Blind Devotion

by dnd4evr

While on the run from a haunting past, a half-orc warlock finds himself the chance companion of a blind elf doctor. Despite her quirks, he finds great comfort in her company, and the two make fast friends...even if their enemies are never far behind. All original characters that are HIGHLY INSPIRED by the cast of Critical Role.

14. The Child

There was no point opening her eyes. She wouldn't see anything anyway.

Instead, she took in a deep breath through her nose, and subtly let it out through her lips. The smell of water, grass, hemp. Another breath. Honey, wheat, charcoal. Another. Varnish, apples...fizz?

Her nose tickled as something passed right in front of her, and her head began to pound. One thing at a time. Fizz...where had she smelled that before? It was sour, and it tingled as she breathed. It almost smelled like wet nacholite, after it had been mixed with something acidic.

A hand gripped around her neck, forefinger and thumb at the base of her jaw, and tilted her upwards. Immediately, her mind began to drown in panic as she reacted, her hand whipping out to knock away whoever was grabbing her, and her voice screamed for the assailant to leave her alone.

Her strike landed solidly right on the jaw of whoever it was who handled her, exactly where she assumed his face would be. The world around her exploded with noise, overlapping voices, many in panic, hands grabbed for her, pressing into her limbs, but her legs were numb. She wasn't sure she still had them. She took a breath to scream-

A hand grabbed her wrist and practically slapped her hand against a face and held it there.

"I swear, Dahlia. It's just me."

The world went quiet, the alien hands backed away, and Dahlia began to move her fingers. She was terrified she was hearing things. Gently, she stretched her fingers across the face, tracing just under his eye, across his cheek, and as he let her go, she brushed the shape of his lips. The voice. The face. The scar.

It was Jayce.

Relief flooded her with such force that she nearly collapsed, tears fighting to escape as she wheezed. "You're...here. You came for me. How…?"

"It's a long story," Jayce said gently, and Dahlia listened to him shift to sit next to her as the world suddenly shuddered and bumped. "Right now, I'm just damn glad you're okay."

"Am I…?" Dahlia asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she finally traced her own jaw and neck. She subtly shifted the fingers on her left hand and was relieved she was still wearing the glamor ring. It had been deactivated for a while during her capture, whenever she was sure the other prisoner was sleeping and she was alone, so she was sure it would still be going strong, but she still worried that it had been too long. She could already feel the golden band getting warm. Dahlia suppressed a chuckle and thanked Pelor that the ring still worked while "worn" around her tongue, when she was first captured.

Her hand drifted to her arm, and she became confused. She was wearing something made of soft linen, and a cursory check revealed that she was wearing literally nothing else. Thankfully, it was long and formless, so she had a good idea what it was.

"I'm wearing my clerical gown, aren't I?" she asked, clearly embarrassed.

"Well," Zoe's voice cut in, "I did check around to see if I could find your things, but...what I found was pretty burnt." There was a short pause, and Dahlia waited politely to see if she would continue. "Oh! I did find a symbol of Pelor, but I'm pretty sure it's your old one. You still had your shiny symbol in your medicine bag."

Dahlia sighed. "I hadn't gotten around to swapping out the chain yet. I guess that worked in my favor."

"I did find-!"

Jayce cleared his throat with clear warning, and something nonverbal was shared between the two of them.

"Whoops. Uh, I'm going to grab your hand," Zoe said awkwardly, just before fingertips brushed the back of Dahlia's palm. She tensed, but waited obediently. "I found something, and I think you'll appreciate it. We've actually been using it a lot to take care of you while we waited for you to wake up."

Zoe turned over Dahlia's hand and placed a small circular object in her palm. After Zoe pulled away, Dahlia brushed it over with her fingers, and she was shocked to realize it was her Ring of Purity.

"I...thought it was gone forever!" Dahlia gasped. "How did you find it?!"

"Magic items are pretty damn hard to get rid of," Zoe said proudly, clearly with a smile. "I saw it glinting in the ashes of the garbage pyre."

Dahlia immediately slipped it back on her right hand and sighed contentedly. The knowledge that not everything was lost, however small, was a grand comfort. She faced the location of Zoe's voice. "Who else is here?"

"Uh, you want me to say, or should we sound off…?" Zoe asked, clearly flustered. Dahlia tried to hide a smile at the image.

"Me, Zoe, John, Al, Gauth, Puffpaw, and a new young lady named Bera," Jayce said brightly, obviously relieved now that everything was calm.

"Wait, Bera? Bera Galpsi Brewpack?"

"Hold on, I'm pretty sure you only heard my name once!" Bera called back, clearly a short distance away. Again, the world rattled and pitched around her, and this time Dahlia struggled to keep her seat.

"And why is the world moving?!" Dahlia whined. As soon as she said it, the huffing of the horses and the creaking of the cart was obvious to her, but Al answered anyway.

"...but I don't hear the city," Dahlia said quietly.

"That's because we're not in it," Al replied. "We're on Parchwood Way, heading to Turst Fields. Been that way for three days."

Dahlia's breath caught in her throat. "...I've been unconscious for three days?"

"About that long, yeah," Jayce said.

"And...you all took care of me, even though...I've likely...um…" Dahlia could feel her face going hot as she was likely blushing. "Soiled myself?"

Zoe let out an annoyed sigh. "Everyone shits, Dahlia. Like I said, that ring was really handy."

Dahlia pulled her knees up to her chest, physically as she was still unable to feel them, and hugged them as her face walked through a journey of embarrassment and regret. "Why...didn't you just leave me? You wouldn't have to deal with my...problems anymore. It would've been easy."

Several voices spoke up in protest, several in annoyance, and Dahlia's ears immediately closed to the world around her. She caused them so much trouble. She couldn't even imagine the heartache they went through to find her. She was so ready to die, and to take that bastard with her, but-

The smell of cinnamon. Jayce.

Dahlia didn't realize her shoulders were tensed around her ears until that memory of the morning walk and the spiced apple cider crashed into her consciousness. The giggles and the laughs as they talked, the eventual introduction to chocolate, that story of Jayce's scar. Her whole body went limp as tears began to flow freely, but the tears weren't the kind to be sprung from sadness. A smile crossed her lips as she tried to wipe away the moisture. She was relieved.

"Thank you… I… The cinnamon worked. Thank you," she mumbled, but with a clearer smile. "I'm sorry I'm such a mess."

"I have so many questions," Bera said, although quietly enough that it was probably to herself.

"When I start falling into a dark mood, a sensory trigger helps draw me back, Bera," Dahlia explained. Bera's squeak of surprise was enough to tell Dahlia that Bera was not expecting a response. "The current and most effective tigger we've found so far is a stick of cinnamon. It...helps stabilize me, I guess."

"Way I remember it, we were pretty fuckin' lucky to come across that little trick," Jayce said with a clear smile in his voice.

"Okay now that we're all better and awake and everything," Zoe said, clearly impatient for something, "what the fuck did you do to the margrave?!"

Dahlia flinched and tried to pull at her glove, but of course she wasn't wearing it. She mentally kicked at herself for the stupid habit. As her other companions stated their own curiosity, a cold breeze brushed by and cut straight through the decorative robe. Dahlia gripped her arms and shivered, but said nothing. She couldn't impose. Not when they did so much for her.

Something large and heavy was draped over her shoulders, and it took a moment to realize it was a thick burlap tarp. The smell of hemp from earlier. She gladly pulled it around herself and settled into the warmth it provided.

"Thank you," she whispered to the air.

"Anytime," Jayce responded, still with a smile in his voice.

"So? What'd you do?" Zoe asked again.

Dahlia winced as the memories came back to her, creeping through her thoughts like dark spiders crawling up her spine. She shuddered. "Should I start from the chloroform or when I became coherent?"

From the lack of reply, Zoe was apparently speechless, and Jonathan finally spoke to fill the silence. "Actually, if you don't mind talking about it, I would like to know how you were taken. Hopefully it's something we can avoid in the future."

Dahlia nodded and set her shoulders straight. She needed to step back, and take an analytical approach, or she'd break down again. "I was working on a headache medication for you, Jonathan, when I heard the door open. As I didn't hear any footsteps first, I was immediately concerned for my safety and grabbed my mint extract. Prolonged exposure can cause skin irritation, and I was reasonably sure the intruder's eyes were unprotected."

She continued her recounting in a dry, factual manner, starting from how she faked passing out under the chloroform as she started to get light headed and nauseous, and continued to stay limp until she felt she was being taken downstairs. At that point, she tried to scream, but she discovered she was under the influence of a silence spell.

Unfortunately, that was her only chance to attempt escape, as she was given another dose of chloroform while being dragged through the streets. She had little memory of being stuffed in the barrel, but she did remember being pulled out of it. She neglected to mention moving the glamor ring to her mouth at that point.

She was exceptionally cold with how she described her clothes and items being ripped from her, and then thrown in a frigid, dry room made of stone. It was there she first met the other man, an elf who refused to say his name, and she applied her magic without thinking. He began to wail in agony as if someone had applied hot irons to his wounds, but it was his spirit breaking. That brought Margrave Zimmerset back to the cage to see what had happened, and at that point, it was all too clear of her magical power.

"I find it ironic that he found me incapable of falsehood and yet didn't take me seriously when I introduced myself as a cleric of Pelor just that morning," Dahlia said, irritated. The first emotion she added to her recount of events.

"So you knew it was him right away?" Jonathan asked. Nearly everyone in the cart had moved to sit near Dahlia to hear her tale, with the exception of Gauth, who was trying his hardest to listen while driving the horses.

Dahlia nodded. "His voice was pretty distinct."

"So what happened next?" Al asked. He was already irritated at the pause and wanted her to continue immediately.

"Well, we talked," Dahlia said with a shrug. "He pointed out that if my god could grant me power while in his company, then it must be divine will that I help him. I was noncommittal, but he offered me preferable treatment if I could assist in keeping his...subjects alive, myself included. I vowed to do no harm, so I had no choice but to comply."

"But, well, not helping him wouldn't be harming anyone," Zoe said.

Dahlia shook her head. "Not helping him would be harming the other man, when it was clearly in my power to ease his pain. Besides, as soon as he brought it up, I had a plan."

"And what was it?" Al cut in, again impatient.

Dahlia's eyes went dark with anger as her face turned away. "I knew a potion that could bolster the body and help restore the loss of occult blood. If-"

"Occult blood?" Bera asked.

"Blood lost over a long span of time, and is either from multiple wounds or an indeterminate source, such as internal bleeding, rather than from severe trauma."

Bera was clearly not expecting such an in-depth answer and immediately went quiet.

"Anyway, the issue with this potion, Healer's Boon, is that if it is mixed incorrectly, it becomes Dead Man's Blood. I asked for the ingredients, as well as greenscale, which is also known as magebane."

"So...you mixed the potion 'incorrectly'," Jayce said hesitantly, and Dahlia could almost hear him physically add the air quotes, "and then...drank it yerself?!"

Dahlia nodded. "As my first night had been the other man's turn, it was clear I was going to be bled for the ritual the next night. I managed to convince him to draw my blood over multiple nights, as I was unsure how much of the poison would transfer per take and I wanted the other man to be able to rest. Unfortunately, the elf was delirious from blood loss, and I'm not sure he realized what I was trying to do."

"And what was the greenscale for?" Jonathan asked.

"The spell was intended to transfer life force from one being to another," Dahlia explained. "It was my theory that what transferred was not potential life, but actual life, and so instead of taking years from his victims, he was only taking months or days from their drastically shortened lifespan. The magebane was to sever that link, which...if I was correct, should have forced him to age the thirty years he had been 'borrowing' from my race."

"That it definitely did," Al wheezed. The memory was still fresh and unpleasant. "But why did he turn yellow and get so many bruises? You were all weird looking too."

Dahlia chuckled to herself. "Dead Man's Blood makes your blood acidic, fatally so. As such, it makes the blood vessels brittle, and any sort of minor contusion can cause the internal bleeding that results in a bruise."

"Wow. Based on that, if we didn't get you when we did…" Jonathan breathed.

Dahlia nodded. "I would have been dead in a day, and hopefully, so would the margrave."

"Wow. I know Jonathan already said it, but wow," Bera said, clearly impressed. "I mean, not great that you would have died, but wow! You have a lot more fight in you than I thought!"

"Speakin' of," Jayce cut in, "crossin' my fingers it never comes to this, but if that ever happens again, don't you dare sacrifice your life like that. Come hell or high water, we're comin' for you."

"Actually," Dahlia mumbled, embarrassed. She pulled the tarp closer around herself as if she could somehow hide from what she was about to say. She faced Jayce, sitting next to her. "You...kind of saved my life."

"Just him?" Jonathan asked.

"Well, we-we sort of have a joke thing," Dahlia said quickly, and she knew her face was getting hot. "He's really good at puns but my few attempts have been really weak, so to pass the time I tried to think of one, and then of course I figured out a really good one, but I couldn't tell him while I was in the cell-!"

Dahlia hid her face in her hands. Why was she so embarrassed over this?

"And then I had this really stupid fever dream that Jayce showed up and I prattled out the joke and completely ruined the delivery-"

"Never happened. So, Dahlia, what was the joke?"

Jayce said it with such a deadpan voice that Dahlia missed the playful smirk on his face. Al rolled his eyes at that look.

"What? Now? You want me to tell it now?" Dahlia whined. "Come on! I just woke up, I'm practically naked, and I don't have anything except what was in my bag! Give me a day or something to recover!"

"If it was important enough to keep you alive, I'd like to hear it," Jayce said, this time clearly with a smile in his voice. "You know how much I like jokes."

"Nope! More importantly, who got hurt while trying to save me? Who needs healing?" Dahlia said with the obvious intention to change the subject.

