Chapter Three:

In Which Caleb Regrets More Things Than Usual

"The best laid schemes o' mice an' men

Gang aft a-gley,

An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,

For promised joy"

…

Brittle rays of light streamed through the slats in the crooked shutters, illuminating the fog of dust the coated the room. Caleb blinked the sleep out of his eyes, trying and failing to pierce the heavy shadows hanging in the corners. Nott was already gone and Frumpkin rested silently on the chair.

The bars of light fell onto the center of the floor. Noon?

Caleb groaned and pushed himself upright. It wasn't supposed to be noon. Just another thing out of place. Theoretically, all of these little instances of change shouldn't affect how the next few events played out, but the doubt was enough to make Caleb feel uneasy.

He pulled himself out of bed only to find his legs still shook under his weight. With a scowl, Caleb leaned against the wall and used it to support himself as he made his way downstairs.

The tavern showed its wear in the light of day. The scrapped-up floor and the worn table edges lain bare in the feeble noonday sun. A handful of strangers and refugees dotted the mostly-empty tavern, sticking close to the walls, except for Molly, who was perched at the bar with Keg, listening to the morning bartender, Kilen.

Using various tables and chair heads to steady himself, Caleb arrived at the bar, leaning on the wooden surface.

"Ah, a late sleeper," Kilen said at his arrival, staring down at him with a twinkle in his eye that reminded him of Jester.

Caleb turned to Molly and Keg. "Where is everyone?"

"Kilen, can we get my shaky friend here some breakfast?" Molly asked, pushing the vacant stool out next to him with the toe of his boot and encouraging Caleb to have a seat.

Caleb obliged, taking a seat and locking his hands together in his lap to conceal just how unsteady he was.

"Right away," Kilen said with a nod, vanishing into the kitchen in back. The inn was quiet save for the distant murmurs of conversation and the occasional clinking of pans from the back. There was no one around to overhear.

Molly leaned forward in his stool, resting his arm on the bar and cupping his cheek in his hand watching Caleb. The fingers on his other hand drummed a silent rhythm against the bar.

Caleb shrunk under the scrutiny, focusing blankly ahead. "Where is everyone," He repeated, trying to keep his voice even.

"The Mardun's estate," Keg said while staring into her tankard with a frown.

Caleb reeled. "What?" The word came out more like a hiss than language.

"Well, Nott and Jester thought you deserved a rest," Molly said.

"Also you can't walk," Keg added, and Molly gave a shrug in agreement.

Caleb opened his mouth to protest, but the door slammed open. A menagerie of colorful, familiar bodies flowed in just as Kilen popped out of the kitchen with a plateful of food.

"Morning, Sleepyhead," Jester called with a blinding grin. Kilen set a plate of eggs down in front of him with a side of bacon. The rest of the Mighty Nein plus Nila filled in around them, pulling up chairs and stools.

"Productive morning?" Molly asked.

"Yeah, I'd say so," Fjord said. "Ophelia was…interesting to say the least."

"Have you met her before, Molly?" Nott asked, pushing her way past Beau and Yasha. "She's a tiefling too."

The party groaned at that, and Beau elbowed Nott in the ribs.

"You know, I can't say I've had the pleasure," Molly said.

"What did you learn from Ophelia?" Caleb asked, steering the conversation back on track.

Jester stepped in and relayed information Caleb already knew from the first time around along with a happy helping of superfluous details only someone like Jester would bother recounting. Around them the other members of the Mighty Nein ordered lunch.

Caleb ran his hand through his dirty hair as she finished. This shouldn't change anything. This shouldn't change anything. But—"The Sour Nest," he blurted. "Did you—"

"Oh yeah," Jester said, realization dawning on her, "We also snuck over there and checked the place out."

"Ah, and how did that go?" Caleb asked, swallowing hard. They didn't have Frumpkin with them for recon. How did—

"Oh, it was so amazing, Caleb," Jester said, grabbing his arm as her excitement grew. "Nila turned into a little mouse, and I used my Blessing of the Trickster and—" Jester kept speaking, but Caleb couldn't hear her over his own thoughts. He had changed things. Saving Molly changed things. Started a domino effect he likely couldn't stop. Right now it shouldn't affect his end goal, but the changes kept getting larger and larger. Spiraling out of his control until—

"Caleb?" Nott asked quietly, putting a reassuring hand on his thigh while stealing his bacon with the other hand.

