.
Nothing but a burden, Lucretia admonishes herself. Can't even get one night's sleep without causing a ruckus.
As the tiefling readies herself and Taako opens his mouth to- well, Lucretia isn't sure what he's about to do but it's probably showy and extravagant and borderline inappropriate- Lucretia holds out one hand; in a moment, the Bulwark Staff is in her palm. It purrs a greeting, sending a thread of concern through her mind.
Don't worry about me , she tells it, and casts Sanctuary on Taako. It's only level one, but as she's currently sprawled out on her side, coughing her way back to semi-life, it's the best Lucretia can do.
Taako barely acknowledges it, but his ears twitch in her direction. He steps further into the room, neatly avoiding the smoking hole in her floor, and twirls his wand in one hand.
"Lucy, how about you come on over here." He doesn't take his eyes off the tiefling. She growls, nearly spitting, and Taako smirks. There is no humor in his eyes.
Lucretia is so tired. It'd be so simple- peace is standing just at the end of her bed, glaring at her.
Twelve days. You owe it to him.
Gods this sucks.
Lucretia scrambles off the bed, almost tripping as her ankles become tangled in her sheets. Her robes are sweat stained and ragged, sticking uncomfortably to her skin. She feels gross but can't really bring herself to care. Her head aches, her limbs ache, her heart aches. She wants to lay down again.
Taako holds out his free hand and, without thinking, Lucretia takes it. He tugs her back behind him and she can't help but arch an eyebrow. A warm curl of something she remembers from the Starblaster days makes an unexpected appearance in her gut.
"The Ragged Harmony will have your blood," the tiefling says, eyes blazing. She's sizing them up, eyeing the way Lucretia lists to the side and holds herself around the ribs; they're still tender, and with her throat abused, now she won't be able to get out any spells she needs to speak to cast as well as she could have before. The tiefling turns her attention to Taako, - perhaps rightly- deciding that he is the biggest threat in the room. If Lucretia were able to feel anything but dread and an overwhelming tiredness right now, she'd be a little offended.
"I hope you don't all wear white," Lucretia musters the energy to reply glibly, gesturing to her tunic, "it will stain so horribly."
"Dude, what the fuck ." Taako's palm is clammy against her own too dry skin and now his fingers squeeze hers to the point where she'd usually probably feel pain. But with how numb she feels these days, it's just a strange sort of pulsing against her skin. It's almost pins and needles as if her hand has fallen asleep.
Lucretia shrugs one shoulder. Her bones still feel like lead and even after all that time in bed she feels like she could sleep for years.
I wish I hadn't woken up before she finished the job.
It's not about what you want. It never has been.
Right. Right, of course.
Lucretia tunes back in just as the woman sends a Banishing Smite towards Taako.
Gods damn her, but that's the one thing that could spur her to action.
" No ."
It takes her less than a second to cast a Shield of Faith around Taako; next, Lucretia uses their still locked hands to Ward him from death. Weak as she is, it doesn't stretch very far, and she's out of spell slots, but Taako is protected and that's enough. That's more than enough.
"Would've worked better if you did that for both of us," Taako says, but Lucretia barely hears him, like a fly buzzing in her ear compared to the roaring in her head. For the first time some emotion breaks through the walls she didn't know were erected days ago.
" Not him ." Fury burns through her. Something about her face must break through the tiefling's bluster, because she makes an aborted movement as if to step back. "You can kill me but you may never hurt him. Not any of them."
"What the fuck, Lucretia!"
"You must pay for your actions, Lucretia of Faerun," the tiefling repeats. She bares her teeth but Lucretia has not been able to bring herself to fear death in a long time. "We will do whatever it takes to bring about our vengeance. We are one and we are many and we have come to signal your end."
And because the universe hates Lucretia, another crack of teleportation emanates from her living room at that exact moment. And then another. And another.
If it were her alone in here, it might have been a relief. It might have meant peace. She has been longing to hear her own death kneel. But she isn't alone.
"Oh, fuck this noise," Taako says. Lucretia had stepped before him to hiss her own warning at the tiefling, and now he wraps one arm around her waist from behind and casts Rope Trick.
He hauls her into the strange darkness at the end of the rope before Lucretia can even get a word in edgewise. Her last sight is of a screaming tiefling thrusting her hands out towards them.