"Pretty much everyone got some sort of bruise," Al said, relieved the pun was avoided. "I-"

"Oh no you don't! I want to hear the joke!" Bera cut in. "Come on, what was it that was worth living for? I wanna hear this!"

Dahlia pulled the tarp over her head and whined in embarrassment, to the chuckles of her companions. Finally, she barely poked her face out of the makeshift blanket and mumbled.

Jayce leaned over and even put a hand behind his ear. "I'm sorry, what was that?" he teased.

"How many bones do you have in your hand?!" Dahlia squeaked with far more force than necessary, although not painfully loud. Jayce nearly recoiled but laughed anyway.

"Ow! Loud. Well, ya got me there. How many bones have ya got in your hand?" he said, grinning.

Dahlia turned an adorable shade of red as she hid her face. "A handful," she said through the tarp.

Gauth burst out laughing at the pun, startling the horses just enough to briefly jolt and yank the cart forward. Nearly everyone in the cart toppled over from the sudden change in force, and they all couldn't help but break out into giggles as they began to untangle themselves from each other. Jayce tried everything he could to avoid landing directly on Dahlia, and landed on something soft and warm. He immediately knew what it was.

As soon as he pushed himself away from her, she curled up in a tiny ball and squeaked, completely wrapped up in the tarp. Jayce tried laughing with the rest of the group to play off his embarrassment and he desperately hoped he only landed on her side, rather than someplace considered private. No one seemed any the wiser, and Dahlia said nothing.

Dahlia finally emerged after Gauth had settled the horses and several of them had complimented her joke. Gauth, especially, was excited for another pun battle, and after some enthusiastic prodding, Jayce and Jonathan obliged in a much more amicable exchange. Even Al's whining couldn't dampen the laughter.

Finally, some sense of normalcy had fallen upon them.

A silent fire flickered brightly in a small campsite, defined by a cart to one side and tamped down grass for its base. A subtle clicking, like the gears of a clock, was barely audible over the hushed voices of Gauth and Dahlia, who were practicing multiplication tables. Bera watched them curiously as they made it up to three times ten, which Gauth had successfully answered with no prompting. As Dahlia gently cheered for him, Bera added a victorious flourish on her lyre, which brought giggles from all three of them.

Jonathan and Al sat closer to the fire, chatting about Jonathan's time at the Westhall Academy and the adventures he had as a student. Puffpaw elected to sit between them to maximize her chances at receiving pets, and she made her desire more obvious by purring loudly.

Far enough from the campfire that the light no longer reached them, Zoe swung a solid right hook at Jayce's jaw. Jayce shifted his foot and dropped his shoulder, twisting just out of the way as her knuckles grazed his chin.

"Good! Arms up! Come on! Keep the defense!" Zoe barked. Jayce's eyes flicked down just briefly to check his arms, and Zoe took advantage of the break in his concentration to slam an uppercut into his stomach.

Jayce folded in half and stumbled back, barely able to keep his footing. Gripping his stomach, his face snapped up and glared at Zoe with fury.

Zoe nodded, determined, her arms up defensively and her palms flat. "Come at me, asshole."

Jayce launched at her, taking advantage of his lack of coat and armor to throw a fast jab at her face. Zoe slapped and deflected the strike, but not quickly enough to avoid the blow. It connected with her collarbone and she spun back, grunting with pain.

"Harder!" Zoe snapped. "You even putting your weight into it?!"

As she had been thrown to her back leg, she leaned into it and swung her foot into a powerful kick. It struck Jayce on the side of the head while still off balanced from the strike, and he tumbled to his side. He clumsily scrambled to his feet and charged again, but he recovered far too slowly to hit a professionally trained monk. His left jab hit nothing but air as she twisted past him.

Again, she shifted her stance and slammed her heel into the soft muscle just above his hip. Unbeknownst to Jayce, she had been pulling her punches. If she had hit any harder, she may have just snapped his lower back.

Instead, he stumbled to the side, coughing and grunting through the pain. He tried again to lunge at her, but instead collapsed to the ground, face first in the cold grass. His chest throbbed with pain every time he tried to breathe, and his rage was quickly fading from him.

"I-I yield," Jayce wheezed. He was barely able to brace himself on his hands and knees from the pain.

"Yeah, well, you did better than yesterday," Zoe said, her hand out to him. He took it and she helped pull him up to his feet. "You actually hit me a few times today."

"It's not...enough!" Jayce winced. He grabbed at his side. That heel strike was especially cruel. He tried to bring his arms up for a starting position. "Again."

"Boss, no," Zoe sighed. "You can barely move."

"Not. Your. Boss!" Jayce snapped, his fist flying at her face. She caught it, and only just managed to stop the strike by twisting it away from, again, her face. Her wrist nearly collapsed in the attempt, but she played it off.

"See that? That's your problem!" Zoe yelled. "You don't know when to quit and you keep going for the most defended part of the body! Yeah, the face gets you down fast, but just charging in without looking for an opening is as stupid as running face first into a wall!"

"Then teach me!" Jayce yelled back.

Zoe shook her head. "Not today. You need to recover first. Let's go ask Dahila for some healing magic and eat something."

Jayce snarled under his breath, but his side flared with pain. He winced and set his jaw before he looked at Zoe again. "Fine, but grapples first."

Zoe rolled her eyes and sighed. "If you can't escape, we're done, got it?"

Jayce nodded, his eyes flashing with a determined fire. Zoe braced her feet and held her arms wide but low, her eyes flicking over his person as she planned a route of attack. She exploded into movement, her arm hooking around his neck and her hip swinging around his side as he threw out his arm to push her away. She swung around him, her other arm going under his shoulder to force his head forward and his left arm up, the shoulder locked by her elbow.

"Now get out," Zoe hissed into his ear. "Or are you too weak?"

Jayce grabbed at her arm with his only usable hand and tried to claw through her grip, but it was solid. Grunting, he twisted, but she continued to hold firm.

"No wonder it was so easy to clap you in irons," Zoe sneered.

Jayce pitched forward with such force that Zoe flipped over his head. She landed on her back and only just managed to keep her breath from escaping due to the sudden slam.

She looked up to see a dark figure, furious yellow eyes sparking with unnatural light, wreathed in oily blue flame. A fist was up and ready to slam down on her, and she just knew it was aiming for her throat.

"Oh gods no!" she screamed, her arms thrown up to protect her face and neck. She tensed, her forearms twisted to deflect as much of the power as possible, but nothing happened. Zoe peeked around her arms, but that dark figure was suddenly gone, and she could hear Jonathan racing toward her, yelling in panicked concern.

Confused, Zoe scrambled to sit up and look around, just in time for Jonathan and Puffpaw to reach her. She was so distracted in her search for Jayce that she didn't even hear her brother speak, or Gauth and Al arrive with their weapons drawn.

Back at the campsite, Dahlia stood, rewrapped herself in the tarp, and checked the makeshift socks Jayce had made for her out of a spare blanket they had in the cart. As they were still solidly on her, she excused herself from Bera's questions and walked over to the cart with her hand out, pausing only briefly as her fingertips came into contact with its wooden side.

She knocked. "Can I join you?"

Jayce grunted and rolled over to his side. "How'd you know I was here?"

Dahlia tried to restrain a smile but failed. "I heard you dive into the cart when everyone else ran to check on Zoe, and Bera said she'd watch the fire, so I thought I'd come check on you."

"You and that fuckin' hearing…" Jayce grumbled. His heart was pounding so hard he felt like his body was shaking with every beat. Could she hear it? He swallowed hard. His mouth was still salivating from that bloodlust out in the field. If he wasn't careful, he'd start drooling, and he was embarrassed enough as it was.

Of course, that reminded him of other embarrassing moments, such as falling into Dahlia's chest unintentionally that morning, and when he was so preoccupied with her condition that he had pressed his face between her naked breasts to find her heartbeat. He had been regretting it ever since. Should he tell her? He was just checking her pulse! ...At the time. Now, every time it came up, he kept getting distracted with how soft and warm she felt, and he'd lose track of the current conversation.

The nightmare of consuming her heart crashed into his mind so vividly that he physically flinched from the memory. He couldn't get that close to her. He was dangerous. He nearly proved that fact to Zoe.

The cart shifted as Dahlia climbed in. She sat at the end of the cart, the tarp still wrapped around her and her hair loose and draped across her face and shoulders. Jayce forced himself to look away. He couldn't get close to her.

"Can you take off your boots?"

Jayce nearly twitched with a start and twisted to look at Dahlia. Of course, she wasn't matching his gaze, but she was facing his feet, and her hands were hovering over his ankle. She faced him with that kind smile.

"If you get cold, you can borrow the tarp for a while. I can last for a bit before I'd need it back."

"As soon as we get to Turst, we're replacin' your gear," Jayce sighed. He sat up and started to wrestle off his boots. "You can't rightly do yer job hobblin' around in piecemeal socks and a tarp."

"I wouldn't call them piecemeal," Dahlia said kindly. "I rather like them. I may keep them when I get boots." She brightened with a sudden idea and turned to Jayce with a broad smile. "I can wear them to bed!"

Jayce chuckled and shook his head. "If you like 'em, I ain't gonna stop ya. Now my boots're off. What did you want?"

Dahlia scooped up his heel and set it in her lap. "Well, you sounded pretty upset, and I never got the chance to try thanking you for coming for me."

Jayce could feel his shoulders tensing, but he wasn't sure why. "There's no need. You'd do the same for any one of us, probably with less fuck-ups," he snickered.

Dahlia drove her thumbs into his heel, rubbing his instep with heavy pressure as she kneaded the muscles in his foot. Jayce had to bite his lip to keep from moaning out loud as his body relaxed in a wave of relief.

"Wow… Had no idea my feet were that bad," Jayce chuckled awkwardly. "That...feels amazin', Dahlia. Thank you."

Something slammed into the side of the wagon and clambered up the side, startling them both as Zoe's upper body appeared over the campside wall of the wagon.

"There you are!" she beamed as they both struggled to breathe. She couldn't help but giggle as Jayce hid his face in his hands.

"Yep… We're here…" Jayce grumbled. "What you want, Zoe?"

"What the fuck happened out there?" she asked, her thumb pointed over her shoulder at the prairie behind her. "You went nuts."

"Should I ask?" Dahlia cut in quietly.

Jayce sighed. "No, Dahlia. Zoe, I lost my temper. I'm sorry. Now give me some space."

"Seriously?" Zoe huffed. "You caught fire and had this creepy, monster vibe-"

"I said give me space!" Jayce roared. He almost twisted at her too, but Dahlia kept a firm grip on his ankle.

"Zoe, too far," Dahlia said firmly, clearly disappointed. "The last person who called Jayce a monster was an absolutely awful being and I refuse to believe you are the same. Apologize."

Zoe's face screwed up in a confused wince. "What the hell? You're not my mom-"

"I am solely in charge of the health of this group, via both potions and preventative care, so in that regard, I carry authority. And, if you want another reason, if you want me to massage your shoulders like you joked when we first went through that book, you'll play nice. I don't want you to have any animosity toward me or Jayce, but I will play the bad guy if I need to."

Zoe stared at Dahlia, almost with disbelief. "I keep forgetting you completely stared down the margrave like he was a toddler throwing a tantrum."

"And you are just as terrifying," Dahlia said, her back straight and her jaw tense. "Now, will you please apologize, and then remind me what step six was for the podiatric application?"

Jayce hid a laugh into his fist as Zoe's face further twisted in complete confusion, her mouth half open with a barely formed protest. "I, uh… Okay, first, Jayce, sorry, pretty sure it's old news that I'm a bitch, and second, what?"

Jayce had to work really hard not to laugh. "Apology accepted, Zoe. No hard feelin's."

Zoe nodded. "Great. Now, Dahlia, what?"

"What what?" Dahlia asked, clearly unsure.

Zoe leaned over the edge of the wall so she could use her hands and gestured through her confusion. "What the fuck did you ask me?! I didn't understand half of it! Step six of what?"

"Oh!" Dahlia paused her work on Jayce's foot briefly to cover her mouth in shock. "I'm so sorry. Do you remember the chapter on the lower leg? Step six for working on the foot. That's what I meant."

"Wouldn't that be easier to say?!" Zoe said, exasperated. "Um… Step six… Oh! Right! Toes! You stretch the toes."

"Thank you," Dahlia said with a kind smile.

"Can I be next?" Zoe asked. "After all, I'm probably just as beat up as this guy. We were sparring." Zoe winked, having briefly forgotten Dahlia was blind. "Gotta take care of me too, right?"

Dahlia sighed. "I'll think about it. We will be setting up shifts soon, so I'll give you an answer then."

"Great! Thanks!" Zoe chirped, as if Dahlia had already agreed. She dropped out of view and immediately started talking to the others around the magical campfire.

Dahlia shook her head with a soft laugh, her fingers pressed between Jayce's toes with a soft squeeze and tug to stretch them. After a few repetitions, she began to work on each toe individually. There was no hesitation or slowing of her rhythm.

Jayce cocked an eyebrow as he watched her work. "You didn't forget, did you?"

Dahlia's own eyebrows rose in curiosity as she continued her work, but he saw the hidden smirk on her lips.

Jayce smirked and gave a slow, validated nod. "That's what I thought. You and that memory of yours ain't gonna miss a step if you were interested in the process. So what was that about?"

"Confusion is the fastest way to de-escalate a situation," Dahlia said simply.

Jayce tilted his head as he watched her work. "Huh. Who taught you that?"

"Aemaer-"

Dahlia froze. A chill crawled up her spine. Her limbs froze as the memories of that day came back in full force, her stomach twisting with remembered pain as she relived the moment the blade pierced her abdomen and pinned her to that tree for hours, just inches from death.

Her mind began to fill with the countless cries she gave as she begged for a release, her body becoming weak and numb as it became soaked in her own blood. How often that name left her lips, begging for mercy, unsure if he had left her to die or had stayed to watch her misery.