Caleb took a shuddering breath and threw together a front of composure. "Sorry, I just, well, I woke up and you were gone. And then I find out I've been left behind during an important mission, and…" Caleb sighed, resting his head in his hands.

"We just didn't want anything happening to our wizard is all," Molly supplied, still leaning on the bar.

"It should be an easy job now, ja? Now that Lorenzo and his cronies are dead," Caleb said, unable to keep the exhaustion out of his voice.

"Apparently, it's just a handful of guards and maybe a magic user," Fjord said from a nearby table. "Shouldn't take too long. Though we should probably wait until this evenin' to avoid trouble with the…authorities."

Keg snorted. "If you can call them that."

"If you're not feeling up to it maybe…" Nott began but broke off when Caleb met her gaze with narrowed eyes.

"I'm going. Frumpkin is important for recon. I have spells that—"

"Knock you unconscious," Beau called, and he shot her a scathing look.

"Even if I'm not engaged with combat, I think it's still important that I be there. With the team," he said, clenching his fists so tightly that his knuckled whitened beneath the dirty bandages. "I want to—I can contribute."

"If it gets too dangerous I'm dragging you out," Nott said quietly.

Caleb laughed once at that, but there was no warmth in the sound. Now she was the one trying to get him to leave, and he was the one who wanted to stay. This timeline was already hopelessly backward.

…

The stench of blood, sweat, and musk filled the hot air as bodies careened around narrow stone passages. Caleb pressed himself into the cold rock as an armored guard rocketed past with an arrow sticking out of her shoulder, racing towards the exit of The Sour Nest.

With a sharp inhale he focused energy in the centers of his palms, which ignited in a burst of orange-white flame. He hurled the first ray at the fleeing guard, but it went a foot wide. Caleb cursed and lobbed the second which slammed into the back of her knees, throwing her to the ground. The final ray crashed into the back of her head in an explosion of fire, and then the guard went still. Caleb flexed his hand. He needed to get used to casting with all his fingers again.

Frumpkin dropped from the ceiling and landed on his shoulder in the form of a spider just as Nott, Yasha, and Molly spirited around the corner with weapons raised. The group skidded to a halt upon seeing the guard's body.

"Care to leave any for the rest of us?" Molly asked with a grin, spinning his swords in a practiced circle that flicked the blood off the silvery edges.

"What's going on further down?" Caleb asked the group.

"This place just keeps going down," Nott said, retrieving her crossbow bolt from the corpse with a hearty yank. "Every time we think we've found the bottom there's another floor."

"Have you been checking for traps?" Caleb asked.

"Yes," she said while Molly shook his head 'no'.

Caleb sighed. "Maybe I should—"

The fortress shook, sending a rain of dust down on their heads. An unearthly screech pierced the air, forcing the four of them to cover their ears. A black tendril clipped through the floor inches away from Caleb's shoe before disappearing back into the stone as if it were water.

The screeching stopped but left their ears ringing.

"I'm coming with you," Caleb said.

"But you're guarding the entrance," Nott said, stepping between him and the passage leading downwards. "It's a very important job."

"I'm fine, Nott," he said, gesturing to the singed guard with his head.

Nott opened her mouth to protest, but Molly beat her to it. "Just let him come, Nott. They're all small fries anyway. He's fine."

Caleb nodded to Molly appreciatively, who returned the gesture with a wide grin. That was the Mollymauk he remembered, taking everything in stride.

With a flourish of blades and a dramatic swish of his technicolor coat, Molly turned back towards the staircase. Yasha, Nott, and Caleb trailed behind with weapons ready. Upon descending the staircase, Yasha took the lead. Her large stature and equally significant sword made the walls seem like they were pressing down on them. A living organism intent on crushing them to paste.

Caleb wiped the sweat of his brow with the sleeve of his coat. His mind furiously worked at constructing a mental map of the dungeon from his memories as they took the stairs two at a time. He could construct bits and pieces, but all the halls looked the same and though his memory was immaculate, photographic even, creating something out of fragments of memory from sixteen years ago was on a level of its own.

Yasha led them past some scattered corpses before they turned into a room with several iron cages. They didn't pause, but Caleb saw Nila in the corner, hugging her child and partner close with tears in her eyes. Good. That was good. At least something was going right.

They flew down another set of stairs. At the bottom, a guard sprinted past with a giant, spectral lollypop riding her heels. Jester ran past, shrieking in delight, with Keg, encumbered by her heavy armor following behind. Another boom shook the castle, almost causing Caleb's feet to slip out from under him as they reached the flat surface.

"Fjord's around the other side," Keg shouted as she and Jester disappeared around the corner to their right.

Their party of four swept around to the left side as directed to find a small room where Fjord battled two guards. Another figure, gaunt and familiar with a shock of white hair, circled the guards from the other sides. Caleb actually grinned at the sight of the old man. It'd been years since he'd seen Shakäste.

Black, eldritch tentacles writhed around Fjord, snatching the closer guard by the ankle and hoisting him into the air. Yasha stepped forward, and the tendrils clung to her. She plowed through them like they were paper, and with a large swing of her greatsword, bisected the dangling guard.

The other guard screamed at the carnage, backing up straight into an ethereal statue that bowled him down. The spiritual effigy landed heavy on his head with a sickening crunch that sent a chill up Caleb's spine.

"Fancy meeting you here," Molly called to Shakäste as he skirted around Fjord's evaporating tentacles.

"Where's Jester and Keg?" Fjord asked as the last of his spell dispersed into thick black smoke.

"They went on ahead," Yasha said. Behind them, a loud cranking noise sounded out as the barred gate began to rise. Everyone turned, readying their weapons as two more figures stepped out. One appeared to be another nameless hired guard, but the second one was robed in maroon and held a glowing crystal orb aloft.

Caleb mentally prepared to dispel whatever the caster was planning, but Yasha stepped in his way with her sword. It dripped crimson onto the stone floor as the runes on the hilt began to glow.

"Catch up with Jester," she said. "We've got this."

Caleb, even after knowing her for so many years, still wasn't in the habit of arguing with the large woman, so he slipped out of the room followed by Nott. Molly hesitated for a moment, looking from Yasha to Caleb and Nott.

Noticing his apprehension, Yasha nodded at the door. "Go."

Shakäste threw his magical statue at the enemies as the caster shouted an unfamiliar incantation. The guard dodged the statue and it collided with the stone wall, sending shrapnel shooting across the room.

Molly ducked out of the way and bolted towards the exit. He gave Yasha a quick slap on the ass on his way out. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he called over his shoulder as he joined Caleb and Nott in the doorframe.

Nott led them this time, scampering around bodies and corners with a speed Molly easily matched but left Caleb several paces behind. They reached the other end of the floor with no signs of Jester and Keg besides a trail of smashed corpses in their wake.

"I guess we're going down again then," Nott said, gesturing at the staircase. There was a warm glow at the bottom from a source they couldn't see. Caleb stiffened as a memory clicked into place.

He cursed, jumping past Molly and Nott and taking the stairs three, four at a time.

"Hey, where's the fire?" Nott called, running after him.

"Downstairs," Caleb shot back, landing on the solid ground with a force that made him stumble into the opposing wall.

His friends landed at his side, but he pushed onwards while ignoring the calls of concern. The warm light grew brighter and Caleb could hear the roar of flames and the raw heat emanating from down the hall. The heat haze distorted the patterns on the stonework, making the world feel off kilter. Sweat poured down his neck into his heavy coat and his damp bangs clung to his forehead.

Caleb rounded to corner to find a room burning. The heat scalded his face and he had to close his eyes from the light. Blind, he lifted his hands and sent a surge of magic towards into the opposite corner of the room. The flame died with a loud 'whoosh', sending the last vestiges scattering across the ceiling.

"Jester!" Nott cried, racing past Caleb's legs to the figure bent against the wall.

Jester peeled herself off the wall, revealing Keg who she'd pinned there. Jester coughed, wiping some of the soot off her face. "I'm okay, I'm okay," she insisted as Nott reached her.

"What was that?" Mollymauk asked, strolling into the room and inspecting the blackened scorch marks.

"A trap," Caleb said through labored breaths. He leaned back against the wall, still warm with heat, trying to take in as much air as he could. His body felt weak after the exertion and the room was swimming. He closed his eyes in an attempt to regain his bearings. How could he have forgotten? Without Caduceus, he had to be the one to dispel the trap.