She felt as if she was falling into darkness, her mind numb to the outside world. Try as she might, she could not claw her way back to consciousness. Gone was the memory of the sunlight that caressed her with its warmth when her powers first manifested.

Gone was the lifeline that pulled her away from death that day.

But something reached out to her. In that darkness, something warm enveloped her. She leaned into it, her mind unable to think past how grateful she was for a lifeline in that dark void. As she began to surface, she blinked, surprised her eyes were full of tears and her body was exhausted. Where was she?

Deep breath through the nose…

Hemp, cotton, grass.

Not enough. Try again.

Deep breath…

Sweat, cotton, magic. Demon magic. Then...Jayce.

Was Jayce holding her? She couldn't feel his hands.

"Where…?" she whispered.

"Are you back?" Jayce asked softly. His voice was so close to her face, just above her.

"I...think so?" Her eyes flickered as she fought to stay awake. She was so tired. "What happened?"

"You...sort of…" Jayce paused as he tried to explain it. Her shoulders had snapped up around her ears and her face had been haunted, frozen in fear and pain. "You drifted away for a second. Are you okay?"

"I...don't know," she wheezed. She let herself relax deeper into the warmth that surrounded her. "Are...you holding me?"

"Eh, yes and no," Jayce said with a clear smile. "Wrapped you up in that tarp first. I hope that's okay."

Dahlia felt Jayce rest his cheek into the top of her head. She must be in his lap. Somehow, the extra layer of the tarp between them seemed to help, even if being fully clothed and armored in previous moments did nothing to stop her skin from reacting.

She sniffled as she tried to compose herself, then she realized she had been breathing directly into his chest. A chest that didn't smell of leather.

"Jayce! What happened to your coat? Aren't you cold?" she cried, barely able to contain her panic. "I didn't even realize-!"

"Shh," Jayce said quietly. "I'm okay. Right now, I'm pretty warm."

Dahlia settled into his embrace for a moment, her eyes fluttering as she tried to fight her exhaustion. Jayce's hand hesitated, hovering above her head, before he decided to risk it and stroke her hair again. He could feel the tension leave her as her shoulders finally relaxed, and she yawned.

Jayce, relieved, was amazed how the rest of the world just melted away, and for the first time in a long time, everything was all right.

The grasses of the plains were a muted green, long past their prime of spring, as a large rabbit with dusty brown fur navigated their roots for the tasty sprigs of late-sprouting plants. A dusting of frost speckled their fronds with crystals that caught the light of dawn and sparkled in beautiful ways, but it was unknown by this creature as its hunt continued.

Its ears perked at a whisper, and it launched itself into the air, narrowly avoiding the lethal spinning boomerang that sliced directly through its previous position. The second it landed, the rabbit launched itself into the tall grasses of the plains, its body stretched and coiled to a perfect rhythm for maximum speed.

Again, that whisper sliced through the air toward its side, even as it ran, and again, the rabbit leaped right over the boomerang with only the barest of seconds to prepare itself. It sailed through the air for a brief moment before it landed directly on the chest of a deathly still humanoid.

Terrified, the rabbit feinted in multiple directions before finally choosing one at random. It bolted, caution to the wind, as it escaped its fate for that day.

Gauth sighed as he easily caught the boomerang. Bera, ever polite, clapped softly.

"Well, even if we won't have rabbit stew for dinner, that was some expert handling of your weapon, sir," Bera said as she did her best to encourage him. "And on top of that, I didn't even see the rabbit! Not until it freaked out and hopped out of the grasses like it landed in a prickle bush," she giggled.

"Yes, and that is not normal," Gauth mumbled. He reached up to remove Bera from his shoulder, then thought better of it and walked into the knee-high grasses of the plains. He might lose her if he put her down now, even if he did blame her for interfering with his throw.

Bera shrugged. "Maybe it did land in a prickle bush. It could be nothing."

Gauth reached the patch of grass and immediately tensed, his jaw tight as his eyes were wide. "That...is not nothing."

Bera glanced down and yelped in shock, her hands clapping her mouth shut, just in case the excess noise was dangerous to them. Sprawled across the ground was the body of a dead orc, on its back, dead eyes staring at the clear sky, unblinking and still. Bera composed herself and huffed down at the dead ruffian. "Hmph! One less monster in this world. Good riddance."

Gauth kneeled down to check the body, completely oblivious to Bera's slight panic as he almost pitched her off his shoulder. "This man has no weapons."

"So? Neither does Zoe," Bera huffed. She resettled herself so she would be less likely to fall if he suddenly tilted again.

The concern was warranted, as Gauth stood up again. He used his boot to flip the body over unto its front, where old and semi-fresh wounds were revealed, and the ground beneath the body was dark and sticky with coagulated blood.

"What do you think happened?" Bera gasped. She had briefly forgotten the body's heritage in her horror.

Gauth's eyes roved over the scene as he took it in. "Javelins. Several, in his back. He was running. The hunters moved him to his back to check if he was alive, and then moved on." Gauth grunted under his breath. "I don't have the word. This was a hunt, but not a good one."

"Honestly, it looks to me like a slaughter," Bera whispered. She pointed out to the fields ahead of them, and Gauth noted she was pale as a bedsheet before he followed her gaze.

There were other gaps in the grass, and as he looked, he could see each one held a body. He counted twice, just in case, and he determined there were at least thirty of them.

"...We should check if any of them are alive," Gauth said quietly.

"Why?!" Bera hissed, tense and uneasy. "They're dead! We'll leave them be."

"And we will, if they are dead," Gauth said simply. He began to walk among the patches, the bodies revealed as he passed them. Nearly every one was turned over, facing the blue sky, their eyes dull and murky in death. Nearly every one of them was very young, or quite old, with a few exceptions near the edges of the group. One body that struck Bera quite deeply was an old orc woman, her hair greyed out and thinning, her body frail in old age, still clinging to a small child, hardly a year old. Both had their throats slashed open.

"They're- They're just orcs," Bera grumbled to herself, her face tight in a wince. "They're just orcs, they're monsters, they kill people for fun-"

"They were killed in cold blood," Gauth growled. "They could not even defend themselves. Are they monsters if they die in fear?"

Bera, ashamed, did not respond. She wilted in place, her gaze avoiding the bodies as much as was possible while in the middle of them. As she turned her head away, she caught movement in the high grass. It was subtle, but just as she questioned if she was seeing things, the grasses moved again. Bera slapped Gauth's bald skull multiple times and pointed, caught in a state between panic and curiosity that robbed her of speech.

Annoyed, Gauth glanced over, and also caught the moment. Cautiously, he tiptoed his way through the bodies, until he could see what was moving. At first, it seemed like a large lump was shifting away, but as he got closer, he could see boots poking out from under a large, bloody cloak. He grabbed and yanked the cloak away, and what he saw was an orc child, likely no older than twelve, who screamed and begged for mercy in a language none of them could understand. Bera felt her heart break as this boy, in absolute terror, covered his face and cowered away from them as if they were death itself, come to collect.

"Hey! It's okay! It's okay!" Bera called out over his screaming. Gauth also tried to look non-threatening, but that was obviously not his strong suit. Bera panicked slightly and glanced over toward the road, where she could barely make out the cart in the distance. Too far. They wouldn't hear her. Time for a backup plan!

She reached into the bag on her hip and pulled out her lyre, and leaping up to her feet, she planted one on Gauth's head and struck a pose as she thrashed out a loud chord. Unsurprisingly, she now commanded the attention of both of them, and she immediately launched into a goofy song of nonsense, with more gibberish than words, as her fingers plucked and danced across the various strings of the lyre. At one point, she grabbed the lyre like one would carry a lute, and strummed it as if she was playing an absolutely insane solo, and nearly fell off Gauth's shoulder in the process. Gauth, to his credit, was lucid enough through the performance to catch her once she stumbled, and she ended the song with a goofy grin and a set of chords, while nestled in Gauth's arm like a baby.

The boy, confused and afraid, began to nervously laugh at the spectacle. His body visibly relaxed, and then tensed again as a wound in his side became irritated at the movement. The boy growled and gnashed his teeth, cursing in that strange language from before, as he gripped at the injury. Bera glanced at Gauth, and Gauth nodded.

She slipped out of his arm and held out her hand to the orc boy. "Come with us. We can help you. We know a healer."

The boy recoiled away and, again, gripped at his side while he fought the urge to cry from the pain. His face twisted with rage, but it was so choked with fear that neither Gauth or Bera felt threatened.

"Come on, we can help!" Bera said again, as gently as she could manage. A sudden thought came to mind and she dug through the pack again, replacing her lyre before producing a small glass jar of golden liquid. "Do you like honey? I can give you some. It's special, from my own hives!"

The boy paused again, his yellow, slitted eyes locked on that jar of honey. Bera nodded knowingly, as she was well aware how obsessed children could be with sweets. She popped open the lid and held it out again. "Here. Honey. We can help," she said with a kind smile.

The boy hesitated, his hand jerkily moving back from the jar even as he reached for it. His eyes flicked up toward Bera's, and after there was no reaction, he snatched the jar and started to practically drink the golden syrup. Bera shuddered, but composed herself again almost immediately.

"Is he still a monster?" Gauth asked, smug, as he crossed his arms.

Bera rolled her eyes. "Obviously not. Look at him! He's a kid." She paused and gripped her arm. "Who...might one day grow up to be a monster."

It tasted bitter the second it came out of her mouth, but what if it was true?

"Only if he has reason to be," Gauth said, disappointed with Bera. "Do you have more honey? We should lead him back and help him."

"And what are the others going to do?" Bera nearly snapped at Gauth. "Shoot him the second they see him?! We could be leading him to his death-!"

"Jayce."

Bera winced and chewed on her thumbnail. She had nearly forgotten one of their party shared half a lineage with the boy at their feet. "Dammit… Would you believe I forgot he was half-orc?"

Gauth kneeled down and flicked her, gently but firmly, on the forehead. "Children are precious, no matter their parents. They should be treated with care and discipline."

"I thought you were supposed to be some brute, not some wandering sage!" Bera griped, her hands over her forehead. "Ow…!"

"Bera, can you tell him I will carry him to camp?" Gauth asked.

Bera sighed. "I can certainly try, but he's speaking orcish. I don't know that one. Do you?"

Gauth shook his head. "Perhaps Jayce knows. I heard him yell at goblins once, and they understood him."

"Gauth, Gobbish and Orcish are different languages," Bera said with a heavy sigh. "We can try it though. Um… Hey, boy, can you follow us? You can have more honey."

The boy seemed to recognize the word "honey" and perked up immediately, excited, but quickly dampened as it was clear he still didn't fully trust them. Considering what Bera had been saying just a little earlier, she couldn't blame him.

"Gauth, I don't think you'll get away with carrying him, but I think he can walk," Bera said, careful to keep her kind smile at the boy. "Lead the way? I'm literally in the weeds here."

Gauth nodded, ready and willing to lead them toward the campsite. Bera walked at the boy's side, and while he limped and struggled, he did his best to keep his head high and proud. Bera wondered if that was how he was raised or if he was just putting on a brave face.

As they approached, Al, perched on the driver's seat of the cart, immediately spotted them and called out to the rest of the group. While they all were excited for the promise of fresh meat while on the road, none was more enthusiastic as Zoe, who raced toward them.

The boy recoiled and screeched in alarm, and Zoe immediately skid to a stop in the shorter grass near the road. The boy huddled, both in fear and pain, on the ground as Bera tried her best to calm him.

"What the fuck?" Zoe asked, glancing between Gauth and the lump. "How'd you find someone out in the middle of a field?"

Gauth sighed deeply. "His herd was slaughter," he explained, his voice full of sadness. "He is the only one still alive."

"And he's a kid, so be nice!" Bera called out. The boy flinched, but she tried to talk soothingly to him to help him calm down.

Zoe leaned far to the side to look around Gauth, and her face twisted up in confusion. "Hang on, the kid's an orc?! Even I can tell he's not a half breed, and I've never seen one in person before!"

"Yeah, that's part of the problem," Bera sighed. She pulled the boy over to Zoe, even though the boy was clearly reluctant to go. "Can you run ahead and tell the others not to freak out? And ask Jayce if he knows Orcish. We can't find out what happened without talking to him, and he doesn't know Dorein."

"Uh, sure. Should, uh, I also warn Dahlia?" Zoe asked, peeking over her shoulder at the campsite. It was easy to see the others were getting restless and curious. "I mean, she's literally defenseless right now if that thing-"

"Child," Gauth cut in.

Zoe winced as if she bit a lemon. "Right. Kid. If the kid freaks out and starts attacking us."

"He will not attack without reason," Gauth said simply, his arms crossed and his face stern. "We will not give him one."

"Fine! Got it," Zoe huffed. "I'll see you at the camp."

She jogged back to the others and hastily explained, and the second she mentioned the boy was hurt, Dahlia immediately asked about the boy's condition. Was he walking, was he pale, was he in pain, and so on. By the time Gauth, Bera, and the boy arrived at the camp, Dahlia was already rooting through her bag to find the appropriate medicines.

"So, can you talk to him or not?" Bera asked Jayce, as soon as the boy was seated by the fire.

Jayce looked away, both ashamed and slightly embarrassed. "I can understand 'im, but it's been a damn long time since I've had t' speak it in conversation."

"Well, it's worth a try," Jonathan said, slowly encouraging the boy to pet Puffpaw to calm him. The boy was nothing but confused at the strange furred creature at his knee. "It's not ideal, but we do need the translation."

Jayce nodded slowly and sighed. "Fine." He turned to the boy and switched to orcish. "Uh, boy-child, you know I speak?"

The boy immediately perked up. "You can talk to me?! I mean, I hoped you could; you're war-blood, like me, but you look funny."