To his left, he heard Jester healing Keg, who thanked her with a voice rough from smoke and pain.

"I think I'm just gonna sit the rest of this out," Keg said, breaking into a coughing fit.

"Understandable," Molly said. "What about you Jester?"

"Oh, I'm okay, but I think my dress is ruined." Caleb could hear the pout in her voice.

"I'm sure we can find you one you like even more," Molly said.

"Maybe we should continue forward," Caleb said, opening his eyes at last. "There can't be much more, and I'm ready to be done with this place."

"Agreed," Molly said and looked to the rest of the group.

Nott nodded and Jester dusted more of the ash off her clothes. "Will you be alright here, Keg?" she asked.

Keg gave her a weak thumbs up before resting her head back against the stone and closing her eyes. Jester's fire-resistant body had shielded her form most of the damage but wearing full metal plate in a burning room can't have been comfortable.

Caleb sent Frumpkin ahead to scout who revealed the room below was the final layer of the dungeon where two more guards lied in wait for them along with a caster.

"We could wait for Fjord, Yasha, and Shakäste," Caleb said, arms crossed. Mentally he reviewed his spells, trying to figure out what he could use to finish this quickly without revealing his overpowered hand to his compatriots.

"I'm sure we'll be fine. We outnumber them, and you've got to admit no one's been much of a challenge here," Molly said.

"Unless you're feeling tired, Caleb," Nott began. "Then—"

"Let's go," Caleb said. He flicked his hand over his body, calling forth magic to swirl around him in layers of protective wards.

Nott frowned at that, furrowing her brows. "Okay, but maybe I can at least make a distraction," she said. She put a clawed hand out in front of her. A figure flickered into existence, frayed and hazy at the edges, but it could almost pass for the real thing. A replica of Lorenzo towered above them and Caleb had to suppress a shudder at the hulking visage.

"Oh, that's really cool, Nott!" Jester said in a hushed voice.

"So we send the fake Lorenzo downstairs, and while they're distracted we attack," Nott said. It was the barest husk of a plan, but it was better than nothing.

Nott directed the illusory Lorenzo down the stairs, where he took each step in utter silence.

"Oh, let me help," Jester said. She lifted her hands and her eyes went jet black. The stones shook beneath Lorenzo's steps, and his armor clattered loudly as he stepped down—though it was slightly out of time with the illusion.

Molly motioned them forward after Lorenzo. Nott followed him in his footsteps with Jester next then finally Caleb.

"Boss? Boss is that you?" One of the guards called out as Lorenzo stepped into their view, surveying the room with a predatory swing of his head. He took several clanking steps forward.

Molly and Nott progressed down the crooked stone steps with near-feline silence and grace, which Jester matched just as easily. Caleb's feet, however, were clumsy beneath him, and his boots scraped against the rock with every step.

Jester turned to him, placing a hand on his shoulder to both stop and steady him. "I bless y—y—" she paused, face eyes narrowing and face distorting. Caleb rushed to cover her mouth, but she let out a massive:

"ACHOOOO!" She sneezed a friendly helping of snot into Caleb's open hands. Her shrill sneeze echoed around the room. Lorenzo went silent.

"Hey, what was that?" a guard asked.

"Shit, move!" Molly hissed, springing out into the open and doing a dodge roll to the opposite wall.

Nott yelped, jumping out after him and hooking left instead, causing the fake Lorenzo to fizzle out.

Caleb pushed past the reeling Jester with a shudder, wiping his snot-drenched hands on his coat before diving across the open gap. A crossbow bolt whizzed past him, missing his shoulder by inches before embedding itself in the wall.

Nott released a volley of her own towards the crossbow-wielding guard while the second guard rushed Molly with a mace. Behind him, the spellcaster, a human woman in her 50's with a shaved head covered in neon-green tattoos, flickered her wrist and her body disappeared into a shimmering blur.

Molly evaded the mace guard's attack, swinging around to carve deep gashes into the woman's arm and shoulder while Nott launched another barrage against the guardsman attacking her. Caleb snatched a piece of iron out of his component pouch and held it before him in a clenched fist. Energy rocketed through the air to surround the sorcerer and two guards in a vice-like grip.