Jayce waggled his hand in a so-so motion. "Half. What, uh, the…" He switched back to the common tongue and cursed under his breath before he tried again. "Nightfall. You in field?"

"Um…" the boy said, confused as he leaned slightly back from Jayce. "You...mean last night? What happened last night?"

"Yes!" Jayce said, relieved. "What happened last night."

The boy immediately avoided Jayce's gaze, his face quickly turning from fear to incredible pain. "Ow! Help me!" he whined, his hands gripping his side. "Please! I don't wanna die!"

Back in the common tongue, Jayce turned to Dahlia. "Kid's hurt. You got anything to help? I figure he ain't gonna talk until he's in one piece."

Dahlia nodded, her hands already full from a bottle, a jar, and her bandages. "Lead me to him, and I'll patch him up."

Jayce led her over to the boy, and tried his best to come up with an appropriate word for what Dahlia was about to do. "Uh...Woman, um, shaman."

The boy looked briefly suspicious, but then nodded slowly. "I...guess that explains why she's blind."

Dahlia kneeled next to the boy and began to tap at his side. "Jayce, what do you see?"

He kneeled next to her, and tried to avoid the awkward look on the boy's face. "Uh, bloody, not that deep… A little higher, Dahlia."

"Thank you. Anything else? What color is the blood?"

"Uh, red?" Jayce said with a shrug. "Why?"

Dahlia took an audible sniff as she leaned in toward the boy. "The wound is infected. Thankfully, if there's no visible pus, it's something I can handle with a simple drawing salve."

Jayce nodded and watched her use the power of her ring on the boy before she applied something oily and thick to the boy's side. The boy flinched and bit his lip, but said nothing.

Dahlia nodded at her handiwork. "There. By the time we finish breakfast, he'll be ready for either a bandage or a spell, depending on what he's comfortable with. Jayce, can you ask him for his name?"

"Right, yeah," Jayce said awkwardly. He turned to the boy. "Uh, name? I am Jayce." Jayce tapped his chest to drive home his point in case he chose the wrong words. "You?"

"Lugduf," the boy said, glancing at his side as it clearly reacted to the salve. He was visibly restraining himself from scratching at it. "What about the rest of you? And are you going to kill me?"

Jayce offered a kind smile and patted Lugduf's arm. "No hurt. Help." He then pointed to everyone in the group and said their names, although he skipped Puffpaw. Jonathan noticed and quickly cut in with Puffpaw's introduction, and Lugduf seemed to appreciate it. Jayce also shared Lugduf's name with the group, and many of them said hello.

By then, the food was ready, and while it wasn't much, a stew of reconstituted jerky, bread, and wild herbs went a long way to help them feel more refreshed against the cold winds. Lugduf was honestly shocked when they offered him a share, which he eyed suspiciously until everyone else had taken a mouthful. At that point, he ate with gusto, and Gauth clearly approved with a laugh and a playful smack to his back.

At the end of the meal, Lugduf suddenly paused, staring into his bowl as he began to hiccup from suppressed sobs. Dahlia and Bera both assumed Lugduf had remembered what happened the night before and tried to offer condolences, but it fell on deaf ears. Lugduf put down his bowl and hugged his knees, his face buried in his arms in shame.

Jayce realized he'd have to reach out to the boy if any progress was to be made. "Hey, Lugduf, uh...Cry fine. You are fine."

"No I'm not!" Lugduf yowled, first from rage and then from pain as he gripped again at the still open wound on his side. "I will not cry! I'm not weak!"

"Tell us," Jayce said, somewhat forcefully, to prod the boy into revealing what happened to him and his clan. "Last night. What happened last night."

Lugduf lashed out in anger, throwing his bowl right at Jayce. What was left of the stew splashed across his head as he blocked the bowl from striking his face, his arm stinging from the attack. Gauth grabbed Lugduf's arm and twisted it back, demanding he behave or worse will happen to him, as the others grabbed their weapons, just in case. The only ones who did not prepare for a fight were Jayce and Dahlia.

Dahlia's reaction was one of fear; She had no weapons, or even a clue as to what had provoked Lugduf. Jayce reacted out of pity; he could see the rage in the boy's eyes, which was far too similar to his own for his comfort.

He yelled at the others to hold, and then turned to Gauth. "Let him go."

Gauth obliged, but not before giving Lugduf one last warning growled into his face. As much as Lugduf tried to act brave and unafraid, his body was clearly shaking with fear.

Jayce turned to Lugduf and his gaze went hard, despite the sheen of stew across his face. "We help you, you fight us." Jayce paused just briefly, more to search for the correct words than for dramatic effect. "We will go. You will stay."

Whatever Lugduf saw in Jayce's eyes, it was clearly familiar, and clearly terrifying. Without making eye contact, Lugduf shifted to his knees and held out his arms, fists clenched in tense anticipation, as if he expected a lashing across his wrists for his behavior. His head was bowed and his shoulders shuddered as he suppressed wracked sobs from being audible to his captors.

"I...will stay behind," Lugduf said, his voice choked by guilt and fear. "I should have died with the others."

Jayced rolled his neck and sighed, annoyed but still sympathetic to Lugduf. The poor kid was surrounded by beings he probably only knew as enemies, and Jayce wasn't surprised the boy lashed out when he was upset. Even so, his own lack of fluency was frustrating, and it was difficult to keep the growing anger out of his voice.

"We will not hurt you," Jayce said, as softly as he could manage with the rough language of the orcs. "Tell us what happened last night."

Lugduf looked up, his expression clearly surprised as he glanced across them all. He sat back on his heels and gripped at his side, which had finally stopped bleeding a dull, milky puss, and quickly dressed the wound when Dahlia had Jayce pass him some bandages. Once that was done, Lugduf recounted the events of the previous night, pausing as Jayce translated for the group.

His tribe had been small for as long as he could remember, comprising nearly half of "war-bloods", a poorly-translated phrase that seemed to mean warrior, with the other half being elderly, children, and general land keepers and hunters. Lugduf had been raised to learn the story of Gruumsh, the supposed divine father of all orcs, but his tribe rejected the deity's bloodthirsty ways, preferring instead to sustain themselves rather than seeking out glorious death in battle.

Perhaps this constant slight to the tenants of Gruumsh was finally deemed blasphemous, because with little warning, the tribe found themselves hunted by the Ravagers. Lugduf didn't know what finally tipped the scales, but he vividly remembered listening to the tales of his ancestors around the bonfire, looking up, and screaming in terror as the stars began to rain down as spires of raging flame.

The war-bloods immediately rushed to battle, but they were outnumbered by hundreds. Only five remained to herd the non-combatants away from the melee, to hopefully find survival in the wilds, and Lugduf barely managed to describe the weeks of forced marching, fearing for his life at every pause along the trails. He faltered as he realized he had been marching for nearly two weeks, on foot, with little to eat, as he watched the weakest of his elders and extended family literally die from exhaustion. Finally, the night before he was discovered by Gauth, the Ravagers, relentless in their hunting, caught up with them and were merciless in their execution. Lugduf hid himself under the cloak of one of the warriors as the others ran. He was too terrified in the moment to realize he had been struck in the ambush, and had passed out as weeks of terror caught up with him.

"We...had been trying to find Iceclaw," Lugduf mumbled, his voice strained. He sniffled and wiped the tears and mucus from his face with his entire forearm, and then fought his own thoughts before he continued. "He's our patron spirit. He lives in the northern pine forests."

"The Parchwood Timberlands," Zoe clarified, once Jayce had translated.

Lugduf sighed, exhausted from his recounting. He hooked his thumb on one of his tusks and gently chewed on it, his eyes never straying from the ground by the magical fire. "Is it...even worth it to find him? I'm the only one left. Would he even care? What if he's just a story? What if he's not even real?"

The others listened to Jayce's translation, as Jayce himself was unable to answer the question. They all glanced among themselves with the exception of Zoe, who was tapping at the air as if she was trying to recount something specific she had read in a book.

"Actually," she said slowly as she tried to gather her thoughts while she spoke, "this 'Iceclaw' being in the Parchwood Timberlands might not be that unbelievable. Last I heard, the place was crawling with spirits and undead creatures, and...wait, no… Dammit! I can't remember if it was cursed or if it was just corrupted or something." She grunted in frustration and crossed her arms, tensing as if making her muscles taut would somehow make her memory magically better. "Fuck. That's all I've got."

"That's still hope," Dahlia said, although her words were guarded. "But he's a child, and if the woods of the Parchwood Timberlands are filled with corruption and evil, sending him there would be no better than handing him to the Ravagers. He would have better luck trying to find safe haven in… What's the next town?"

"Turst Fields," Al cut in.

Dahlia nodded her thanks in Al's direction. "Yes. Zoe, Bera, do either of you know anything about the town? Perhaps the people would be sympathetic to an orc youngling with no home."

"Uh, it's a farming community," Bera said with a shrug. "While Westruun has their own fields, most of their food actually comes from Turst Fields, especially anything that isn't grains. The land is very fertile there."

"Yep. That's because of the Mooren River Run, the river that runs from the Alabaster Sierras all the way to the Lucidean Ocean," Zoe said confidently. "That's not the only reason Turst Fields is famous though; Legend has it, the people there are all chummy with a whole tribe of domesticated gnolls!"

Al rolled his eyes. "Bullshit. There's no such thing."

"No, I'm serious!" Zoe said brightly, clearly eager to show off her cartographic knowledge. Unbeknownst to her, Jonathan was nodding with a face that made it obvious that Zoe did know what she was talking about, and the others had no choice but to sit down and shut up until she was done. "They're the Dustpaw tribe, and back in the day, they actually fended off the Ravagers before the assholes could wipe Turst Fields off the map. From what I read, they're actually citizens of the town, and they're part of the militia that works with the contingent of Shields of the Plains that are stationed there."

Gauth, unaware of the meaning of Jonathan's facial expression, opened his mouth to speak and was immediately talked over by Zoe.

"You see, the town doesn't have much besides food and lumber, so a lot of merchants travel this road, and because Westruun buys most of their surplus, the margrave arranged for discounted goods on the condition that we lend them some muscle. Of course, considering what just happened in Westruun, I'm not sure if that's going to change, but...anyway, they've got a strong relationship with Westruun. That said, since they have no problem with gnolls, we might even be able to find a place for Lugduf to stay. I can't imagine an itty bitty orc is going to be a problem," Zoe smiled, smug in her knowledge and deduction. "Oh! And they have a pretty high halfling population there. Might be a good place for you, Bera."

"Yay…" Bera wheezed. "More halflings. I'll fit right in."

"Why did ya wanna leave home, anyway?" Jayce cut in. "You seemed pretty keen on gettin' out."

Bera gripped the strap of her single travel bag over her shoulder and gently twisted it. Her face went hard and angry as she looked away. "None of your business. I just need to find a new home, and you all were convenient. End of story."

"Considering what you had to do in our company, I doubt we were the best, let alone only, option," Jonathan said.

"Yeah, well, I made my bed, alright?!" Bera snapped. She hopped up to her feet and went straight over to the cart, where she climbed in. "Shouldn't we get going? Turst Fields should be a fiver face out, right? Not too far?"

"Depends on what that means," Al said. "Are you talking...hours?"

Bera slapped her face and grumbled under her breath before she responded. "Yes. Hours. Five hours."

Al glanced at Gauth, who shook his head. "Zoe's map said there was at least one more day, but I think it will be two. We are close, but not that close."

"Dammit…" Bera grumbled, although this time more audibly.

Lugduf, completely lost in the conversation, shifted over to sit closer to Jayce, and then tugged at his sleeve. He didn't want to interrupt too loudly, in case their tempers had gotten short at him instead of something else.

Jayce glanced over, confused, as he had practically forgotten Lugduf could not understand any part of their conversation. Thankfully, he was able to relay enough of the information that Lugduf could make sense of the plan, including the fact that they will try to find him a home in Turst Fields. The boy was shocked to hear gnolls, of all things, actually had a place among the citizens, and it gave him hope that he would find safety in the future.

Jayce really did wish the best for him. He could remember feeling lost and alone.

The timer on the magical campfire finally went out, and Lugduf almost squealed with surprise and awe. He had known the fire was magical, but as soon as Jayce managed to explain it was reusable, the boy had hundreds of questions, all about enchantment. Thankfully, Jayce's grasp of the language was simply neglected, and by the time the group had traveled nearly the full day and were looking for a place to camp, Jayce was speaking Lugduf's language fluently, albeit with a clumsy accent. Several hours ago, the plains had begun to shift to sparse woodland, with clumps of random trees scattered through the fields. At first, the transition was subtle, starting with smaller trees that were barely bigger than bushes, but now large, solitary pine trees dominated parts of the horizon, threatened by the shapes of more shade-tolerant saplings that grew in its shadows.

As Gauth pulled the cart to the side and released the horses to graze, Lugduf and Jayce continued to speak in the language of the orcs. Given the chance to learn about a culture he technically belonged to, Jayce jumped at the chance to ask Lugduf about his life, before the events of the last two weeks.

Lugduf was all too willing to talk about his home, and needed little prompting. However, as Al snapped at them both to get out of the cart and pick a spot to sleep, Lugduf turned to Jayce.

"How did you learn my language, anyway?" Lugduf asked. "I was told most muddies only know human."

Jayce paused for a second, his bedroll in his arms as he parsed through that phrase. "Wait, muddies? You mean half-bloods, right?"

Lugduf gulped back his shock as he realized what he said. "Yes, but please don't be mad! I didn't think it would be bad until I said it."

Jayce sighed. "It's fine. It's not the worst thing I've been called. But you're right, I was raised by humans, so this isn't my first speak. A…" Jayce paused and flipped out the bedroll, not too close to the fire and between Dahlia and the edge of camp. "Lugduf, what's a word for a person who is not quite a friend, but more than someone you work with?"

Lugduf thought it over. "Fight-brother?"

Jayce shrugged and kneeled down to straighten out the bedroll. "Close enough. He was a fight-brother on a water cart I used to work on."

Lugduf squinted as he tried to come up with a translation. "Water cart… You mean boat?"

"I can't say I've heard of that word, so I don't know for sure, but if it carries people over the water, it sounds right."

They both startled briefly and Gauth suddenly raced out of the camp, into the stretching shadows of dusk. He quickly reached the edge of the campfire's light and disappeared.

"What just happened?" Jonathan asked as he allowed Puffpaw to play-attack his hand instead of the satchel he wanted to use as a pillow.

Al snickered and smiled. "Gauth caught the scent of some nearby beast, that's all. He usually doesn't bolt off if it's anything smaller than a boar, so we're in for a good roast tonight."

"Ooo! Meat!" Bera beamed. "Do you guys just chuck it on the fire, or what?"

"Actually, that may not be the best idea," Dahlia cut in. "If the fat renders and drips on the device, I don't know if it will interfere with the runes. This isn't like a normal campfire."

"Good point…" Jayce mumbled. He pulled the disk out of his backpack and looked at it. "Think we could angle it?"

"There's an easier option," Jonathan said with a chuckle. "The cooking pan on my meal kit is brass, so we just put it on top of the disc right after we start it up. It will catch the drippings easily, and shouldn't interfere with the magic as brass is a decent magical conduit."

Zoe nodded. "Seems legit. The fire usually appears a few inches up anyway. Plenty of room, right?"

"That's what I thought," Jonathan smiled.

"Great! Now to plan for how to cook the roast," Al grinned as he rubbed his hands together. "What have we got? I think Gauth has the salt, but who here is good enough to look around for anything we can stuff it with?"

Jayce turned to Lugduf and quickly translated. "So we need food. You mentioned you grew up foraging. Can you take a look?"

Lugduf's eyes lit up. "Yes! I'll find so much food! You guys won't regret taking me along!"

With that, Lugduf ran off into the darkness, also without much warning beyond his vocal enthusiasm. Jayce chuckled before he turned back to the group, where Zoe was standing, arms crossed, with a look of false indignation. She could barely keep a straight face.

"What'd you do to chase him off?" she asked. She had to bite her lip to keep from smiling, but it was a losing battle.

Jayce chuckled. "We've been talkin' about his life before the Ravagers...came around, and turns out he was in charge of foragin' for his tribe. He's off t' find vittles for stuffin' the roast."

"Great! Now we can all relax!" Al grinned. He plopped down on his bedroll and stretched his arms. "While we're waiting, Dahlia, do you have any spices in your bag? Or is it all just medicine?"

Dahlia slipped her pack into her lap and smiled. "Often, we learn of medicine because they started as spices, and someone noticed it had good effects on the body. Much of what I have can double as cooking supplies."

"Or you could, you know, have a box of dedicated spices," Bera mumbled. Her hand had already dipped into the small bag on her hip, just in case anyone heard her.

"Oh! Do you?" Dahlia asked.

Bera almost winced. Of course Dahlia heard that.

Everyone turned to look at Bera. "Do you what?" Jonathan asked.

"I have a box of spices from home," Bera sighed. She pulled out a flat wooden box and opened it for everyone to see. Inside were twenty-four small, identical jars with curious labels that were yellowed and stained from age and use. "I know traveling means packing light, but...I couldn't help it. Sometimes a good meal is important, you know?"

"If you really plan on leaving," Al cut in, "I'll buy that off you."

Bera snapped it shut and hugged it. "Or you could find your own, asshole!"

A roar echoed through the scattered trees, and Al jumped up to his feet. "That's Gauth!"

Zoe quickly followed and clacked her staff into place. "Think that kid jumped him?"

"Oh please, Gauth would snap him in half!" Bera snapped. "Gauth's probably in trouble!"

Jayce summoned his sword and turned to Dahlia. "Hide under the cart. We'll check it out and come back."

"Absolutely not!" Dahlia stood tall and threw off the tarp, then scooped up her bag and threw it over her shoulder. "If he's hurt, you'll need me! Now lead the way!"

"You ain't got armor or weapons!" Jayce nearly yelled. "You're defenseless!"

"I agree with Jayce," Jonathan added. "You'll-"

Dahlia grunted with frustration and ran out of the camp, clearly toward where the roar had originated. Shocked, the others raced to follow, throwing themselves into the chase, with Jayce grumbling curses the whole way.

As soon as the trees became thick enough to block their vision, Dahlia clearly heard something alarming and dropped low, muffling her sound. Jonathan, caught completely unawares, tripped over Bera, who had come to a sudden stop in front of him. Despite her best efforts, Bera did end up squeaking as Jonathan face-planted the loam of the forest floor.

Thankfully, the group ahead of them were too occupied with their recent victory to pay much attention to their surroundings. Dahlia leaned heavily on a tree to anchor herself as she listened to the people ahead of her brag.

"It's one of those mountain giant people," a male voice said. "Lucky we got him before he saw us; you see that axe on his back?! It's huge!"

A gruffer voice grunted and then spoke. "That's why we set the ambush. Now the rest of that group is missing their muscle, and they'll comply more easily. We outnumber them and out-muscle them now."

There was a quiet, but hopeful cheer from those around the gruffer voice. Dahlia leaned her ear toward them and counted unique vocal tones.

"There's about ten of them," she whispered. Jayce tapped her arm to signify he understood, and turned to whisper the information to the rest of the group. They nodded, ready, although Bera clearly had second thoughts.

The bloody mass between then, hacked and pierced with multiple arrows, coughed and spasmed. Terrified, one of the hooded figures yelped in alarm and fired a crossbow, but managed to miss terribly, with the bolt thudding into the tree right next to Dahlia's chosen hiding spot. Even though she was startled, Dahlia managed to keep her voice to herself, and shifted just far enough to rest her hand on Zoe's shoulder. They offered a quick whispered exchange, and then Zoe nodded to Jayce to lead the way.

Jayce gripped his falchion and focused on the man with two blades in his hands, both covered in thick blood. The blue black flame burst across his shoulders and arms, and he stepped out of the shadows.

"Y'all just made a damn stupid mistake," Jayce hissed, his eyes flashing with unnatural yellow light. He fired a bolt of eldritch magic, but unfortunately, his distracting tactic worked too well; their enemies ducked and began to scatter, forcing his bolt to whiz harmlessly past them all. He cursed, but thankfully, Zoe, her staff glowing like a bolt of pure sunlight, launched past him. While still midair, she swung the bo staff across the skull of the closest hooded thug. It cracked audibly as the man stumbled backward, clearly dazed from the strike.

Jonathan clipped open his charm from within a special pocket in his new coat, and as soon as the book materialized, it thrummed with sparks of light as it turned to a specific page. Jonathan pulled his signet ring off, barely noticed since he last donned it to speak with the Margrave of Westruun, and the lights flew at the inset diamond like moths to a flame. A rainbow lens flare flashed from the diamond before it began to cycle through every hue before landing on a sickly orange. A small, four-inch orb pulled itself out of the diamond and Jonathan grabbed and lobbed it directly into the face of the man with two blades.

The orb exploded in a wave of caustic slime that clung to the face and, more importantly, the open eyes of the man with two blades. He screamed and stumbled back, his weapons dropped at the ground as he clawed at his own eyes to somehow mitigate the intense pain that dominated his senses. Already furious his followers had flinched away from the man who was literally on fire, he dropped down and scrambled for his blades. By pure luck, his hands closed around the handles of his short sword and dirk, and he threw himself toward the punk who had thrown acid in his face.

All Bera saw was a man whose face was literally melting off suddenly grab blades, roar in anger, and charge at their hiding place. Terrified, she flinched away and whispered into the air, her voice taking a discordant tone as it stumbled through some sort of minor key. The man stopped dead in his tracks and nearly turned on his heel, and as soon as Bera noticed he was unable to resist her magical attack, she blew out a breath of relief and cheered for Jayce to have at them.

Behind the attackers, Al leapt out of the shadows, his blades swinging. His first blade barely grazed the cheek of the crossbow-wielding thug, but his second buried deep into the person's side, just above their hip. Al ripped it backward, twisting the person and gouging open the wound. Unfortunately for him, the person had their crossbow loaded and ready for an attack, although it was clear they were not expecting an attack from behind. Al easily watched the tip of the crossbow and evaded the bolt without a second thought, his face practically frozen in a clear desire for revenge.

The thugs finally regained their composure, but barely. With the almost painfully bright staff, Zoe made herself a clear target, and with the exception of the one facing Al, nine crossbows aimed at her. The first one fired directly for her, but in a moment of inspiration, Zoe nabbed the bolt midair and twisted, throwing the bolt back as if fired from a crossbow of her own. It went straight through the neck of the man she had clocked across the face, but as she came to a stop, the world went white as four more bolts were buried deep into her chest. She fell backward, unable to breathe as both lungs had been pierced.

Jayce yelled Zoe's position relative to his own as he pointed his sword at the terrified leader in the middle and his eyes went black, his lips moving as if possessed. The cross hilt of the falchion split down the middle, the black material cracking as a yellow eye with a bulbous, horizontal pupil suddenly emerged. It strained and darted its vision around the battlefield before fixing its gaze on the leader, whose neck was suddenly engulfed in dark blue flame.

His target identified, almost as if bound in place by thick, oily shadows, Jayce lunged at the man, his falchion swinging. Despite the acid on the man's face, the leader somehow heard Jayce coming, or at least assumed as much, because Jayce's falchion screeched harmlessly away as both blades slid across their sharp edge.

Thankfully, Dahlia had been listening. Following Jayce's directions, she crawled across the brush to find Zoe, gasping for air and choking on blood. Her face hard and determined, Dahlia shut out everything around her and brushed her fingers across Zoe's chest, and winced when she brushed the third arrow. She clenched her teeth and spat, "Return!" under her breath as golden light shot through Zoe's body, and a palmprint of light remained on her abdomen for a brief second as Zoe suddenly found herself able to breathe.

Jonathan, unaware of his sister's plight in the chaos, swirled magic around his arm, drawn from both his floating book and the air, as it began to shift to a purple hue and elongate into three wicked darts circling his wrist. He quickly scanned the field for a smaller target and let loose, the three darts screeching through the air at the command of an arcane word. Three small explosions mangled the body of one of the thugs and the woman collapsed, unmoving, next to the bloody pile in the center.

The bloody pile gritted his teeth and shifted. Gauth was still alive, but fading.

The leader knew he was surrounded by enemies, his mind filled with fear, and he was currently blind with something that burned deeply into his skin and had begun to set his limbs on fire. In the middle of all this, something gripped at his neck, choking him just enough to lend weight to the whispered nightmares in his mind. All he could do was press forward, and somehow try to take down whatever it was that had collided with his sword just seconds before. He threw himself forward, two sweeping strikes with his shortsword and a third with his dagger, and all three hit, biting deep into the creature he knew stood before him.

Unfortunately for him, he didn't quite cut deep enough to knock Jayce down.

Bera watched the chaos and glanced at the ground. The loam was thick with small plants fighting for survival among the shade of giants around them, and she glanced again at the fight. Jayce was in bad shape, Zoe was down, Gauth might be dead for all she knew, and it was going to get worse so long as the other bandits or thugs or whatever they were could continue to pick them off before they got close. She dropped to her knees, dug her fingers into the ground, and whispered, "Damn you, Paw-paw!" before she threw a deeply buried power straight into the earth.

Beneath them all, the ground grumbled and shuddered, when suddenly the vegetation around them thrashed to life and threw itself at anything nearby. Gauth, unable to move in his condition, was nearly buried under the suddenly thriving undergrowth as human attackers screamed and scrambled for safety. Of the seven that remained, three became entangled in the writhing plantlife, with one of them even dropping their weapon in the scuffle.

"There! Done what I could!" Bera called. "Now kill them, Al!"

Al grinned cruelly and rushed forward, his blade slashing through the man he had previously attacked and sending him to his death with barely any effort. He lunged at one of the entangled bandits and ripped his blade right through a small gap in the man's leather armor, between the breast and shoulder plates. The man screeched in pain as his arm went numb, nearly removing his ability to attack with that arm.

"Fuck this! We're going to die!" one of the hooded bandits yelled. "Run!"

The speaker turned and tried to run, only to find himself face to face with an angry Al and his feet tangled in the overgrowth beneath him. He stumbled forward, tripping on the plantlife, right into Al's blade as he passed. He ended up with a gash in his arm, but he considered it worth it as he stumbled just past the glow of Zoe's staff.

One other bandit shared the sentiment and turned to run, but also stumbled through the undergrowth. She barely made it to the edge as her companions loosed bolts toward the group that was supposed to be easy prey. While many bolts went wide, one managed to just barely cut through Al's arm, and another buried itself deeply into Jonathan's thigh.

Jayce, livid, twisted his falchion around and used the momentum to slash across the leader's front, a red line bursting across the man's front as oily black shadows clawed at the wound. The man's armor was cut clean through, and Jayce took advantage of the man's blindness to plant his palm against the newly made wound and summon forth that eldritch fire he can come to rely on. The man screamed in pain and Jayce found he reveled in the sound, as something in him begged to hear it again, and again, and again…

Zoe, finally lucid, jolted from the man's scream and glanced at Dahlia. She could see the fletching of the bolts stuck in her chest, and her hands shook as she gripped at one. With a roar of defiance, Zoe ripped out one of the four bolts and her vision immediately went white again from the pain.