The sorcerer raised her hand, slicing the invisible magic in two where it dissipated uselessly. Caleb scowled. Was that how she was playing then?

"Fine, let's play," Caleb grumbled, digging through his pouch again.

Another crossbow bolt jetted towards Nott, but Jester broke from her cover and deflected it with her shield with a loud 'clang'. It bounced off towards Caleb, who ducked underneath it.

"Sorry, Caleb!" Jester called, already focused on the guardsman in front of her.

In front of him, the guardswoman took another swing at Molly, but his boot caught on the stone as he dodged, and her swing connected with his ribs with a loud crunch, sending him lurching backward into Caleb. Just as the two collapsed into a pile, the sorcerer flicked her wrist, and a jet of flame burst out of her open palm that grew into an inferno. Molly and Caleb scrambled up, but were too slow to fully dodge the wall of fire that rammed into them.

"That's a neat trick," Molly said, coughing, as they stumbled out of the fire that now separated them from Jester and Nott.

"I've seen better," Caleb said, throwing off his smoldering coat.

"Care to demonstrate?" Molly asked as the guardswoman rounded on him.

"Absolutely," Caleb said, finally digging the licorice root out of his bag. He directed a wave of magic towards Molly, who visibly perked up at the change. "Time to pick up the pace."

The guardswoman swung again, and Molly flipped out of the way with ease, landing lightly on the edge of an overturned table, blocking the sorcerer from Caleb's view. "I don't know what you did, Caleb, but I'm into it," he called, spinning his swords in an unusually quick blur as he eyed the faltering guardswoman with delight.

"Molly, you're blocking—!" Caleb tried to warn, but the tiefling froze, eyes going wide.

His head darted around as he scanned for something that wasn't there. "Everything went dark. Please tell me this is your doing, Caleb," he said, an edge of worry creeping into his voice.

The guardswoman growled, pushing herself off the ground and taking a swing at him while he was disoriented.

"Oh no you don't," Caleb said, lobbing a ball of fire at her. It collided with her breastplate and made her swing go wide, striking the edge of the table. Mollymauk wavered on the edge before collapsing onto the ground, barely managing to keep his head from smashing against the rock.

The sorcerer behind them inhaled deeply and vomited a burst of acid that exploded on the exposed Mollymauk. Molly yelped, scrambling backward as his clothes steamed with a loud hiss until he ran into Caleb's legs.

"Well, that was gross," Caleb muttered as he forced more magic into his palms. Beside them, the fire still crackled, and he could hear the faint sounds of Nott and Jester's battle through it.

The guardswoman, now bleeding profusely from Molly's earlier slices, stumbled towards them with her mace raised. He threw a sphere of fire at her that rammed her square in the chest and knocked her backward to the ground. Her head hit with a loud clang and her mace rolled out of her hand.

Without pause, Caleb lobbed three more rays at the opposing sorcerer. The first barreled towards her hazy form but slipped straight through and exploded against the opposite wall. The second and third managed glancing hits but she still clung to control over her own spell. Gods, that was annoying.

"Caleb, what's going on?" Molly called, grabbing his leg.

With a snarl the sorcerer clenched her fists and lighting sparked up her arms.

"Oh, I think not," Caleb muttered, cutting through the air with his arm and causing her magic to spark wildly and fizzle out. "Alright, Mollymauk, our turn," he said pulling the man off the ground and helping him regain his footing.

He had two options, one dispel the blindness spell she'd used on Mollymauk, or two, dispel the evasion spell she'd placed on herself.

"Alright, Mollymauk, do you trust me?" Caleb asked, putting his hands on either of the tieflings shoulders and speaking to him from behind.

"Um, what are you planning, Caleb?" he asked, looking back but unable to focus on Caleb.

"Swing your swords," Caleb called and shoved the man forward towards the enemy. "She's right in front of you."

"Um, okay, I guess this is what we're doing now," Molly said, blinking away the shock and taking large swipes at empty air.

Caleb lifted his hand then clenched it. His magic jetted across the room, attacking the spell surrounding her and tearing it apart like a pack of ravenous gnolls. It disintegrated just as Molly stepped into range. His blades swung in large arcs, the first clipped her shoulder and at the contact Mollymauk's locked in, with a grin he slashed at her in a blur of blades that sprayed blood across the room. With a final slash, he severed her head from her body. It flew across the room and hit the wall with a dull thud.