Dahlia wasted no time. She gripped Zoe's wrist and found the removed bolt, and was relieved to find the arrowhead was slender and small. As there were no barbs to worry about, Dahlia braced each bolt in turn and deftly removed them before she whispered, "Blessings to you," and knit the wounds closed with her magic. Zoe, glad to be back in the fight, whispered her thanks as she rolled back up to her feet, although her chest immediately tightened in pain.

Jonathan glanced over, just in time to see his sister get up, and nodded. He dipped a hand into his coat pocket and produced one of Dahlia's potions, which he chugged immediately. The bolt clattered to the floor as the healing magic worked it out of his leg, and feeling refreshed, Jonathan sent Puffpaw into the tangled brush to interfere with the two bandits who were making a run for it.

Gauth, restrained, began to shift and resist, the vegetation gripping at him snapping and tearing as he fought to his knees. The bandit that was fully wrapped in the vines glanced at the giant man with absolute fear in his eyes and prayed Gauth would just stay down, lest his next target be the most convenient one.

The leader wanted very much to run, but he was blind and surrounded by enemies. That magical fear had finally faded, but that did little to assuage him. Even so, that attacker in front of him literally placed a hand on him just a moment ago, so he had to be close. The leader lunged with his short sword, hoping to find purchase in the imposed darkness. His blade was buried in something soft, and he twisted it, knowing the damage such a movement could cause. Then something grabbed his arm, and his dagger slipped out of his hand from the shock. He knew his shortsword was buried in his assailant! Why wasn't the man dead?!

Because Jayce was too stubborn to die.

Once again, those strange whispers began to fill his mind with nightmares. He started to scream in terror as they gripped at him, and this time, he couldn't back away. Jayce still had the man's arm.

Al once again slashed through the throat of an entangled man before he shifted around to attack one of the running targets, but the man just managed to make it out of reach before Al's blade came swinging at his back. Both the hooded man and woman raced into the woods, quickly disappearing into the thickets cloaked in dusk.

Of the three bandits that remained, one of the two entangled thugs still had their crossbow. She twisted hard, aiming for Al before he could return to the fight, but in her haste, the crossbow slipped out of her hand and bounced out of her reach. She whimpered in fear.

The second, however, had no such restraints, and fired right into Al's back. While his armor took most of the blow, he could still feel the bolt had pierced his skin, just below his shoulder blade. It went deep enough that his arm began to fall numb.

Jayce could see nothing but red. He wanted the man before him to die, and scream in bloody pain in the process. He wanted to tear the man apart, as he had seen Gauth do once, just to prove that he had that kind of strength. He wanted-

He realized Dahlia was listening.

The rage left him. He remembered that moment in the mine, where his bloodlust had caused her to fall into a numb, mumbling state. What was he thinking? He couldn't do that again. Then he blinked, and the man was dead at his feet. Severed ribs were visible through the wound in the man's chest, and in his palm was a warm, shuddering, human heart. It went still and cold as he watched, and flame crackled up his arm and engulfed the morbid prize.

He turned slowly, his eyes matching with the remaining members of the bandits, and while his gaze was one of fear, it was as if they saw a completely different face. They recoiled and screamed as if they had just locked eyes with Death incarnate, and they were in denial about their inescapable fate.

He was a monster.

As it was clear the remaining bandits were no longer interested in fighting, Zoe grabbed Dahlia's arm and forcefully pulled her toward Gauth, who was still fighting in his own dance with death. As soon as her hand came into contact with Gauth's arm, she breathed, "Return!" and left another glowing handprint on his shoulder that faded nearly as quickly as her voice. Gauth, suddenly able to breathe, nearly went limp with relief and exhaustion.

"Gauth, can you speak?" Dahlia asked quickly, her hands already brushing across his exposed back as far as she could reach. Her fingers quickly bumped into the shafts of multiple bolts, but she needed a full assessment before she could remove them. If one of the bolts had entered a vein, removing it without a plan was nearly worse than simply leaving the bolt in.

"I...can speak," Gauth wheezed. His voice was strained, but clear.

Dahlia nodded. "Good. I think I found six bolts. I'm going to remove them before I heal you. Are there any in your chest, or are they all in your back?"

Gauth, through clenched teeth, confirmed they were all in his back, as the bandits had been cowards and refused to face him. They had ambushed him from behind, while their leader charged from the front to completely distract him from his surroundings. He barely had the chance to react before he had been defeated.

"Yeah, well, they clearly weren't fighting fair," Bera mumbled. She kicked at some of the vegetation that had already begun to look anemic, the vibrant colors fading to dull hues as she watched. "You guys should grab those three before this vine thing wears off. It's not going to last much longer."

"Easy enough," Al grinned. He didn't mind the opportunity to take out his anger on another one, after they had nearly killed his friend. He grabbed the chin of the closest bandit, and she screamed for mercy as his blade flashed toward her throat.

"Don't you dare!"

Al literally jumped away as the thunderous voice startled all anger out of him. He turned to Dahlia, whose eyes had turned a jet black as she glared at him.

"There has been more than enough killing, and we will not murder those who are defenseless!" Dahlia stood and set her shoulders, facing Al, but in truth speaking to them all. The sleeves of her white robes were already heavily stained with blood. "Blood has spilled on both sides, and this battleground reeks of it, so let them go. If they try to fight, they know they will lose, and it's better that they take this time to reevaluate their choices, and hopefully find safer ones."

The vines and clinging plants crackled and snapped as they began to dry out, rapidly withering away as the magic that sustained them finally faded. The three bandits stumbled out of their restraints and began to dash toward the woods, and no one stopped them.

"When next we meet, I hope it is in peace!" Dahlia called, just before she dove right back into her work of removing the bolts from Gauth's back. What rage that remained between them felt anemic at best, and they stood around awkwardly until Dahlia granted blessings to Gauth, and the bloody wounds began to close.

Dahlia patted Gauth's shoulder. "That should get you back to camp. Do you need help walking?"

Gauth winced as the pain was still quite intense, but he would be damned before he showed them that. "No. I will walk back."

Dahlia smiled warmly at him. "I'm glad you're still with us, Gauth. You know, Al was bragging about your hunting skills when you left camp. We nearly got into a fight about what spices to use!"

Gauth sighed as he trudged alongside Dahlia, her white robes stained red with his blood. He felt nothing but shame. "There will be no roast. I could not find it before I was ambushed."

Dahlia continued to smile. "It won't be the last. I know I haven't seen you hunt very much, but if Al endorses you, then I have complete faith you'll catch something next time."

The comment did help Gauth feel better, but then something came to mind. "Why do you help me?"

Dahlia's smile faded as her face turned to curiosity. "I...don't understand."

"With Yoxsim, he would teach me if I protected him. I did that, but I didn't learn much. With you, I thought it would be the same, but...I haven't protected you. Any time I was close enough to protect you, I could do nothing, and you protected me."

Gauth's eyes fell to the ground as they walked. The sparse woods about them made the ground uneven with roots and clumps of plantlife, and while his pain was bearable, it was distracting enough to make his gait unsure. "What do you gain from me? All I have done is bother you with questions and kill some shadows."

Dahlia had to pause a moment as she thought back over what she knew, but she couldn't recall what "shadows" Gauth might have killed. That wasn't important right now anyway. "Gauth, I gain your friendship, and the light in your voice when you come to an answer on your own. Honestly, I hope you never have to raise a blade in my name, and if all I get from our relationship is our conversations about math and science, then I'll be happy."

Gauth was unsure how to respond, but he was happy he had met this strange woman. While he thanked her with a smile that carried through his voice, he touched the leather band on his wrist, the cinnamon threaded through it, and deep in his heart he renewed his vow to kill the man who cursed her.

As Gauth and Dahlia returned to the campsite, followed by a silent, limping Jayce and a frustrated Al, Jonathan and Zoe stayed behind to find Puffpaw, who had slipped away once Jonathan sent her into the fight. They called out, preferring to treat her as a natural cat than a familiar out of habit, but Puffpaw was between Bera and the path back, and it was clear she was not moving. Puffpaw's eyes were narrow, her back arched, and her ears were flat as she glared at the small halfling. Bera kept herself flat against the tree she was trapped against, desperately praying something would distract the cat just long enough for her to escape.

"There you are!" Jonathan called, but Puffpaw never let up her glare. "Hang on… Bera? Puffpaw, why are you upset with Bera?"

"Th-there's no reason! Your cat just went nuts!" Bera squeaked.

Puffpaw relayed to her master that she had seen Bera cast the spell that caused the vines, a power that was not typically associated with musically-inclined arcane casters. Jonathan's eyes flashed with a spark of arcane light before he turned to Bera, his face just as untrusting.

"What are you hiding?" he hissed, standing behind Puffpaw as he crossed his arms. Bera whimpered and looked away, and Jonathan briefly wavered in his resolve, but he kept up the glare.

"Nothing!" she squeaked. "I don't even know why your cat has gone insane!"

Jonathan gritted his teeth and doubled down. "Puffpaw saw you cast the Entanglement spell, Bera. That's a druid's spell, not a bard."

"I never said I was a bard!" Bera yelped, her hands over her head. "I could be a druid for all you know!"

"Then how do you explain your ability to magically manipulate your voice?" Jonathan growled.

"What, I can't pick up a few tricks from hanging around the College?" Bera whined.

Jonathan's hand gripped his arm ever so slightly tighter. Should he believe her?

Bera threw up her hands. "Why are you even making a big deal about this, anyway?! I helped you save your friend from the fucking Margrave himself! I got lugged around in a damn box, for crying out loud! What's it matter if I keep a few secrets in my pocket?!"

The quiet was tense between them for a moment, with Zoe standing off to the side, confused, but without any intent to intervene. She glanced over to Jonathan, whose resolve seemed to slowly wane as Bera continued to give him a desperate plea with her eyes.

Jonathan grunted in frustration and threw up his hand. "Fine. Keep your secrets, but you leave in Turst. I'm not risking the people in this group to some shady past you won't share."

"Right. Got it. That's the plan. Bye!" Bera squeaked, and she dashed past Jonathan before he could react. Zoe rolled her eyes and crossed her arms as she watched her brother grumble under his breath.

"Seriously, John?" she asked as he scooped up Puffpaw. "She's not the only one in the group with a shady past she won't share."

"Dahila's past won't explode with incompatible magic," Jonathan hissed. "Mark my words, Bera's something...strange, and it'll come back to hurt us."

"What the hell is 'incompatible magic'?" Zoe said, clearly just as frustrated.

"There are five types of magic," Jonathan said, his palm held out to demonstrate while Puffpaw moved up to his shoulder. "Arcane, like what I do; divine, like Dahlia; bardic, like what Bera usually does; druidic, like manipulating nature; and de-"

Jonathan came to a sudden stop as something came to mind. Zoe tilted her head and gave Jonathan a curious, but impatient look as she waited for her brother to continue.

"Demonic…?"

"Jayce is possessed," Jonathan breathed. "The last magic is demonic, caused by a possession that corrupts the soul."

"Are you serious?" Zoe sighed. She rubbed the heel of her hand against her forehead. "So his magic is a little creepy. What if he's just one of those innate users?"

"A sorcerer?" Jonathan shook his head. "That's still arcane magic. Although…" He rubbed his chin as he thought about it. "Demonic parentage could make it demonic, or celestial parentage could make it divine… That's sort of a wildcard. In any case, there's an easy way to figure this out."

"By all means, lay it on me," Zoe mumbled.

Jonathan adopted the same smile he always took when his mind was thinking along mischievous paths. "We ask Dahlia how he smells."

Once assembled back at the campsite, Lugduf was visibly relieved to see them all, as the scuffle in the trees had been audible from where he had been foraging for supplies. He had found some wild onions and beetroots, along with a large handful of tarragon and dill, but as soon as he heard the blasting of spells and yelling typical of battle, he also searched out and successfully found yarrow plants, which he brought back in full. Dahlia, seated by the fire and her robes already magically cleaned, processed the plants, separating leaves from roots from flowers, as each part had a slightly different application. Lugduf watched with fascination as she worked efficiently with the yarrow, despite her gaze seemingly fixed on the fire itself.

He had so many questions, especially when she started to crush the leaves and stems in her mortar. He looked around the group to find his translator and noticed someone was missing.

"Jayce?" he asked, to which several members of the group were startled out of their quiet torpor. Lugduf looked around the fire and noticed everyone else seemed just as confused, so he asked again. "Jayce?"

"Are...you asking where he is?" Bera asked, although she glanced at Jonathan when she said it. Jonathan, thankfully, was too distracted with trying to spot Jayce to return her gaze.

"Did we leave him in the woods?" Al asked. He stood up and glanced around. "He was facing off with that guy who stabbed Gauth in the back, so…"

Al had to take a second to allow his eyes to acclimate to the darkness beyond the camp, but he noticed a shadow hunched by a nearby tree. He quickly mentioned the shape to the others before he stepped out of the light of the fire, and disappeared as if he literally melted into the shadows.

As silent as the falling darkness, Al picked his way through the uneven ground, favoring stealth over speed. On the off chance that lump by the tree was yet another enemy, he couldn't risk tipping it off to his approach. He made his way around and behind it, pausing only briefly in his approach when the lump twitched. Finally, he was close enough that he could properly make out the shapes in shades of dull grey.

A humanoid was leaning heavily against the tree, panting and huddled in a tight ball, as Al shifted to the side to get a better look at the creature's face. It was clear the creature had absolutely no clue he was nearby, which Al used to his advantage. He was nearly upon the being when it lifted its head and wheezed.

"Please...I'm right here… Please see me…"

Jayce's voice was weak and gasping, and Al nearly recoiled when he realized what he had been looking at. Jayce was clearly clutching a stomach wound, just under the lower edge of his chest armor, one that had been allowed to bleed for far too long. Al dropped to his knees and grabbed Jayce's shoulders to force eye contact, which Jayce was barely able to maintain.

Al blurted out the first words to come to mind. "Jayce! What happened?!"