Mollymauk straightened, vision returning. Besides them the fire died, revealing Jester and Nott leaning over the dead body of the other guard, relatively uninjured. Molly looked down at the carnage, at his bloody swords, then over at Caleb with a grin. "Well, that was fun."

Caleb sighed, leaning against the wall then slumping down to the ground. Frumpkin crawled down the wall and onto his shoulder. "You have a strange definition of fun."

Mollymauk chuckled and sheathed his scimitars. "You know you're not the first to tell me that, and you probably won't be the last."

"Oh, of that I have no doubt," Caleb said, an exhausted grin playing across his face. Maybe this timeline would turn out okay after all.

…

Guards with ready crossbows watched them from the shadowy edges of the dark foyer. A sliver of thin moonlight split the floor from the looming window, contrasting with the hazy torches bolted along the wall.

The Mighty Nein shifted uncomfortably under the weight of some many gazes while dripping the Iron Shephard's blood onto the garish carpet.

Ophelia Mardun emerged from an obscured room on the floor above them, watching them while she descended the staircase slowly, casually. The only sound in the room was the creek of the wooden stairs and the muffled press of her cloven hooves on each step.

She wore a heavy dark blue jacket that concealed most of her form except for the brief flash of a crimson nightgown beneath at the chest and the knees, and her thick hair was pulled back into a loose braid instead of the free-flowing style she'd worn earlier.

She stopped several steps from the bottom, narrowing her eyes and honing in on Fjord.

"I sure hope you have an excellent reason to disturb me at this hour," she said at last, clipped voice filling the dark manor. "And in such numbers in such a state." Her lip curled on the last word.

"Ah, yeah, well firstly we apologize for bargin' in at this hour," Fjord began, taking a step forward and wringing his hands, "But we thought it might be prudent to…give you an update on our shared business."

"At three in the morning," she said, more statement than question.

"Yeah, again, we apologize for the inconvenience but seeing as this was…sensitive business we thought it might be best to relay the news at a quieter time. When the streets were less occupied. Surely you understand."

"Obviously," she said, matching his slow cadence and rolling each syllable off her tongue.

"So, that being said, we've come to tell you our mutual business has concluded this evening."

"Is that so?" she asked, raising a thin eyebrow.

Fjord nodded. "My compatriots and I, we, have business to attend to elsewhere, and we were planning on departing sometime tomorrow preferably."

"And?"

"Well, seeing as we did you a healthy service this evening, we thought perhaps we could continue to benefit from this…temporary partnership for a little longer."

Ophelia's eyes narrowed to golden slits. "Explain."

Fjord clasped his hands. "Well, as we understand it you do quite a bit of trade with Zadash, which happens to be where we're heading. Seeing how dangerous travel can be these days, we thought your next caravan might like an escort. In exchange for a small amount of compensation and traveling supplies, of course."

Ophelia's tail flicked, and she brought her hand up to cup her chin while surveying them. She opened her mouth to speak, but her gaze snagged in place for a breath. She blinked, refocusing on Fjord. "I am open to this sort of arrangement. But I'm sure you all are tired from this evening's events. I will wake my kitchen staff and we will discuss the finer details over food." She snapped, sending a nearby servant running into a dark corridor.

"Oh, we'd hate to impose—" Fjord started.

"Oh, I insist," she said with a grin just open enough to flash her canines in the moonlight.

Caleb glanced backward as subtly as he could, trying to pinpoint what had caught her off guard a moment ago.

Not what. Who.

Mollymauk stood in the gap between him and Beau, studying the patterns on the carpet with disinterest.

Oh. Who else.

Ophelia led them through the creaking manor, past all sorts of dusty curio, but Caleb was too occupied trying to unravel her reaction to notice. There were plenty of things about Molly to give people pause. Obviously, his tiefling-ness shouldn't be a problem to Ophelia, and he couldn't imagine tattoos were that unusual in a town like Shady Creek. The jewelry maybe? The overwhelming rainbow coat? But the mansion was so dimly lit neither of those two elements were observable in their full blinding glory this evening.

Maybe he offended her fashion sense? That was feasible, but was Ophelia the kind of person who cared enough to let it throw her off during a business conversation? Unlikely. Could it be…arousal? Certainly, Ophelia emanated a sultry aura at times, and Mollymauk was attractive, he supposed, for a peacock incarnate. That would at least explain the dinner invitation.

Before he could flesh out his theory further, Ophelia brought them into a dining room where a servant hastily stoked the fire in the hearth. It was a medium sized room, but the table and chairs occupied the bulk of the space and several more display racks had been squished inside in addition. The hearth lined one wall while a large window with a view full of dead branches occupied the other. Ophelia seated herself at the head of the table, clasping her hands and watching the rest of the Mighty Nein file in and situate themselves.

Caleb seated himself on the side of the hearth to fight off the mansion's oppressive chill, and Nott settled in the chair next to him. There were exactly seven seats, so it was lucky Keg had gone with Shakäste back to The Landlocked Lady before they arrived. Fjord and Beau seated themselves to Ophelia's left and right sides, Jester nabbed the seat next to Fjord, then waved Yasha over to the empty seat to her right, leaving the final seat at the opposite end of the table, on Caleb's left, and staring directly at Ophelia, for Mollymauk.

Caleb swallowed hard, staring at the knots in the wooden table. This was unexpected but wouldn't change anything. Shouldn't change anything. Caleb kept repeating that thought to himself like a mantra. A prayer. Eventually, a plate was placed in front of him. He barely noticed it. Instead, he lifted his head to focus on Ophelia.

She had no plate before her, just a wine glass, and Fjord and Beau tried to engage her in conversation, but after every other remark or so she would glance a Mollymauk with a strange expression Caleb couldn't decipher.

Mollymauk himself snickered in conversation with Yasha, gesturing as he spoke with a food-laden fork. A grin played on his face, but his free hand tapped on the table a bit too quickly.

A servant stopped by, leaning in next to Ophelia so she could whisper in his ear. The servant blinked at her for a moment before nodding and turning to leave with a blank expression. On the way out the servant paused by one of the guards flanking the doorway, whispering something in her ear as well.

Okay. Something was up. Caleb clenched his fist before pulling it beneath the table and sneaking it into his money pouch. This would be a risk. Potentially. But if he was careful and had a gentle-enough touch…

He grabbed a copper piece, withdrawing it and spinning through his fingers as casually as he could manage. He hummed the incantation under his breath, looking at Ophelia at the last moment.

Magic washed through his skull, making his scalp tingle, and an invisible thread connected him with Ophelia. Her voice, as clear as if she were speaking aloud, rang out in his head.

'—re of. Is this his way of announcing it? Of holding it over me? Why now? Why through the Gentleman? Are they in league? Using each other more likely. But using me as well now. For what purpose? The theatrics, the planning, the Iron Shepherds, all of it for what? Perhaps it's been too long since I reminded everyone what I'm capable of.'

Ophelia's grip tightened on her wine glass until her grey knuckles turned white.

'You should've stayed dead, Nonagon.'

The shock of her last sentiment sent Caleb reeling and broke his concentration on the spell. Ophelia's thoughts faded then went out as he put both hands on the table to brace himself, trying to digest the information. With shaking hands he grabbed the copper wire out of his component pouch, accidentally bringing several rocks and a scrap of leather along with it. He pointed a finger at Fjord beneath the table.

'Fjord,'

The man jumped, stopping mid-conversation.

'We need to go. Right now. Ophelia's planning something. Youcanrespondtothismessage.'

Fjord glanced at him, appearing like he was about to object, but the look on Caleb's face silenced him. He nodded once and turned back to Ophelia, putting on his most charming smile.

"Well, that was delicious," he said and wiped his hand on his cloth napkin, "And we surely won't forget your generous hospitality," he stood up, the tuft of his hair almost brushing the long-hanging ceiling beams, "But we've had quite a night, and I'm afraid we'll fall asleep right here if we don't get going soon."

He gave the rest of the party a meaningful nod. Beau groaned, shoving a final roll into her mouth before pushing herself up, and the rest of the party followed suit.

"Sorry about the blood we got on your chairs," Jester said, glancing behind her. "And ash."

"Stay a little longer. I insist," Ophelia said standing and staring directly at Mollymauk.