Jayce managed an exhausted smile. "Hey, Al… Fucker tried t' use me like a sheath… Ain't a good one, apparently... I'm leakin' all over the place…"

"Don't you dare make a joke of this, you asshole! You're dying!" Al hissed. He pushed Jayce far enough back to get a better look at the wound, and what gushed out was a putrid mix of blood and stomach bile. Al gagged and immediately went into a panic as he glanced back at the fire. Too far to whistle or yell, no potions on his person, and no clue how to treat the wound so he could move Jayce back to camp, Al frantically ran through his meger options. He braced Jayce one more time and said, "Hang on, I'm going to get help!"

"Ain't...goin' anywhere…" Jayce wheezed. His head began to drop as he started to nod off.

"Don't you dare fall asleep on me!" Al barked. He leapt to his feet and palmed the small bell from his bag. In the blink of an eye, he had unmuted the clapper and began to swing it. Three loud clangs, and then he muffled it against his chest. Three more, muffle again. Three more, muffle again.

Just as he assumed, the large grey shape that was Gauth leapt up from near the fire and raced toward him. Al continued to ring the bell at very long intervals, but only when he assumed Gauth needed direction in the darkness. Al dug through his pockets and hissed a few curses. He had left his bag at camp, which of course had his lantern.

Gauth stumbled up close to them, having bumped into yet another tree. "Al, are you close? Where are you?"

"I'm right here!" Al called out. He reached out and touched Gauth's arm. "I know it's dark, but I found Jayce, and he's in really bad shape. Can you carry him back to camp?"

Gauth nodded. "I will. Where is he?"

Al guided Gauth's reach to Jayce, and despite being functionally blind, Gauth was gentle in scooping up Jayce's injured form. Jayce did grunt in a flash of pain, but managed to keep his discomfort mostly to himself.

"Do not sleep, Jayce," Gauth said gently as he carried Jayce back to camp. "Our healer will kill me if you die in my arms."

Jayce sputtered out half a laugh. "Yeah...right… She'd barely...hurt a fly…"

Al raced ahead, clearly agitated as he skidded to a forced stop just in front of the fire. He spouted a terrible assessment of Jayce's wounds, but it was enough for Dahlia to know what she needed to pull out of her bag. By the time Jayce was laid out by the fire, Dahlia had already prepped her field surgery kit.

Her first reaction was to cast her spell to spare the dying, but when it did not take, she nodded and began to assess the wounds by floating her fingertips across his torso. Upon finding the gurgling wound, she briefly bit her lip and nodded.

"You're lucky it was just a stomach wound," she said, almost absentmindedly as she grabbed the mortar. "It takes ten minutes to die from that, as your body processes your own blood, but it is a painful way to go."

"Just...wanted to...give you a chance…" Jayce whispered. His eyelids were starting to drop, and Dahlia clearly noted the exhaustion in his voice. She wound up and slapped him, hard, across the face, which caused him to nearly flail.

"What the hells?!" he wheezed. "I'm fuckin' dying!"

"And if you passed out, I have no guarantee I'd be able to revive you!" Dahlia said. "How did you fall behind, anyway? I thought you were sulking in the cart again!"

"I don't-!" Jayce winced and bit back a yelp as Dahlia's hand literally plunged into his stomach through the wound. He grimaced hard and balled up his fists as he continued. "-don't sulk, dammit! I- Fuck! I stayed behind to-to make sure we weren't-"

Dahlia drew out her hand and pressed both palms against his abdomen, her holy symbol flashing as she breathed out "Blessings" over him. The wound, bathed in light, began to close, as did the other, far less lethal injuries across his body. Jayce practically went limp as the pain subsided and the tension melted away.

"Followed…" he breathed.

"Congratulations, Jayce," Dahlia smiled. "You aren't dying today."

"Yeah, well, stubbornness can only get ya so far…" Jayce mumbled. He was so tired.

"That. Was. Amazing," Bera cut in, clearly in awe. "How did you even know his stomach was cut open?"

Dahlia shrugged as if it was a trivial matter as she applied the yarrow mush to Jayce's stomach through the open slice in his tunic. "I could smell the bile mixed with the blood, and the mere fact that Jayce was still alive suggested a slow death wound. There aren't many places on the body that are both easy to hit and able to host such an injury."

"Okay, great and all, but why'd you stick your hand in there?" Zoe grimaced. It was clear on her face and in her voice that she thought the action was disgusting.

Dahlia shrugged. "I had to be sure the wound was clear of foreign material, or perhaps even the weapon that caused it. I did the same to you when that ankheg eviscerated you."

Zoe cleared her throat and looked away in embarrassment before Bera could ask the very obvious question on her mind.

"Dahlia! Stop!" Jayce yelped. He nearly folded in half as his stomach painfully contracted. "What the fuck is that?! It stings!"

"Yarrow," Dahlia said plainly, as if explaining to a small child. "It will help with the bleeding and any inflammation left over from the wound. You aren't back to full strength yet, Jayce."

"But why's it sting so gods-damn much?!" Jayce hissed, although he managed to catch himself before he gripped his stomach.

Dahlia shrugged and began laying bandages across his stomach. "I guess you're one of the lucky ones that gets skin irritation from yarrow."

Gauth giggled and quickly coughed into his fist to cover it up. Jayce caught it anyway and glared at him.

"Oh...piff," Dahlia grumbled.

"Piff?" Al snorted. "Piff?!"

"Sorry!" Dahlia squeaked, shocked she had been overheard. "I just… Well, I don't like to swear, and I forgot to use my ring before I applied the yarrow. If I use it now, it'll wipe away the yarrow under the bandage, instead of just the blood and dirt."

"Fine, but...piff?!" Al said. He could barely keep a laugh at bay. "What the hell is a piff?!"

"It's just nonsense!" Dahlia continued to squeak, her voice strained from embarrassment. "You know, like that kid song! Zeka je plesao u šumarku maslačka, piff piffle puff puff foo-"

The group burst into laughs and giggles as Dahlia went beet red in the face, as none of them had expected their serious healer to start spouting what sounded like a nursery rhyme. Lugduf joined in on the laughing, but only once it was clear it was not at his expense and he wouldn't be reprimanded for overstepping himself.

"Okay, now you have to sing the rest of that song," Bera wheezed. She gripped her stomach against the pain only laughter could cause. "It sounds ridiculous!"

"Please no…" Dahlia whined, her head buried in her arms.

"Come on, please?" Bera pleaded, her eyes fluttering with slathered charm.

Dahlia fought through her own embarrassment before she finally answered. "After everyone is cared for and no longer bleeding, I will think about it!"

"Fine! Fine. Fair," Bera grinned. "I'll hold you to that."

Dahlia whined under her breath and went back to applying treatment to Jayce's wounds, and Gauth set to work roasting the onions and beetroots over the fire. It wasn't the deer everyone had been hoping for, but it was a change to the routine, and in that way, it was much appreciated.

The next day, Gauth, on the final shift, noticed it had begun to drizzle, and spent most of his time lashing his javelins to the cart to make a basic frame for the tarp to rest. Unfortunately, his apprehension at chopping his rope into pieces made the puzzle one beyond his skills, and he appealed to the group as they began to wake from the slowly building rain. Already miserable, the others were little help until Jonathan remembered Jayce had climbing pitons in his bag, and once those were wedged between the planks of the cart walls, the javelins were much more stable.

With the tarp draped across the four javelins, the bed of the cart was effectively saved from the rain, so long as Zoe sat in the center with her assembled bo to keep the tarp from falling in the middle. Unfortunately, Zoe's nature prevented her from being the sole brace for the bo for too long, but it became tolerable when the group negotiated shifts between them. Lugduf especially was eager to please, and he took the lion share as the cart rumbled along the quickly chilling road.

In the meanwhile, Dahlia attempted to work on more health potions, but the instability of the cart prevented that from being a viable option. After a frustrating hour, she finally gave up and put the alchemy kit back in her bag, and then wrapped herself back up in her bedroll. No matter how she tried, she couldn't get the bedroll to cover all of herself, and opted to let her feet stick out. She was once again thankful for the homemade socks, even if they only barely kept the cold at bay.

After a few uncomfortable moments while listening to the others chat about their luck with bandits the night before, something warm was draped across her legs and feet. Dahlia startled slightly, but she was unsure which way to face to thank whoever had thrown a second bedroll over her.

"Th-thank you," she said to the general air.

"You're welcome," Jayce responded, with his usual gentle smile.

She relaxed with a smile and settled into the warmth from both bedrolls. "I should have figured it was you."

Jayce hummed absentmindedly, having clearly returned to his task at hand. He had removed his tunic earlier and had it magically cleaned before he began to repair it. Of course, that now meant his armor rested on his bare skin, but it was a brief discomfort to bear, and he was able to wear his coat to keep him warm against the pervasive cold of the rainy day.

Thankfully there was little wind.

Just as he was about to sew another stitch, Dahlia lightly bumped his arm. He glanced over to see her pull a face, one clearly meant to tease, and he couldn't help but snicker at the sight. He liked having her as a friend.

Then the image of the burned heart in his hand flashed across his mind, and that sent him directly to the nightmare where he tore her apart with nothing but his teeth. He winced and looked away, praying she hadn't heard his sudden change of mood.

"Actually, that's a good question," Jonathan said clearly, his voice cutting through the heavier air under the tarp. "Dahlia, you mentioned once that you can smell magic, correct?"

Dahlia twitched but composed herself quickly, and then turned to face Jonathan's voice. "Yes, but I have little range on it. I have to be immersed in the magic's influence or directly next to the caster. I'm not a hound."

"How close to the caster, exactly?" Jonathan prodded.

Dahlia could tell he was leading her with the question, and she took on a curious, but cautious, look. "It depends on how the magic is cast. If it's generally cast through the hands, I can usually smell it on the caster's palm. Of course, all magic originates through the soul, so being...uncomfortably close to the chest or neck can also give me a good scent of it. Why?"

"I was just curious what the five types smell like," Jonathan smiled. "I've never heard of magic having a scent before I met you, so I'd like to know what to look out for if I ever have the chance."

Dahlia sighed and did some mental calculations. "Five types… So you're talking about the basics, right?"

"I can't tell if she's stalling or genuinely asking," Al mumbled to Bera, who responded with a sympathetic nod. At this point, both were quite invested, and eager to hear what she had to say.

Jonathan nodded out of habit. "Of course. I imagine the different schools would all have nuances, but I can't imagine my untrained nose would be able to notice anything like that."

Dahlia nodded and took a moment to search her memory. "Let's see… Druid magic smells the best to me, like pine and peat moss, or sometimes petrichor. Arcane...is almost...sharp, I guess? It reminds me of vinegar and cumin, sometimes pepper and turmeric. Let's see…"

"What about bardic?" Bera cut in. She was genuinely curious and had been discreetly trying to check her breath.

"Thank you," Dahlia said with a smile. "Bardic is...cunning. It reminds me of clove and allspice, but also of subtle, floral perfume. It's very layered, compared to other magics."

"What about yours?" Zoe asked. "Let me guess, divine smells very fluffy."

Dahlia giggled and shook her head. "No, but it does smell like going home. Like warm bread and melted butter."

"I bet you're always hungry," Bera snickered.

"Do I smell?" Gauth cut in. He had leaned back enough that he could almost poke his head under the tarp near the driver's seat, and it was clear the "disguise" cloak he had somehow acquired back in Westruun was doing him no favors. However, he didn't seem to mind, and hadn't asked to switch seats.

"I'd have to get closer to you," Dahlia said with a shrug. "I haven't noticed anything from standing nearby, but again, I have to be very close to get anything."

"Can you try? Eple and Kake will drive for now," Gauth said, clearly giddy at the notion of smelling magic.

"Um, I guess?" Dahlia said, unsure. She shifted awkwardly under the tarp and slipped behind Jayce to find the back wall of the cart bed. From there, she easily found Gauth's head wrapped in soaked wool.

She giggled. "Well, you smell very wet."

"It is raining," Gauth snickered. "Now do I smell of magic?"

Dahlia leaned in as close as she dared with the rumbling of the cart and took a deep breath through her nose, and then paused as she parsed through whatever she had smelled. "I'm sorry, Gauth. All I smell is you."

Disappointed, Gauth sighed. "I thought as much. Thank you anyway."

"Of course," Dahlia smiled.

"What about me?" Zoe asked. "I'm not magical, but I do have some kinda magic-like tricks. Think I have a smell?"

"Are we seriously going to have our cleric sniff all of us?" Al laughed. "This is getting ridiculous."

"Ridiculous, yes, but entertaining," Bera grinned.

"And very confusin' for our guest," Jayce laughed. He glanced over to Lugduf, who was, indeed, very confused as he held on to the bo, and he quickly explained everything that was being discussed. Unsurprisingly, Lugduf immediately began spouting questions, mostly to Dahlia, as he, in his excitement, had forgotten they couldn't understand him.

Jayce had to rein in his own laughing before he could warn Lugduf to slow down and let him translate. Then he turned to Dahlia. "Sorry, but now he's askin' for a sniff test too," he laughed.

Dahlia took in a deep breath under the guise of being frustrated, but her smile was too easy to catch. "I'm not going to just crawl around in here sniffing people. This is weird enough as it is!"

"Well, you're right next to Jayce. What does he smell like?" Jonathan asked.

To his surprise, Dahlia smiled in his direction. "Oh, I already know that one. The last time I smelled Jayce, he smelled like chestnuts and leather oil."

There was a short pause as that information truly sunk in. "Wait, chestnuts?" Bera asked, before anyone else had a chance.

"It's...a memory," Dahlia said, her smile soft as she began to relive that moment. "As chance had it, he happened to bathe with chestnut soap, and that smell was associated with something fun for me. So...when I had...a moment, and he grabbed me close to keep me safe, I smelled the chestnut, and the leather oil from his armor and coat. It helped me come back from…"

"The curse," Jayce said quickly. "Ain't that the time that clued you into the scent thing?"