"Oh, we couldn't impose—" Fjord began.

"We're all friends here," she said, tail swishing as her face darkened. "Isn't that right, Nonagon?"
Molly's head snapped up and he paled as he locked eyes with Ophelia. Caleb began to go through his remaining spells.

Fjord stepped in. "I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding, Mo—"

"I'll admit it though," Ophelia said to Molly over Fjord. "I'm impressed. That little disguise of yours got you past my spies, my guards, and into my estate."

Mollymauk forced a grin, trying and failing to relax his stiff limbs. "Well, you know me, always one for theatrics," he said. Beneath the tabling his tail flicked rapidly, knocking against the table legs with rhythmic thuds.

Ophelia grinned. "Theatrics indeed. Now I do have a question if you'll indulge me."

"Anything, darling," Molly said.

"I heard from a reliable source you were put six feet under by your own men. How exactly, did you manage to crawl out of that situation?" she asked.

Caleb heard the drumming of approaching boots.

"On my hands and knees," Molly said and reached for his scimitars.

"Be evasive all you like, Nonagon," she said, "I look forward to seeing you repeat your miracle a second time."

The room exploded into chaos as a squad of armed guards burst into the room. The Mighty Nein drew their weapons and Nott dove across the table with her crossbow, taking a shot at Ophelia, who stepped to the side in an easy dodge. Beside Caleb, Molly was cursing under his breath and taking a defensive stance.

Guards poured into the room, and Caleb could see even more past the bottleneck in the hall.

"Okay, this is bad!" shouted Nott as she scrambled under the table to fire at the guards' knees.

"I don't have any more spells," Jester called from the back of the room. "Nobody get hurt!"

"That's generally the idea," Molly said, taking an experimental swipe at the closest guard.

Another guard aimed for Caleb with her short bow so he dropped to his knees. The arrow whooshed through his hair and embedded itself into the wall. Caleb crawled under the table, passing Nott who tossed a stink bomb at the hoard of guards. He popped back up next to Fjord who was barely keeping three guards at bay with his Falchion.

"Fjord, we've got to get out of here," Caleb said, shielding himself behind the larger man.

"Yeah, no shit," Fjord said ducking away from a glaive.

"Bring me my sword," shouted Ophelia from across the room.

"Out the window, I'll make a distraction," Caleb said, reaching around Fjord to fire his Glove of Blasting at the three guards and throwing them back.

"Can do," Fjord said. He hoisted a chair and slammed it into the pane of glass. With a deafening crash, it shattered into a thousand glittering pieces and the window frame splintered.

On cue, Caleb mumbled his incantation, focusing on the cluster of guards with Ophelia at the helm. His magic surged forward and crashed on them like a wave. It burrowed into their skulls and ripped the sight from the first row of enemies, including Ophelia. They shouted, stumbling forward and bumping into their companions with weapons flailing.

"Mighty Nein, time to go!" Fjord shouted before diving out the window.

"Stop them!" Ophelia screeched, falling backward into her own guards.

Caleb followed next, making a leap for it but his coat snagged on the split wood. He landed outside on his face, knocking the air out of his lungs.

"No time for that," Yasha said as she landed next to him with a splash of mud and dragged him up by his collar.

"Why can't we go one fucking day without somebody trying to kill us?" Beau asked as she darted past them.

Nott and Jester followed next with Molly vaulting over the window sill last, swords catching the moonlight. Beside Caleb, Yasha sheathed her sword and scooped Caleb up off the ground.

"Woah, wh—!" he started, but she was off, sprinting towards the gate with the rest of the Mighty Nein. Crossbow bolts and arrows whizzed past them. One flew straight through Jester's cape, leaving a hole where it passed. They embedded themselves in the ground around their feet in a series of 'thunk' 'thunk' 'thunk's.

It was about that time, as they fled the Mardun estate, that Caleb realized he may have broken this new timeline irrevocably beyond repair.

Or, more colloquially: he fucked up.

…

With D&D Beyond you too can generate random NPCs in a flash, like Sandra Bullock, the Dragon Soul Sorcerer who has a 9 AC and a -4 dex modifier that literally even a blind tiefling can hit. Or Random Guard #1, who is a fighter but for some reason has a 16 in wisdom, 18 in intelligence and a 4 in constitution.

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