Dahlia nodded. "That's the one."

"Cute, really, but you haven't talked about the fifth magic yet," Al interrupted, thoroughly annoyed. "It's killing me."

Dahlia did a quick count on her fingers. "Oh! Demonic. That one is pretty typical of what you'd think; sulfur and ozone. It literally stinks, and honestly I feel like it's the easiest one to detect."

"This is still blowing my mind," Bera squealed. "Magic smells!"

"Well, it changes reality," Dahlia smiled. "Few things can do that and leave no trace."

Zoe glanced at Jonathan, who was petting Puffpaw rather aggressively as he silently fumed to himself. They both knew Dahlia wouldn't lie, so why didn't she describe Jayce's magic? Her description had her close enough to detect it, but somehow, she had danced around the question. Was that intentional? Was she helping Jayce hide some secret, or did Jonathan thoroughly misjudge the half-orc in their crew?

As frustrated as he was, Jonathan was undeterred. There were too many secrets floating around, and he was determined to reveal them all.

The rain refused to let up throughout the day, shifting from light drizzles to absolute downpours as they continued. The trees became thicker as they traveled closer to Turst Fields, especially on the northern side of the road, but few offered any possibility at shelter from the rain. Soaked to the bone, miserable, and thoroughly motivated, Gauth kept his eyes on a swivel as he searched for shelter. Based on the lack of noise from the cart behind him, it was clear he wasn't the only one suffering from the wet and cold.

He was just about to turn around and ask Al for his lantern when he finally spotted what he was looking for; a massive, wide-based pine tree that reached almost impossibly high above them. A traveler's pine. As he steered the cart away from the road, he could already see the thick boughs diverting rain away from the center of the tree, and he sighed in relief.

Al lifted the edge of the tarp next to the driver's seat. "Gauth! Why're we off the road?"

Gauth pointed ahead in the waning light. "A traveler's pine. I finally found shelter."

"A what?" Jonathan's voice chirped through.

Al turned back to the group in the cart bed. "A traveler's pine. It's practically a wooden cave. We've used a few in the past with a previous employer."

"Thank the gods for a dry night," Zoe wheezed.

Gauth pulled the horses to a stop by the massive pine and hopped down. He poked his head through the lip of the tarp and nearly startled Jonathan, to his amusement.

"Al, I need your lantern."

Al dug through his bag and pulled out a hooded tin lantern, pockmarked and dented from years of use, and turned the dial to open the slats. "Hang on a second, Gauth. I need to refill it."

Zoe turned to Gauth and smirked. "Checking for the boogeyman?"

"Or ghosts," Gauth grinned back.

Zoe swallowed hard, her smile melting into a worried look, and Bera jumped at it. "Oh don't get me started! I have thousands of ghost stories! There's one, called the bagman-"

"How about later?!" Zoe cut in, her voice tinged with a nervous laugh. Jonathan bit his lip and hid a laugh in his fist, which earned him a smack on the arm from his sister.

Al handed over the lantern to Gauth, who disappeared into the cacophonous rain. "Not a fan of ghosts?"

"No, especially since those things are fucking real," Zoe hissed.

Jonathan rolled his eyes and nudged his sister. "Not in Westruun. The only ghost ever spotted there was by you."

"Don't know if you've noticed, bro, but we're not in Westruun anymore!" Zoe growled. "In fact, every day gets us closer to the historically haunted Parchwood Timberlands!"

That little fact caused them all to pause for thought as the rain continued to assault the tarp above them. Lugduf was concerned, but as he was lost as to why everyone had stopped chatting, he said nothing as he chewed on his thumb again.

The cart rocked with a bang as everyone inside screamed in shock and the horses whinnied from the noise. Jayce's arm flashed in blue flame as his falchion materialized in his hand, and nearly everyone else also dove for weapons...until Gauth's booming laughter rolled over them all.

"Gauth! You asshole!" Jayce laughed. "I was gonna spook 'em but you got us first!"

Gauth poked his head into the cart bed, still laughing, and held up the lantern to illuminate the people inside. "I checked. There are no ghosts, ghouls, or goblins. Just space and pine needles."

"And is it dry?" Jonathan said with a grimace, his pride clearly hurt.

Gauth shrugged. "Dry enough. The fire will do the rest."

"Thank the gods that we have that magical one. I can't imagine what looking for firewood would be like out here," Jonathan said, relieved. He snapped his fingers and Puffpaw blipped out of existence, and then gave his sister a knowing look when she briefly panicked.

"Trust me, it's a goddamn pain," Al grumbled. He had already pulled the hood of his cloak up and had slipped to the edge of the cart. "It's not far, but it is raining pretty hard. Dahlia, will you be okay?"

"I-I'm more worried about Lugduf," Dahlia replied. "Does he have a cloak or anything?"

"Just the one we found 'im in," Jayce said, but then mumbled, "Can't believe the kid's twelve and already taller'n me…" under his breath. Dahlia caught it and hid a smile in the bedroll she had repurposed as a cloak.

Jonathan suddenly perked up and smiled. "Dahlia, if you run with me, my Shield spell should keep the rain off us both."

"Hang on a second, how close we talkin'?" Jayce cut in.

Jonathan shrugged. "I'd have to have my arm around her. The spell is designed to usually only cover me."

Dahlia shuddered under her blankets and her face went tight. It was far less than ideal, but until she replaced most of her gear (and clothes), it was a viable option.

"You know she-"

"It's fine."

Everyone turned to Dahlia, clearly surprised. At this point, her aversion to touch was well known through the group, and her quick response was unexpected. Jayce turned to her with concern on his face.

"You sure?"

Dahlia faced him and forced a smile. "It's only for a few seconds, right? Just to make sure these bedrolls don't end up soaked?"

"The reason I asked is because I could also hold out my cloak," Al said, his annoyance obvious in his voice. "That way no one needs to touch you."

"Oh! Thank you. Yes, I'd prefer that," Dahlia said. She deflated in relief and began to scoot her way to the end of the cart bed, being careful to avoid everyone without bumping into them. As she reached the edge, Jonathan grumbled to himself and all but ignored Bera who asked to take him up on the Shield offer.

One after another, they made the short run to the massive pine and ducked under its branches, only lightly damp from the rain. The interior was much drier, but the heavy rain caused a soft mist to fall upon them as they sat, although it was more tolerable closer to the trunk. As soon as Jayce made it under, he pulled the campfire disk from his bag and twisted the dial to the maximum time. He tossed it to the ground before it clicked twice, and a magical fire burst to life, bringing a cheery glow to the interior of the pine.

"Wow…!" Zoe breathed. "There's...what, twenty feet of space in here? This is practically a room!"

"Twenty feet radius, Zoe," Jonathan grumbled.

Zoe rolled her eyes. "That's what I meant, dork. Still, this is awesome! It's seriously like a cave!"

"Not as dry as a cave, but it is good," Gauth smiled. He continued peeling off his wet clothes, down to complete nudity, as the others finally noticed what he was doing.

"Ugh! What are you doing?!" Zoe gasped. "A little warning would be nice!"

Gauth shook his head with a chuckle and began to wring out his pants. An impressive amount of water seeped out and puddled to the floor. "My clothes are wet. I don't want to get sick."

"And you couldn't do that on the other side of the tree?!" Jonathan whined, clearly flustered as he averted his gaze and made blinders out of his hands.

Al waved off the comment. "Just give him space. There's no privacy where he comes from. At least he doesn't just strip in the middle of town, right?"

"...Oh," Dahlia mumbled, her face one of sudden realization.

"Plus, he looks nice," Bera purred, her eyes obviously sizing up the giantkin among them. "That body is practically a work of art. Why wouldn't he want to show it off?"

Gauth paused for a moment and turned to the group. "'Work of art' is good, right?"

Bera giggled. "It means you look like a master made you."

Gauth was clearly pleased with this remark and proceeded to wring out the rest of his clothes with unnecessary flexing, which Bera thoroughly enjoyed. Al did as well, but he did a much better job of hiding it.

As they settled in to paw through their rations, the fire had heated enough of the air around them that the mist falling from above burned away before it reached them, and the small camp became much more comfortable. Suddenly reminded of the deer that got away the night before, Gauth grabbed his axe, threw on his boots, and ran into the rain, otherwise void of clothes. Al buried his head in his hands from embarrassment as he tried to continue to explain his friend's strange ways, but by then, the others had begun to see humor in the situation.

The time passed quickly once Lugduf found pinecones and seeping pine pitch, and after he helped Dahlia collect some of the pitch for her bag, he began stuffing the pitch into the pine cones. The others watched him curiously until he stuck a pinecone on a stick and stuck it into the fire, where the pitch flashed and crackled, just before the pinecone popped loudly and shattered.

Lugduf found this exceptionally entertaining, despite the flying flaming debris, and soon began to race around the traveler's pine looking for more seed bearing victims. The flashy nature appealed to Zoe, so she raced around with him, and soon they were both shouting "Pinecone!" at each other whenever they found another one.

Jonathan decided to delay resummoning Puffpaw for the moment, at least until they were done.

After six more pinecones met an untimely end, Lugduf and Zoe finally gave their escapades a rest, more due to a lack of pitch than a lack of desire to continue. They occasionally caught each other's eye and mumbled "Pinecone", to which they would both start giggling again. Dahlia lightly chided them for being so reckless, especially when she had no armor to protect her from shattering pinecones, but it was clear she barely meant it; she had enjoyed their mirth, even if only from a distance. She was thankful for the smile.

With the return of calm, and Puffpaw, to the group, Bera pulled out her lyre and began plucking a meandering, gentle tune to accompany the rain. Just as she was about to ask if Gauth would be back soon, the giantkin returned, scratched and bruised, but also with a large prize of a slaughtered boar. The group was immediately overcome with excitement for roasted meat, and Gauth set to work cleaning the animal.

Bera donated some of her spices to the cause, and as they settled down to wait for the meal to finish, Bera went back to plucking at her lyre. Jayce, a mischievous grin crossing his face, glanced over at the little bard and cleared his throat.

"Let me guess; you have a request," Bera smiled, her tune uninterrupted.

"Yeah, but I ain't askin' for a song," Jayce beamed. "Ya mentioned a 'bagman'. Sounds like a ghost story, and now's as good a time as any."

Bera's song came to a halt as a giddy grin broke across her face. "You...want a ghost story?" she said, nearly bouncing with excitement.

Zoe groaned and dropped her head into her knees.

Al patted her back. "It's better than puns," he sympathized.

"Says you…" she grumbled.

Both startled slightly as Bera played a discordant flourish on her lyre. She looked over them all with a manic excitement, and looked to Jayce. "Make sure you translate for the boy. He'll need to hear this too."

Jayce nodded and braced himself.

Bera shifted how she held the lyre to mute the notes, changing its lyrical tone to a harsher staccato. She began her tale the traditional way, speaking of how long the story had been passed down among her family's generations, adding a hint of validity to it. She compared the beginning to a similar night, storming and dark, where adventurers were lost deep in a forest that loomed over them, as if to trap them.

These unlucky men found themselves at the mercy of a horrid creature, a basilisk. Instantly, half of them were stone, and the other half were running for their lives. Trapped among impassable terrain, the final two had no choice but to face their foe, or die a coward's death…

Until one jumped into the Bag of Holding held by his companion.

"And then he died. Very funny," Jonathan sighed. "Wasn't that supposed to be scary?"

"Oh, you sweet, naive boy," Bera grinned, an insane look in her eye. "Is that what you were told?"

Jonathan faltered but tried to stick to his story. "Everyone knows you can't keep living things in a Bag of Holding. At most, they last ten minutes before they suffocate."

"Those beasts simply weren't quite as desperate to live," Bera whispered, her voice surprisingly audible among them. "Legend has it, this man flailed about in the darkness, desperate to return to the mortal realm, but found himself trapped between the dimensional storage spaces. The magic began to twist him, break him, until he shed his armor and gear for a more monstrous form. He began to slip between the realms of the bags, adding to a growing collection on his back, but-!" And here she paused for dramatic effect. She caught the eyes of each of them, hesitating until Jayce could catch up with his translation, before she continued. "He is fair. He leaves behind something of his own, before he takes something of yours."

She glanced among them all, and decided to lock eyes with Jonathan. "Even if that something is you."

"Okay that's it! No bags of magic holding stuff!" Zoe squeaked, her hands over her ears and tangled through her hair. "It's bad enough we meet monsters in the woods! I don't want one popping out of some random bag we're carrying!"

Bera took pity on the young woman and sighed. "My mam had a saying about that; Lash it tight, keep it closed/or lose the thing you love the most. Just make sure you tie all your bags closed when you're not using them, and you should be fine."

Jayce began subtly checking the buckles on his bag when he thought no one was looking.

"Besides," Bera continued, "it only applies to Bags of Holding. It's not like any of you have one, right?"

"I wish," Al scoffed. "But no, just regular bags."

"Then you're fine," Bera beamed.

Gauth, excited to continue the scary stories, immediately launched into a tale about a walking mountain that could flatten half the world just by walking through it. Two heads, four arms, and tall enough to pluck the pale orb Catha from the sky, it would ravage the land simply because it was bored.

It was more a tall tale than a ghost story, but Gauth told it with such fervor and dread that they couldn't help but jump and scream when a crack of thunder was mistaken for the impossible giant's footsteps. Thankfully, the food was nearly done, and story-telling was put on hold for more immediate concerns.

As the meat was carved for dinner (and Gauth finally put on his now much drier pants), Bera tightened the lashes on her own bag before tucking it a little closer to her side. Hopefully, after her story, no one would look too closely at what she was carrying.